The Faith Healer (Call of Cthulhu)

[Calinero]

You are all gathered inside the study of Professor Cyrus Walters, Head of the Archaeology Department at the Miskatonic University. The room is decorated warmly, though not lavishly, and there are a few framed relics that look as though Walters may have brought them back with him from one of his more exotic expeditions. What looks like a gnarled African mask is hanging on one wall, while an ornately decorated katana hangs above the fireplace. Behind a glass case is a block of stone with what appear to be heiroglyphs inscribed upon it, and a dusty model ship sits on a bookshelf. It is apparent that Walters' career as an archaeologist has been fruitful, varied, and long. However, his attention is not on his furnishings--it does not even appear to be on you.

Walters stares into the fire for several moments after you all have joined him, despite being the one to call you here. All of you who know the man will notice that he does not appear entirely well. He is slightly thinner than he used to be, more gaunt. More than anything, he looks tired, and worried. You don't know why he has called you here, but from the look on his face it is probably something serious.

"My friends," he says at last, turning his attention away from the fire to look at each of you. "I must confess to you that I have been keeping a secret. You may have noticed that I have been somewhat reclusive these last few months. This was not because of any lack of desire to socialize with all of you--it is because I was dying."

Before any of you can react to this shocking statement, Walters continues.

"The doctors told me something was wrong with my lungs. Cancer, they said. Nothing could be done for it, it was irreversible. I had a year to live, at best."

"As you can imagine, I went around to other doctors. Got second, third, fourth opinions. They all said the same thing. I tried everything I could, went to every quack whose idea seemed even remotely feasible. The whole time, I didn't tell anyone--I'm sorry, my friends, but I did not want to burden you with my problems unless I knew that there was nothing else to be done. I had nearly given up just last week, and was going to get my affairs in order and announce my retirement. But then...."

Walters stops for a moment, seeming reluctant to talk about whatever it is he has called you here for. Then, he continues.

"Then, I went to see a faith healer. I know, I know, I have never been much of a believer--but by this point, I was ready to try nearly anything. I had heard rumors that this man was authentic, but there were still doubts in my mind when I went to him. His name is John Stane."

"Just last week, I went to his sermon in the Church of Christ, Our Healer. You may have seen it travelling through Boston. He doesn't heal at all of his sermons, only a few--but I got lucky." Walters doesn't sound like he thinks he was very lucky at all when he says this. "He called me up in front of the congregation, and I went--expecting nothing to happen, to be disappointed. He placed his hand on my head, and--"

Walters breaks off, and it is very obvious that what he is thinking about disturbs him. He closes his eyes firmly for a moment, takes a deep breath, then sighs. "I felt something. Life, surging through me. At first, it was wonderful, as though ever inch of me were more alive than I have been in decades. But then...it turned sour. There is no way to quantify this, no way to say it scientifically, but it felt wrong. It was cold, and the room seemed to grow darker. Everyone in the congregation continued applauding, but it seemed to me as though the room had dimmed, and grown colder. And then....I felt something. Something touched my shoulder, and it felt like a hand, but it wasn't. It was too cold, and too sharp to be a hand."

Walters broke off, looking upset at how much he had let himself talk.

"I...apologize, my friends. I know this must sound insane to you, the ramblings of an old man. However, once I rose to my feet and left the Church, I went to my doctor. You see a man before you whose lungs are as healthy as they have ever been. I am completely cured, but I am horribly afraid that something is wrong with this John Stane. I know that this is a lot to ask of you, and I will compensate you for your time--I know that some of you have jobs you cannot afford to leave for long--but please, look into this man for me. I am worried over what I might have seen, or not seen, or felt. If you uncover anything strange about him, or dangerous--please let me know. And please, be careful."

[Oathtaker]

“This sounds a bit crazy, cyrus” Charles says, “And why ask these people for help, I doubt they have any experience in these kind of things” Charles leans back in his chair against the wall and looks about the room, studying each person intently.

[Lycan 01]

Father Gregory rises from his seat, and clasps his hands in front of him, as though giving a sermon. "In the Bible, it is said that men will do great things in the name of the Lord. But these men do not do it for His Glory. They do it for their own - and through means not provided through Almight God. For their power comes from the Great Deciever - Lucifer. He and his demons can give great might to those who would wish to lead the Flock from its Shephard. Why take one soul when you can take hundreds, I suppose? I fear that this man does not weild power bestowed upon him by our Lord Jesus Christ. Nay, I fear we are dealing with much more sinster matters. I believe you, dear friend! I believe you, and I intend to look into these matters... personally."

[DeathBD]

Trevor restrained himself from speaking his opinion of religion after the father's short speech. His relatively short but productive time as a man of science had dispelled from him any semblance of religious belief... Though true magic, he wasn't so sure. "I believe you as well, Cyrus. You'll be perfectly healthy, if I have any say so."

He wasn't about to let his old friend and colleague die - of cancer, magic, or otherwise. After all, any process can be reversed.

[BornAgainGamer]

As the professor related his tale, Bob struggled to take it all in. He had noticed a distance in the professor over the last few weeks and had missed their regular chess games. He hadn't made much of it, after all the professor was a very busy man. Bob had assumed some archaeology thing had got him preoccupied. So when the invite to meet in the Professor's office had come through, he'd assumed that everything would be getting back to normal, they'd enjoy a good game of chess and put the world to rights. And now this ... his emotions were on a rollercoaster ride, first the news of the professor's illness and then all the talk of "cold hands" and "sinister matters". He didn't feel comfortable in this high faluting company but he would do whatever he could to help his friend.

Rocking slowly from side, his arms folded across his chest he cleared his throat to speak "Professor, me old granma used to say "Never look a gift horse in the mouth". I don't know much about faith healing and sinisterness and stuff but if there's anything I can do to help, you can count on me."

[Swordguy]

The small, slight man in the corner stood with a jerk, his chair clattering back against the wall. Adjusting his collar and rolling his head, he stepped forward towards the bed an the aged, reclining figure within.

"You're a good man, Cyrus, and I have no doubt you mean well, but this is my field and what you describe is simply a medical impossibility."

He looked around briefly, taking in the other faces, and then stepped forward, warming to the topic.

"Cancer of the lungs is an obvious and simple-to-diagnose issue. While I understand if it could be missed in the early stages, or even misdiagnosed, once identified and located within the lungs, it should be impossible to miss. Simply impossible. And, I'm afraid that cancer does not simply disappear. It might go into remission for a time, or even, over a period of time, vanish - though that's exceedingly rare - but to disappear overnight? It doesn't happen."

Adjusting this collar again, he stepped closer to the bed, lowering himself to bring his eyes level with Walters.

"I don't mean to take your hope away, but I feel that I must be the voice of reason here. I will of course assist you in any way I can, but is there any way you can give me the name of your doctor? If he's misdiagnosed you..."

He trails off for a moment.

"In any case, Cyrus, I'll be glad to help you."

[Calinero]

Cyrus gave a small smile at his friends' reactions to his story. He straightened in his chair, and looked at each of them.

"I know that to some of you, this may sounds "crazy." Or "medically impossible." However, I stand by what I have said--no matter how little sense it may make. Believe me, friends, I know that what I say is odd. I myself am slightly surprised to hear the words come out of my mouth. That is why I have come to you. If there is some sort of rational explanation to these events that I have missed, I would love to know it. If I have been deceiving myself, or am indeed "crazy".....I would like to know. And if there is something amiss....then I would not rest easily without having done something."

He turned to look at Charles, the private investigator.

"Charles, I know that not everyone here is as used to investigating things as you. However, they are not without talents of their own. Their most important quality--a quality you all share, in fact--is that they have my trust. All of you gathered here are the few I would trust with my story, without fear of misunderstanding or being committed. I know that for most of you, this is an unfamiliar task--but I trust that you all are more than capable of it. Even if you do not believe yourself to be so."

"Your concerns for my health are touching, but I assure you all that I am very healthy right now. That is what disturbs me so--I feel better than I have in years. I have visited more than one doctor, and they assure me that I am totally healthy. This is why I believe that this faith healer truly has something to his name--but not necessarily anything good."

"I do not know how to advise you to begin your search--I have never tried anything like this before. However, the library of the Miskatonic University is at your disposal, and I have a friend on the staff of The Boston Globe who might be able to get you a look into their records. Other than that, I can give you nothing except the location of the church, and when Stane next holds his sermon."

Cyrus gives you the address of the Church of Christ, Our Healer. Stane holds his sermons every Sunday. Today is Wednesday.

[Oathtaker]

Rising from his chair, Charles begins to speak.

“Cyrus my old friend, if you are really worried about this of course I will help. And if you believe that these fine folk will help, well you’ve never led me astray before."

He then begins to speak with the others.

“Since our mutual friend asks for our help, and he never has struck me as a man of rashness. If we are to work to the same goal, I will not go on without knowing your names, at the least. My names Charles, and I find things, things people lost.”

“And you, my religious friend, what do you bring to the table”

[Lycan 01]

The Father turns to face Charles and beams a polite smile. "My name is Father Josef Gregory. I am a priest at the local Catholic church, help people find God. Thank you for asking, Mr. Charles. Now, who might you be?" Father Gregory asks, arching an eyebrow at the archeologist beside him.

[DeathBD]

Trevor shifted backward a bit, feeling dwarfed by the priest who was nearly a full foot taller than him. Scratching the back of his neck, he answered shortly, "Trevor Libby; archaeologist," waiting for the next person to take their cue. His gaze switched to the empty space to his right, trying to piece his friend's story together logically.

[BornAgainGamer]

Relaxing, Bob unfolded his arms. "Bob, Bob Tucker. Deputy with the Arkham Police Department. Pleased to meet you all. Now, doc, how about you check the professor out again. No harm in another look to see if there is any side effects of this faith healer's work." He turned and looked expectantly at the younger man to his right.

[Swordguy]

The small man looked up from the notebook in which he had been busily jotting - something - during the introductions, and quirked his eyebrow at Bob's business-like tone.

I'm afraid, Bob, that simply "checking him out" is a waste of time without resources that I have no access to here in Cyrus's home. I could certainly administer a simple physical, but the equipment to check for the presence of lung cancer is both bulky and specialized, and," he looked around dramatically, "I don't see any of it here. I could have just missed it though. Do think it could have been stolen? Should I call a policeman to help find it?"

He paused for a moment, stuffing the worn notebook back into his jacket pocket with consternation.

"Without that equipment - and about a week's worth of time - I can't administer the tests that would help us, which is why I asked for the name of Cyrus's physician - whom I could ask for his charts.

"Now, that issue aside, my name is Thomas. Doctor Thomas van Allister - and no, before you ask, not one of THOSE van Allisters. A pleasure to meet you all. And my apologies, Bob. I can get a little brusque on occasion.

"So if the introductions are all out of the way, may I suggest we leave Cyrus to his rest and adjourn to somewhere where we can discuss how we plan to do this? Preferably someplace with food?"

[Calinero]

Cyrus nods, and pulls out a small slip of paper. On it is written the name of his doctor, Dr. Harold Callahan. It also names the hospital where he works, the Boston Medical Center.

"Thank you for your thoroughness, Thomas. However, I'm sure that you will find that he is correct--I feel perfectly fine.

He looks to the others.

"If you all wish to begin your investigation, then feel free to do so. I know of a restaurant down the street that might be conducive to your thought processes--after all, everyone thinks better on a full stomach."

The restaurant, called Bruno's Diner, is about a block away. It's nearly noon, and your investigators are probably a bit hungry.

[Oathtaker]

"Seems like a good idea, no use getting riled up on an empty stomache."
Charles speaks around to the others

"Shall we eat then?"

[Calinero]

Father Gregory says nothing, watching everyone else to gauge their reactions.

((go ahead, DeathBD))

[DeathBD]

"Hm? Wha- Oh, eat." Trevor slipped half-way out of his trance, noticing his hunger at the mention of food. "Yeah. I'm.. a bit hungry, I suppose."

His attention turned back to the group. "So, are we going?"

[BornAgainGamer]

Bob was beginning to feel even further out of his depth. The prolonged silence of the good father and Mr Libby only served to heighten his anxiety. He began pacing backwards and forwards, impatiently wringing his hands together. He was used to being involved in real police work with real criminals to apprehend or real people to protect ... none of this mumbo jumbo stuff. He wanted to get out and go and talk with his chief and his beloved Elaine. To cap it all, he suffered a merciless ribbing from the doc - he would have to be wary of that one. The mention of food snapped him out of his internal dialogue and he realised with a grin that it was a long time since breakfast

"Well, as me old granma used to say 'an army cannot march on an empty stomach'. Let's go".

He moved forward to shake the professors hand and remarked

"Now look professor, you look after yourself. And, if you need to get hold of me just call in at the station or with Elaine. I'll make sure they know where I am". His soft Irish brogue betrayed the feelings of concern he held for his friend's fate.

With that he made for the exit, for the first time since entering the professor's study, with a sense of purpose, at least they were doing something.

[Swordguy]

Thomas strode quickly towards the door, with a last lingering look and a wry but sympathetic smile at the bedridden man.

"Harold Callahan...", he muttered to himself thoughtfully as he settled the black fedora on his brow.

[Calinero]

Bruno's Diner is a short walk away. It is nicely decorated, not a fancy restaurant but by no means a slum. Once inside, you are given a booth large enough to fit the five of you. After a few minutes, a waiter comes by and takes your drinks and asks for your orders. The restaurant serves standard fare--sandwiches, hot dogs, hamburgers, standard "American" food. Nothing particularly fancy. Other than that, you are left to yourselves.

[Oathtaker]

"A plan, we need a plan. I know some people in Boston I can contact, some old frieds in the force and some men who I've trained to speak when bills cross their palms."

Charles bites into his sandwitch "So have any of you, Bob excluded of course, ever do any ditective work before?

[BornAgainGamer]

Wiping the last crumb of Hot Dog from the corner of his mouth with a paper napkin, Bob joined in the conversation "Well Charles, I don't get to do a lot of detective work really but I know some people that do. How about I head down the station and put some feelers out about this Stane feller?".

Bob was happy that his skills could prove useful, "Another thing, how about we stakeout that church place where the professor went to see Stane. Never know what we might find"

[Swordguy]

"Hmmm...Looking around at that church may well be a good idea. We can see if there's any sort of trickery set up there."

Thomas took a long sip from his Coke, and leaned forward, dropping his voice.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take a day and go see Doctor Callahan and examine Cyrus's medical records. The only way to detect the presence or absence of lung cancer, aside from taking a biopsy of course, is via an X-ray- though I hear they're coming out with some new topology techniques pioneered in the war that may help. The X-ray can detect widening of the mediastinum, lung atelectasis, consolidation, or pleural effusion, and can..." He trailed off, looking around at the blank faces surrounding him at the table.

"In any case, I'd like to look at the X-rays from when he was diagnosed and after he was declared 'cured'. I know it's tempting to believe in faith cures - no offense, Preacher - but I saw a lot of kids die in the war who prayed mighty hard, so I'm a bit skeptical of the power of faith unassisted to fix the body.

"It ought to take me a day or so to look up Harold and examine the charts, and I don't anticipate any issues getting them. Hell, h's probably wondering about asking for a second opinion or peer review as we speak. Why don't I give him a call after we're done here, and then we can head over to wherever we decide to go next? I'll go examine the records tomorrow morning if he has no problems with it."

[Lycan 01]

"Hmmm..." Father Gregory ponders to himself, staring down at his tomatoe soup. "Gentlemen, I think one of us should do a bit more snooping in terms of files and papers. Perhaps I should check out the man that Cyrus mentioned at the Globe? He might have some reports or stories about the "Faith Healer" and his practice. Once I'm done there, I think I'll go see what I can dig up at the Miskatonic Library about Faith Healing and other... unsavory things..."

He paused for a moment, and then continued on: "Perhaps I should speak with the Arkham Police Department? They may have records on the man and his little congregation..." the old Priest put a little extra emphasis on the last part. It wasn't that he held a grudge against the church's followers - he just had a feeling that if there was something amiss with that man and his "Faith Healing," then there were members of his church who were involved in it. The question was... how deep did it go?

[Swordguy]

Excellent idea, Father." Thomas swigged the last of his Coke and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

We each of us have our particular specialties, and I suggest we take advantage of them. I propose the following:

"Bob, you check with the Arkham Police and see if they have any record of this 'Stane' character and his group.

"Trevor, if you can check with the papers and see if there's been any sort of record of these people - I know it's not archeology per se, but they may be more willing to let you look through the stacks and if you tell them it's for a research project. You could also check historical sources and see if this sort of thing has happened before, which is a bit more down your line.

"Charles, you should probably check out city hall and the public records section - that sort of thing must come up all the time in your line of work, right? If they're a church, then they're a matter of public record, as should be the donating members of their congregation, and Stane as their pastor should be on record as well. Churches are tax-exempt, so all of this SHOULD be publicly available. And if not, I think you're the best-suited of us to dig out that information via...other...means.

"Father, I think your research on faith healing is an excellent one. You might try the Miskatonic Library - the seminary program should have information on such events. You're also probably the best person to go around and talk to any ex-members of the congregation we may dig up.

"I'll check with Dr. Callahan, but on reflection I think I'd like to also ask around the various medical clinics in the area and see if Cyrus's experience of a long-term illness suddenly reversing itself is a wider trend. If Stane's done this to other people, and their experiences all match Cyrus's, and there is something bad about this "cure", then there may be a major public health risk in the making here. We don't need a repeat of of the influenza epidemic from a few years back."

[BornAgainGamer]

"Sounds like a good plan. Should we aim to meet back here the same time tomorrow to report back on what we've all discovered?" Bob interjected.

"These Hot Dogs are mighty fine, I'd have no problem with another one. Helps me think. Then we really need to think about investigating Stane's Church. We should do this before Sunday so that if we need to do anything at the service we can make a plan in advance"

Bob was looking forwards to getting back to Arkham police station and seeing the chief. He was also planning on stopping in to see Elaine on the way there just to warn her that he might be out of the way a bit for the next few days.

[Oathtaker]

"Good plan doctor, I'll swing by city hall as soon as we're done here. Any legit church will have at least the basic financial information, so we have a start there."

"I wouldn’t mind another chance for a meal here. So we meet back here tomorrow, have a bit of a sit down and talk things out."

Charles gestures for the bill from the waiter. "So I'm off to find a place to stay while here in town, the I'll head over to city hall and see what I can dig up>

[Calinero]

After a moment, the waiter comes by with the bill. He picks up the empty trays and looks at the assorted group.

"Are you gentlemen going to be needing anything else, or are you done with the table?"

[Lycan 01]

"I'll get started on my research as soon as we leave," Father Gregory nods. He then looks at the waiter and smiles: "My friend Bob seems to be enjoying the hot dogs quite a bit. I think I'll try one myself... I don't think I've tried one yet."

[BornAgainGamer]

GITP Slow ...

[BornAgainGamer]

"Ok. I'm going to head off back to the station now" said Bob as he handed over some cash to pay for his meal. "I suggest we all get back here at about 3 o'clock tomorrow to discuss progress. I'm going to see what I can dig up about Stane, the church and may be follow some other leads too".

Bob stood up, offered his hand to each of his companions in turn and then left the diner.

He made his way by foot, heading not directly for Arkham Constabulary but to his own home. When he got there, he let Elaine know that he was on an extended errand for the professor. Reassuring her that nothing was wrong, he said he would call by every day to let her know his whereabouts. After kissing her goodbye he headed for the police station.

A fine New England drizzle started as he walked the few blocks to his place of work. The city was going about it's daily routine seemingly unaware that anything strange was happening. "Well, I suppose nothing that strange really has happened", Bob muttered to himself. This would all blow over and he could get back to his boring but comfortable life.

He reached the station after a short while and entered the building. He made small talk briefly with Bill Burroughs, who was on duty at the front desk. They chatted about the Red Sox game at the weekend. Bob then made his way to his own desk upstairs. He gathered the chief was busy in some meeting with a local councillor so he had time to plan his investigation. Grabbing a fresh cup of tea he leaned back in his chair and pondered how best to tackle things.

[Calinero]

The waiter nods at Father Gregory and leaves. A few minutes later, he comes back with a hot dog for the priest.

"There you go. Just let me know if you need anything else," says the waiter. He then walks away, leaving the gentlemen to their discussion again.

((OOC: Bornagain, the attention to detail and description are appreciated, but try not to control things like the weather or NPCs too much. Good posts, though))

[Oathtaker]

"I know some people who might know a thing or two, so after I hit city hall I can see what I can do" Charles says

Charles heads off in the direction of city hall, wondering where this case could take him, and weather Cyrus has finally gone off his rocker. Stoping to light a cigarette, he stands and watches the pedestrians going back and forth.
<Wonder what Cyrus is paying us for this> Charles wonders silently to himself, <I guess, it doesn't really matter though.>

"Hello, where are public records?" Charles asks at the front desk of city hall.

[Calinero]

The clerk, a middle aged man with a dark beard, pauses just before lighting a cigarette. He looks at Charles for a moment, then sighs and puts away his cigarette. He rises to his feet with a grimace.

"Right this way, sir."

He walks you over to the bookshelves and filing cabinets which hold all the sorts of information you might be looking for. As soon as you are where you need to be, he goes back to his desk.

(if you are going to search for something, tell me what you are looking for, and make a Library Use roll. Be advised, each roll takes four hours.)

[BornAgainGamer]

Finishing his cup of tea, Bob set about his task at the Arkham police station. It was a laborious job searching through the boxes and boxes of files for a small clue that might provide some insight into the professor's problems. Bob stuck to it diligently only pausing every once in a while to stretch his legs and make another pot of tea.

[BornAgainGamer]

Many hours had passed and the prolonged focus on the small type and sometimes illegible handwriting in the many records and files he had digested, had taken its toll on Bob. He would have to call it a day. His searching had not been fruitless and he looked forward to sharing the information he had gleaned with his new found comrades back at the diner tomorrow. Before he left for home and a soft mattress, he made sure that he had put all the boxes and files back in their proper place. As he finally left the building he waved a quick farewell to the duty sergeant and headed out into the Arkham night.