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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Our DC:TAS game from a couple of weeks ago.

Several of our characters carry the mini-bolos found the in the 5th ed. Dark Champions Utility Belt.

 

One player asks me, "So how many bolos do you have?"

I replied, "Three."

 

Another player responded, "If you have three Bolos, I think we can take anything."

Knowing what he meant I said, "At 2 Megatons/second firepower per main battery per Bolo, yes I think we're good."

 

The first player said, ""I don't think you did the points right if you have that kind of Bolo."

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Our DC:TAS game from a couple of weeks ago.

Several of our characters carry the mini-bolos found the in the 5th ed. Dark Champions Utility Belt.

 

One player asks me, "So how many bolos do you have?"

I replied, "Three."

 

Another player responded, "If you have three Bolos, I think we can take anything."

Knowing what he meant I said, "At 2 Megatons/second firepower per main battery per Bolo, yes I think we're good."

 

The first player said, ""I don't think you did the points right if you have that kind of Bolo."

 

 

 

Was there a spontaneous shout of "For the honor of the Dinochrome Brigade!" from the other players

after what the first player said?

 

 

 

Major Tom 2009 :sneaky:

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Was there a spontaneous shout of "For the honor of the Dinochrome Brigade!" from the other players

after what the first player said?

 

 

 

Major Tom 2009 :sneaky:

 

Unfortunately not.

Only the second player and I are Laumer fans.

Nobody else got it until I made the comment about 2 megatons/second firepower.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

In the swashbuckling Jane Austen's Cthulu game I run:

 

Character List:

Sir Jesua, a portrait painter, minor celebrity and enormous queen.

Sir Gregoras Kinski, a psychopath who fancies himself a lady's man.

Sir Jacob Luimes, a drunkard and a soldier.

Father Luimes, Sir Jacob's brother. A rather unpious priest.

Luigi Popodopolos, an honest merchant of foreign extraction.

 

Cowardly portrait painter Sir Jesua receives a letter from a lady begging for his help in a matter of great delicacy. It is signed only Lady P.

 

Me (OOC): Quick I need the name of an inn for Sir Jesua to meet Lady P. in.

Chris (OOC): The Golden Swallow.

Me: The letter asks you to meet Lady P in the Golden Swallow.

Everyone Else(OOC):

 

A moment passes while the penny drops.

 

Me:

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

In the swashbuckling Jane Austen's Cthulu game I run:

 

Character List:

Sir Jesua, a portrait painter, minor celebrity and enormous queen.

Sir Gregoras Kinski, a psychopath who fancies himself a lady's man.

Sir Jacob Luimes, a drunkard and a soldier.

Father Luimes, Sir Jacob's brother. A rather unpious priest.

Luigi Popodopolos, an honest merchant of foreign extraction.

 

Cowardly portrait painter Sir Jesua receives a letter from a lady begging for his help in a matter of great delicacy. It is signed only Lady P.

 

Me (OOC): Quick I need the name of an inn for Sir Jesua to meet Lady P. in.

Chris (OOC): The Golden Swallow.

Me: The letter asks you to meet Lady P in the Golden Swallow.

Everyone Else(OOC):

 

A moment passes while the penny drops.

 

Me:

 

 

 

Was this your group's first experience with the unexpected manifestation of a Smut Field?

 

 

 

Major Tom 2009 :sneaky:

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Well it's a new group' date=' 2 people I've gamed with before and 3 I haven't. And this was only our 3rd session. But despite this, no. I have managed to find one very smutty bunch of players. This quote is just the most memorable from our 3 sessions so far.[/quote']

 

Trust me, nowhere to go but down.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Trust me' date=' nowhere to go but down.[/quote']

 

 

 

It's posts like that that lead me to suspect that:

 

A.) There's some as-yet undiscovered element in the Australian environment that makes it

possible for Smut Fields to manifest themselves under the right conditions, or

 

B.) The Bushmen are doing something...interesting...with the Dreamtime.

 

 

 

Major Tom 2009 :eg:

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Masks of Nyarlathotep, Episodes 2 & 3 - New York

 

Because I still haven't got the sound files for the second session of Masks off Ian, I'll recreate what I can recall. Spoilers ahead.

 

January 19th, 1925 - Professor Einstein gets in contact with Roger Carlyle’s sister Erica, in an attempt to learn more about her late brother’s doomed expedition, and hopefully secretly obtain the books mentioned by Elias that are “in Carlyle’s safe”. This is unfruitful, as Erica seems entirely unwilling to discuss her sibling, and declines the request for an interview. Refusing to take no for an answer, the investigators decide to gatecrash the War Orphan Charity Ball she’s hosting at the Carlyle Estate out on Long Island.

GM
: What a pity Aldous isn’t with you – he could have visited all his old friends in Sing-Sing.

 

Timmons, for some reason best known to himself, decides to dress himself and his dog in top hat and monocle.

 

GM
: So we’ve got a bulldog in top hat and monocle, and the Professor, a bulldog in a dress.

Prof. Einstein
: This is why I hang around with you people – true, you constantly insult me, but at least the insults are always original.

 

The party manage to bluff their way passed the front gate, assuming that the dog is Einstein’s, on the grounds that dogs eventually look like their owners, but aren’t so lucky at the door, where Erica and her bodyguard are greeting guests – and the bodyguard certainly recognises the Professor’s name as somebody who was refused permission to visit.

 

The party split up and try to merge with the crowd inside, but it’s not long before security has the Professor cornered and is escorting her to the rear gate. She attempts to make a scene, but the bodyguard merely suggests to the other guests that “madam started drinking early” and locks her in the library instead.

 

To say that the rest of the evening does not go as planned is an understatement. True, they locate the safe, but Johnson is also spotted where he was hiding behind a bookshelf, and does the investigators’ credibility no good at all when the security pat-down reveals he was carrying knives, guns, and dynamite. All in all, the four are fortunate that they were merely delivered to the police and held overnight, to avoid embarrassing Ms. Carlyle. It may be sour grapes talking, but the investigators are now certain that Ms. Carlyle had her brother killed, is sacrificing war orphans, and is a leader in the Cult of the Bloody Tongue.

 

GM
: Perhaps you should interrogate her dentist, then.

 

 

January 20th, 1925 - Foiled in their attempt to steal Carlyle's books, the investigators turn to McGinty for advice - surely he, if anybody, knows criminal scum that can do the job. He gleefully suggests one Honourable Lord Frontbottom, the strange individual he was seen to associate with after the mysterious asylum fire on North Island. Predictably enough, Frontbottom is a violently insane and delusional escapee from that institution. But he does have some stealth skills - after all, if he didn't, it would be harder to sneak up on somebody and stab them in the face.

 

GM
: You know, I think you're getting this back to front. You're supposed to do the investigations, go insane, and get locked up - not break the lunatics out, and send them off to do investigations.

 

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: My parents saved time and just called me Lord.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: I see.

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: But that's not my first name.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Oh? What is your first name?

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: Honourable.

 

Frontbottom goes in alone, and despite some delay dodging the oddly heavy security, and hanging sideways off the building trying to pry the windows open, makes off with the bundle.The rest of the investigators settle down to browse the contents of the purloined literature, with the exception of Aldous Quinn. He's seen what's happened to everybody else that reads dusty old books, and thus avoids any reading material remotely outré. Probably just as well, as the books include some disturbing poetry, some disturbing mythology, some disturbing grimoire excerpts, and an incredibly disturbing diary of an Englishman who became a member of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh.

 

January 23rd, 1925 - They spend so much time reading the books that they miss Elias' funeral, but their discoveries do have some worrying implications. Not least, it implies a connection between the Cult of the Bloody Tongue, and the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh. Renewed interrogation of the cult victim's relatives seems in order, and those interviews lead to some important clues - most importantly that suspected cult members congregate at a certain speakeasy in Harlem.

 

This discovery leads to the realisation that they're going to have to act fast - according to the books, the cult rituals are most commonly held on nights of the new moon ( as befits a god of darkness ) and the very next morning will offer a total eclipse of the sun, visible from New York.

 

Thus, Lt. Poole is advised of the information, and he, the agents, and a small mob of police pour into the speakeasy, truncheons blazing. The customers attempt to flee, but police brutality and Timmons' use of a sword-cane ensure a number of them won't be going home tonight. Or ever. So it's probably unfortunate that none of them are actually cultists. This distresses Rondale, who only got into fighting the Mythos out of his desire to protect the innocent.

 

Leaving Poole and his officers merrily subduing the customers and carting them off to the Tombs, the Agents and Timmons rush around to the Ju-Ju House, now firmly of the opinion that Silas N'Kwame is a member of the cult. Happily, they're actually right this time, judging by the frenzied drumming coming from the concealed basement of the building, and the testimony of the drunks sheltering from the frigid weather around the courtyard.

 

Unfortunately, there are rather more cultists than expected - nearly fifty. And they have two black youths being prepared for sacrifice. And the cult leader, a bizarre clawed figure in a shimmering rainbow cloak, and leering tribal mask, shrugs off a rifle shot to the chest and a particularly lethal spell with no visible effect, and nearly tears out Johnson's heart out of his chest - from across the room - in retaliation.

 

Happily for the characters, a couple of grenades and dragon's breath shotgun rounds stuns the mob long enough for Timmons to get in, grab the two children, and leg it, without more than a nick to one ear. Johnson throws his bandolier of dynamite onto the pile of burning cultists, and the trio leg it, despite a brief delay dealing with the hobos, who were actually armed guards for the cult.

 

Rondale's last glimpse of the cult hideout is particularly distressing, since it reveals the fate of his friend and employee Talbot Vine, who was kidnapped from his workplace in Arkham by Egyptian cultists, some weeks previously. His mutilated and disembowelled corpse, carrying a shotgun, is lurching up the stairs after them.

 

January 24th, 1925 - With the Ju-Ju House gone up in a ball of fire and stuffed giraffes, the investigators decide what to do next. Letting Poole know about the mistaken raid seems like a good idea - he's less than pleased when the agents advise him to turn all the prisoners loose. Returning the children to their parents also seems laudable - it ventures that a large number of children have been going missing around Harlem over the last few years, but since the victims were all poor and black, the police instead focused their attention on a handful of white murders. Ah, the joys of the 1920s.

 

Worse, the discovery that their friend Vine was murdered and resurrected by the Bloody Tongue Cult proves a connection to the Boston-based Cthulhu Cult and one Carl Stanford as well. This co-operation between cults is highly disturbing.

 

Raid on Speakeasy nets killers

 

Acting on information received, a force of thirty police from the Manhattan Precinct, reinforced by armed government agents, descended on an illegal drinking establishment on Lennox and 106th street late last night, and successfully captured almost forty criminals despite stiff resistance. The raid ends months of careful investigation into a string of murders across the city, including that of author Jackson Elias earlier in the week.

An unknown number of suspects were killed while resisting arrest. Lt. Martin Poole, Detective, told reporters that the arrests would lead to a number of convictions, and was very satisfied with the actions of his officers. Two police were slightly injured.

 

Wrecked By Explosion - Explosions and Fire Destroy Harlem Business in Early Morning

 

Harlem, N.Y. - The ground floor of a business off Lennox Ave was destroyed by explosions and fire soon after 12:30 o’clock this morning. Firemen attributed the destruction to a gas explosion. The entire front of the business was blown into the street, the interior bursting into flames.

Three men are known to have been seriously injured in the explosion, and it is feared the proprietor was inside at the time.

 

The investigators, being utter bastards, send the police into the ruins of the cult temple to clean up. At least that way they get to stay outside and enjoy the eclipse, thankfully lacking in eldritch horror due to their swift action. The unfortunate police, no doubt still aching from their busy evening of beating innocent citizens to death, start removing bodies that they weren’t personally responsible for. Notably without any sign of the robed figure among the remains. But soon there's a headlong rush from the building. Apparently the police discovered a well underneath a concrete cover, but the hideous chorus of human wailing that arose when they pried it open drove them off in sheer panic.

 

The investigators are forced to investigate, but the horror they uncover is unharmed by gunfire or explosives, and they beat feet. Somehow convincing Lt. Poole that the basement is filled with lethal sewer gas and that the screaming is merely a wax cylinder recording, they opt to flood the entire basement with liquid concrete, regardless of the remaining corpses, and any clues that may have been found in the Bloody Tongue shrine.

 

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Well, we've invented a new way to dispose of unwanted human remains - we'll call it a cementery

GM
: Thank you, Alan - your character has just volunteered to investigate the next scene of horror.

Agent Rondale
: That's a good idea - instead of rocks fall, everybody dies, anyone who comes up with a pun that awful volunteers to scout ahead.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: I feel persecuted.

Agent Rondale
: And so you should.

 

Considering this avenue of exploration closed, and despite the apparent escape of the cult leader, they prepare to leave New York for London, to try and find out whatever Elias had learned there prior to his ghastly demise. Rondale will not be going - he feels that remaining at his desk in New York will be more useful to the investigation, and would preset to send expendable and deniable assets like Frontbottom in his stead. Indeed, if he never sees Frontbottom again he'll be quite happy.

 

Aldous Quinn
: I’m going to get some cigarettes, too.

GM
: May I recommend
?

Aldous Quinn
: NO.

 

January 25th, 1925 - Enter Abbagale Stance, spunky reporter for the New York Pillar-Riposte.

 

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: What's the chance of her being a priest? I'll tell you – Nun

ALL
: *
groan
*

Agent Johnson
: Why would she want to be a nun, anyway?

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Maybe she got into the habit?

Aldous Quinn’s player
: Congratulations, Alan - in the ten years I've put up with your puns, you've actually found two that were funny.

 

Abbagale had been sent to cover the Carlyle charity event, but also desired to write real news. Which may explain why she was in Harlem in the middle of the night, and why she recognised Rondale and the others from both scenes. And the news stories about the explosion at the Ju-Ju House bear little resemblance to what she saw.

Scenting a story, she fast-talks some details out of the cops, gets in contact with Rondale, and bluffs her way into the investigation.

 

GM
: I look forward to seeing you explain this to your father, the Editor. 'Hi, Daddy! I'm going on an expedition with a government agent, a thirty-one year old university student, an escaped lunatic, and a convicted felon!' Won't he be pleased.

 

Before very long she makes the connection to the Carlyle expedition, and the hospitalization of the Massachusetts Governor Patrick McGinty, and the story is looking bigger than ever, even if considerably more alarming.

 

GM
: What’s a good Backronym for ONI, after your performance the last few days? ‘Outstanding Nitwits Incorporated?’

 

Rondale sends her up to Arkham to meet Agent Johnson, who has been spending the week recovering from his impromptu heart surgery and packing suitcases full of ammunition. He does not make a good impression, and the extra security on the house - bars on all the windows, upstairs bedrooms that lock from the outside, and door handles hooked up to the mains - leaves her distinctly alarmed.

 

GM
: Perhaps you should have steamed the letter open to see what it said, before you came up here.

Abbagale Stance
: Didn't think of that - I'm not that paranoid yet.

Agent Rondale
: You will be....
you will be.

 

Johnson’s Shoulder-demon
: You should probably just shoot her

Johnson’s Shoulder-angel
: It
would
be the merciful thing to do...

 

In fact, it's Frontbottom that lays on the charm, despite the fact he spent the evening spying on the house from the roof of Rondale and McGinty's Automotive and Electrical Repair, across the street, and battling McGinty's security geese.

 

GM
: Incredible, isn't it - the actually sane agent is the one that spent the evening silently glowering at you..

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: ...and the face-stabbing lunatic is the one serving tea and crumpets.

 

Although Frontbottom offer to cook dinner doesn't help, when that meal is goose soaked in gasoline and set alight. At least Johnson, Frontbottom, Einstein and Stance can enjoy a nice game of Mah-Jong after dinner, before Abbagale retires to the guest room, Johnson to the armoury in the fortified basement, and Einstein escorts Frontbottom to the door. It's about this time an unexpected guest arrives, in the form of a gigantic viperine flying abomination, vaguely reminiscent of Tenniel's Jabberwock, that crashes through the roof, takes a brief interest in Prof. Einstein, then spots its actual prey and pursues Agent Johnson down into the basement, hideously creaking his name.

 

Fortunately for Johnson, McGinty and Rondale once built a secret tunnel between the house and the business opposite, and that tunnel is slightly too narrow for the creature to enter after him. But that leaves him the problem of what to do now - even the tommygum he grabbed as he fled is having no visible effect as he blazes away at the creature. He briefly considers throwing a bundle of dynamite, but given the basement is filled with a large quantity of cordite, blasting caps, grenades, more dynamite, and assorted incendiaries, that would probably be a spectacularly bad idea.

 

But Frontbottom soon joins him in the tunnel, entering from the far end (despite the surviving geese) and his slightly higher calibre rifle proves sufficient to wound the creature. Either that or it didn't like the brightness of their flashlight. It takes its leave, flapping horribly into the dark winter sky, dripping ichor as it heads south-west, with Johnson and Frontbottom attempting pursuit by truck. Strangely enough, even the sane one doesn't question the sanity of such an attempt.

 

Meanwhile, Abbagale Stance cautiously emerges from her bedroom once the screaming and gunfire has ended. She doesn't find any human remains - an ambivalent result - and some of the other basement contents make her wonder just what on Earth she's stumbled into. Why, for example, do they have a stone arch labelled 'garbage disposal' and what's with the coffin inscribed 'reserved for previous occupant'?

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Awesome as always' date=' Drhoz, and Repped.[/quote']

 

I forgot Ian's response when he listened to the recording and found out what had happened to his property in Arkham

 

Paddy McGinty : I'm going to evict the ONI team. And this is what I'm going to say to them. You can **** off. And when you get there, **** off from there too. Then **** off some more. In fact, keep ****ing off until you get back here. Then **** off again.

GM : So, it's OK when you trash somebody else's property, but not OK when one of your properties gets trashed?

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Masks of Nyarlathotep' date=' Episodes 2 & 3 - New York[/b']

 

Because I still haven't got the sound files for the second session of Masks off Ian, I'll recreate what I can recall. Spoilers ahead.

 

January 19th, 1925 - Professor Einstein gets in contact with Roger Carlyle’s sister Erica, in an attempt to learn more about her late brother’s doomed expedition, and hopefully secretly obtain the books mentioned by Elias that are “in Carlyle’s safe”. This is unfruitful, as Erica seems entirely unwilling to discuss her sibling, and declines the request for an interview. Refusing to take no for an answer, the investigators decide to gatecrash the War Orphan Charity Ball she’s hosting at the Carlyle Estate out on Long Island.

GM
: What a pity Aldous isn’t with you – he could have visited all his old friends in Sing-Sing.

 

Timmons, for some reason best known to himself, decides to dress himself and his dog in top hat and monocle.

GM
: So we’ve got a bulldog in top hat and monocle, and the Professor, a bulldog in a dress.

Prof. Einstein
: This is why I hang around with you people – true, you constantly insult me, but at least the insults are always original.

 

The party manage to bluff their way passed the front gate, assuming that the dog is Einstein’s, on the grounds that dogs eventually look like their owners, but aren’t so lucky at the door, where Erica and her bodyguard are greeting guests – and the bodyguard certainly recognises the Professor’s name as somebody who was refused permission to visit.

 

The party split up and try to merge with the crowd inside, but it’s not long before security has the Professor cornered and is escorting her to the rear gate. She attempts to make a scene, but the bodyguard merely suggests to the other guests that “madam started drinking early” and locks her in the library instead.

 

To say that the rest of the evening does not go as planned is an understatement. True, they locate the safe, but Johnson is also spotted where he was hiding behind a bookshelf, and does the investigators’ credibility no good at all when the security pat-down reveals he was carrying knives, guns, and dynamite. All in all, the four are fortunate that they were merely delivered to the police and held overnight, to avoid embarrassing Ms. Carlyle. It may be sour grapes talking, but the investigators are now certain that Ms. Carlyle had her brother killed, is sacrificing war orphans, and is a leader in the Cult of the Bloody Tongue.

GM
: Perhaps you should interrogate her dentist, then.

 

 

January 20th, 1925 - Foiled in their attempt to steal Carlyle's books, the investigators turn to McGinty for advice - surely he, if anybody, knows criminal scum that can do the job. He gleefully suggests one Honourable Lord Frontbottom, the strange individual he was seen to associate with after the mysterious asylum fire on North Island. Predictably enough, Frontbottom is a violently insane and delusional escapee from that institution. But he does have some stealth skills - after all, if he didn't, it would be harder to sneak up on somebody and stab them in the face.

GM
: You know, I think you're getting this back to front. You're supposed to do the investigations, go insane, and get locked up - not break the lunatics out, and send them off to do investigations.

 

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: My parents saved time and just called me Lord.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: I see.

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: But that's not my first name.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Oh? What is your first name?

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: Honourable.

 

Frontbottom goes in alone, and despite some delay dodging the oddly heavy security, and hanging sideways off the building trying to pry the windows open, makes off with the bundle.The rest of the investigators settle down to browse the contents of the purloined literature, with the exception of Aldous Quinn. He's seen what's happened to everybody else that reads dusty old books, and thus avoids any reading material remotely outré. Probably just as well, as the books include some disturbing poetry, some disturbing mythology, some disturbing grimoire excerpts, and an incredibly disturbing diary of an Englishman who became a member of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh.

 

January 23rd, 1925 - They spend so much time reading the books that they miss Elias' funeral, but their discoveries do have some worrying implications. Not least, it implies a connection between the Cult of the Bloody Tongue, and the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh. Renewed interrogation of the cult victim's relatives seems in order, and those interviews lead to some important clues - most importantly that suspected cult members congregate at a certain speakeasy in Harlem.

 

This discovery leads to the realisation that they're going to have to act fast - according to the books, the cult rituals are most commonly held on nights of the new moon ( as befits a god of darkness ) and the very next morning will offer a total eclipse of the sun, visible from New York.

 

Thus, Lt. Poole is advised of the information, and he, the agents, and a small mob of police pour into the speakeasy, truncheons blazing. The customers attempt to flee, but police brutality and Timmons' use of a sword-cane ensure a number of them won't be going home tonight. Or ever. So it's probably unfortunate that none of them are actually cultists. This distresses Rondale, who only got into fighting the Mythos out of his desire to protect the innocent.

 

Leaving Poole and his officers merrily subduing the customers and carting them off to the Tombs, the Agents and Timmons rush around to the Ju-Ju House, now firmly of the opinion that Silas N'Kwame is a member of the cult. Happily, they're actually right this time, judging by the frenzied drumming coming from the concealed basement of the building, and the testimony of the drunks sheltering from the frigid weather around the courtyard.

 

Unfortunately, there are rather more cultists than expected - nearly fifty. And they have two black youths being prepared for sacrifice. And the cult leader, a bizarre clawed figure in a shimmering rainbow cloak, and leering tribal mask, shrugs off a rifle shot to the chest and a particularly lethal spell with no visible effect, and nearly tears out Johnson's heart out of his chest - from across the room - in retaliation.

 

Happily for the characters, a couple of grenades and dragon's breath shotgun rounds stuns the mob long enough for Timmons to get in, grab the two children, and leg it, without more than a nick to one ear. Johnson throws his bandolier of dynamite onto the pile of burning cultists, and the trio leg it, despite a brief delay dealing with the hobos, who were actually armed guards for the cult.

 

Rondale's last glimpse of the cult hideout is particularly distressing, since it reveals the fate of his friend and employee Talbot Vine, who was kidnapped from his workplace in Arkham by Egyptian cultists, some weeks previously. His mutilated and disembowelled corpse, carrying a shotgun, is lurching up the stairs after them.

 

January 24th, 1925 - With the Ju-Ju House gone up in a ball of fire and stuffed giraffes, the investigators decide what to do next. Letting Poole know about the mistaken raid seems like a good idea - he's less than pleased when the agents advise him to turn all the prisoners loose. Returning the children to their parents also seems laudable - it ventures that a large number of children have been going missing around Harlem over the last few years, but since the victims were all poor and black, the police instead focused their attention on a handful of white murders. Ah, the joys of the 1920s.

 

Worse, the discovery that their friend Vine was murdered and resurrected by the Bloody Tongue Cult proves a connection to the Boston-based Cthulhu Cult and one Carl Stanford as well. This co-operation between cults is highly disturbing.

Raid on Speakeasy nets killers

 

Acting on information received, a force of thirty police from the Manhattan Precinct, reinforced by armed government agents, descended on an illegal drinking establishment on Lennox and 106th street late last night, and successfully captured almost forty criminals despite stiff resistance. The raid ends months of careful investigation into a string of murders across the city, including that of author Jackson Elias earlier in the week.

An unknown number of suspects were killed while resisting arrest. Lt. Martin Poole, Detective, told reporters that the arrests would lead to a number of convictions, and was very satisfied with the actions of his officers. Two police were slightly injured.

 

Wrecked By Explosion - Explosions and Fire Destroy Harlem Business in Early Morning

 

Harlem, N.Y. - The ground floor of a business off Lennox Ave was destroyed by explosions and fire soon after 12:30 o’clock this morning. Firemen attributed the destruction to a gas explosion. The entire front of the business was blown into the street, the interior bursting into flames.

Three men are known to have been seriously injured in the explosion, and it is feared the proprietor was inside at the time.

 

The investigators, being utter bastards, send the police into the ruins of the cult temple to clean up. At least that way they get to stay outside and enjoy the eclipse, thankfully lacking in eldritch horror due to their swift action. The unfortunate police, no doubt still aching from their busy evening of beating innocent citizens to death, start removing bodies that they weren’t personally responsible for. Notably without any sign of the robed figure among the remains. But soon there's a headlong rush from the building. Apparently the police discovered a well underneath a concrete cover, but the hideous chorus of human wailing that arose when they pried it open drove them off in sheer panic.

 

The investigators are forced to investigate, but the horror they uncover is unharmed by gunfire or explosives, and they beat feet. Somehow convincing Lt. Poole that the basement is filled with lethal sewer gas and that the screaming is merely a wax cylinder recording, they opt to flood the entire basement with liquid concrete, regardless of the remaining corpses, and any clues that may have been found in the Bloody Tongue shrine.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Well, we've invented a new way to dispose of unwanted human remains - we'll call it a cementery

GM
: Thank you, Alan - your character has just volunteered to investigate the next scene of horror.

Agent Rondale
: That's a good idea - instead of rocks fall, everybody dies, anyone who comes up with a pun that awful volunteers to scout ahead.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: I feel persecuted.

Agent Rondale
: And so you should.

 

Considering this avenue of exploration closed, and despite the apparent escape of the cult leader, they prepare to leave New York for London, to try and find out whatever Elias had learned there prior to his ghastly demise. Rondale will not be going - he feels that remaining at his desk in New York will be more useful to the investigation, and would preset to send expendable and deniable assets like Frontbottom in his stead. Indeed, if he never sees Frontbottom again he'll be quite happy.

Aldous Quinn
: I’m going to get some cigarettes, too.

GM
: May I recommend
?

Aldous Quinn
: NO.

 

January 25th, 1925 - Enter Abbagale Stance, spunky reporter for the New York Pillar-Riposte.

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: What's the chance of her being a priest? I'll tell you – Nun

ALL
: *
groan
*

Agent Johnson
: Why would she want to be a nun, anyway?

Prof. Deborah Einstein
: Maybe she got into the habit?

Aldous Quinn’s player
: Congratulations, Alan - in the ten years I've put up with your puns, you've actually found two that were funny.

 

Abbagale had been sent to cover the Carlyle charity event, but also desired to write real news. Which may explain why she was in Harlem in the middle of the night, and why she recognised Rondale and the others from both scenes. And the news stories about the explosion at the Ju-Ju House bear little resemblance to what she saw.

Scenting a story, she fast-talks some details out of the cops, gets in contact with Rondale, and bluffs her way into the investigation.

GM
: I look forward to seeing you explain this to your father, the Editor. 'Hi, Daddy! I'm going on an expedition with a government agent, a thirty-one year old university student, an escaped lunatic, and a convicted felon!' Won't he be pleased.

 

Before very long she makes the connection to the Carlyle expedition, and the hospitalization of the Massachusetts Governor Patrick McGinty, and the story is looking bigger than ever, even if considerably more alarming.

GM
: What’s a good Backronym for ONI, after your performance the last few days? ‘Outstanding Nitwits Incorporated?’

 

Rondale sends her up to Arkham to meet Agent Johnson, who has been spending the week recovering from his impromptu heart surgery and packing suitcases full of ammunition. He does not make a good impression, and the extra security on the house - bars on all the windows, upstairs bedrooms that lock from the outside, and door handles hooked up to the mains - leaves her distinctly alarmed.

GM
: Perhaps you should have steamed the letter open to see what it said, before you came up here.

Abbagale Stance
: Didn't think of that - I'm not that paranoid yet.

Agent Rondale
: You will be....
you will be.

 

Johnson’s Shoulder-demon
: You should probably just shoot her

Johnson’s Shoulder-angel
: It
would
be the merciful thing to do...

 

In fact, it's Frontbottom that lays on the charm, despite the fact he spent the evening spying on the house from the roof of Rondale and McGinty's Automotive and Electrical Repair, across the street, and battling McGinty's security geese.

GM
: Incredible, isn't it - the actually sane agent is the one that spent the evening silently glowering at you..

Hon. Lord Frontbottom
: ...and the face-stabbing lunatic is the one serving tea and crumpets.

 

Although Frontbottom offer to cook dinner doesn't help, when that meal is goose soaked in gasoline and set alight. At least Johnson, Frontbottom, Einstein and Stance can enjoy a nice game of Mah-Jong after dinner, before Abbagale retires to the guest room, Johnson to the armoury in the fortified basement, and Einstein escorts Frontbottom to the door. It's about this time an unexpected guest arrives, in the form of a gigantic viperine flying abomination, vaguely reminiscent of Tenniel's Jabberwock, that crashes through the roof, takes a brief interest in Prof. Einstein, then spots its actual prey and pursues Agent Johnson down into the basement, hideously creaking his name.

 

Fortunately for Johnson, McGinty and Rondale once built a secret tunnel between the house and the business opposite, and that tunnel is slightly too narrow for the creature to enter after him. But that leaves him the problem of what to do now - even the tommygum he grabbed as he fled is having no visible effect as he blazes away at the creature. He briefly considers throwing a bundle of dynamite, but given the basement is filled with a large quantity of cordite, blasting caps, grenades, more dynamite, and assorted incendiaries, that would probably be a spectacularly bad idea.

 

But Frontbottom soon joins him in the tunnel, entering from the far end (despite the surviving geese) and his slightly higher calibre rifle proves sufficient to wound the creature. Either that or it didn't like the brightness of their flashlight. It takes its leave, flapping horribly into the dark winter sky, dripping ichor as it heads south-west, with Johnson and Frontbottom attempting pursuit by truck. Strangely enough, even the sane one doesn't question the sanity of such an attempt.

 

Meanwhile, Abbagale Stance cautiously emerges from her bedroom once the screaming and gunfire has ended. She doesn't find any human remains - an ambivalent result - and some of the other basement contents make her wonder just what on Earth she's stumbled into. Why, for example, do they have a stone arch labelled 'garbage disposal' and what's with the coffin inscribed 'reserved for previous occupant'?

 

 

 

Damn...it really sucks when some evil high priest tries to pull a Richard Moll on one of

the PCs in a game.

 

 

 

Major Tom 2009 :sneaky:

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Damn...it really sucks when some evil high priest tries to pull a Richard Moll on one of

the PCs in a game.

 

nah, what sucks is that I forgot about the 2 HP rule in Cthulhu - if you're down to 2 hit points, you pass out. THAT would have made the getaway interesting... ah well, I'll remember next time.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Seconded. Every time I thought our gaming group had finally hit rock bottom' date=' somebody would grab a pick-axe and start digging.[/quote']

 

Amateurs. One group I GM'd would often reach bottom, and then break out the explosives.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Amateurs. One group I GM'd would often reach bottom' date=' and then break out the explosives.[/quote']

 

A champions group I ran back in college actually lost a fight with an elevator. It was a fight they picked, and the elevator exhibited only passive resistance.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Three Episode (9 months) into my Star Wars game, someone finally lost an arm. She looked around the room and said:

"Who's got one thumb and is catatonic? This guy!"

 

There was a break in the combat as everyone recovered from laughing.

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

At a D&D Next playtest at CONvergence (Minnesota gaming convention,) I was playing a human cleric. The rest of the party was a halfling rogue, elf mage, dwarf cleric, and dwarf warrior. After defeating a group of kobolds, we proceeded to another problem spot to find an undereducated human guarding a pen full of kobolds outside a cave, where presumably the major bad guys were waiting. The rogue kidnapped the guard, and we spent some time interrogating him, at which point the non-human party members decided it would be a good idea to dress me up in the guard's clothes and have me try and con my way into the base. As I'm talking to the equally undereducated guards, one of them notices something amiss and asks who I am. In OOC conversation, we come to the realization that we have no idea what the kidnapped guard's name was, or if we even asked. I make a Wisdom check to try and remember his name.

 

GM: You think it was Fred, or Frank, or Francis, something like that.

Me: I'm Fr-aaghah(coughcough), I watch the squeakers. ("Watching the squeakers" was something the guard had said a lot while we interviewed him.)

 

On the first round of the ensuing combat, I alert my fellow party members by shouting "THIS WAS A BAD PLAN!"

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Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

 

Lonewker's Rogue Trader game...

 

Eurydice - ex-sister of battle

Morgan - the captain

Vesperevaseraphangeline - the pilot

 

Eurydice: You cannot Tokyo-drift a 13 kilometer long ship!

Morgan: Don't say that, she takes that as a challenge.

Vesper: Yes you can!

GM: Just because Vesper doesn't know what the laws of physics are.....

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