I'm going to assume people saying to sleep who are still out and about either take their cars back to the abandoned building OR take the bus for the normal cost. Those of you not sleeping, I suggest you hurry to finish your actions so that we can move on to the next day. People asleep are basically waiting on you from now on.
Alexis peered at the symbol. Based on what she saw in the many-paged doorstopper the group used to pledge themselves to the Scholar In Red in the first place, she deducted that somebody or a group of somebodies pretty much walked down a similar path long ago. Where those people are now is clearly a mystery. Did they disband or are they dead? Alexis really hoped that whatever befell the World Eater's cultists doesn't bring her newfound group down as well. Oh well, one step at a time. Showing the others the rent for the basement in the university should it be true that the Scholar preferred it, Alexis yawned sleepily.
"If anyone wants to discuss this further, perhaps we can discuss this further in the morning. Right now, let's get some shut-eye."
Sleep and possibly have a dream.
Name: Alexis Ledbetter Cromwald
Appearance: Early thirties. Comely appearance and figure. Back-length curly blond hair. Coppery eyes. Wears an apron with pockets on the front.
Backstory: A former teacher who is the housewife of a domineering businessman, Alexis oftentimes fantasized about dealing with her husband Michael in brutal but creative ways. However, murder is social suicide in the age of improved forensics and profiling and divorce is out of the question as her husband provides her 'income' in the form of allowances. However, her chance encounter with the darkest mysteries of the world may very well give Alexis the power she craves... or it could send her plunging into a fate much worse than slaving to her idiotic brute of a husband.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d10
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d6
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
$129
Purse
"...You are free to do so, if you wish. I'm going to sleep."
Sleep.
Name: Ailn
Appearance: Wrinkly, frail, and raggedy. She's actually not very old, and much faster than she looks, but certainly has an unhealthy look about her. Dark hair and eyes.
Backstory: Child of wealth, persistent illness, oddly unbreakable will. She left, of course. She doesn't see much use in money, though her family makes sure she has plenty of it. She'd like to be able to cure her illness, and maybe make some sense of this crazy world. Maybe going a little crazy will help, if that's what it takes.
Physical stats:
Strength: d6
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d8
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d6
Guile: d10
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d12
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 0
World Stats:
Connections: d4
Possessions: d6
Money: d12
Standing: d4
Inventory:
old messenger bag
coffee mug
pair of dice
key ring
notebook
pen
$897
Go home and sleep.
Name: Richard Reed
Appearance: A well dressed man in his mid-twenties, he sports short brown hair and a well kempt mustache.
Backstory: Richard discovered the cult when one of his less prestigious connections informed him about otherwordly beings and of the knowledge these beings possess. Intent to learn this secret knowledge, he set out to join the cult.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d10
Willpower: d8
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: d4
World Stats:
Connections: d12
Possessions: d4
Money: d6
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Notebook
Pen
Drawing of the sigil and the visions.
$694
Snooooooooooore~
Name: Lance Robbins
Appearance: Bruised and batter, a shaved head, a smile like a serial killer, he's nearly the text book definition of "thug"
Backstory: Lance grow up in household with lower expectations, and managed to not even reach that. He spent his years boozing, smoking, and brawling his time away. He overheard a drunk in the alley talking about type of "ritual thing" and decided to check it out. Not as if he has anything better to do with his life.
Physical stats:
Strength: d8
Dexterity: d12
Speed: d10
Endurance: d8
Awareness:d6
Guile: d6
Knowledge: d4
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d4
Possessions: d12
Money: d8
Standing: d4
Inventory: [Money roll: 1] [Possessions roll: 4]
$91 U.S dollars
Spanner
Flask of Alcohol
Carton of cigarettes
Zippo lighter
Cooler full of ice and beer
Magazines found around my house
Go to sleep somewhere close to the orb. Try to dream, if I can.
Name: Micolash Cage
Appearance: A man with messy curly black hair and an eternal grin on his face.
Backstory: He used to work as a librarian, in which he found a book about the occult, and decided to join a cult for fun and knowledge. Fascinated in learning and gaining insight of the world and the cosmos.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d8
Knowledge: d12
Willpower: d10
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 0
World Stats:
Connections: d8
Possessions: d12
Money: d4
Standing: d4
Inventory:
$197
Notebook
Pen
Flashlight
"Necromancer" Book
Everyone sleeps in the abandoned building again, curling up in proximity to where the orb is precariously balanced. Sleep comes quickly as though you are each particularly exhausted. The dream that comes to you is far more lucid and robust than the dreams you're used to having, but still dreamlike in its composition. You walk down a long hall, stutter step, 'fast forwarding' at irregular intervals, towards the door at the end. Alexis recognizes the door by memory, the rest recognize it only vaguely: The door to the lab rooms under the university. Everyone pushes through that door, each is alone in their dream but they take the same journey. You pass through the door and find not a small laboratory room but some sort of huge surgical theater. Not a modern one either, but a huge wooden room with dozens of rows of amphitheater seats around a deep pit in the center. It all seems exaggerated; the rising rows of seats rise too high, are too tightly packed, and almost seem to loom forward curl in towards the operating table. The men and women who sit in those impossible seats look to come from dozens of eras. You see men and women in what appears to be the attire of Greek aristocrats, egyptian embalmers, arabic doctors, early surgeons, civil war sawbones, even a few modern doctors.
You look towards the operating table. A man stands there. He is tall but not inhumanly so, broad shouldered and strong but not like a professional fighter or weight lifter, and moves with a sense of purposeful grace. His clothing is red, that bright but not too bright red of fresh uncoagulated blood. Red leather long boots, red pants, red long sleeved shirt, red gloves that reach his elbows, red smock the covers the entire front of his body, red surgeon cap, red face mask. No flesh is visible anywhere on his body except in the space between the cap and the mask. And there you see not a human head but the red orb, its engraved eye peering out over the mask. Assistants, all in darker shades of red, bustle about the table. Upon closer inspection, they each appear to be you, though the masks and caps cover much of their appearance. They are of different ages, different states of being. A few are injured. One is quite old, moving with great difficulty. You look past them at the body on the table. It is unmistakably you. You as you are now. Alive and nude, laying unrestrained and obviously awake. The you on the table turns its eyes to the you watching and smiles.
"Knowledge is its own reward, wouldn't you say?" the you on the table says, eyes sparkling, as the man in red makes the first incisions, cutting a deep "Y" into your chest. And it is your chest. You aren't looking over the scene anymore. You are laying on the table, looking up at all the yous bustling about in surgical garb. And all the people staring down from the amphitheater seats are you now too, though their clothing is unchanged. The only one who hasn't changed is the man in red. He reaches into your chest and pulls your heart free, the great veins and arteries still attached to the throbbing mass of muscle. There's no pain to it and you suddenly realize he is showing it to you for you to see. In silence his gloved hands carefully trace the path of the coronary arteries, showing you their beginning and ends, their branches, which muscles they feed. You understand him, you understand exactly what he says and does, understand the anatomy even if you don't know the words and names that connect to each part. You realize that names and words are simple artifice; the flesh IS. When he is done, your heart shredded into pieces to expose its deepest anatomy, he moves on to your lungs.
This continues for what seems like days or months, but you will awake the following morning just as always, though your head will sing with new information, new knowledge. And a sense of purpose.
Eat dinner, cutting the bird up in the presence of the orb, and then set out rat traps baited with peanut butter. Describe to the orb how we discovered that the church location was actually a cult of the World Eater, and ask it for a description of the relationship between the two deities. Should we be hostile to the other cultists?
With that, Sleep. Tomorrow I think we'll set up the orb in the area at the University.
Name: Sean O'Malley, Phd.
Appearance: A trim, short man in his mid-40s, with a jovial expression and short reddish-brown hair.
Backstory: After completing his doctorate in Philosophy, he found his life unexpectedly limited after promoting some rather nonstandard views, after discovering and investigating some minor secrets. His position was since removed, and he no longer commands the respect he once had among his peers.
Physical stats: (list in order)
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d8
Endurance: d8
Awareness: d10
Guile: d6
Knowledge: d12
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d6
Possessions: d8
Money: d8
Standing: d6
Inventory:
$40
Dinner
Baited Rat Traps, armed.
Bicycle
Drafting Board
Datsun Maxima
Canon T-50
You set traps.
When you cut the bird up you get the barest hint of feeling. This is something like what the Scholar wants but...its a pale imitation.
You describe the church and the information that (Apparently) you got from Alexis about the secret room below it. You ask for descriptions and it tells you nothing but when you wonder about hostilities between cultists, particularly focusing on those that serve the World Eater, you get a distinct feeling of unease. Not fear, not rage, just discomfort.
You sleep and dream as the rest do.
Help Dev make dinner
Name:Robert O’Conner
Appearance: a skinny, tall, 40 year old irishman with a scary expression.
Backstory: You see, I once was a promising historian, and I was also a pretty good pianist, if I say so myself. But then, I say a summoning. It changed my life! I realized, with that kind of power, nobody could stop you. nobody. NOBODY! A HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! erm. Yeah.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d8
Endurance: d10
Awareness: d6
Guile: d6
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d12
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 0
World Stats:
possessions: 5
Money: 3
Connections:1
Standing: 1
Inventory:
12:
Car
all of the keys to loads of places
Chef knife
Pitcher
Phone(do these exist yet?)
Sleeping bag
A huge bag of chips
Pins/ small pointy objects
Empty journal
Pens and other writing utensils
Painting tools
A silver coin( that’s probably worth something)
Money: 700
You help cut up the bird and gather a few choice bits for yourself. A single chicken isn't much but you make due.
Name: Duncan
Appearance: A man in stylish but somewhat dusty suit
Backstory: works as archeologist and egyptologist, salary is not greatest, but, well, it exists.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d8
Knowledge: d12
Willpower: d10
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 0
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d10
Money: d4
Standing: d4
Inventory:
$200
Pen
Notebook
Latin dictionary
Try to get to my office
(remember to bold actions so I can tell them from RP stuff)
You get to your office just fine, taking the bus down to the campus [-$3] and then walking into the little cluster of offices off the liberal arts building. Your office is just a single room, maybe a 6x8 with a corner desk, a book shelf, and a chair against one wall for any student that might want to come in and talk. None had.
Helen gives those in the room the sternest, most intimidating look she can. She raises her camera and points at it. She then uses her breath to fog the window and then uses her finger to write "I KNOW" in the moisture, writing right to left and flipping the letters so that they appear the right way to those inside the room.
Try to bullshit my way into the room. If successful, try to become friends with the people in the room and/or try to determine what they're doing.
After I get in the room I don't care if they realize I lied to get in.
If questioned about why I'm bothering them when I get in, say I was looking for someone interesting and they looked interesting.
If asked who I am when I get in, tell them I'll be renting one of the labs for a business I represent and wanted to see who my most fun neighbors were.
Name: Helen Hywater, though she insists on calling herself "The Recorder" during cult related activities
Appearance: A young girl with short dark hair and green eyes. Tends to wear a dark brown trenchcoat and fedora during cult related activities to avoid suspicion.
Backstory: Has a fascination with recording stuff for posterity and specifically cameras. Makes her way through life doing odd jobs and videotaping things, sometimes things she probably shouldn't record. She's even managed to make some short films. She's a bit weird and she knows it but she doesn't care. As for why she's with the cult, she mostly just wants to record stuff and then sell them for fame and loads of momey. Maybe she can make the world's first real found footage film.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d10
Endurance: d8
Awareness: d12
Guile: d8
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: d4 (The Scholar in Red)
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d4
Money: d4
Standing: d10
Inventory:
Clothes
A high-end handheld camcorder with flashlight.
193$
[8]
You give those in the room an extremely stern look. A look that might easily be called murderous or psychotic to those without knowledge of your particular brand of emotional intensity. You hold up your enormous Panasonic OmniMovie VHS camcorder and then use your breath to write "I KNOW" on the window.
The effect this has on the people inside is for them to back the hell away from the door and slowly move out of your line of sight. You hear someone talking inside the room a minute or so later and the way they talk- short phrases followed by silence -makes you think they're talking on the phone. Probably to campus security or the cops.
Woops.
"Make sure to check the cabinet, lads. Might be some interesting stuff in there."
Looks like we're not going anywhere yet. Use the flashlight (that I forgot I had) to start reading the journal while the lads investigate the cellar.
Name: Walton J. Murphy
Appearance: A man of 64 years old. Walton sports a bald head and a grey beard. Not as fit as he used to be. His body is marked with a variety of scars.
Backstory: Walton joined the military when he was 18 years old in 1939, just in time for WWII to ramp up. He has since served in the pacific theater in WWII, the Korean war, and the Vietnam war. It was in 'Nam where he was gravely wounded for the last time, effectively ending his military career. He currently works a desk job for the local government, a fact that does not particularely please him.
He's been in a world war, a cold war, a drug war and a gang war. Now, seeing the appalling amount of respect veterans get from younger generations, he's decided that he wants to add a holy war onto his résumé.
Physical stats: (list in order)
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d10
Knowledge: d8
Willpower: d12
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d8
Possessions: d8
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
299$
Leatherman multitool
Notebook&Pen
Bicycle
Duct Tape
Flashlight
A bible
unlabeled black leather bound book, some kind of diary
a pencil
a crucifix
about a dozen Morgan Dollar coins
Again, its gonna take a long while of reading to get far into this. So basically you only read the first couple pages, which talk mostly about the man being assigned to this church and his first few days here. They're banal, except for one possible reference to an odd number of dogs hanging around the property. The priest says that someone must be feeding them for them to hang around in these numbers and says he'll look into it.
"I'm with Guile I'm afraid; might as well investigate this now. Feel free to sleep in the back of the jeep, though; there's probably a tarp or blanket in there to curl up under."
Join Guile in the investigating the room, though refrain from destroying anything. And yeah, don't step in the circle.
"Whoa there, we probably shouldn't go around desecrating the place just yet. I don't really fancy drawing the anger of another god, especially since we don't even know what relation this World Eater has with the Scholar."
Name: Alexander Sill
Appearance: A well-built man in his late thirties, who walks with a slight limp.
Backstory: A career soldier, though that career was brought to an abrupt end after the invasion of Grenada left him discharged with a shiny medal and a leg wound which will probably never fully heal. Since then he has struggled along, through a series of short-lived, dead-end jobs, searching for a new purpose in life. He now seems to have found one.
Physical stats:
Strength: d10
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d6
Endurance: d12
Awareness: d8
Guile: d6
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favour: 0
World Stats:
Connections: d8
Possessions: d6
Money: d6
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Murphy's Shotgun (Remington 870, shortened barrel, pistol grip; loaded), pocketfull of shells.
Toolbox (wrench, pliers, jeweler's saw, tire iron)
Kaiser Jeep M715 (dark blue)
$497 cash
"Alexis, I think this calls for a bit of overtime. You don't see the World Eater's sigil every day, or 'least I hope you don't. WALTON! We found a shrine to the World Eater! I'm gonna dismantle it, can't know if it has any power remaining."
Make sure NEVER to step inside that circle. Then, first thing, ransack the cabinet, being very careful while opening it; once it's empty, pull it over and check behind it. Then take down the tapestry, tear it in quarters. Throw the altar to the ground, too. Finally, poke the ring with a stick, throw some junk into it, and if nothing at all happens, try and break the ring, or at least push it around until it's deformed into an 8 shape or something. If Alex comes down, ask him to shoot the edge, that way nobody has to touch it with their fingers.
Name: Guile
Appearance: Guile Backstory: A former United States Air Force major who was forced to retire after uncovering deep corruption within the organization. He's since dedicated himself to exposing corruption and taking down criminal syndicates--which has left him with a staggering number of both allies and enemies, though even his enemies tend to have a healthy respect for his ruthless dedication and merciful nature. Recently, his family was murdered gruesomely
because syvarris doesn't want to bother with them because he had called police on several high-ranking members of an occult organization (after beating them senseless, as Guile is wont to do). Ever since he has been singlemindedly pursuing any hint of the occult, as a personal vendetta, which has left him homeless, penniless, and inventory-less. Of course, Guile has never needed anything more than his fists to fight the good fight.
Physical stats:Strength: d12 (+)
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d8
Endurance: d8
Awareness: d6
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d4
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 1-1=0
World Stats:Connections: d12
Possessions: 0
Money: 0
Standing: d12Inventory: His sonic fists are all he needs!
Alex joins Guile in the subterranean chamber. Alex intercedes when Guile moves to destroy anything, reasoning with him that they should consider their actions and know what they're doing before potentially pissing off a god or angering an Ally of the Scholar and drawing his ire.
Guile subsides on his destructive rage...for the moment...and instead checks the cabinet, opening its double doors carefully. Inside are several things; The most striking are the corpses of a dozen or more small animals. Rabbits, squirrels, groundhogs, birds, rats and the like, all clearly killed with a small caliber varmint rifle judging from the neat holes in their flanks or chests. The bodies are ancient, completely desiccated and mummified, nothing left of them but dried flesh, fur and bone. The inside of the cabinet doesn't reek with rot, it just smells slightly dusty. Aside from the corpses there are a few other objects: what look like the leg and rib bones of cattle, tins of beans, slabs of salted meat that has also dried out to an almost wooden appearance, a few frayed lengths of rope, and what looks like the skull of a wolf or some sort of very large canine.
Author
Topic: CULT (Read 76703 times)