The Unseen Servant forums

ken-do-nim wrote: Does anyone else have points in History or Archaeology who wants to look?

Elmer has History at 20%. He probably glanced over at some point, so if he recognizes something he will mention it. If not, it's just a bunch of crazy drawings- nothing really of interest to him.

Hyacinth Ausby Hudspeth, antiquarian

occult check (25%) - [1d100] = 90


history check (60%) -[1d100] = 10

coil23 wrote:Hyacinth Ausby Hudspeth, antiquarian

occult check (25%) - [1d100] = 90


history check (60%) -[1d100] = 10

I'm so used to rolling for people on pbm/pbp games, but with the built in die roller, I think you are right to make your own rolls here. This is an amazing website to run a pbp game!

Hyacinth and Archie both agree that the hieroglyphs on the outside of the small box are Egyptian, of the Middle Kingdom timeframe. The glyphs on the inside are definitely not Egyptian. Does anyone have the Egyptian language skill?

Scott308 wrote:

ken-do-nim wrote: Does anyone else have points in History or Archaeology who wants to look?

Elmer has History at 20%. He probably glanced over at some point, so if he recognizes something he will mention it. If not, it's just a bunch of crazy drawings- nothing really of interest to him.

The others beat you to it ... though they haven't yet translated the glyphs.

ken-do-nim wrote:

Pulpatoon wrote:Dr. Pale sits down and begins to read through the book.

You begin ...

The gist of the initial pages is that a group of friends, playfully calling themselves the Dark Brotherhood, held their first meeting in the early spring of 1881. Rupert Merriweather became the recording secretary. The membership numbered six including Marion Allen, the founder and their nominal leader.

In June of 1881 they purchased an old farmhouse outside Ross' Corners, a place where they could conduct their experiments in privacy. Representing themselves as a student literary fraternity, they cleaned and furnished the place while Marion Allen carved special warding (protective) signs over the wooden doors and windows. At the time, the others were amused at such precautions.

[more later]

A series of experiments, innocent and apparently ineffective attempts to contact the spirit world, are then detailed.

An entry dated February of 1882 notes Marion Allen's acquisition of an artifact, purportedly Egyptian, described as a small sarcophagus of gold with a hinged lid. Inside was a large piece of amber entrapping a specimen of some unknown species of arthropod. Allen is excited. The box corresponds to a description he found in an ordinary reference volume in the Miskatonic University Library.

Allen says that in another book, a thick Latin tome titled De Vermiis Mysteriis, is an explanation of some purported powers of the box. The small animal trapped in the amber is said to contain a friendly spirit and guide to the spirit world.

A date is set to conduct a ceremony intended to summon this spirit creature - a Saturday night in the middle of March.

... and that brings us to the detailed description of the ceremony, which is too long a journal entry to type in. I'll scan it instead and post it tomorrow

Aloysius Taft

Taking a sip, Aloysius says, "Moonshine." He takes a gulp and passes the flask over.

"Care for any Miss?"

Miss Faversham

"Oh no, I much prefer a gin and tonic, looks like that stuff would clean your pistons out. Perhaps Mr Jed will oblige?"Jasmine declines the offer, wary of a man totting a gun in his jacket.

Climbing in the cab and giving a secret whisper to Jed she says," don't worry if he waves that pistol thing I'll whack with my adjustable"slipping a large wench from her bag into her belt.

wench instead of wrench, love it!

Dr. Pale shares what he reads with the remaining members of the party, albeit with occasional skeptical editorializing.

"So the... sarcophagus contained a specimen preserved in amber. And it must be of significant historical value if there are stories about it having, ahem, powers."

Archie mutters, "Egyptian...hm. Well it's not my specialty but it was for my old mentor, Dr. Morgan. We should see if he's in, when we go to visit Dr. Armitage."

ken-do-nim wrote:

ken-do-nim wrote:

Pulpatoon wrote:Dr. Pale sits down and begins to read through the book.

You begin ...

The gist of the initial pages is that a group of friends, playfully calling themselves the Dark Brotherhood, held their first meeting in the early spring of 1881. Rupert Merriweather became the recording secretary. The membership numbered six including Marion Allen, the founder and their nominal leader.

In June of 1881 they purchased an old farmhouse outside Ross' Corners, a place where they could conduct their experiments in privacy. Representing themselves as a student literary fraternity, they cleaned and furnished the place while Marion Allen carved special warding (protective) signs over the wooden doors and windows. At the time, the others were amused at such precautions.

[more later]

A series of experiments, innocent and apparently ineffective attempts to contact the spirit world, are then detailed.

An entry dated February of 1882 notes Marion Allen's acquisition of an artifact, purportedly Egyptian, described as a small sarcophagus of gold with a hinged lid. Inside was a large piece of amber entrapping a specimen of some unknown species of arthropod. Allen is excited. The box corresponds to a description he found in an ordinary reference volume in the Miskatonic University Library.

Allen says that in another book, a thick Latin tome titled De Vermiis Mysteriis, is an explanation of some purported powers of the box. The small animal trapped in the amber is said to contain a friendly spirit and guide to the spirit world.

A date is set to conduct a ceremony intended to summon this spirit creature - a Saturday night in the middle of March.

... and that brings us to the detailed description of the ceremony, which is too long a journal entry to type in. I'll scan it instead and post it tomorrow

gonna try to type it in anyway...

Journal Entry, March 1882

We begin the ceremony as Marion instructed, according to that described in his book, De Vermiis Mysteriis. A fire is set in the fireplace and a pentagram chalked on the floor, marked with appropriate symbols and illuminated by two black tapers placed near the center flanking the piece of amber with its entrapped spirit. The others sit in a circle while I, the designated "watcher" who guards for malevolent spirits, sit in the far corner of the room.

Marion throws a handful of powder in the fireplace, producing an evil-smelling smoke and dampening the flames which now burn a sputtering green and brown. Those seated begin the Latin chant Marion Allen has transcribed from his book.

After nearly two hours I see a trail of smoke curling up from the piece of amber. Its surface seems to be bubbling, melting. Could this be it? Have we finally achieved success? I can see a form --

Next day

We have finished with our plans and have sworn a pact to never speak of what happened last night. We have satisfactorily explained the death of Robert, and in some manner the madness of Harold. The sheriff accepts the explanation of a carriage accident - we planned it well. Robert's neck was broken in the fall, we told him. Harold struck his head on a rock when the horse's leg broke and the carriage rolled. Would it be that it was only that. For the rest of us, we will be forever changed by what we experienced last night.

The thing formed in the center of the pentagram, shapeless, nearly invisible. Its terrible voice should have given us a clue but we were foolish. It spoke, then Marion cast that damned powder on the spirit, the Dust of Ibn-Ghazi he calls it, and that's when we saw it.

Words cannot describe the faceless thing with a thousand maws. It roiled and bubbled, never fully revealing itself. So terrifying was its aspect that I sat as though frozen to the floor, the pen falling from my nerveless fingers. Cecil and Marion seemed as lifeless as I while a short, sharp cry issued from Crawford's mouth. Robert, however, rose to his feet and before anyone could stop him, stepped forward as though to embrace our horrible guest. With its arms, or those appendages that seemed most like arms, it took hold of poor Robert and twisted his head around as though it were a mere doll's. The lifeless corpse was then thrown back in Harold's lap and that's when he began that damnable shrieking - the shrieking that hadn't stopped even after we handed him over to the sheriff's men.

Even then we still had a chance. Marion now believes that if we would have kept our wits we could have reversed the chant and eventually forced the creature back to wherever it came from. But Crawford panicked and, mistakenly believing that it would dispel the creature, reached forward and destroyed part of the pentagram, breaking its effectiveness. Released from the binding symbol the thing - with a screech that could only have been unholy satisfaction - fled the house, disappearing out the window as a roaring, screaming wind of boiling colors.

Marion believes that the thing could still be destroyed, or at least dispelled, but none of us who remain have the stomach for such an undertaking. It is believed that the spell we cast inextricably binds the thing to the house and it is true that when we went back a few days later to retrieve our things, we heard it bumping about in the attic over our heads. The warding signs so cheerfully carved by Marion Allen during better times - times that seem so long ago - apparently are effective and bar the thing entry except into the attic of the house.

The next entry in the journal are the names of those belonging to the Dark Brotherhood, followed by the dates of their deaths, all by the same hand, but in various inks.

Robert Menkin, March 1882
Harold Copley, August 1882
Marion Allen, August 1883
Crawford Harris, January 1915
Cecil Jones, March 1920
Rupert Merriweather -

Pasted to the page is a newspaper clipping from August of 1883.

A Murder At The Docks
NEW ORLEANS - The body of Mr. Marion Allen, late of Arkham, Massachusetts, was discovered early this morning in the dock area. A victim of foul play, the man was identified by local witnesses who said that Mr. Allen had been seen in the locale the evening before. Although robbery was the apparent motive, police report that the victim's tongue had been cut out. Marion Allen had reportedly gone to police earlier this week claiming that he was being followed and that he feared for his life. He said his shadowy pursuers were after an Egyptian artifact which he no longer possessed.

The final journal entry is written in a noticeably weaker hand, and the ink is quite fresh.

I gravely fear that which I and my colleagues have loosed upon this countryside. Nothing of consequence has yet taken place but with my death the bonds will be broken and the thing then free to come and go as it pleases. Lives and souls not yet taken already lie heavy on my conscience. The method of delivering the thing out of this world is still in that accursed house, the translation made by Marion Allen from the horrid De Vermiis Mysteriis. I am not strong enough to take on the task, but I know of those who perhaps are. Should they fail me, may God have mercy on my soul.

********************************

It took 4 hours to read all the journal entries, and afterwards you inquire as to Rupert's condition, and find that he has passed away. Grimly, you realize it has begun.

Hearing this tale of horror, and even Dr. Pale realizes that it is true - or at least Rupert thinks it is true - you all lose 1d2 sanity but you gain 1 point of Cthulhu Mythos skill which you can put on your character sheet.

Aloysius Taft: 30 at start, he loses 1 point and drops to 29.
Archie: 39 at start, he loses 2 points and drops to 37.
Jed: 29 at start, he loses 2 points and drops to 27.
Dr. Pale: 65 at start, he loses 1 point and drops to 64.
Elmer: 45 at start, he loses 1 point and drops to 44.
Jasmine: 60 at start, she loses 1 point and drops to 59.
Hyacinth: 60 at start, he loses 2 points and drops to 58.

Dr. Pale has some coffee brought in for everyone who stayed to read through the journal.

Mopping clammy sweat from his brow, he says, "Rotten business, this. Absolutely rotten. Well, if we are to lend even a sliver of credence to Rupert's account, then we should proceed with caution and preparation. Rupert says that there is a method of... returning the... whatever one might call it, to its place of origin. And there is a translation at the house. That's all very well, but we should first try to find a copy of this book... the... ah, De Vermiis Mysteriis. Miskatonic University Library seems the place to start. And the "Dust of Ibn-Ghazi," we'll want to know more about that. Do any of those among us feel especially suited for this task? Perhaps we could send a delegation to research, and another to visit Henry? And those who left, do we know where they went and what they were planning? I hope they did head directly to the house, unprepared for... well, unprepared."

Uncapping a fountain pen, Dr. Pale then opens up the journal and begins a new entry, recording the names of those summoned, the circumstances of Rupert's death, and their intentions.

Archie mutters to himself, "Doc...why didn't you tell me?" He is momentarily lost in a world of horrific contemplation. Dr. Pale's words snap him out of it. "Hm? Well Henry is usually to be found at the Library so I should think we can start there. At least that is where I intend to go."

Jed

"Worth a trip to the library I'd say," Jed agrees. "That journal said something about finding something in a basic reference book there. And I wouldn't go out there without my rifle neither." He spits, having nearly swallowed his chew again listening to this tale.

Elmer "Big City" Ramsey

The young man looks a bit shaken. I really wish Mr. Rupert would have ordered furniture from a different store. I don't like the sounds of this. No sir, not at all. Sighing, he continues, I guess I shouldn't say that about Mr. Rupert. He was a good man and he was my friend, so if his dying wish was for me to help do...whatever...we need to do, by golly, I won't let him down. I won't be much help at the liberry, though, so I'll go with the other group. By the end of his monologue, Elmer is no longer shaken; instead he stands determined. He will do whatever is needed in order to help Mr. Rupert.

"a roaring, screaming wind of boiling colors"...what are we in?
Hyacinth, visibly shaken, stares at the floor for a moment. Looking up she seems to collect herself and nods with determination.

I will go to the library and assist with the research.