((Uh oh. Mood swings. I hope it's not angry at me.))
'There'?
"W-where?"
Cower in fear. Try to figure out what's going on.
Actually, screw that. Dump all favor into willpower, grab the moth and put it on my head and get the information about what's going on directly from the source.
Name: Helen Hywater, though she insists on calling herself "The Recorder" during cult related activities
Appearance: A young girl (that looks more like she's in her late 20s) 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 money. 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: d6 (The Scholar in Red)
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d4
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Clothes
A high-end handheld camcorder with flashlight and infrared nightvision capability
Rented grey sedan (5 days left)
1 tape copy
3165$
so +2 willpower eh? Ok. d10 then I suppose
[6]
Helen attempts to grab the moth off the man's head but the moment she touches it she gets thrown back away as though she touched a high voltage power line. In that instant of contact though, she sees something. A small dark basement, lit as though by a emerald lantern. In it several bodies lay against the wall, clearly executed. The viewpoint is from oddly low, as though at about waist height.
Wish for the ability to see adequately in any lighting.
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: d4
Favor: d8
World Stats:
Connections: d4
Possessions: d6
Money: d12
Standing: d4
Inventory:
old messenger bag
coffee mug
pair of dice
notebook
pen
key ring
key to a Chevrolet Camaro
surgical tools (v. sharp and professional!)
regrettably fuzzy handcuffs
trash bags
double-edged knife
7 harnesses + carriage + carabiners
$224
The Eye
Wait for the others to solve the light problem.
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: d10
Speed: d8
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d10
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, my visions and the visions from the bookshop lady.
Sedatives
Revolver
Box of Revolver ammunition (50 rounds total)
Claw hammer
$599
[6] - 1 level favor, +1 level corruption
Ailn groans suddenly and grabs her face, the sound of wet snapping and popping coming from within her head. After a moment she straightens and her eyes are different. They are the same size but appear to be made of the same material that the "Eye" orb is made out of, a crimson substance, but totally smooth instead of engraved with an eye symbol. Her vision, though tinted red, is now perfectly bright and clear, as though she were standing outside on a sunny day.
Wait for my eyes to adjust, there should be some light coming down from the stairs. If it doesn't work, see if I can scrounge up torch material, such as a couple roofing shingles, some wire, and a long wooden or metal stick. Nothing hard to find in a bunch of partially destroyed buildings. Do the torch thing.
Name: Sean O'Malley, Phd.
Appearance: A trim, short man in his mid-40s, who looks noticeably reptilian, with long sharp teeth, a forked, snake-like tongue, scale-like flesh, and slitted yellow eyes. He has a hissing voice tone and smoke drifts from his nose and mouth.
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: d8
Knowledge: d12
Willpower: d8
Occult stats:
Corruption: 1d4 (1)
Madness: 0
Favor: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d6
Possessions: d6
Money: d6
Standing: d6
Inventory:
$1390
Bicycle
Drafting Board
Datsun Maxima
Green Moth.
Sean goes up stairs, grabs a piece of wood and carefully lights it on fire before walking back downstairs with it.
The basement is relatively small and unfinished, as it looked before, but now a few more things are visible. There are maybe a half dozen or more corpses down here, all shrunken and desiccated with age. A few years at least. Each has a clear hole in the back of its head and judging by the way they're lined up, hands bound, some still sitting up, others slumped down, it can be nothing else but the scene of a systematic execution. There are what look like ritual instruments in the room as well, smashed and rusted. Sean suddenly yelps as his pocket starts to glow green and spit sparks like a magnesium fire.
"Whew. that was close," Alexis said as she placed a hand on her chest and took several breaths. "Now, what to do next?"
Go hang out with the New Age Bookstore lady. Maybe she heard something about the hospital or maybe she know some rumors about other things that Alexis can look into.
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: d10
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d10
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 3
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d6
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
$326
Purse
The lady (Did we ever get her name?) is quite happy to see you and talks very quickly and energetically about the Scholar and how great it all is and so on and so forth. Eventually you manage to actually cut in and ask about the hospital and rumors, to which she responds with two things. First, the hospital is apparently known in the new age circles. They say that the administration are moon worshipers or witches or druids or something of the kind. Apparently been going on for generations. Though precise info is hard to find. As per rumors, she says that a friend of hers that runs a housewares store just sold a very unusual number of knife sets to a single person. two dozen sets, each with 15 knives in them. Her friend had no idea what the man wanted them for but he was very insistent about buying out her whole stock.
Author
Topic: CULT (Read 71536 times)