Episode 2
16th Jan 1925
Harlem, New York
Despite Silas N’Kanwe seeming to be genuine, something was
nagging at the investigators from the League of Extra-Ordinary Gentlemen,
there’s just something not right at the Ju-Ju House. The party decide that a
good old fashioned stake out is what they need, so parking a little way down
the street, they settle in for the evening.
A few dodgy looks from the locals notwithstanding, the next
few hours pass fairly uneventfully, until the investigators notice 2 men walk
into the courtyard, then another one, a couple more, a total of 8 men of
varying races and social standing have gone into the courtyard and not come
out, so shortly after midnight, they decide to have a look.
The curtains covering the window and door hide any chance of
being able to see in, but all seems quiet, so far…
Dick pulls out his lock picks (ever the sneaky git), and
easily unlocks the door. They enter the shop but there’s no sign of the men or
Silas. Searching around, they found a ledger, but it was all initials and
codes, nothing that they could decipher; Jim was disappointed to discover that
the till was empty.
They knew that the guests had to have gone somewhere, so
they start searching the floor and find a trap door. It lead down to a concrete
tunnel, lit by a few bare bulbs, a faint noise could be heard from further
down, possibly drumming? Harry and Dick take the lead, with Bennett not far
behind and Jerry and Jim keeping watch in the shop.
As Harry, Dick and Bennett work their way down the corridor,
the drumming gets louder, a distinct tribal beat that as they got closer was
accompanied by mens voices whooping and shouting with the music. In an unusual
show of common sense, Dick tries to look through the keyhole before opening the
door, but couldn’t make out much more than movement on the other side.
Eight people, they decide, is a bit too many to try and take
on, especially not knowing what was on the other side, so the investigators
return to the car to continue the stake out.
A couple of hours pass when they notice people leaving the
courtyard, but they couldn’t make out how many had left. Determined to get
answers they return to the Ju-Ju House, Jim staying behind to look after the
car (because Ryan wasn’t available to play). Dick having once beaten the lock
to the shop, unlocks the door with ease. They open the trap door and hear….
Nothing, just silence coming from the dark tunnel, not that that made the
decision to go down any better! They reach the door at the end and could see
light coming from the room, but no sound, no sense of movement, so quietly and
carefully they enter.
The room itself was no more than 30ft across, bare stone
with niches for torches, drums lined up against the left hand wall. In front of
them, a heavy dark curtain hangs against the far wall, but the two streaks of
blood that lead from the wall on either side of the curtain, across the floor,
and over to a covered well, catch their attention. Harry and Jerry head to the
well to see what has gone on there, in the meantime, Dick is checking around
the drums for clues, and Bennett opens the curtain to see what he can see.
What Bennett saw will stick with him for time to come, the
man dressed in some sort of tribal, ceremonial garb was a surprise, but the
four zombies was a damn shock! The priest smiles and gestures towards the
investigators, the zombies shamble forward, arms raised and moaning... Not the
first time that the League have dealt with the alternatively alive, their
sanity wasn’t heavily affected, and defensive positions were taken up with Dick
to the left, Jerry on the right and Harry and Bennett in the middle towards the
door.
The party manage to separate the zombies so they have one
each to deal with, the priest having not made a move so far. Though the zombies
were slow, the damage dealt to them didn’t seem to have the desired effect,
blasting out half a ribcage with a shotgun, it keeps on going, most of its face
blown off, it doesn’t stagger, but eventually there’s only so much that even
the undead can take, and two of them lay in a messy heap on the floor. The
tribal priest enters the fray, swiping at Jerrys back with clawed gloves make
from tigers paws, but his attempts to tear open the doctor fail (my rolling was
horrendous!). Dodging past his zombie, Dick runs towards the priest and swings
at him with his cosh, cracking the cultist round the head, but unfortunately
not knocking him out. Furious, the priest turns to look at Dick, and with an
evil scowl he points at him; waves of terror slam through the P.I’s mind as the
evil magic takes hold. Dick runs screaming into the corner of the room, unable
to do anything other than shake and whimper.
With the last zombie dispatched, Bennetts attention is fully
on the tribal priest, his intention was to merely wound the man so they could
question him later, but ended up blowing his chest open (Hard pass to hit vs a
Fail to dodge and max damage rolled).
Hurt, bloodied and frankly confused, the investigators
survey the carnage that lay around them, blood and chunks of flesh coating
almost every surface. Bennett went back to the alcove that the priest and his
zombies had been hiding in and found a copper bowl, a short staff and a wooden
mask, along with the missing book from Harvard University, all of which he
hurriedly shoved into his bag for inspection later, along with the clawed
gloves.
Jerry and Harry go back to the covered well, and after a
couple of attempts, manage to lift the stone slab that covered it. The wailing
started immediately, multiple voices, all crying out at the same time, but the
voices weren’t attached to people, but a roiling, misshapen being at the bottom
of the well. As face after face rose to
the surface of the oily black blob, the stone slab slammed down with a thud and
a shout from both Harry and Jerry of “Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!” as they dived
back.
Dick was now coming to his senses and the four investigators
left, not before throwing a couple of Molotov cocktails through the door, and
ran up the stairs and out of the shop. The sight of two men covered in blood
and gore sprinting down the road, followed by another man, equally messy,
nonchalantly strolling along, and finally the mustachio’d Harry trying his best
to be sneaky but failing miserably, must have been quite a sight!
Realising that attempting to stroll into a five star hotel
covered in blood and bits of zombie would probably cause a little bit of a
stir, they decide to take a detour past Central Park, utilising one of the
ponds for a quick bath, terrifying a poor homeless man in the process! So
soaking wet, they stride back into their hotel and acting as if nothing was
untoward, stroll past the night porter and retire to the suite.
Bennett passes out the odd items that he picked up from the
alcove, the copper bowl seems to have some sort of mythos attachment, but no
one could identify in what way. The staff however was carved with Egyptian
hieroglyphs, and Bennett was able to discern that it said 'Nyambe, Thy Power Mine'. As he says it out loud, a
warm feeling spreads up his arm and gently fades. The feeling was quite
pleasant, but as to what it meant, he is unaware. Dick has a quick skim through
‘Dark African Sects’, and spots the symbol that was carved on Jacksons head,
The Cult of the Bloody Tongue, a name at last!
Harry turns the mask over in his hands, something isn’t
right with it, it’s lighter than it should be for its size, but as hard as
rock, this is no wood that he’s ever come across, but he’s no botanist. Doing
what anyone in his position would do, he placed the mask on his face, and
screamed… The mask latched onto his face, Harry desperately clawed at it as the
eye holes opened wider, forcing his eyes to stare out. Harry’s pupils expand
wide and his arms drop to his side. As far as the other investigators are
concerned, only a couple of seconds pass before the mask falls away, but for
Harry it was so much more. He saw himself floating up, through the ceiling, up
above the hotel, ever higher, New York stretches out below him as he carries on
up, the Eastern Seaboard, North America, the Western Hemisphere, eventually the
whole planet falls away as Harry speeds out into the deepest of space. Soon the
Solar System is dwindling away, further, deeper into space, out of the Milky
Way and ever onward. Time becomes meaningless as the journey continues, until
after what could have been aeons, there seems to be a surface, smooth and shiny
like the inside of a bubble, and on this surface are images of Harrys life,
every memory he’s ever had, laid out for inspection. As Harry stares, each
memory shatters and fades, and through the now clear surface, he sees more
bubbles, each containing other people, other creatures, other worlds, all of
them connected to something, huge beyond understanding, but somehow connected
to everything, everywhere. Harry floats further away, away from everything that
ever has been or ever will be until he is alone, utterly and unendingly alone.
As the mask falls away from Harrys face, he drops to the
floor, unmoving and silent (his mind having been turned to porridge after
witnessing Yog-Sosoth, losing 100SAN will do that to you!), his friends try to
get him to come to, but with no avail. They keep an eye on him over night, but
by morning there’s no change. Doctor Jerry takes him to the local hospital with
the intention of having him transferred to the asylum in Arkham after he has
been assessed.
With a heavy heart, the rest of the party head back to
Arkham, but first they go to Harvard to return the book and find somewhere
secure to lock away the mask and copper bowl, Bennett is intrigued by the staff
and keeps hold of it.
Back at the headquarters of the League of Extra-Ordinary
Gentlemen, the party discuss their next move, eventually they decide to retrace
Jacksons steps, and as London was the last place he was seen, that’s where they
should go.
