Coc #31: Masks of Nyarlathotep #11 Obey the Black Pharaoh!

April 4, 1925 Cairo, Egypt

Steven O’Hara - Doctoral Student of Physics
Dr Nathaniel “Doc” Millheim – Parapsychologist

After combing over all the documentation from the Carlysle Expedition, after conversing with Dr. Ali Karfour of the Egyptian Museum about antiquities and the Black Pharaoh, and visiting some of the seediest (and violent) bars in Cairo, the investigators had one priority before venturing any further.  

Getting as much information out of a mentality and physically scarred “Dr Bob” Wintermute from his misfortune venturing out to one of Carlysle’s dig sites.

While stable from the severe sunburn he suffered under the Egyptian sun, he still wasn’t lucid enough to talk. O’Hara and Millheim thought some outside stimulation might cause a breakthrough, but instead of hashish like Walter Besart had wanted, they had the ex-Foreign Legionnaire Francois Guerin go find opium. A little while later and Guerin returned with his Egyptian contact Habib, and enough to sedate a shipful of sailors on leave in China.

Dr. Bob became delirious, hallucinating at the furniture in the room, but he manages to detail the ambush in the desert, his first attempt at casting a spell, and the disastrous consequences.  

Even after hearing this American’s wild ramblings, Habib ran a few errands for cash for the investigators and was ultimately convinced not only to go back to his house and fetch his pistol, but to accompany the trio the following day back out into the desert.

April 5, 1925
There was nothing at the first site they hand visited, but the second site (an unimportant site according to Karfour). Over another dune they notice a major depression. Ringing this near-crater were rows of large stones nearly buried in the sand. At the bottom of the crater was a large rectangular slab. Digging around the slab resulted in a stone foundation that made eerily appear like an altar. It took all four of them, but pushing the slab off revealed a stairwell leading down beneath the desert.

They descended the stairwell to a large, ancient, empty burial chamber, dominated by two alabaster columns. Steven discovered a secret door in the one column that provided an additional stairwell inside leading further down.

Upon Francois hearing some faint gunshots off in the distance, the party decided it might be best to head back up top, get better supplies, and more batteries for the flashlights they carried. A quick hat on a rifle butt trick yielded no shots. 

When they reached their car, two tires had been ruined. They scouted the area again, and could find no tracks, save the ruined car from Dr Bob’s previous foray out and the peculiar combed sand of the area beside it.

Steven managed to repair the one tire and used the spare to replace the other, but it only held up for a few rock-strewn miles down the road. With the sun setting, they abandoned the vehicle and tried their luck with a village down the road. Steven carried the tires along with him to make additional repairs.

Thanks to Habib, they managed to acquire a meal and shelter, even if they were split up among different households in village. The villagers admitted that there was a bandit problem, but they had little there for them to take. Regardless, they had acquired an almost random assortment of firearms to defend themselves, from rusty jezzails to more modern Great War models.

None of the investigators could get a wink of sleep, so it was no surprise that they all jumped into action when they heard gunfire outside.

Habib got to his door first. He and the man of his host family, got into position to see five bandits with modern weapons, terrorizing their neighbors, kicking open doors and shoot indiscriminately inside.

Steven peaked out the door with his family’s patriarch, but decided to hold their shots until the optimal moment.

Francois took it upon himself to shoo the family away, and as the only investigator with a rifle, found a great defensive position to aim. 

Doc Millheim tried to break the only table his host family had to make a club for defense.

Francois took the first shot, completely incapacitating the bandit. 

Habib unloaded as fast as possible with his revolver, sinking shots into three more bandits, killing one and wounding the other two.

The only unwounded bandit charged Habib, but Habib managed to hit him with the door, knocking him out. 

Steven just held his shot.

Although one bandit escaped with his life, the villagers finally got organized, shooting all the bandits, alive and dead, in the head, save Habib's capture. 

In the aftermath, the damage to village was less severe than the bandit's rampage sounded.  A few hand minor wounds and by the grace of Allah, only two had persihed.

Habib took the bandit into his host's home.  His interrogation skill seemed swift and brutal, if ineffective.  The bandit basically admitted he was a cultist in sheer defiance to Habib and their endeavour was doomed to fail.

Then Habib took the man's trigger finger off with the flick of the wrist.

Just laughter from the bandit.

Habib kicked the man's chair over, and proceeded to drag him by his hair out to the center of the village.

Steven's persuasive insults that this man's god was a bootlicker for the Jewish god didn't translate well through an already flustered Habib. 

Habib with fire gently crisping  the open wounds finally brought the man to screams.

After a few moments, a large hand appeared on Habib's shoulder and gentle but slurred voice said, "Stop."

There stood a huge man who had his right side of his face gouged off, a missing right arm, and a prosthetic for a right leg.  His crutch/walking stick was a large spear, which he impaled the cultist with.  He then asked the investigators to follow him.

He led them to a small shanty on the outskirts of the village, where he introduced them to his grandmother, an woman who was completely missing her jaw.  The man explained that he knew the investigators were powerful and driven, "but in the end, it all ends in failure."

The grandmother's eyes lit up when she saw the investigators.  She could only make these foul, gurgling noises and point to communicate, but Doc Millheim could see a basket in the far corner with the Egyptian hieroglyph for protection on it.  Inside the basket was a large piece limestone, multiple inches thick, with a portion of the symbol from the basket carved on it.  The best they could determine was that it had been used for outdoor use.

April 6, 1925
Steven got the car operational again, and they were back in Cairo before lunch.  They tried to talk to Bob, but he was still out of commission, and even the least empathetic member knew not to try the opium trick again.

The returned to the Egyptian Museum and sought out Dr. Karfour.   He identified the piece of limestone as the capstone for the Red Pyramid, which had been discovered vandalized shortly after the principals of the Carlysle Expedition had left for Kenya.   He confirmed that it had been used as some sort of a ward, either trapping something in or keeping something out.

The investigators admitted where they had been and what they had discovered.  Dr Karfour advised that they stock up on supplies and visit him the next morning and he'll try to get additional information on the site.

April 7, 1925
Before leaving for the site, they dropped in on Dr Karfour.  He provided them a stone with a strange symbol that would help them ward evil spirits away.  Upon leaving, Doc Millheim spied the large book on Dr. Karfour's desk, an aged copy of... The Necronomicon.  *cue dramatic music*

Back at the site, everything was back in its original positions, they pushed off the lid, cleared the blocks, and went back down.

The descent in the alabaster staircase was dark and monotonous, only the ragged breathing of a tiring Dr Millheim interrupting the footsteps.  The repetitive steps up caught the group in a small panic, but they finally reached a level floor. 

The floor opened up into a ancient throne room, a giant obsidian throne dominating the back wall.  A mixture of Egyptian and Mythos dominated the back wall.  Six five- foot tall pillars stood beside the throne, each with an alien, flame-shaped gem set atop the stone.

The right wall had a barely recognizable map of the world on it, with a huge red triangle filling up the Indian Ocean, it's corners meeting in Africa, Australia, and somewhere in the water.  An odd ebony strip ran across the ocean like a line of latitude, with a inscription about the Old Gods making their appearance. 

The left wall had a huge star chart, each star lit up by unknown means.  It seemed that the star alignments and a planetary alignment showing the solar system with NINE planets (Pluto was discovered in 1930!)  It took a few moments, but they were able to determine an eclipse scheduled for the ebony area of the map... on January 14, 1926, along with the birth of a child, possibly that of the god Nylarathotep.   (The investigators really started making their astronomy rolls in force.)

Then the alien gems lit up.

In a panic, they realized  the passageway leading back to the alabaster columns had been sealed up.

And sitting on the obsidian throne, was the Black Pharaoh himself, two swirling vortexes floating beside him.

The Black Pharaoh only spoke a few words, warning the party of the foolishness of their search, how they should give up their quest, and simply return to their normal lives.

Habib, who had been warned that this search could feel more like war than research, pulled out his .38 and unloaded three rounds into the dark god... to absolutely no effect.

After the first shot, everyone could see these foul, almost dog-like beings emerged from the vortexes. Second shot rang out and the beasts moved forward. The third shot missed and the beasts stood at the feet of their apparent master.

The Black Pharaoh simply raised a single finger, and Habib vanished from existence.

O'Hara immediately agreed to the being's demands, "No, we will never bother you or your friends ever again!"  At the moment, Nylarathotep seemed pleased. 

For Francois, this was entirely too much, as he crawled into the far corner in a sobbing mess. Doc Millheim's fragile psyche managed to hold on through such a mind-blowing encounter but his sense of right and wrong went right out the window. 

"We humbly apologize for irritating you like a fly on an elephant, but I myself have questions that I know only you can answer!"

"Answers?  You want answers?  Here, little one, go find the knowledge you seek." 

And with a move of the the Black Pharoah's hand, the star chart was replaced by a scene of an Egyptian marketplace.  Doc Millheim simply walked through the portal without any hesitation or concern for his friends and the scene from ancient Egypt faded from view, back into the stars and planets.

With that, the passageway materialized, Steven grabbed the maddened Francois, and the ran out of the alabaster columns without turning back.

Perhaps it was time to leave Egypt. 

For Hoyce's character Habib, he knew coming in he was to be hired muscle.  Trying to shoot a god in the face was what he was paid to do, although if he had succeeded he would have asked for more money.



Habib's Character Card for the table, edited in hindsight.

For Doc Millheim, it was a sad but fitting way for the parapsychologist/pulp writer to leave the game. He was the last original character still operating from session #1, and he knew his 30% in Cthulhu Mythos and 25% Sanity meant he was already on borrowed time.
But the commiserating of the good Doc didn't go on as planned.    Nate (the player) said that Doc Millheim would survive as long as he could, scratching anachronistic symbols and writing on any stone surface he could find.   He wasn't going down without a fight.

Then there was Steve (the player).   Although he had avoided learning anything from the Mythos, Steven the character had obtained tremendous amounts of knowledge regarding teleportation in an encounter in New York years ago.  He had been talented enough back then to improve upon the mad calculations of a raving madman.    Two years later, his knowledge in physics and mechanical engineering were far superior and, if he could get the materials, he would build a gate to travel back in time and rescue Doc Millheim.

We might be onto Kenya next, but I have a justified fear that I may need to prep a Stargate game... just in case.

Next: The Mountain of the Black Wind

Coc #28: Masks of Nyarlathotep #8 Beware the Zionist Conspiracy

March 22, 1925
Given word by the Crown that they are no longer welcome in the United Kingdom, our intrepid group of investigators packed up whatever they could and headed to Southampton to depart for Cairo.

Doctor Bob Wintermute   - Professor of History, Miskatonic University
Anthony Parks -  Graduate Assistant, Miskatonic University
Yaleshia   -  Former Belly Dancer at the Blue Pyramid, helped investigators, got deported back to Egypt
Doc Nathaniel Millheim (Run as NPC Investigator)  - Parapsychologist and Author
Professor Steven O'Hara (Run as NPC Investigator) - Physics Professor and Daredevil
Joshua Wanisko (Run as NPC Investigator)   - Chemical Engineer/Stranger in a Strange Land

March 25, 1925
Arrived in Port Said.  Bob immediately dove into the crowds to buy pistols via the black market!

March 26, 1925
Arrived at the Cairo Ritz, thanks to Joshua's benefactor/employer, Richard Carrington.

March 27, 1925
Bob sent Parks to research expedition documentation. Despite a background in Archeology, Parks couldn't even find a good place to start researching.  A well-dressed eldery Egyptian man offered to assist, but Parks spouted off a series of racial epithats at the gentleman.  The gentleman suggests that Parks have his Professor come the next day and he would arrange a qualified museum staff member to help. 

March 28, 1925
Egyptian Museum - Day Two  - Wintermute came back with Parks and met with/apologized to the curator, Dr Ali Kafour, the same older man that Parks belittled the day before.  In private, Parks admitted that he is wildy racist!!!   He blamed the ineptness of the peoples of the Ottoman Empire on the Zionist Conspiracy.

Some progress was made in assembling the pieces of the Carlysle Expedition.   Wintermute talked to contacts for hiring bodyguards.  Some of the paperwork doesn't match up to what actually occured, but they realized that they also needed to look for the expedition's main contact in Egypt, a French national by the name of Warren Besart.  After the expedition, he appeared to have dropped off the face of the Earth, but the French Embassy should have some sort of tabs on him.  

Bob, not learning his lesson at the museum, sent Parks, who apparently did not hate just the lesser races, but the French as well, and was roughly tossed out of the Embassy.

March 29, 1925
Egyptian Museum - Day Three - More remnants of the expedition unearthed.  With barely a trace of artifiacts coming from the dig sites, it was certain that Carlysle and Company were not serious... about artifacts.

The belly dancer went to the French embassy and was horribly stymied by a female or possibly gay staff member and was turned away from research.

March 30, 1925
Bob met the three mercenaries,  A German named Wilhelm, a Frenchman named Francois, and an American named Claude,  Wintermute took first trip to three dig sites only to be turned away by heavily armed men.  Some very official paperwork was required to enter the sites.

March 31, 1925
Bob undertook an expedition to one of the Carlysle dig site with Parks, Yaleshia, Wilhelm and Claude.  Apparently Francois bailed on them!   After driving out in a car an a truck to the site, they set up camp, and spent the night drinking and bullshitting.  They were smart enough to set up a watch to let the others work off their booze.

That night, Parks fell asleep during the watch, only to be awoken by the sight of his own blood and a man fumbly around with his body.   A bloody Parks began kicking a cultist, or at least an angry Egyptian, alerting Bob and the bodyguards, who took out the pair of natives near the tent, only to discover three more with rifles atop a sand dune.  Weapons fire was meagerly exchanged.

Yaleshia, armed only with a pistol, thought it smart to slide under the tent on the far side from the commotion and head for the trucks.   An expert shot from the barrel of a waiting cultist pierced her heart and her body cascaded into a heap on the sand.

A battered and bleeding Parks took a glancing shot which dropped him face-first of the sand.

Doctor Bob decided that this was the best time to cast his new spell "Contact Winged Terror from Beyond."  Crawling out just enough from underneath the tent to see the dune, he began casting, and for a split second he could see a large conical mass of flesh with multiple arms flailing about... before he blacked out.

April 1, 1925
Wintermute awoke in a barren expanse of sand.  After getting his bearings, he realized that he was still at the campsite, but nothing else remained, save the one car, turned on its side.  A large swirling trail leaded down the dune, through the camp,and ultimarely disappearing 200 yds past the vehicle. He was badly sunburned on his exposed flesh from his time passed Bob drained the radiator for some water and built a make-shift shelter to wait out the day to flip the car upright in the evening, start it and return to Cairo.  He returns late that night to the Ritz with Joshaua, Nathaniel, Steven... and Francois at the bar.  Francois immediately tries to excuse himself "You did not give me enough time to finish...

"You're fired"  and then Bob slugged Francois, dropping him to one knee.

With half the group no-shows, we decided to keep them in the safety of the Ritz, and only use them as needed.

One snafu to the plan was, with Nate not available, no one else could get through his copious amounts of notes regarding Egyptian leads and they prodded in their own direction.   

The cultist critically failed his knife roll to kill Parks, and only made a bloody mess out of him. Another cultist impaled their Rifle shot and Yaleshia had no chance.

Next:  Episode #9 - "Why Bob Should Not Have Punched Francois"

NYC CoC #19: The Half Moon

June 2, 1924

Back in NYC, things had happily turned a bit mundane.   So much so, that the investigators had not met over the past 2 1/2 months, except for a few natural one-on-one meetings.

Jessica Carson, widowed female private eye, was still trying to deal with the influx of business.   A female detective who keeps secrets close to the vest was a popular commodity.  If only there was some way for her to get all those calls when she was on the street working a case.  A call from the editor's office of the New York Weekly Messenger to discretely search for a missing reporter was right up her alley.  Time to contact...

Det Frank Dresden.  He was curtailing his friendly duties with Jessica to focus on his professional ones, but missing persons cases always benefited with a little access from the NYPD.

They arrived at the Messenger's office and met with editor Erasmus Driggs.  Driggs was very worried that his star reporter, Sydney Silver, had not reported in for days and was feared missing.  He seemed worried not only for his employee, but the financial sake of the company.  "Almost" no price was too high to find him.  He provided the duo with a list of clippings based on his current assignments, including articles from other papers about "monsters" lurking around the sewers and business cards for Harlem establishments of ill repute.

Dr. Bob Wintermute, Professor of History at Miskatonic University was perturbed.  In the two short weeks since his assignment at Columbia ended, he had experienced not one, not two, but three incompetent sets of movers try to transport his things from his Manhattan apartment back to Arkham.  The last time the savages moved everything from his partially furnished apartment that WASN'T his. What he expected to occur, did.  This time the right items got onto the truck.  What he didn't expect was the phone in the apartment to ring, and his mentor at Brown, Dr. Alexander Powell, on the other line.

It seemed the years had flown by, and Alexander young son, William, who Bob remembered from numerous weekend dinners at the Powell home, had grown up, graduated Yale, and turned into some reporter under an assumed name for some New York tabloid rag.  He hadn't written in weeks, and wasn't answering his phone.  It was bad enough that William's uncle Leland, a member of the New York elite, had just perished in a boating accident off Long Island Sound, Williams disappearance would  be an tremendous stress to an already grieving family.   On top of that, he was supposed to be married this year, and he didn't want to break the news to his fiancee. If Bob wasn't already on the train going back to Arkham, could he possibly have one of his local contacts to try to ensure that William was safe.

Dr Wintermute decided to call Carson, and arrange a rendezvous at the Belvidere Club.  Of course Brian Nichols was the traditional way into the club when Nathaniel Millheim wasn't available and he'd normally scoot right over to reserve table, only today, he had an unexpected guest.  Mike Dalcin had returned from South Dakota and took Doc Millheim up on his offer of hospitality that he never thought would make due. Nichols assumed by hospitality that meant a blanket near the stove of the apartment, but first a trip to the Belvidere Club.


The Gentle Reader might now see the heavy handed approach I used to keep the group together "one more time."   William Syndey Powell, one of the heirs to the Powell fortune, decided to forgo his name to become an investigative journalists.  A few rounds of Manhattan Juleps were required to connect the dots.

The group went back into library mode, researching the man and making far more assumptions than discoveries.  Silver's writings were expanded versions of stories published in other papers, and written on such a level that few could believe that the writer had a degree from Yale.
Others researched psychological texts, trying to determine if Silver just snapped.  A credible mind in psychology like Doc Millheim was not available to dispute such assumptions without credible proof.  Then again, Doc Millheim was still hiding at a "spa" to exorcise his own demons.
With the help of  Dresden, they got into Silver's Brooklyn apartment, only to find it ransacked.  They did find an odd cypher on a newspaper article about a charity picnic and the passbook for Silver's savings account, with over a thousand dollars in it.
Part of the group continued their research into Silver's descent into madness they had concocted, another group travelled to the Peacock Club in Harlem to see what a few business cards in Silver's file meant.  Their lack of rhythm and dark pigmentation failed in their endeavour, although their money was certainly good, and the drinks in return not watered down.

While the rest are out researching/partying off appendages,  Jessica Carson figured out how to find Silver, and after a few calls first thing the next morning to the Messenger  and Silver's bank, she found him in a resort in the Rockaways.  He was a shell of his former self, so Jessica took the huddling wretch back to the office.  It was hours before the group recovered from their hangovers to meet up their.  Wintermute contacted Alexander Powell and Dalcin was used to guard Silver until family contacts could arrive and take him back to a safe place to recover.  Oddly enough, Alexander's brother Leland, a powerful man in New York business and politics, had been killed in a yachting accident only a few days prior, and the immediate family in the city had their hands full with that tragedy.

Nichols and Wintermute went back up to Harlem, under the assumption of doing more research, but Nichols had found an address to a certain JuJu House were he could obtain an "authentic" African dagger to use for the spell he had learned from Doc Millheim.  The encounter with the shopkeeper and the subsequent transaction went down smoothly, but as he exited the shop, he was accosted by a few bums in the alley.  Pulling out his resolver, the gun misfired, shooting off two of his fingers and leaving him barely conscious.  If not for the help of another vagrant, who pulled him from the scrum and ran out to the main street, Nichols would have surely been a dead man.  This guardian angel of hobo-dom turned out to be Japanese!  Maguro No Sarada did his best to staunch the bleeding and keep Nichols conscious.  For his help the Investigators kept him around.

Researching Silver's odder notes turned out to be much easier.  Frances Tavern had a few documents from the 17th Century detailing Henry Hudson's first encounter with Manhattan, a few members of the crew, reputed murders and ne'er do well hooligans, had jumped off the side of the Half-Moon and disappeared into the wilderness.  Another later text mentioned a strange Cult of the Half-Moon, but details as to its machinations were sketchy. 

One name came up that concerned the group:  Ambrose Mogens.  Mogens was a wealthy philanthropist and head of the Mogens Institute for Advanced Studies, and think tank trying to improve the human condition.  Many of the members of the group had actually met Mogens (and each other for the first time) at his own Christmas party!  Searches at the New York Public Library and the Hall of Records made things turn a bit darker.  The name of one of the persons who jumped the Half-Moon over three hundred years before?  Ambrose Mogens.  The name of one of the others?  A Vanderklei, who just happened to share the same last name as the current Mogen's Director of Science at the Institute.  Something was awry, but our intrepid group of investigators weren't quite sure what they were looking for.

Two uncoordinated trips to the Mogens Institute may have set off some concern.  At two times in the same day, two different gentlemen (one Dalcin, the other Sarada) posed as Doctor Nathaniel Millheim looking for either Mogens or Vanderklei.  Both times they were refused admittance.  Dalcin even went so far as trying to get it through a rear entrance, only to be met by security with shotguns!

The group decided the Mogens definitely had nefarious ideas, so it might be proper to investigate the Mogens Estate in Queens.  A late night drive and a long walk later, they arrived at the thick brick walls surrounding the spacious estate.

The Japanese hobo agreed to scale the wall and do some investigating.  Hiding in the bushes on the other side, he relayed to the group the scope of the grounds, as well as the the three security guards with dogs patrolling the estate at regular intervals.  Without any encouragement, he dashed across the open expanse unnoticed and reached the main building, only to get cold feet and run back to the wall without drawing attention.  Luck ran out for him when he could not climb the wall to get back with the rest of the group.  Falling back into the bushes caught the attention of the guard dog, and soon the hobo was detained.  The rest of the group fled in a panic. 

None of the investigators slept that night.  If Mogens had dealings with the unsavory, an untested ally in their hands who at least knew their names might doom them all.  If no Orientals were turned over to the police last night, the fate of their new friend was far more uncertain. 

Soon members of the group wanted to flee.  Others, such as Dalcin, wanted to recruit more hobos, arm them with baseball bats and sledgehammers, fill their gullets with cheap hooch, load them up onto a bus, drive said bus through the front gates of the Mogens Estate, and sneak in under cover of the ensuing chaos. 
I don't know what it says about the group that Operation: Hobo Justice stayed on the table for discussion far longer than it deserved. 

Cooler heads prevailed and a more "practical" plan was adopted.    The group would be dropped off near the rear of the estate.  Dresden would drive back to the gate with a large number of live rabbits they would procure and dump the rabbits on the other side of the gate.  Hopefully, this would distract all three dogs, with two dozen rabbits scurrying across the estate, allowing them to access the servant's entrance in the back.

By some miracle of fate, everything succeeded flawlessly.

They broke in through the back door, narrowly avoided an encounter with some inquisitive servants, and explored the first floor of the estate.  Most of the rooms fit with a New York philanthropist with a long family.  The library finally uncovered a few clues that somethings were just not right.  On Mogens desk were memos from the Institute documenting some terrifying experiements that may or may not be using human test subjects.
Two of Mogens' journals lay on the desk as well, although it seemed peculiar that his ancestor's journal from 1842 had identical writing to his most recent journal entry.  In the '24 journal, he claims that Leland Powell had been delivered to him and that, "his agony has become all the sweeter."

Finally, they uncovered a trap door hiding under the Oriental rug in the room.  After descending a dark stairwell, they came upon a locked steel door, with a smaller sliding door at its base.   Dr Wintermute slid the small door open, but beyond a blast of cold air and a rank smell, nothing could be observed.  He advised the group leave this area, ransack the library, and get whatever evidence they could before escaping, but when he stood up and turned around, a grotesque muscular arms shot out of the small door, grabbed his ankle, and tried to drag him in!   It took half the group to pull him away from whatever creature was on the other side, and Wintermute had already been pulled halfway through the door, rather painfully so. 

"I believe we found Leland," Wintermute said, "Let's not try to confirm it any further."

The investigators went back upstairs into the library, ransacked what they could of the library, but Dalcin wanted to leave a parting gift for Mogens.  He lit a Molotov cocktail, intent on incinerating whatever dark books they couldn't take themselves, but his career as an anarchist was short.  (He rolled a 100).  The Molotov slipped out of his hand and exploded around him, instantly engulfing him in flames.  The library quickly filled with flame and the other investigators were forced to flee for their lives. 

Dalcin was not a cross-dresser, but you get the point.

For the next two weeks, the papers were all abuzz with the torching of Ambrose Mogens' mansion, but no suspects were ever found.  Even more peculiar, no strange happenings had befallen a very paranoid group of investigators who were certain the "Warlock of New York" would be coming for them.

Apparently dead vagabond cooks and tortured Asian hobos tell no tales... for now.

This took awhile to compose, but I believe it was the first encounter they had with a powerful evil beyond the "monster of the month" variety for over two years.  Unlike the encounter with the Wideawakes and the Klan, Mogens was very much alive and very, very angry. 

The Japanese hobo's player, Aaron, also ran the ill-fated Turkish Librarian.  We'll see how his next character fares. *snicker*

Besides their compensations for their services, the investigators also got wedding invitations for the Powell wedding.

... on the Isle of Crete

Next Campaign Entry:  Some of the Investigators take a Mediterranean vacation while they attend a wedding and try to burn the roof off this mother in episode #20 - The Secret of Knossos.