[Slake]: "Who the fuck
are you?"
Riker reaches out to grab the man's lousy, ratty-ass robe. Right in
his face, too; Hell's unpleasant. "I'm the fucking Devil, dickhead.
And you woke me up. Gimme that goddamned knife."
[Francis]: What state are we in? Is Francis still 75?
[CM]: You're all in an indeterminate state. Naked, covered in a thin
film of slime and around thirty years old in appearance.
[Francis]: Can Francis see without his glasses?
[CM]: Currently, Francis can see just fine.
[Riker]: Sweet. 30-ish. Maybe a few scars from whatever punishments
they got heaped on 'em in the underworld.
[Francis]: Francis 's innate reaction will be to cover his..er.. nakedness.
Francis blushes and covers himself, chuckling nonetheless at Riker.
[CM]: Riker's hand stops inches from Slake's robe. There's a crackle
of static and something shoves him back.
Slake jumps back, and the coven recoils.
Riker scowls. "Very funny, asshole. Awright, since you rang, what in
Hell d'you want?"
Francis murmurs "The circle, Riker... we're inside, he's outside"
[Riker]: "And lemme out of here. This skin's human enough that it's
cold. I'm usually up to my ass in frozen water, so you might understand
it makes me pissy."
Slake pauses, then gathers his composure. He looks back at the coven.
"It's alright. They can't leave the circle."
[Slake]: "We want to make a deal."
(Francis whispered to CM): Francis knows (in theory) how these things
work... any flaws in the circle that he could exploit?
(CM whispered to Francis): PCN roll.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 2 ]
[Riker]: "You open this and get me an' my retainers some clothes to
cover this ugly ass skin, we'll deal."
(CM whispered to Francis): The circle is perfectly drawn. Whoever did
this was taking no chances. The only way to get out is for Slake to let
you out, or for the circle to be broken from the outside.
(Francis whispered to CM): Studying the coven members... maybe there's
someone I could persuade to help... Francis will hang back and let Riker
do the talking.
Slake grins. "Not for nothing are demons known as liars. If I let you
out, you'll kill us all. Deal first."
Francis murmurs to Riker "Sounds like where we began, my friend..."
Slake turns to the coven members nearest him. "Robes. Now."
[Riker]: "Gimme some goddamned clothes, worm-boy. And keep the
shit-smelling robes to yourselves. I wanna nice sweater, something warm.
One of these days, I'm gonna kill the asshole who said Hell was hot, I
really am."
[Slake]: "Robes are all we have."
[CM]: The coven members strip off their robes. Oddly, they're wearing
jeans and sneakers underneath. Slake sighs. Then he takes the robes and
throws them over the chalk line to Riker.
Slake glares at the dis-robed cultists. "I'll talk to you later..."
he mutters.
[Riker]: "For the Other's sake, you guys're amateurs. I had someone
summon me up with his cellphone last week. That's class." He picks
up the robes, sniffs. "Gah, this smells like an amphibaenad..."
[Francis]: "You just can't get good help these days..."
[Riker]: "Maybe a jaculi..." He tosses them to Frank and Benny.
"Damn! Don't you guys ever shop at Brooks Brothers?"
Slake frowns. "Somehow I thought you'd be more...traditional."
Francis takes the robe with a fastidious grimace and pulls it on.
[Riker]: "Don't tell me you're a bunch of death-metal freaks.
That's old hat. Traditional! Hah! We come in whatever form's best suited
to the task. Sometimes, though, the guys summoning screw up, and we get
these damn lousy skin-suits."
[CM]: The robes are warm and surprisingly comfortable.
Riker looks down. "Well, at least I'm well hung." Back up.
"All right, worm...what d'you want?"
Francis barely managed to stifle a shocked look.
Slake ushers the coven out. Then he turns and walks to the edge of
the circle.
[Riker]: C'mon, c'mon. Time's money.
[Slake]: "Immortality. I want to remain as I am now, forever. No tricks.
No freezing me or turning me to stone. Perfect health and youth, eternally."
[Riker]: "I've got a hot date tonight with a six-tittied succubi, kid.
Is that all you want? You did get three of us."
[Slake]: "I only summoned one...You mean you're not all the same demon?"
[Riker]: "You used last week's ritual kid. Think of it like a blue
light special. I'm in charge of the physical, he's in charge of the mental,
and the drooling guy is spiritual. Now...what else didja want?"
[Francis]: "Be careful what you ask for... you might get it."
[Slake]: "Sorcery. Not ritual magic like I use, but proper sorcery.
you know, the ability to alter reality by thought."
Francis eyes Slake scornfully
[Francis]: "You can't handle it."
[Riker]: "Mmm-hmm. Sure. Francis, take a memo. The kid's been reading
one of those damn roleplaying games again. Damn, I only wish they
sent as many people to us as the damn fundamentalists say they do..."
[Francis]: "We can always hope for the future..."
Slake laughs. "It's what I want."
Francis shrugs
[Francis]: "On your head be it."
[Riker]: "Awright one more, then we're gonna fill you in on the details.
You've got mental and physical..."
[Slake]: "I want a guardian spirit. Completely loyal, who'll protect
me from my enemies."
[Riker]: "Make his head bob, Francis. I think Benny's out to lunch."
Francis puts his arm around Benny and whispers in his ear. Benny
nods slowly...
[Riker]: "You sure about that, kid? I mean, you've got sorcery
on the plate already..."
[CM]: PCN rolls....
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 46 ]
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 13 ]
[CM]: Both of you feel a faint vibration in the ground, as if from
a distant train...
[Slake]: "In return for these things I offer these..."
[Riker]: "Awright, kid. You know the deal. You got three wishes, we've
gotta be outta the circle to collect."
Slake produces a roll of paper, inscribed with 13 odd looking symbols...
Riker snaps his fiungers impatiently. "Your desires are dogfood
to me, worm. Let's finish the deal."
(Francis whispered to CM): Do I have a chance of recognizing the symbols?
(CM whispered to Francis): make a willpower roll.
(To CM) DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 96 ]
[CM]: There's an odd crackle of static in the air, and an increasingly
familiar smell...
(CM whispered to Francis): The symbols are demonic script, but thats
all you can tell.
[Riker]: "C'mon, c'mon. Open it up here. The competition's
arriving. D'you really wanna deal with the angels, kid?"
Francis mutters under his breath... "Oh... hell"
Slake looks confused. "Angels?"
[CM]: Somewhere down below, a window shatters...
[Riker]: "Smell that, kid? That's angels. Always muscling
in. Now, open the circle, let's deal, or we're all dead meat."
[CM]: A man shrieks in terror...
[Riker]: "OK! NOW YOU CONVINCED?!"
[CM]: And something hungry growls...
[Riker]: "Open it up, we'll finish, them we are outta here..."
[Slake]: "What? But the book says if I let you out, you'll kill me!"
Francis looks anxiously around for something with which to break the
circle.
[Riker]: "Old school, kid! We're bound to the caster, remember?"
[CM]: The cargo lift at the end of the warehouse begins to rise...
[Riker]: "We get kicked, you get kicked. Call it enlightened
self-interest. NOW OPEN THE GODDAMNED FUCKING CIRCLE!"
Slake looks from you to the lift and back. Panicked, he runs for the
door. Blue light spills into the warehouse from the rising lift...
Francis strips off his robe, swinging it at the chalk line and trying
to erase part of it that way.
[CM] The robe simply bounces off the edge of the chalk line. Francis
can't touch it.
[CM]: As Slake reaches the door, it buckles inwards...
[CM]: FEAR rolls...
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 82 ]
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 95 ]
[Riker]: "Oh, man..."
DICE for CM: (1d4) = [ 3 ]
[Riker]: "Jackass!"
DICE for CM: (1d4) = [ 1 ]
[CM]: Riker loses 1
[CM]: Fr5ancis loses 3
[CM]: there are some benefits to having seen Hell...
[CM]: The door is wrenched off it's hinges at the same time the lift
clatters to a halt. Slake backpedals furiously as the acrid stench of urine
fills the air. There's the rattle of metal against metal as something flies
out of the darkness and punches through Slake's chest. It's a hook, on
a chain...
Riker scuffs at the circle. "Crap crap crap crap crap...Francis, c'mon,
help me out here..."
[Francis]: "I'm trying, I'm trying..."
[CM]: Suddenly you know they've sent the Nepharim after you...
[CM]: LUCK rolls.
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 93 ]
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 25 ]
[CM]: As something opens the elevator gate, blood from Slake's dangling
corpse runs across the floor. Achingly slowly, it trickles towards you...
Riker waves his hands, encouraging it. "C'mon baby c'mon baby...'
[CM]: There's a shuddering exhalation of desire from the shadows...
Francis pulls the robe back on and slides an arm around Benny, prepared
to run.
[CM]: ...as the blood crosses the chalk. With an audible pop, the circle
breaks.
[Francis]: "Go, go!"
[CM]: Initiative
DICE for Francis: (1d10) = [ 8 ]
DICE for Riker: (1d10) = [ 5 ]
Riker starts running at the pop, headed for the rear fire escape.
Hopefully, there is one.
DICE for CM: (1d10) = [ 5 ]
DICE for CM: (1d10) = [ 9 ]
[CM]: Riker rolls again
DICE for CM: (1d10) = [ 1 ]
DICE for Riker: (1d10) = [ 5 ]
[CM]: The Nepharim nearest the door goes first. The creature appears
to be a skinless human, bound with straps of black leather and steel woven
through exposed muscle and bone. An iron mask is riveted over its eyes,
but it seems to know exactly where you are.
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 42 ]
[CM]: From the shadows behind it, hooks fly out on chains towards you.
[CM]: Riker, what are you doing?
[Riker]: Booking it towards the fire exit, which is hopefully away
from the bad guys.
[Francis]: Ducking...
[CM]: Riker, make an unskilled melee roll.
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 66 ]
[CM]: The hook slashes across your ribs, but fails to bury itself in
your flesh.
DICE for CM: (2d10+4) : 2d10=3,6 = [ 13 ]
[CM]: 13 wounds.
Riker yells, but grits his teeth and keeps going. Pain's
bad; Hell's worse.
[CM]: Francis, you move before the other creature.
[Francis]: Drag Benny, run the hell away...
[CM]: STR roll.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 49 ]
[Francis]: "Benny, MOVE IT!"
[CM]: Benny stumbles after you.
[CM]: AGL roll (both).
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 80 ]
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 1 ]
[CM]: Riker slips in his own ichor and drops to one knee. Above him,
Slake dangles from a hook, pointing at him as he chokes to death in his
own blood.
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 11 ]
Francis stops to help Riker up, shoving Benny ahead of him.
[CM]: LUCK rolls for both.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 18 ]
[CM]: Luck roll for Riker
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 73 ]
[CM]: A chain hisses past Francis' head, just missing him.
Riker stumbles, slipping in the slick concrete and blood. "Goddammit,"
he hisses. "Francis, just go, awright? GO!"
[Francis]: "Not without you - I failed you before and I will NOT do
so again."
[CM]: The first Nepharim stalks into view over Riker's shoulder...
Francis holds out a hand to Riker
[Francis]: "Come ON!"
Riker pushes off the floor, still bleeding. "Awright! Just RUN!"
The second Nepharim sniffs the air, questing blindly. It's eyes have
been stitched shut.
[Nepharim]: "RiiiiiiKerrrrrr"
Riker gets a brainstorm. Casting off the robe, he drops it in
his own blood, then kicks it away.
[CM]: Luck roll, Riker.
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 20 ]
The creature pounces on Riker's robe and begins tearing it to shreds.
Francis shoves Riker ahead of him, after Benny.
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 47 ]
[CM]: Benny is at the door to the fire escape, tugging at the handle.
He pulls the door open.
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 42 ]
DICE for CM: (2d10) : 2d10=5,3 = [ 8 ]
[CM]: As Francis pushes Riker towards the door, the Nepharim slashes
at his back.
[CM]: Francis takes 8 wounds
[Francis]: "Aaaagggghhh!!"
Francis staggers after Benny.
Riker mutters, "Shit, it's cold. Go, go!" He's trying to get
out with Benny and Francis.
[CM]: Between you and the door, the second Nepharim stands, flexing
its glass talons...
[Francis]: "Riker, you go left, I'll go right."
[CM]: roll d6 both.
DICE for Francis: (1d6) = [ 4 ]
DICE for Riker: (1d6) = [ 1 ]
DICE for CM: (1d6) = [ 6 ]
Riker fakes left.
[CM]: The Nepharim slashes right at Francis.
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 15 ]
[CM]: Dodging?
Francis is dodging for all he's worth.
[CM]: unskilled melee roll Francis.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 85 ]
DICE for CM: (4d10) : 4d10=4,8,2,1 = [ 15 ]
[CM]: 15 wounds...
The second Nepharim's claws slash you open from crotch to sternum.
For a second the pain overwhelmes you, driving you blind, deaf and dumb
in an instant of exquistite agony. Then you realise that you're still mobile.
Looking down, you see the open wound spread wide like flesh-toned clay.
There's no blood, just like when you were wounded in Hell...
[CM]: FEAR roll
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 56 ]
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 28 ]
DICE for CM: (1d10) = [ 4 ]
[CM]: Riker loses 2 WPR
DICE for CM: (3d10) : 3d10=8,1,10 = [ 19 ]
[CM]: Francis loses 19 WPR
[CM]: Riker PER roll...
[Francis]: "Dear God..."
Francis is seriously considering just falling down in a fetal position...
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 71 ]
[Riker]: Reverse tactic. Try to get the second one, the one on Francis,
to attack his buddy.
[CM]: PER roll Riker
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 53 ]
[CM]: Riker, you can't persuade it to attack you. It seems focussed
on Francis somehow...
[Francis]: "I...AM...NOT...GOING...BACK!!"
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 4 ]
[CM]: The temperature suddenly drops. Much to your amazement, there's
a blast of heat and the creature bursts into flame. Shrieking, it hurls
itself across the warehouse and into the shadows,shoving it's compatriot
aside. At the far side of the warehouse, there's a dull explosion and a
rush of hot air.
Francis staggers for the door.
[Riker]: That seems like a good idea. I get out of the warehouse, bringing
Benny and Francis with him. Not coincidentally, out of the way of the bad
guys.
[CM]: Benny helps Riker and Francis out of the warehouse and onto the
fire-escape. The night air is warm and soothing.
[Francis]: Keep running...
[Riker]: Run run run...
[Francis]: or, at least, staggering. 'Till I figure out I'm 4 wound
boxes past dead and fail another fear check.
[CM]: The lights of Boston's skyline twinkle at you from across the
water. You appear to be somewhere in the harbour district. Behind you,
the windows of the warehouse glow crimson as the flames take hold. After
running for a while, you realise there isn't going to be an explosion,
just a lovely fire...
[Francis]: "Riker...I don't feel very well..."
[Riker]: "Me neither, man..."
[Francis]: "I'm just guessing, but it could have something to do with
these gaping wounds..."
[CM]: Francis looks bad, his stomach hanging open and empty. He should
be dead. Instead, his wounds look like modelling clay.
Francis pokes at the edges experimentally.
[Riker]: "Let's go find an alley t'hide in. Or a fucking...shit."
[Francis]: "I believe we may need medical attention... any good guesses
for a story?"
Riker looks at his own wounds.
[CM]: They're the same as Francis', just oozing a sort of clear liquid.
Francis tries to push the wound edges back together.
[Riker]: "Shit." He pushes the flaps of pseudo flesh back together.
[CM]: They touch, but they don't stay closed. At the same time, you
all begin to feel hungry. Very hungry.
Francis sighs.
[Francis]: Hungry for what?
[CM]: Just...hungry.
[Francis]: "Well, Mr. Riker, your place or mine?"
[Riker]: "Mine."
[CM]: A distant clangour announces the approach of the fire services...
[Francis]: "I'm assuming, of course, that we're back approximately
where we started. If we can find a newspaper we can either confirm or deny
that."
[CM]: Benny and Francis are clothed - however unconventionally - but
Riker is not...
[Francis]: "I rather suspect we do not wish to be here when the firefighters
arrive. And you should...er...well..."
Francis looks around for something along the lines of a dumpster where
we might find something to cover Riker.
[Riker]: "Yeah. Look, let's find some place to hole up for awhile.
this's creepin' me out."
[Francis]: "I cannot help but wonder why the Nepharite suddenly fled.
It doesn't make any sense...Not that I'm not grateful, mind you."
[Riker]: "It just seemed to spontaneously ignite. What's with that?"
[CM]: Proceeding along the alleyway you're now in, you find a smaller
warehouse with a small dock out back. It looks deserted, and is protected
only by a slim padlock. Why drug users haven't claimed it yet is a mystery...
[Riker]: "Find me a bar, pipe or somethin'..."
Francis looks around...
[CM]: PCN roll.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 52 ]
[CM]: Francis finds a twisted piece of copper piping.
Francis fetches the pipe and hands it to Riker.
Riker wedges the pipe in between the hasp and lock, and twists, trying
to break the lock off.
[CM]: Str roll.
DICE for Riker: (1d100) = [ 39 ]
[CM]: The lock breaks off easily...
[Riker]: "Super. Place's prob'ly fulla coke dealers or giant dinosaurs...c'mon,
let's get in offa' th' street."
Francis tugs on Benny's sleeve to get him to follow and heads into
the warehouse.
[CM]: Benny stumbles in the dark interior with you....
Riker takes a look around, as best he can.
[CM]: Inside the warehouse is dark and musty. The scent of rotting
timbers fills the air, and the gentle lapping of water beneath the floorboards
makes sure you step with caution.
[Riker]: "Fish men or somethin...c'mon, let's see if some nice guys
left their coveralls or somethin."
Francis nods wearily.
Riker searches the place, cautiously, for anything that could be of
use.
[CM]: A small pyramid of old boxes and thunderbird bottles in the corner
tells you you're not the first to call this place home, but the previous
occupant apears to be long gone.
[Francis]: "Mr. Riker, I'm afraid we're still dead...But at least we
are no longer in Hell..."
Riker goes through the boxes. "Yeah, I kinda figured, what with the
meat all screwed up like it is."
[CM]: One of the boxes opens to reveal an old backpack stuffed with
grubby clothes...
[Francis]: "Perhaps we have an opportunity for redemption. And,
if not, perhaps at least we can save the people of Boston this time..."
[Riker]: "Jackpot. Lemme shake these out for vermin."
[CM]: The cobwebs make it unlikely the owner is coming to claim them.
Vigourous shaking detaches a cluster of roaches and the grand-daddy of
all spiders...
Riker shakes the clothes, making sure nasty things like black widow
spiders, ticks, and other insectile vermin get the boot.
[Riker]: "Christ! Yeah, Francis. We're th' good guys, right? Here,
try these on..."
DICE for CM: (1d100) = [ 6 ]
[CM]: There's even a ratty pair of trainers at the bottom of the pack.
Francis sits down, trying to force the edges of his wounds to stay
together and doesn't notice the clothes Riker is waving at him.
[Francis]: "This is quite vexing..."
[Riker]: "Sonofabitch. Dibs on th' shoes. If I can get into my
place, an' the office..."
[Francis]: "Certainly, fine, whatever..." (absently)
Riker puts on the clothing, and anything spare gets turned into some
makeshift bandages - something to keep our heroes together.
[CM]: PCN roll Francis.
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 35 ]
[CM]: Whatever it is your new body is made of, it perfectly resembles
flesh...from the outside. From the inside it's more like clay, but it's
heavily laden with a watery fluid.
[CM]: Make an Occult Lore roll...
DICE for Francis: (1d100) = [ 38 ]
(CM whispered to Francis): Somewhere you recall something about spirits
and water... Then you remember!
(Francis whispered to CM): Remember what?
(CM whispered to Francis): SAVE tested a number of mediums in the early
seventies and got some of them to submit samples of ectoplasm...
[Francis]: "Oh, dear lord in heaven."
(CM whispered to Francis): Under analysis, the substance was found
to be inert organic molecules in a suspension of water. SAVE theorised
that in some cases, spiritual manifestations might actually be composed
of the mediums own waste tissue combined with atmosperic moisture.
[Riker]: "What, man?"
[Francis]: "We... we... are... ectoplasm."
(CM whispered to Francis): Major manifestations might actually feed
off the medium's living tissue, possibly putting them at risk, hence, the
insurance of the "mediums circle."
[Francis]: "Manifestations."
[Riker]: "What, like in Ghostbusters? I don't feel like
slime, man."
(CM whispered to Francis): There was one fact that you now find deeply
disturbing..
(Francis whispered to CM): (((apprehensively) And that is?))
(CM whispered to Francis): Ectoplasm, even densely packed ectoplasm,
has a limited life span once separated from the medium. Eventually, it
breaks down, becoming a watery slime....
[Riker]: "Francis, man, talk to me, here..."
Francis looks up at Riker, dismayed
[Riker]: "What?"
[Francis]: "We are slime, Mr. Riker - it's only a matter of
time. We must accomplish whatever we can before we... degenerate.
Before we decompose."
Session ends
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