Francis:  "Er... nice doggy?"

Francis rolled 1d10 for a total of 3 [3]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 9 [9]
Benny rolled 1d10 for a total of 4 [4]
Riker rolled 1d10 for a total of 4 [4]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 4 [4]

Riker rolled 1d10 for a total of 5 [5]
Benny rolled 1d10 for a total of 3 [3]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 1 [1]

Benny fightes the urge to turn tail and run holding the shotgun as if it could stop one of these beasts.

Francis backs toward the pyramid/bed.  "Er... sit? Stay?"

CM:  The first beast attacks... Benny.

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 51 [51]

Benny:  Oh yes

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 73 [73]

CM:  The hound slams into Benny, knocking him to the ground, The creatures slavvering muzzle snaps at his face, inch long fangs slashing at eyes and neck. Dex roll to hang on to the shotgun.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 81 [81]

Riker:  "Shit!"

Benny:  "AHH!!"he screams as the air leaves his lungs.

CM:  The second beast attacks...Riker.

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 45 [45]

CM:  Dodging?

Riker:  You bet your arse I am.

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 86 [86]

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 54 [54]

Riker:  "SHIT!"

Private message from Francis to CM:  Anything I can use here to disarm them? Occult/Legend-Lore?
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 11 [11]
Private message from CM to Francis:  These are sanctum guardians. they could be enchanted animals, or demons in dog form. Make a rolls on the skills you mentioned.
Private message from CM to Francis:  These look like enchanted dogs to you. The only way to defeat them is physical force. At least they're mortal...

Francis:  "Mr. Riker, Mr. Fitzpatrick - they're enchanted dogs.  Physical damage can destroy them."

CM:  Benny, Riker, roll your attacks

Riker screws the muzzle into the pooch's ear. "Gonna make you faw down, go boom."

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 25 [25]
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 15 [15]

Riker's lips split in a rictus grimace, an animal snarl every bit as nasty as the slavering dog's. Covered in the backwash of gore, bone and brain, he doesn't bother to stand...just sits up.  "BOO-YAAAAH!  BENNY!  ROLL IT OVER ON TOP'A YOU, MAN!"

CM:  The dog yipes as Benny's knee connects, flipping it over his head...

Benny:  "SHOOT IIIT!!"

Francis scrambles for the shotgun

Riker tracks, still grinning like a fool.  Red dot, soon to be a big red hole...

Francis shoves the shotgun into Benny's hands.

Benny:  "Thank you!" Benny turns hoping to fill the hound with little lead pellets.

Francis gives a courtly little bow and skitters back away from the dogs.

Private message from Riker to CM:  Riker's gonna make damn sure he ain't in the way...and still keep that laser on the pooch.  Plug it if Benny don't first.
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 68 [68]

Francis:  "Oh, dear... too bad about the carpet..."

Benny almost feels sorry for the enchanted dogs. Then again... "Good riddance"

Smile emerges from behind Francis. "Man, that was loud."

Riker stands, finally.  "Shit, man!  Zombies, killer dogs...I want out of here, man!"  The wires holding that damn bell are snipped with the ever-popular lock-blade knife, and the box retrieved.

Benny:  "Remember the cup.  That's what we are here for." Benny looks around trying to spot anything that looks like an old ultra-holy cup.

Riker:  "Goddamn dog chewed up my fuckin' jacket, man!"  He hefts the box.  "Somebody else open it.  I'm on my last nerve, man."

Benny:  "Give it to me.  I'll open it"

CM:  Apart from the silver pyramid framework over the bed, and the dead dogs on the floor, there's little else to see here.

Riker hands the box over.

Francis:  "Remember, it's a carpenter's cup, Mr. Fitzpatrick.  Look for something Mr. Smile can't bear to approach."

Riker:  "Yeah...c'mere, Smiley..."

Smile frowns. "Oh, yeah, like that was sensitive..."

Benny:  "He may have been a carpenter, but I have no idea how a cup like that would look.

Smile wanders over to Riker.

Francis:  "Humble, I should think.  Utilitarian - clay, perhaps wood."

Benny:  "Anything that looks like a cup would do it for me."

Riker grins and brushes bits of brain and clotting crap off his jacket.  "Man...you an' I can be twins now, Francis!"

Francis gives Riker a puzzled look.  "Why?  We look nothing whatsoever alike..."

Private message from CM to Riker:  STA Roll at half
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 98 [98]
Private message from CM to Riker:  Your childhood fear of dogs (listed as a disad) floods back, and you puke...

Francis jumps back out of the way, looking a little green himself.

Francis:  "Er.. are you all right?"

CM:  The box is held shut by a simple padlock, the sort of thing you can pick up for a couple of bucks.

Riker:  "This ain't exactly impressive...hey, Smiley, you gettin' any impression off'a it?"

Smile frowns. "Not off the box, but there's somethin'in it that's freaky."

Riker:  "Let's pop it open, like, outside, dig?  We are burning down the house here." Riker starts looking for a nice fire escape.

CM:  There's no fire escape at this window...

Benny:  "Oh boy.  This certainly sounds like the prize."

Riker calls, over his shoulder, "Or it's another trap!"

Private message from CM to Francis:  It's not big enough for a cup...

Riker mutters to himself, "I hope it don't make me puke again.  Twice in an hour...I ain't got nothin' left."

Francis:  "It isn't large enough to hold the cup, gentlemen."

Benny follows Riker carefully, expecting another walking dead at any moment.

Private message from Benny to CM:  How big is it?
Private message from CM to Benny:  About the size of two hardback books.

Riker starts searching the hallway, other rooms.  Riviera surely isn't stupid enough to leave himself trapped...

Francis trails behind, still looking for the cup. "Simple deduction, Benny."

Riker:  "Maybe it's a folding cup. Fuck! Shake this fuckin' place down, then..."  He starts looking for a fire escape and the cup.

Francis searches methodically, as if the building weren't burning beneath them.

Private message from CM to Riker:  No smoke is coming up the stairs...there are several doors still unchecked
Private message from Riker to CM:  Check 'em, gun in hand.
Private message from Benny to CM:  Does the pyramid framework have any space to hold a cup?
Private message from CM to Benny:  Nope, it's just thin tubes.

Benny looks near the bed, staying close to the ground but avoiding the bits and pieces of dog goo.

CM:  Riker; The first room you check is a library. The room is mid-sized, and lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each one packed to overflowing. A quick glance at the shelves revels that almost every volume here is either suspicious, disquieting, or disgusting. De Sade's "120 Days of Sodom" lies next to the Sian Li, the darkly fabled collection of delicious recipes using human flesh. The most inoccent texts present are a row of textbooks devoted to molecular biology and organic chemistry. The plaque above the shelves categorises these works as "light reading".

Benny turns the bed over, hoping not to ind anything too disgusting.

Riker grimaces.  Keeps searching.  Yanks books off shelves a moment after looking at the titles, shaking them for keys and such.  "Human heart in that box, I betcha."

CM:  One set of shelves solely contains volumes on torture, sado-masochism, erotica and surgery. Another section of shelves bear perhaps three hundred texts on black magic, demonology, sorcery and the paranormal. The quality ranges from supermarket paperbacks to steel and leather bound volumes blackened with age. These are grouped under "humor".

Riker:  "Francis, man, can you use any'a these?"

CM:  In the center of the room is a repugnant ornately carved black pulpit vaguely resembling an octopus, its undulating tentacles supporting a large black book, whose ancient cover is inscribed in what looks like arabic script.

Riker stares.  "Fucking Necronomicon.  I recognize it from 'Army of Darkness'.  Francis, man, check this out..."

Benny:  "The cup, people. Focus on the cup."

Francis is raptly studying the shelves... until he turns and sees the podium.  No moth was ever drawn so fast...

Private message from Francis to CM:  Oooooh.... Francis is in the candy store (albeit a somewhat dark candy store).  Legend-lore- what MUST I save?
Private message from CM to Francis: Occult Lore roll please.
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 48 [48]

Riker:  "I bet it explodes, summons demons, had a squid-headed dude in it...somethin'."

Private message from CM to Francis: Incredibly, this may be a copy of the "Sefer Raziel", reputed to be the book of divine magic stolen from Heaven and given to Adam by the angel Raziel, who was destroyed for his sins. The book is held to be a sort of "user's manual" for reality, capable of transforming those with understanding into gods...

Francis:  "Oh, dear god..."

Benny:  "What now?"

Riker:  "Wouldn't that be just lovely."  Said sourly.  "Lemme guess, Francis..."  For some reason, he winces at Benny's statement...

Francis lifts the book carefully, almost reverently, and opens it.

CM:  Luck roll, Francis.

Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 38 [38]

Riker stares, still pulling and checking books.  "Toldja."

Francis:  "Er. Oh... my goodness."

Benny:  "Francis.  That was damned lucky."

CM:  If you weren't clumsy, you'd have been gutted like a fish...

Benny:  "Let's get back to our business.  Remember Carla is somewhere out there and so is Cabot."

CM:  The book is a fake, hollowed out to conceal the blade.

Private message from CM to Benny:  PCN roll
Private die roll from Benny:  1d100Total 47 [47]
Private message from CM to Benny:  You notice a small book, about the size of a modern notebook, bound in leather an perched casually on the edge of a shelf. It's almost tempting to overlook it, but the perverse notion that it is meant to be overlooked enters your head.

Riker mutters, "Hey, Caaaabot..."  Still looking things through.  "Francis, man...grab anything that doesn't eatcher soul.  I'm gonna shake the rest of this place down."

Benny:  "Francis, look at this one."Benny approaches a small book perched on the edge of a shelf.

Francis climbs to his feet and dusts his pants off fussily, then looks over at Benny.

Benny grabs the book as if he hadn't just seen Francis almost die for his reckless curiosity.

Francis:  "Eh?  What's that, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"

Private message from CM to Riker:  The next room is a dining room, with a connecting door to the kitchen.

CM:  The little book is blank, easily missed...perhaps deliberately so.

Francis holds out his hand questioningly.

Benny:  "Maybe its better if I open it and THEN hand it to you." Benny proceeds to open it carefully.

Private message from CM to Benny:  It's a mass of scrawled ink and funny sketches, obviously occult in nature. Nothing happens.

Benny:  "Nothing hs exploded, or tried to kill me so far. Except for the damned dogs and the zombies and vampries and all of that."

Francis:  "Well, that's a positive development."

Benny:  "I'll bet my writing hand this is the real deal." Benny hands the little book to Francis.

Private message from CM to Francis:  The book is a tightly scrawled mass of notes, some in code, some not. The diagrams and sketches accompanying the text seem to indicate that this is an experimental notebook of ritual magic. Though highly personalised, you might be able to figure some of this stuff out, given time.

Riker cruises out of the room, Smiley in tow.  "C'mon."  From the next room.  "Think we should check th' cookery?"

Private message from CM to Riker:  Smile shakes his head. "Think I'll pass on this creep's kitchen. I've eaten."
Private message from Riker to CM:  Against his better judgement, Riker goes into the kitchen for a quick look-see.  Cups're kept in the kitch, right?
Private message from CM to Riker:  It looks like a normal kitchen. There is however a conspicuous absence of salt...

Benny:  "Let's go.  We have to help Riker look for the damned cup.  Which reminds me; no signs of Monsieur River."

Francis:  "Let me take this for later study - it's a workbook of sorts.  It could be helpful, but it will take time to make it out."

Benny:  "Any sketch look like the cup, perhaps?"

Francis riffles through the pages quickly.

Private message from CM to Riker:  The other room is a den, with a media center and stacks of porno tapes and cds. That's it for this floor...other than the bathroom of course, which needs cleaning badly.
Private message from Riker to CM:  Keep looking the place over.
Private message from CM to Francis:  Nothing that looks like the cups, but some of the stuff in here is fascinating...
Private message from CM to Francis:  Reanimating the Dead, healing, protection, curses...Rivera was a busy boy...
Private message from Riker to CM:  Come to think of it, check the tapes and such.  Riviera might just have done something dumb like taped a sacrifice.  Nice thing to give to the cops.

Benny:  "What?...what?"

Francis:  "Reanimating the dead, healing, protection, curses... quite the renaissance mage, our Mr. Rivera."

Private message from CM to Francis:  some of the stuff is truly stomach churning. You'll need quite a while to get anything usefull out of this scrawl though.

Francis sighs and flips the book shut, tucking it into his inside jacket pocket. "No, I'm afraid not. We must continue the search."

Private message from CM to Riker:  Most of the tapes are porno, or what might be snuff films. Nothing magical about them. He's taped a lot of something called "Videodrome" though. Having completed your search upstairs, you realise that if Rivera is here, he's most likely in the cellar, and he almost certainly knows you're here.
Private message from Riker to CM: Izzat Debbie Harry?  Jesus fucking weird shit.  Collect a few of the snuff, drop 'em in a pocket.  FBI might be interested.

Francis:  "Something Mr. Riker?"

Riker:  "Naw, nothin'.  Some tapes, weird shit called Videodrome...if he's here, he's downstairs. We oughta let th' place burn down around his ears.  C'mon, help me find the fire escape. Me, I don't really wanna go into th' basement..."

Francis:  "Tapes?  Show me..."

Riker pulls a few from a pocket.  Videodrome, some others.  "Little girls an' shit.  Snuff, maybe.  Figured the FBI might wanna know."

Francis:  "Not at all a savory individual, Mr. Rivera.  He must be around somewhere."

Riker:  "Like I said...underneath us, if anything.  I don't wanna go meet his basement'a th' living dead, though.  Guess we ain't got a choice, huh? Hey...Smiley?"

Mr Smile:  "Yeah?" Smile appears out of the gloom.

Riker:  "Check th' downstairs door, man, wouldja?"

Mr Smile:  "The ground floor, or the basement?"

Riker:  "The one we came in, man. Unless you got another way t'get into th' basement."

Mr Smile:  "The stairwell goes down there as well as up here. I guess you were too busy frying dead guys to notice."

Francis:  "Ah, well.. you would know about depths, wouldn't you Mr. Smile?" Francis rubs his hands together briskly, dusting them off.

Riker:  "Wel...shit.  Like I said...got no choice.  Let's do this."

Francis:  "Shall we, gentlemen?"

Benny:  "Yes, we shall."

Riker:  "Fuckin' a."  He reloads the pistol, keeping the 1-down clip handy.  Just in case.

CM:  Heading down the stairs, you can see that the fire door to the ground floor has held up well, with only a few wisps of smoke escaping to the stairwell. The damp makes it likely the fire is contained behind the door...

Benny checks how many casings he still has (for the shotgun).

CM:  Depends on how many shells Riker gave you.You've used three.

Riker gave Benny-boy a box, which is 25.

Benny:  "Oh boy, oh boy.  I still have a lot of lead to distribute."

Smile shudders. "I don't know man. This is all screwed up. This place is a Sorcerer's sanctum. That's like a little slice of his own personal reality. My powers don't work the same here."

Benny:  "That doesn't sound encouraging at all, Smile."

Mr Smile:  "Wasn't meant to."

Francis:  "We must do what we must do, Mr. Smile.  Onward."

Riker:  "Load up.  We're gonna play Meester Riviera an Ozzy song.  Zombie Stomp.  One'a my faves, don'tcha know."  He grins at Smiley.  "Man, we got no choice.  We do this, or we're done, that simple.  Sweep an' clear.  Just fuck 'em up if you can, dig?"

Smile nods.

CM:  The firedoor at the bottom of the stairs opens into a wide, dark passageway in much the same state of disrepair as the ground floor. A string of low wattage bulbs hangs loosely from the ceiling, casting dim yellow light into the darkened corners of this basement corridor. To your right, the passageway turns a corner into darkness. To your left are two doors, on opposing sides of the passage.

CM:  Which way?

Riker:  "Listen at th' doors.  Carefully.  I'll cover th' dark 'till we're clear."

CM:  Pcn rolls guys.

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 32 [32]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 75 [75]
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 58 [58]

Riker whispers, "Heads up.  Walkin' dudes."

Francis:  "Eh?"

Benny:  "Here we go..."

CM:  What are you doing?

Riker is keeping his ears open, listening for the direction of the shuffling.  And covering the dark.  "Smiley," he whispers.  "Think you can conjure up some salt?"

Benny is waiting for any dead guy to appear so that he can blow his head off. Riker's ways must be rubbing off on Benny.

Francis is sweating and trying not to quiver.

Smile concentrates. A ball of light flickers between his outsretched hands for a moment, in the heart of which you can seee something unfolding, then it sputters and dies. "Bastard won't allow it."

Benny will stay close to Francis at all times.

Benny:  "Willingly, you mean?  Or is it something about the place?"

Mr Smile:  "When a Sorcerer creates his place of power, he lays down the ground rules. He's done something to stop creation spells."

Riker:  "What about destruction of the animating force?"

Mr Smile:  "That's major juju, man. He's got that covered."

Riker:  "Ok...so what do we got, then? Fire? Acid?  Nasty language? Bad haircuts?"

Francis:  In spite of his terror, Francis chuckles.

Mr Smile:  "Physical force is about it."

Riker:  "Shit. Howsabout someone checkin' that box, then, before the dead buddies wax us?"

Benny:  "Guess that is my cue."

Francis holds out his hands for it. "I might as well, I'm no good in a fight."

Benny:  "Don't worry, I'll do it." Benny holds the box intently for a second or two and then proceeds to open it.

CM:  It's locked.

Riker hands over the crowbar from his belt.  "Pop th' lock."

CM:  The shuffling noises are getting closer. You still have a chance to reach the doors before whatever it is turns the corner.

Benny tries the crowbar anyway, placing the box on the floor.

Riker quietly tries a door.

CM:  The door opens.

Riker peeks inside, quick-like.

Private message from CM to Riker:  the room is empty, some kind of shrine....

CM:  The other door is yanked open from the other side...

CM:  Standing on the other side of the door is a monstrosity... And behind it, more...

Riker raises the gun, whipcrack fast.  "FUCK!"

CM:  It seems Rivera has been less than satisfied with merely reanimating the dead. He appears to have been...modifying them as well. The decaying gang that swarms towards you sport axe blades and cleavers jutting from their bodies, additional limbs, fanged and snarling animal heads for hands and plates of metal riveted to their rotting flesh. Many carry weapons. You count at least ten creatures in the charging tangle, maybe more.

Francis: "God!"

CM:  Around the corner swarm more of the same.

Benny:  "Your god has forsaken us, Francis."

Riker:  "Son of a BITCH!"  Riker leaps back.  "Run for it!"

Benny grabs the box and starts running. "Francis, RUN!!"

Riker snags Francis' arm on the fly, and yanks him along.

Francis waves the crowbar in front of him as if it will help.

Smile yells, "Move!" He runs to the door to the shrine and yanks it open. "In here!"

Riker books it into the shrine.

Francis is dragged along, fortunately.

Benny runs to where the demon screams from.

Private message from CM to Francis: Pcn roll.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 15 [15]
Private message from CM to Francis:  Behind the mass of creatures you spy a figure out of place amongst them, a dreadlocked white guy in a psychedilic t-shirt and jeans. He carries a twisted staff of some dark wood, adorned with white shapes that could be rat skulls. His eyes are empty and sharklike, and his grin is one of gleeful anticipation.

Francis:  "Our quarry was with them, gentlemen. And he looked far too happy..."

Benny:  "Too bad we don't have a flamethrower handy." Benny trys the crowbar on the box.

Francis:  "May I try, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"

Benny:  "Hey Francis, do you think there is anything in that book we found that might help in stopping those slowpokes?"

Francis:  "Not any time soon, I fear.  It's all rather.. murky."

CM:  Init roll Riker

Riker rolled 1d10 for a total of 4 [4]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 10 [10]

Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 15 [15]

CM:  The room is big, maybe forty foot square and is has been remodeled so that it seems to be the interior of a pyramid. Four ornate braziers are arranged around the center of the room, which is occupied by a three-foot tall, three foot wide silver pyramid. A crystal statue of something vile and bat-like squats obscenely at the pryamids peak, a crude copper bowl at its feet.

Mr Smile:  "Varinae," Smile mutters.

Riker:  "Fucking check that shit out!  It's gonna take them maybe a minute, tops, to bust down that door."

CM:  The door starts to shudder under the blows. Thin cracks start to form in the wood.

Riker levels his pistol at the door.  "Would busting that shrine up de-animate these fuckers?!"

Benny:  "I sure hope something like that."

Smile shakes his head. "Rivera's powering those bastards himself."

Riker:  "Keep the fucking guns on the door!  C'mon, give me something, man!  What if he loses power?"

Mr Smile:  "If he dies, they die. That's it man."

Benny:  "So shoot at Rivera, people."

Private message from CM to Francis:  The box contains almost $100,000 in used bills, a sheaf of letters bearing a Massachusetts postmark, a slim silver key and an intricately worked bone flute.
Private message from Francis to CM:  The flute - occult significance?
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 51 [51]
Private message from CM to Francis:  In Haiti such things were used to control Zombies...

Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 78 [78]
Private message from Francis to CM:  Oh, spit... can I try again?
Private message from CM to Francis:  That's all you get.

Riker:  "Fuck.  Benny, you stay there.  I'm movin' to one side.  Crossfire."  He pulls out half a dozen flares, tossing three of them to Benny as he moves to the door.  Laid in a rough triangle and lit, they form a crude barrier of fire.  "When they bust in, man.  Fuck 'em up."

CM:  The top corner of the door smashes in and a taloned hand gropes for the handle...

Riker flattens against the wall, half a dozen steps from the door.

Benny shoots at the hole, hoping not to open the door himself.

CM:  The door splinters open and the dead spill in...

Francis:  "Mr. Smile, I don't suppose you play?"

Smile reaches for the flute. There's an electrical discharge and he snatches his hand back. "Doesn't look like it."

Riker grits his teeth.  Wait for it, wait for it...he's looking for Riviera.  Wait for the dead to thin out...if Riviera don't come in, maybe a stupid dive through will catch his ass off guard...

Francis:  "Damn. Neither do I.  This could control them... "

CM:  The rotting gang move swiftly towards you...

Private message from CM to Riker:  Pcn check.
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 92 [92]

Francis backs to the altar

Private message from CM to Francis:  WPR roll
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 25 [25]
Private message from CM to Francis:  You dimly recall playing the recorder in your junior school play.
Private message from Francis to CM:  Francis will take a deep breath and try it again, shutting out memories of scornful laughter...

Benny squeezes the trigger of the shotgun which fires with an insane blast.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 98 [98]

Benny cocks for the next shell and steadies himself for the next shot.

Riker stays flattened, horror keeping his nerves just under control enough to wait for the shot.

Francis takes a deep breath and puts the flute to his lips again.

CM:  They stumble towards you, blocking off all escape, bladed weapons raised high....

Private message from CM to Francis:  Dex roll
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 72 [72]

Benny:  "Keep at it, Francis...

Private message from Francis to CM:  Concentrate, CONCENTRATE!!.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 21 [21]

Riker waits for the shot.  Waits...

CM:  The dead, falter, then stop. As one they start to rock gently back and forth. A low moaning rises from their ruined throats....

Riker mutters, shakily, "Next he'll play 'Jesus Loves Me'..."  He's sliding forward, painfully slow, towards the door...

Private message from CM to Riker:  Over the heads of the dead, you see Rivera, a dreadlocked white punk in a psychedilic t-shirt. He carries a twisted staff of dark wood, and his jaw has dropped in astonishment.

Private message from Riker to CM: I'm gonna pop up like a Jack in the Box and pop him in the guts.  Don't wanna kill him...yet.
Private message from CM to Francis:  Dex roll again.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 68 [68]

Benny is going to stay between Francis and the dead, brandishing the shotgun, ready to take them out one at a time.

Private message from CM to Francis:  Again, please.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 64 [64]

CM:  After a promising start, Francis seems to have lost it. The dead turn on you again...

Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 22 [22]

CM:  As a rotting hand reaches for Riker, Francis finds the notes again....

Riker whines, deep in his throat, waiting for the axes and knives to fall...Two seconds, that's all he needs.

Private message from CM to Francis:  and again
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 88 [88]
Private message from Francis to CM:  AAAAGGGGHHHH

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 97 [97]
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 71 [71]

Benny approaches the Dead and puts the nozzle of the shotgun to the head of the zombie who is squeezing and pulls the trigger.

CM:  The world goes boom as Benny's shotgun destroys the head of Riker's attacker...

Benny:  "Go for him, Riker;  or we are dead!!"

CM:  Rivera spots Riker as the dead stir once more, and he ducks away, slamming a door behind him...

Riker shoots anyways.  Funny, you know...bullets go through doors.  Especially big ones.  He's still pounding forward, too, if he can.

CM:  Riker's shots slam into the door, denting it.

Riker rushes forward, slamming into the door.  One hand yanks on the knob, and he ducks...

CM:  Benny, the dead are surging towards you and Francis...

Benny shouts "Go after him,  I'll hold them for as long as I can!!"

Francis glares at the flute as if it had bitten him. "Damn it, play!"

Riker mutters, not quite panicking, "I'm on it.  I'm all over that shit."

Private message from CM to Riker:  The room is obviously a laboratory of some sort, though what kind of lab is far from certain. Equipment straight out of medieval alchemical texts vie for bench space with computers and centrifuges. A large slab dominates the room, and strapped to it is a writhing and snarling mass of putrescence that can only be one of Rivera's latest projects. In the far corner of the room, an antique mirror stands oddly out of place. Somewhere, something is beeping.
Private message from Riker to CM:  Pop the mirror, then search for the source of the beeping.
Private message from CM to Riker:  The mirror's too big to miss. Rivera is nowhere to be seen... and the beeping is coming from a bench close by...
Private message from Riker to CM:  Bomb? Oh shit!

Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 21 [21]

Benny:  "Smile, grab one of the flares and use it if they approach Francis."

CM: Benny, are you still firing?

Benny: Hell yes!

CM:  As you fire the shambling thing raises a hand in a futile attempt to ward off the shot. The impact blows his hand off before ploughing an inches wide trench through his head.

Francis jumps, but keeps the tune going as he edges toward the door.

Benny:  After that last blast Benny follows Francis with his finger firmly in the trigger.

Private message from CM to Riker:  Under one of the work benches, a digital timer is counting down. 37...36...35...
Private message from CM to Riker:  As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see a mad tangle of wires spreading to small paper wrapped bricks taped to the underside of every bench. There are dozens of them, each with it's own tinnily beeping timer. 28...27...26...
Private message from Riker to CM:  Riker curses, and yanks the timer out.  Fuggit.
 You'll never get them all in time. Pcn roll
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 65 [65]
Private message from Riker to CM:  I'm gonna die.  Aw, shit.
Private message from CM to Riker:  You shot the mirror, but it's still intact, rippling like water...20...19...18...17...

Private message from CM to Riker: 15...14...13...12...

CM:  The two of you stumble into a laboratory of some sort, though what kind of lab is far from certain. Equipment straight out of medieval alchemical texts vie for bench space with computers and centrifuges. A large slab dominates the room, and strapped to it is a writhing and snarling mass of putrescence that can only be one of Rivera's latest projects. In the far corner of the room, an antique mirror stands oddly out of place, rippling like a pool of mercury. Dangling below a workbench you can see the glow of an led readout, counting down with regular electronic beeps.

Francis looks to Benny for guidance, still playing.

Private message from CM to Riker:  You diving into the mirror?
Private message from Riker to CM: Yeah.  Fuck me hard with a chainsaw, but yeah.  Sploosh.

Riker is running for the mirror, yelling, "GO GO GO!"

Francis follows Riker.

CM:  Riker is sprinting for the mirror, he dives for it, and vanishes through the glass...

CM:  4...3...

Francis jumps after him without hesitation.

Benny is close on their heels.

Smile is neck and neck with Benny.

CM:  2...1...

CM:  *BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM*!!!!!!!

Session ends