Bad night at Black moon Farm

Bad Night at Black Moon farm

Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/10/2009 2:05 pm
Dave jumps back as the shot near his foot throws up soil. He begins to lumber back, cursing.

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:11 pm
The eerie silence has finally been broken, but the deadly danger coats the night with the smell of gun powder. In the truck, you can hear the woman begin to speak at the sound of gun fire, but you can't make it out from here.

Victor has no luck trying to place the shooter with binoculars- he sees a flash to the north, but the night swallows the light far too quickly for him to place the shooter.

Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/10/2009 2:14 pm
Dave tightens his grip on the shotgun and ducks into cover... preferably in a position where he can clamber into the truck.

"You see 'em?"


Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:16 pm
Victor replies to the negative, reaffirming his desire to get the woman to a doctor. She's stable, but won't last long without medical help. This makes the woman start to moan again, this time muttering about 'Potter'.

"Potter lied..." She manages. "Now he's trying to - to kill us all..."

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:21 pm Elsewhere

A Professor with a very unusual cane had just been welcomed into Crawford's kitchen. He'd been offered some cool lemonade. The glass had barely been set down on the counter when the sound of a truck starting up could be heard.

"Ray has to be heading home," The blonde woman in the doctor's coat explained to Sam. "- I get the impression his wounds made his wife nervous."

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:24 pm There were no complaints as the truck was fired up and pulled back onto the road. As the truck pulled out, there was the sound of a startled scream. The rifle rang out again and the scream cut off. There was a sinister qaulity to it, a certainty that someone may have just died. Urgency pulls at you to hurry, that the good you hope to be doing fades every minute you are away from the farm.

Pulling into the farm, you note that Ray's truck is gone. There are two cars present and a motorbike, lights inside signal someone is home.

Professor:
126 | 09/10/2009 2:25 pm
"Understandable." Samuel commented, taking a refreshing drink from the glass. "Any wound is worth checking out in case it is worse than it appears. Amazing how many people die each year from a neglect for simple hygiene..."

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:32 pm "It is cause for concern." Doctor Hollandale replied, her eyes drawn out to the front yard at the sound of squeling tires. She stands and moves to the front door. At seeing the truck back so soon, she mutters
"What the hell?" She takes the stairs down two at a time.


"What happened?" The Doctor barks professionally as she reaches the truck and sees the woman.

"Get her out, carefully. Bring her to the kitchen table."
She directs efficiency, already reaching under the woman's shirt, checking the bandage. After a moment, she places a stehoscope to the woman's heart.

Frowning, she hustles to the kitchen where she grabs a black bag, drawing a needle and a small vial from it. Setting the bag down beside the woman, she gives the woman an injection, assuring.
"This will help with the pain. What's your name? Are you allergic to anything?"

Professor:
126 | 09/10/2009 2:34 pm
Samuel eyed the woman's injuries with a concerned expression on his face. "What happened?" he asked Dave and Doc curiously.


Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/10/2009 2:38 pm
"Shot. Once, I think." Dave mutters. "And she fell off a bike."

Professor:
126 | 09/10/2009 2:40 pm
Samuel was at the doctor's side with minimal delay, hands clean and gauze at the ready.

Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/10/2009 2:42 pm
"Fuck if I know. It was dark. Couldn't see past her babbling on a bike. Next thing 'boom' she falls off the bike and we're dodging rounds."

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:46 pm
"Damn," The Doctor breathes at hearing Dave's explaination. "- is there any one else hurt?"

As she speaks, she lifts the guaze that Sam has placed and reaches into the wound. The woman cries out in pain, a piteous mew. Undeterred, the doctor drew out a slightly flattened bullet and dropped it into a metal pan. Deftly she laced stiches along the wound, commanding Sam to press here or wipe there.

As she finished, she set down the instruments and again places a stehoscope to the woman's heart.

"I - I didn't think I was going to make it there." The woman managed. "Thank you. Thank you. My name's Desi," The woman manages, her face pale and sweaty under the amber kitchen light.
"- Desi Wright. I've been here a few weeks with Potter and the others. There's been talk of this for a bit, but I didn't think it'd be so bad."

Her eyes look haunted by the horrors of whatever bad events she is referring to.


Professor:
126 | 09/10/2009 2:48 pm
Samuel laid a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder. "It's alright my dear. You're among those who wish you no ill will. Nobody will hurt you here."

Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/10/2009 2:51 pm
Dave frowns, wondering whether the other guy meant what he said. They had no idea who this woman was. He decides not to have this discussion in front of her.

"Who's Potter?"



Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 2:53 pm
Dark eyes flit to Sam and latch onto them hope making her eyes well with unshed tears. At Dave's question, she tenses up.
"Calvin Potter," She says finally. "The one in charge at Black Moon Farm.
He said it'd be painless," She relives quietly, but she looks away from Sam now, trying to sit up and stare at the front door. It's as if she expects to be sought out.
"I didn't think many would actually do it. Not the children. Never the children. But I saw Belle drink the brew and then try to force it on little Henry. He got away from her and I tried to follow him. Try to help him..."

Dave Ellis:
"Slow down, lady, this 'Potter' does things to children?"

Professor:
126 | 09/10/2009 2:58 pm "What kind of things Desi?" Samuel asked Desi, his tone still gentle but a firmness to his voice suggesting he wasn't going to be satisfied without some kind of an answer.

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 3:00 pm "To every one." Desi replies, staring at you with wide eyes. "Said he had to take us to Paradise, where the Black muck of the world wouldn't drag us down. Some drank the brew they were given.

But the children started to cry. He - he struck little Sally Marsden. Her daddy tried to - but they shot him, right in front of his little girl. Then there was screams... and blood..."

Hollandale rubs her arms at the woman's account, as though trying to warm herself. Her face is drawn now and she fiddles with her hands, having already sanitized and repacked the tools as the men spoke to Desi.

She appears deeply disturbed by the account.

"Then there were the laughs." Desi says, with a voice drawn from a place of deep, bone abiding fear. "The laughs in the dark..."
***
====

Professor:
"Do you know any more about this 'brew'?" Samuel asked, trying to piece together anything that might give an idea as to exactly what was going on at Black Moon Farm.

Storyteller:

"Doctor Prekovsky brought it out to every one in the Barn," Desi whispers. "- from the hen house. Before the darkness started moving.
"That was the worst part."
She breathes quietly, as though some unknown terror was more deeper than the immediate battery of children and the murder of protective parents before her very eyes.

Dave Ellis:
"Wait, wait, I still want to hear the part about how this Potter guy shot a man in front of his daughter and none of you did anything. Why not?"


Storyteller:

"It - it wasn't like that..." Desi begins to shiver. "People drank - and then they started falling over. People were walking between the bodies, grabbing the ones who wouldn't drink.

I saw Theodora grab Sally and pick her up- then the Doctor tried to grab Henry. I had to help him," She implored you. "- Henry's only nine. His own mother tried to make him drink but... I expect she's dead now.

I had to find Henry. He has no one else." She suddenly begins to shudder.
"But I couldn't find him- did you find him? Is he still with the Doctor?"
Her teeth begin to chatter, the shakes jerking her body violently.

Professor:
"Fear is a terribly efficient motivator for inaction." Samuel commented. "It sounds very much like Mr Potter and Dr. Prekovsky have the residents of Black Moon Farm overwhelmed by it."

Dave Ellis:
"Yeah, I don't know any Henry. We never got past the front gate. Stop dancing around about this drink, Lady, what is it, poisoned kool-aid? Jonestown juice? What?"

[color=#40FFBF]
Professor:

Frowning the Professor headed to the kitchen door, picking up a black backpack from beside the doorway and removing a well-kept laptop. Returning to the table, he pushed his glass of lemonade to one side and switched the appliance on.
"Prekovsky... hardly a common name. Perhaps we may find something of interest regarding his person."

Dave Ellis:

"It's probably pretty common in Poland or wherever. Just saying."

Storyteller:
7 | 09/10/2009 3:19 pm "You have to help them." Desi whispers, her dark eyes widened to the point you can see the whites of her eyes, hideously contorting her face into one of stricken, immobilizing fear.

"T -they'll all die. The children-"

"All right." The doctor cut across the questioning, wrapping a blanket around the woman's shoulders.
"That's enough. She's going into shock. I'm taking her down to the car and Crawford's driving her to the hospital."

Even as Crawford and Hollandale lifted the woman from the table, she begin to weep inconsolably.

"The children! Henry! May God bless you, Theodora!"


Management:
Professor has rolled an Go Go Gadget Google-Fu! roll (6 dice), getting 10, 5, 3, 9, 6, 1, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 3 successes.


Dave Ellis:

Dave shrugs and rifles through his holdall, inspecting the tazer glove a little more closely.

"So she's a nut and that farm's a cult. That's something. Don't know about witches though..."


Professor:

"Regardless, we shouldn't stand by while murder and worse could be taking place." Samuel said in response.

Dave Ellis:
"Right. We should call the cops."

Storyteller:
As Sam danced around various search engines, he had to comb through many 'off' results- an artist, the ebay site of some art pieces, even a memoir about an insignificant musician.

Yet after about six minutes of combing, he finally turned up two news paper articles. The first was buried on page six of a newspaper archive of a new alternative health practice in 2006, featuring Dr. Albert Prekovsky. There was no picture, only the mention that he'd be on a team of six other doctors.

The second was of a front page newspaper with two body bags lined up side by side. Two of the doctor's mentioned had been slain, highly suspected 'poisoning'. The doctor as sought for questioning.

Professor:

Samuel laughed curtly. "Yes, because the police are perfectly equipped to deal with everything out there. Respectfully human crime is hard enough to combat let alone anythin-" The Professor broke off, studying his screen intently. "Hello, this isn't the acts of a common doctor..."

Storyteller
The blond woman entered the room, crossing over to pick up the black medical bag from the table.

"We've wasted enough time as it is." She states curtly, making it sound suspiciously like 'you have'.
"The woman will get treatment and hopefully recover, but we need to get to the others she mentioned. Try to prevent any more murders tonight."

Dave Ellis:
"'Let alone anything' what? What the fuck are you talking about? This is human crime. A human got shot. We didn't see who pulled the trigger but I didn't see anything that suggested it was a fucking werewolf or a witch or whatever. I don't know about you but I have a day job. If the cops can deal with this them let 'em deal with it."


Professor:
"And if it turns out to be something more, and innocent lives are lost as a result of your inaction can you live with that decision Mr..." Samuel paused, realising he had not until now asked the man's name or given his own. "I do apologize, I appear to have forgotten to introduce myself in all this happenstance. My name is Professor Samuel Stevens."


Storyteller:
"If we get there and we just find a sociopath with a gun, then yes, we call the police." The Doctor agreed.

"A pleasure,Professor. Your help earlier tonight was invaluable. I am Doctor Christina Hollandale."
Her voice acquired a sharp tone as she continued.
"But you haven't discovered any thing about the rumors we've been hearing over the past week. You saw someone get shot and you took off and left every one else. It's a blessing that the woman is going to recover, but what about every one else?"

Bag in hand, the doctor was already headed out the front door.

"The police are woefully understaffed and ill prepared for anything other than a man with a gun. I'd like to at least be certain that's what it is before we sign the death certificates of people sworn to protect us. Coming?"

Professor:
"Certainly Doctor." Samuel closed down his laptop, taking care to bookmark the articles first for later reference before returning the machine to his padded backpack it had come from. Slinging it onto his back, he headed out of the door after Christina.


Dave Ellis:
"I sleep just fine knowing that it's on the sick assholes who dragged their kids to the Jonestown barn and not me. I signed up to keep my own neighbourhood in check. Not to sit around listening to this 'holier-than-thou' horseshit."

Dave grabs his holdall and his gun and follows them out, wearing a grim look on his face.

As you return to the Farm, you note that the cattle guard you'd used to rescue Desi remains where you left it. A few moments pause reveals that the shooter who had shot Desi and had menanced you before has not resumed his murderous tactics. Has he moved on in your absence?

You approach the farm compound, the dirt road leading into a gravel-flled lot with a handful of old cars and pickup trucks—all the tires are slashed, and the hoods are open with cut wires dangling out. All around you, the farm buildings—a massive old barn, a leaning grain silo, the chicken coop—stand in silent, shadowy judgment.

At the far end sits an old two-story stone Colonial farmhouse, tangles of ivy and bleak wisteria choking it. All around you lies detritus of a discarded existence: a corroded snow plow sits off to one side, a pile of tires off to the other. A handful of gutted metal barrels here,
a blue tarp fapping in the wind there. Where is everybody?

[The Lay out of the farm: https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg ]

Professor:
Samuel had abandoned his motorbike halfway down the dirt path long with the vehicles the others had used to get here, as diriving right up engines roaring was not exactly an aid to stealth.

Doctor Hollandale:
The Doctor had caught a ride on Doc's truck and now she walked up beside the Profesor. Her pale white hands clutch her medical bag, the knuckles of her hands are white.

She gives a nervous, bird like look before turning from side to side, checking out the buildings.


Professor:

"Anyone got a good plan?" Samuel whispered, one hand on the handle of his cane-sword.

Doctor Hollandale:

"We need to see if any one needs our help." Doctor Hollandale whispered. "Where should we begin? The red barn?"


"Red barn sounds good to me." Samuel agreed, casting a glance at Doc and Victor to get their opinions.

Doc eyed the place wearily, it was all too suited to the sniper, between the high silo and the multitude of nocks and crannies one could hide almost anywhere. He still wasn't completely sure why they were bringing the brain squad along, specially not the one with the cane. "git in, git out and don't get killed." he hisses flat and quiet.


Storyteller:
Do you feel eyes watching you? Any time you turn to see, the eyes are gone in a flash. For a moment, the clouds clear from in front of the moon and then you see a limp arm draped out of a barn door, still and lifeless. In the distance, beyond the silo and at the edge of the pasture you think you see a body, pale and unmoving, lying next to some tomato cages.
And against the window of the chicken coop, you see a face—its cheek smashed up against the dirty glass, eyes frozen open, no breath condensing on the pane.
Somewhere, you hear someone sobbing. You feel like you’re being watched. And there’s a smell to the air, the smell of fertilizer and fresh death,the stink of blood and shit from voided bowels.


"Good lord..." Samuel's face blanched, noting the death and decay barely visible in the moonlight with stunned eyes.


"Oh God in Heaven." Doctor Hollandale whispers, hurrying towards the barn. She crouches beside the sprawled woman, but her lifeless eyes announce her departure before the Doctor even checks her pulse.

The woman gently closed the dead woman's eyes and turns, looking inside the barn.

"There's light." She sounds surprised. "I think I see someone alive!"

Victor, less agreeing and more following protocol, enters the barn, shotgun ready.

Doc knew that smell all too well, he'd smelled it too often. Didn't matter what it was, beast thing, corpse attack or just human hatred. we all died just the same.

"Deal with it or leave" he says to sam before following the others, keeping low as he moves, all to aware of the sniper from before.


Chris sticks near doctor Hollandale knowing he is not much in a fight but maybe he can be a sheild or help carry someone.

Storyteller:
A young woman lays against the musty milking machine, her head cocked to the side, a look of drunken peace on her face. Next to her, a man’s body—he’s round, soft, almost feminine, but his face shows no such peace, only a bullet hole in his forehead and a cloying mess of blood and brains on the hay-strewn foor behind him.
Across the way, in what might be some kind of kitchen, an older couple lays dead in a sweet embrace, slumped against one another. A Hispanic girl, maybe in her late teens, lays sprawled with a hole in her chest. An old man sits face forward against the cage in the back, his liver-spotted
fngers gripping the metal mesh in a rigor mortis grasp. The light fickers above, showing another fve corpses concealed in the shadowy corners of the barn. Some went peacefully. Some did not. The smell here is of fresh blood and feces. This happened very recently.

There's a woman with her back turned towards you, crouched besides a body. She's touching the Hispanic teen's neck. She is the only thing here that is alive save for you.


Professor:
Samuel narrowed his eyes at Doc's back took up the rear, not quite grasping why the man had such a problem with him, but not particularly interested in finding out at the moment. Duty came first.


Professor:
Samuel quickly set about investigating the deceased to see if any information could be gleamed from the dead and how they had died; anything unusual that might point towards supernatural rather than the work of man.
Doc:
Doc considers the scene, could be one of the living, could be one of the dead. even if she were living didn't mean she was friendly. At the same time making their presence readily known would only hurt them. He watches carefully, his eyes darting the room looking for a weapon, trying not to dwell too long on the dead. Better if they had no faces to scream in his nightmares.
Victor:
Victor cautiously watches the woman. Content to let the others deal with the dead. Shotgun shouldered, he watches and waits.


Management:

Professor has rolled an Checking out the bodies roll (7 dice), getting 10, 6, 6, 4, 9, 7, 6, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.

Storyteller:
(Whisper to Professor) You have time to examine two bodies. It is clear that the first body fell from poisoning- there's a paleness to the gums that suggests this, not to mention a sniff near the mouth reveals the vile act. Let as you turn to the second body, you note something odd. The gums are pink- indeed, there's a flash of blood to the gums. As though they bit their lip... Acting on a hunch, you check her finger nails. There's blood under them.

The first was suicide, but this one was smothered.
Storyteller:
The woman moves away from the teen, pausing beside a sprawled matronly woman. She crouches and touches the woman's neck and shakes her head. She stands and moves on to the next body.


Doc moved slowly around the outside of the barn, picking up a decent length of pipe or post if he could find one, wishing he'd thought to bring one from his truck.

He moves trying to keep to the shadows but get as good a look at the woman's face.
Professor:
"One smothered and one suicide by poison... It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that one killed the other before taking their own life..." Samuel surmised.
Storyteller:
As he moves around the barn... where the woman looks surprised to see Professor and the others. She can't immediately see Doc in the shadows.

"Who are you?"

Victor:
"Concerned citizens. Who are you? What happened here?"


Storyteller:
Dr. Hollandale frowns as she, too, checks the gums of the smothered woman.
"You're absolute correct." She affirms, walking along the bodies with concern.

"How are you still alive?"
She questions the woman.


Doc:
He doesn't move for the moment, letting the other's speak. An ace in the hole is always a useful commodity and its all to rare for them to get the element of surprise for long.
Storyteller:
The woman steps towards you, wringing her hands.
"Oh, thank the Lord! I was starting to think I was... that I was the only one left. I should'a been here- you see, I couldn't find my Bible, so i 'twas late for the meetin'.
But I show'd up- and-"

She gestured to the bodies, clapsing her hands to her face. She's blonde, with short, unruly hair. She has a bible in one hand. She wears a simple button up shirt and a modest skirt. Fat tears roll down her generous cheeks.


Chris walks next to Dr hollandale, feeling usless and wondering if there is going to be a computer or data system hideen away some where so he can prove he is not completly useless.


Storyteller:
The Barn is a typical barn, devoid of modern appliances. There are no outlets to see, besides an old bench that probably has one for power tools, like the 3/8 drill that rests there.

Dave Ellis:
Dave hitches his holdall about his shoulder, hitching the holdall up, so that it doesn't get in the way of his gun arm. He regards the woman quizzically.

"You wanted to die on time? That it?"


Management:
Professor has rolled an Sense Lady's Motive roll (6 dice), getting 9, 4, 9, 8, 10, 1, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 4 successes.

Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Marsha roll (6 dice), getting 8, 6, 9, 8, 7, 6, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 3 successes.


Doc:
bible study real cute, all sorts of things could be found in there, let alone if it wasn't the real 'good book', the end of the world was simply the most striking. Wouldn't be the first to notice some unmistakable emblem of the coming of the end times, there was always something.

And the woman wouldn't be the first to find the actual appearance of death a whole less appetizing than the promises of milk, honey and what ever made it seem.
Storyteller:
As the Professor notes the woman's demeanor, he and only he notes that she sounds genuinely affected. However- her eyes are simply not selling it. She looks as though she's studying Dave, sizing him up. The tears? Sure, they look real. But he bet she licked her fingers and traced them down or poked herself in the eye.

The woman's not as emotional as she ought to be.
Chris:
ummm could that dril have made the whole? we might be able to get fingerprints
Storyteller:
(is Chris speaking that?)


Management:
Victor has rolled an empathy (lies) roll (6 dice), getting 4, 6, 1, 6, 1, 6, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has failed the roll.


Doc:
"What passage, sister?" he asks flattly, his tone low and not quite threatening, not yet anyway.

Storyteller:
"Are you a follower?" She asks Doc, her eyes lighting to him. "Tonight, we speak of the Outer Darkness. In the parable of the marriage feast in Matthew 22:13, Jesus tells the story of one who came to a marriage feast but was not dressed properly, so the King had him thrown into the outer darkness where there was weeping and gnashing of teeth."


Professor:
Samuel held his cane with both hands, subtly twisting the handle and loosening the weapon that lay hidden within as he eyed the woman. Walking up to Doc he lowered his voice. "She's hiding something... putting on a false emotional state..." Smiling he patted Doc on the shoulder in a friendly unconcerned manner, turning towards Chris. "I can take care of the forensics if you have no objections."


Chris nods "None.. I am more a computer an network forinsics person."

Management:
Storyteller has rolled an marsha trying to convince roll (4 dice), getting 10, 8, 4, 9, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 3 successes.

**************
================
+++++++++++++++++++
___________________


Storyteller:
[Chris and Victor find her sorrow very compelling]

Management:
Professor has rolled an Drill and Fingerprints meet Forensics roll (7 dice), getting 2, 10, 6, 6, 9, 5, 6, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.
Management:
Victor has rolled an empathy (lies) roll (6 dice), getting 3, 3, 10, 10, 7, 2, 6, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 2 successes.
Dave Ellis:
Dave glances over at the whispering, looking impatient and less than sympathetic towards Marsha.
Storyteller:
The Professor notes that the drill is old and in terrible shape. In fact when he plugs it in, it makes no noise at all. Its battery appears to have been left off charge for too long.
Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled an See through lie roll (4 dice), getting 6, 8, 4, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 1 success.
Victor:
Victor, realizing that no one is keeping watch, decides to leave the "interrogation" to Dave. He heads to the door and peers outside taking in the surroundings. As he does he greets Marsha, "Hello."
Storyteller:
As Victor studies the woman, he notes that when she lowers her head, her hair falls into her face. Almost as though she's trying to avoid looking at you.

Her eyes are nearly hidden, but you can see the wet tracks you thought were tears have already dried.
Dave decides that she sounds desperate and saddened, but... there's something wrong. Something about her eyes.


Doc:
He accepts the prof's words for now "there are some paassages I follow, like Exodus 22:18"

Storyteller:
[Victor, feel free to try a perception roll]
Victor:
As he passes the group, he whispers to Dr. Hallindale and Chris, "Watch her."
Professor:
"Marsha, can you tell us anything more about John and Jane here?" Samuel asked, lasping back into the terms used by himself and his old colleagues for the deceased.

Chris:
*watches her as directed*
Dave Ellis:
"13:19 for me" Dave mutters moving closer to the woman.
Storyteller:
"Oh?" The woman frowns, looking at Doc closely. "I... don't follow you. That doesn't really seem applicable here. Why would you bring such ugliness here? "
Her voice raises.

"It's such a terrible thing to put a mind to, that we'd abide by anything like that. Even the dozy cow in the silo knows better than to truck with those sort."

She turns to the Professor, agitated.
"That's Rebecca, Henry's Ma. She look like she's gone off to Paradise real peaceful like... but poor Mr. Roe. I don't know what befell him."


Management:
09/17/2009 3:17 pm Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 7, 2, 3, 10, 3, 6, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.

Professor:
"I have my suspicions madam, but speculation is a poor substitute for scientific proof." Samuel responded, pulling a pencil and small notepad from an inside pocket and jotting down what information he'd learned so far.
Doc:
He returns her gaze with his own flat determined gaze, focusing on her nose though he'd heard of too many things to give her a free ticket to his brain. "Depends, depends on many things. right now we're deep in psalm 23:4 and I'm still not sure where the wolves end and the sheep begin."
Storyteller:
As Victor looks outside, he gets the distinct feeling that he's being watched. It makes his skin crawl that he can't seem to get a fix on what it could be. As he turns his head, he sees a flash of movement by the hay bales. As he watches, he notices that its streaking towards the Barn.

It looks like a black mastiff. A shadowy, dangerous looking mastiff hell bent at reaching where you stand.

Storyteller:
"You seem to be confused," The woman decides. "- very confused. If only Potter were here, you'd see its not like that at all. This is a refuge, a safe haven from the black and the deadly horrors of the night."


Professor:
"As long as they're not lying down with the lion." Samuel muttered, replacing the notepad in his pocket and looking around for something else that might be worth examining.


Victor:
Victor calls to the others, "We have company. Looks like a dog, a big dog."
Victor:
He examines his surroundings quick looking for some way to disable the dog without using his weapon. He does not want to give away their position.
Chris:
*Looks around for things that can be used against a dog*
Dave Ellis:
Dave adjusts his grip on his weapon without taking his eyes away from the woman.

"What breed of dog?"
Storyteller:
[Where do you search, Victor and Chris?]
Victor:
"Mastiff, I think."


Dave digs into his holdall, pulling out a hatchet and tossing it to the ground near Chris' feet.

Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:26 pm [There's nothing much outside besides blowing tarp and vehicles that look to be in various states of disrepair, Victor. Chris sees the cage area- where the body of the old man sits- that looks like the darkness might hide some promising things.]


Professor:
"Speak of the wolves and one appears." Samuel stated, keeping an eye on Marsha and one on the entrance to the barn as he changed his grip on his cane sword, keeping the wooden outer layer touching the floor so that he could quickly draw if it was needed.



Storyteller:
"You are confused." Marsha shakes her head. "There are no dogs here. You really aren't the sort of folks welcome here. I hope you find the path to righteousness."

She steps away from you, heading towards the barn door, towards the racing Mastiff.


Doc:
He looks up "anyone carrying any silver?" he asks looking over the group, taking his attention momentarily off the woman.

Dave Ellis:
"Shut up lady- hey!" Dave races after the woman, shotgun gripped in white-knuckled hands.
Professor:
"I'd advise against that madam." Samuel stated, moving and placing the cane-sword's blade in the way of Marsha's path to the entrance.
Victor:
Victor levels his shotty and takes aim at the dog.
Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled an Stamina+Athletics (+Speed 13) roll (5 dice), getting 1, 3, 2, 7, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has failed the roll.
Storyteller:
That's all Doc gets out.
As Dave pursues the woman, he recoils with alarm. The woman's hand is - gone. Simply gone. Blood spurts from the end, raining down onto the dirt floor.

She screams, a horrible sound to hear.
"My hand!"

The Beast dodges away, slinking into the night.


Chris decides to continue to watch the girl instead of going and searching for a weapon ... after all last time he took his eyes off somone here they ran off with a kid*


Doc:
"Anyone carrying silver?" he asks flattly looking around the room. then curses lightly, all he had was that coin. looking back to the woman he narrows his eyes "You really need to read around your subject more." he says with a shake of his head.



Chris:
*Chris answeres* no silver here
Victor:
"Nope. What happened to her?"

Professor:
"Doctor, we need your expertise." Samuel uttered, estimating that Marsha wouldn't last long if she continued losing blood at that rate.
Dave Ellis:
Dave wrenches the woman's good arm, dragging her back into the barn. But not before hissing at the Professor.

"What the fuck are you? A 19th century riverboat gambler or something? Now somebody's gonna hafta tie her wrist up. That or hurry up the questioning."
Professor:
"I can assure you her absent limb is not my doing." Samuel said pointedly, his unbloodied blade a testament to that fact.
Storyteller:
Chris ignores the hatchet that Dave throws at his feet, watching the horrible mauling that occurs to Marsha.

"Ohh!" she moans, sinking to the ground. "Its.. Its terrible. Lord, Lord Almighty, I prevale to you..."

Fresh blood adds to the already horrid stench of the barn. Nobody seems concerned with the missing woman's hand or the beast that bit it off.

Doctor Hollandale moves to follow Dave's attempt at holding the woman. The woman savagely strikes Dave across the face. Hollandale touches the wounded cheek, the blow was hard enough that it reddens already.

Suddenly, something darts into the barn, pausing at the sight of you. Your flashlight finds purchase on a young Caucasin boy, his blond hair dishievelled.The look in the child's eyes is panic, sheer panic. You are reminded of horses rearing from thier handlers, thier eyes rolling back in thier head from sheer terror.

In an instant, he's running again, hurtling away from you as fast as his legs can take him. He stumbles and falls to the ground, skinning both knees. This seems to frighten him further as he claws along the ground before standing and pitching himself into the shadowed, yawning dark abyss of the shadowy recesses of the barn.

Doc:
He curses, that was bad, magic bad. "someone had to summon that thing, ain't no way thats normal." he says moveing quickly to the electric drill and working quickly to remove the flex. far from the best thing but they didn't have a lot of options for the creations of tournique's without which the woman would die.
Professor:
"It's alright, we won't hurt you." The Professor attempted to calm the boy, not particularly expecting to succeed but not exactly willing to forgo trying.
Storyteller:
The boy doesn't answer, recoiling at the bloodied man at the cage. He instead heaves himself at the rafters above.

"He's coming!" He hisses. "Hide!"


Management:Professor has rolled an Sense Motive roll (5 dice), getting 6, 3, 1, 9, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 1 success.
Chris:
*Reaches down to get the hatchet as he watches the women, doing his best not to look threateing as he retreaves it*
Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled an Retain Composure roll (2 dice), getting 6, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 1 success.
Storyteller:
The Professor notes that the man is terrified of whoever he refers to.
Chris picks up the hatchet and stares at the bloodied, mauled woman, who continues to screech and slap any one with her good head who approaches her.


Victor:
Victor posts up. scanning the night for the 'dog.'
Management:
Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 9, 5, 2, 1, 5, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.
Storyteller:
Victor doesn't see a dog. Where before there was darkness, he now sees a light over by the hen house.

A small child runs out of the hen house, screeching in fear. As you react to this, a whip then man pursues the child and grabs her roughly up, hauling her back towards the hen house.
Professor:
Samuel kept his cane-sword ready, expecting trouble to come through the barn entrance at any second.
*****************
====================
_________________________

Dave Ellis:
Dave bristles as his cheek is struck. He almost loses it. He wraps a hand around her throat, within an inch of crushing her windpipe.

"Lady, you hit me again and I'm gonna hit you so hard you'll be shitting teeth."

Doc pushed forward tossing the flex to docter holandale before moving into try and catch the woman's good arm and pin it down with his greater weight. "You ain't following them yet." He hisses at her.


Doc:
He returns her gaze with his own flat determined gaze, focusing on her nose though he'd heard of too many things to give her a free ticket to his brain. "Depends, depends on many things. right now we're deep in psalm 23:4 and I'm still not sure where the wolves end and the sheep begin."
Storyteller:
As Victor looks outside, he gets the distinct feeling that he's being watched. It makes his skin crawl that he can't seem to get a fix on what it could be. As he turns his head, he sees a flash of movement by the hay bales. As he watches, he notices that its streaking towards the Barn.

It looks like a black mastiff. A shadowy, dangerous looking mastiff hell bent at reaching where you stand.
Storyteller:
"You seem to be confused," The woman decides. "- very confused. If only Potter were here, you'd see its not like that at all. This is a refuge, a safe haven from the black and the deadly horrors of the night."
Professor:
"As long as they're not lying down with the lion." Samuel muttered, replacing the notepad in his pocket and looking around for something else that might be worth examining.

Victor calls to the others, "We have company. Looks like a dog, a big dog."

He examines his surroundings quick looking for some way to disable the dog without using his weapon. He does not want to give away their position.
Chris:
*Looks around for things that can be used against a dog*
Dave Ellis:
Dave adjusts his grip on his weapon without taking his eyes away from the woman.

"What breed of dog?"

Victor:
"Mastiff, I think."

Dave Ellis:
Dave digs into his holdall, pulling out a hatchet and tossing it to the ground near Chris' feet.
Storyteller:
There's nothing much outside besides blowing tarp and vehicles that look to be in various states of disrepair, Victor. Chris sees the cage area- where the body of the old man sits- that looks like the darkness might hide some promising things.
Professor:
"Speak of the wolves and one appears." Samuel stated, keeping an eye on Marsha and one on the entrance to the barn as he changed his grip on his cane sword, keeping the wooden outer layer touching the floor so that he could quickly draw if it was needed.
Storyteller:
"You are confused." Marsha shakes her head. "There are no dogs here. You really aren't the sort of folks welcome here. I hope you find the path to righteousness."

She steps away from you, heading towards the barn door, towards the racing Mastiff.
Doc:
He looks up "anyone carrying any silver?" he asks looking over the group, taking his attention momentarily off the woman.
Dave Ellis:
"Shut up lady- hey!" Dave races after the woman, shotgun gripped in white-knuckled hands.
Professor:
"I'd advise against that madam." Samuel stated, moving and placing the cane-sword's blade in the way of Marsha's path to the entrance.
Victor:
Victor levels his shotty and takes aim at the dog.
Management:
09/17/2009 3:29 pm Dave Ellis has rolled an Stamina+Athletics (+Speed 13) roll (5 dice), getting 1, 3, 2, 7, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has failed the roll.
Storyteller:
That's all Doc gets out.
As Dave pursues the woman, he recoils with alarm. The woman's hand is - gone. Simply gone. Blood spurts from the end, raining down onto the dirt floor.

She screams, a horrible sound to hear.
"My hand!"

The Beast dodges away, slinking into the night.
Chris:
*decides to continue to watch the girl instead of going and searching for a weapon ... after all last time he took his eyes off somone here they ran off with a kid*

Doc:
"Anyone carrying silver?" he asks flattly looking around the room. then curses lightly, all he had was that coin. looking back to the woman he narrows his eyes "You really need to read around your subject more." he says with a shake of his head.
Chris:
*Chris answeres* no silver here
Victor:
"Nope. What happened to her?"
Doc:

Professor:
"Doctor, we need your expertise." Samuel uttered, estimating that Marsha wouldn't last long if she continued losing blood at that rate.
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 3:35 pm Dave wrenches the woman's good arm, dragging her back into the barn. But not before hissing at the Professor.

"What the fuck are you? A 19th century riverboat gambler or something? Now somebody's gonna hafta tie her wrist up. That or hurry up the questioning."
Professor:
09/17/2009 3:36 pm "I can assure you her absent limb is not my doing." Samuel said pointedly, his unbloodied blade a testament to that fact.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:37 pm Chris ignores the hatchet that Dave throws at his feet, watching the horrible mauling that occurs to Marsha.

"Ohh!" she moans, sinking to the ground. "Its.. Its terrible. Lord, Lord Almighty, I prevale to you..."

Fresh blood adds to the already horrid stench of the barn. Nobody seems concerned with the missing woman's hand or the beast that bit it off.

Doctor Hollandale moves to follow Dave's attempt at holding the woman. The woman savagely strikes Dave across the face. Hollandale touches the wounded cheek, the blow was hard enough that it reddens already.

Suddenly, something darts into the barn, pausing at the sight of you. Your flashlight finds purchase on a young Caucasin boy, his blond hair dishievelled.The look in the child's eyes is panic, sheer panic. You are reminded of horses rearing from thier handlers, thier eyes rolling back in thier head from sheer terror.

In an instant, he's running again, hurtling away from you as fast as his legs can take him. He stumbles and falls to the ground, skinning both knees. This seems to frighten him further as he claws along the ground before standing and pitching himself into the shadowed, yawning dark abyss of the shadowy recesses of the barn.
Doc:
09/17/2009 3:38 pm He curses, that was bad, magic bad. "someone had to summon that thing, ain't no way thats normal." he says moveing quickly to the electric drill and working quickly to remove the flex. far from the best thing but they didn't have a lot of options for the creations of tournique's without which the woman would die.
Professor:
09/17/2009 3:38 pm "It's alright, we won't hurt you." The Professor attempted to calm the boy, not particularly expecting to succeed but not exactly willing to forgo trying.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:39 pm The boy doesn't answer, recoiling at the bloodied man at the cage. He instead heaves himself at the rafters above.

"He's coming!" He hisses. "Hide!"
Management:
09/17/2009 3:40 pm Professor has rolled an Sense Motive roll (5 dice), getting 6, 3, 1, 9, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 1 success.
Chris:
09/17/2009 3:40 pm *Reaches down to get the hatchet as he watches the women, doing his best not to look threateing as he retreaves it*
Management:
09/17/2009 3:41 pm Dave Ellis has rolled an Retain Composure roll (2 dice), getting 6, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 1 success.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:41 pm The Professor notes that the man is terrified of whoever he refers to.
Chris picks up the hatchet and stares at the bloodied, mauled woman, who continues to screech and slap any one with her good head who approaches her.
Victor:
09/17/2009 3:41 pm Victor posts up. scanning the night for the 'dog.'
Management:
09/17/2009 3:43 pm Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 9, 5, 2, 1, 5, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:43 pm Victor doesn't see a dog. Where before there was darkness, he now sees a light over by the hen house.

A small child runs out of the hen house, screeching in fear. As you react to this, a whip then man pursues the child and grabs her roughly up, hauling her back towards the hen house.
Professor:
09/17/2009 3:43 pm Samuel kept his cane-sword ready, expecting trouble to come through the barn entrance at any second.
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 3:44 pm Dave bristles as his cheek is struck. He almost loses it. He wraps a hand around her throat, within an inch of crushing her windpipe.

"Lady, you hit me again and I'm gonna hit you so hard you'll be shitting teeth."
Doc pushed forward tossing the flex to docter holandale before moving into try and catch the woman's good arm and pin it down with his greater weight. "You ain't following them yet." He hisses at her.
Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled an Brawl (If required for restraint) roll (7 dice), getting 9, 9, 4, 5, 2, 10, 8, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 4 successes.
Victor:
"There's another child. She's just been grabbed and pulled back to the hen house."
Chris:
"I'll go after the kid"
Professor:
"Need a hand?" Samuel hissed to Chris, not seeing much he could help with here.
Storyteller:
"Get off me!" She screeches. "You are instruments of the Devil! See how your presence displeases the Lord!"

She attempts to strike at Dave, Doc and Holandale.
"Hold her steady." The doctor requested as she uses the flex to maintain a quick tourniquet.
"She's going to need a shot that I don't have. Hold still, here-"

Doctor Hollandale pulls out a syringe and injects the woman.
The woman hisses, then her body slowly begins to slacken.

Chris:
"definelty... I am not much for combat" Chris answeres Samuel "Lets go"
*Heads for the hen house*
Professor:
Samuel followed Chris carefully and quietly as not to attract undue attention.
Victor:
Seeing Chis and Samuel streak by Victor moves out from barn enough to be able to cover both groups.

Doc whirled at the call, too many needed helping, he held onto she starts to slacken before letting go. "careful charging out there, we don't know how many of those things there are, how strong they are or where that rifleman is." he says cursing once he sees he's talking to air "damned greenhorns." he mutters.

Chris:
*whispers to samuel as they move* I will rush around with luck anyone there will move to jump me and you can get them from behind

Professor:
Samuel nodded in confirmation, cane-sword at the ready.

Storyteller:
As Chris and Samuel depart the barn, they discover that the night is still, but it is not silent. The sounds of weeping are pervasive- is the woman crying from over there, inside the red barn? Yet as you turn to look, there is another sob- this time deeper, more masculine- from the line of hay bales.

What became of the young Hispanic man you saw running earlier between the hay bales? Now the hay bales are still as the grave.

Desi's words echo in your mind- the horrible depression of the willing dead, the suicide pact hastened by the poisoned brew. The haunting images of a father gunned down before his daughter, of said daughter fleeing the surely hideous, twisted man referred to as 'Potter'.

Where might that little girl be now? What of Henry, the nine year old boy that Desi couldn't locate in the dark? Could that be the child you are leaving in the barn?

The two men head towards the hen house, Victor attempting to watch both groups.

Chris:
09/17/2009 3:51 pm *thinks to himself... Next time I am arguing about us all coming.. I would be alot more usfull hacking a goverment or univeristy satelight system and geting arieal survailance*


Dave Ellis:
With the woman sedated, Dave peers over at the henhouse.


Storyteller:
"Should we leave her alone?" The Doctor wondered. "What if that dog comes back?"

She gently lays the woman down and walks next to Dave and Victor, studying the hen house and the two men running for it.
Professor:
Samuel hesitated slightly as sounds of weeping came from the nearby hay bales, getting Chris' attention with his free hand and gesturing towards them and the hen house, silently asking if he wanted to check them out or carry on with the original plan.


Chris:
*shrugs indicating samuels call but out loud says* hmm I whonder where the that child was hauled to *trying to samuel indicate chris' priority is youngest to oldest*
Dave Ellis:
"Shouldn't we have a radio or something? We're in the middle of this clusterfuck and I can't raise any of those assholes on so much as a cellphone. What'd they see?"
Storyteller:
[https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg]


Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:56 pm [https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg]
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 3:57 pm [That image isn't working for me]
Chris:
09/17/2009 3:57 pm [ delet the ] from the end]
Professor:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [out loud? We're at night, sneaking about to avoid being murdered by unknown horrors and you talk OUT LOUD?]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [ https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [do you two enter the hen house?]
Chris:
09/17/2009 3:59 pm [ooc:L yes out loud, chris is seting himself up as bait for somone or something to attack ]
Professor:
The Professor looked between the bales and the henhouse, making his decision and gestured for Chris to follow him quietly around one side of the bales... there was too much of a risk whoever was behind could ambush them as they attempted to raid the henhouse.
Chris:
*Trys to look under the hen house if posible to see if somone is standing behind it with the kid befor entering the hen house unless samuel indicates another priority*
Victor:
Someone should get the boy in the barn."
Chris:
*Chris follows the professors guidance*
Storyteller:
There is nobody underneath the hen house.

As the two investigate the hay bales, they discover a young woman. Her eyes are sightless, her chest a raw, gaping wound. A shot gun blast has killed her, the blood indicating that she bled out.
Doc:
Doc shakes his head "you, stay here with the docter, this place'll make as good a triage center as any other. look after her and the boy." he motions to martha then up to the rafters as he moves towards the door of the barn.

*chris thinks to himself.. also next time he is insisting on actual mission planing .. at least on the drive to the location I .. this get in get out don't get killed may sound good in the movies but it did not prepare him to actually do anything here*



Professor:
09/17/2009 4:03 pm The Professor quickly examined the corpse for anything useful, ID, loose possessions, anything conclusive.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:04 pm Professor has rolled an Corpse Investigation roll (5 dice), getting 8, 10, 6, 1, 2, 10, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 4 successes.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor makes another check of the surroundings. Before going back the barn to find the boy.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm The Professor discovers that the woman was wearing a gingham dress. A golden cross hangs about her neck. Her body is listed to its side, as though someone had turned her over.

A man's shirt is pressed to her wound, a make shift bandage that was far too little for a wound far too grave.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 2, 6, 9, 2, 3, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.


Professor:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Frowning, the Professor gestured towards the hen house, this little diversion clearly not serving any current purpose.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Victor discovers the boy huddled in the corner of the barn. this section has three sleeping bags laid out and several boxes. A lantern rests on a box, turned off.
Several books are beside the sleeping bag, including a diary. This appears to be someone's sleeping quarters.


Chris:
*follows the professors directions*
Dave Ellis:
Dave tosses the medical supplies in his holdall to the floor of the barn before making his way to the henhouse.



Victor:
Victor quickly gathers up the books into his rucksack. Then he proceeds to find the way to the rafters.
Professor:
Samuel nodded to the man as Dave approached, following after Chris but keeping his distance so that Chris could attempt to spring his distraction.
Storyteller:
The hen house is 30 yards long, 5 yards wide. The smell of chicken shit barely overwhelms a potent medicinal stink. Chicken wire lies strewn about. In the front, dead hens lie headless in roosts and nests; some of their legs still twitch. In the back half of the hen house there’s a twin bed made with hospital corners and several pieces of unfinished pine furniture (a dresser, a night-stand and a spotless mirror with plain frame). On the other side waits a tool bench: strange medical tools dangle from pegboard hooks, and various jugs and vials of odd liquids and powders sit amidst a perfect line of empty syringes.


More bodies. These are piled neatly up just outside the lair, almost how one might stack wood for the winter. Frozen mouths and distended cheeks touching more of the same; dead flesh pressed against dead fl esh. Several flystrips dangle above the stack of bodies: flies orbit, then get trapped on the tacky paper. Someone was very prepared.

As you process this disgusting scene, you hear a child's shrieks. In the corner of the hen house, you see a man pinning down a little girl of about eight. She is brunnette, with pig tails and looks to be about eight. The man is tall, whip then and wearing a nice suit. The man holds a syringe aloft in his hand, attempting to secure the little girl in his grasp.

Storyteller:
Victor discovers that the boy had shoved a box near to a lowered plank, where a simple jump leads him up to where the boy clings to the rafters.

"Shh." The boy hastens. "The doctors down there. And... there are things. In the dark. Bad things."
Chris:
*charges the man swinging wide so when the man focuses on him the man will not see the others entering*
Storyteller:
[roll with a - 1]

Doc:
"greenhorn, where do you think your going?". he asks Dave as he makes to leave.
Professor:
Samuel gives Chris to the count of ten after seeing him rush in before gesturing to Dave and following suit, cane-sword at the ready.

Management:
Chris has rolled 1 dice, getting 6, with a difficulty of 10 on a 10 sided die. Chris has failed the roll. This was a chance die.
Storyteller:
The man whirls at seeing Chris's rush. With a grimace, he lunges forward and ducks beneath Chris. A quick jab of his hand and the needle jabs deep into Chris's shoulder.

Chris:
09/17/2009 3:56 pm *shrugs indicating samuels call but out loud says* hmm I whonder where the that child was hauled to *trying to samuel indicate chris' priority is youngest to oldest*
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 3:56 pm "Shouldn't we have a radio or something? We're in the middle of this clusterfuck and I can't raise any of those assholes on so much as a cellphone. What'd they see?"
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:56 pm [https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg]
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 3:57 pm [That image isn't working for me]
Chris:
09/17/2009 3:57 pm [ delet the ] from the end]
Professor:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [out loud? We're at night, sneaking about to avoid being murdered by unknown horrors and you talk OUT LOUD?]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [ https://2img.net/h/i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/fanaticofyou/Hunter%20the%20Vigil/BlackMoonFarm.jpg
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 3:58 pm [do you two enter the hen house?]
Chris:
09/17/2009 3:59 pm [ooc:L yes out loud, chris is seting himself up as bait for somone or something to attack ]
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm The Professor looked between the bales and the henhouse, making his decision and gestured for Chris to follow him quietly around one side of the bales... there was too much of a risk whoever was behind could ambush them as they attempted to raid the henhouse.
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm *Trys to look under the hen house if posible to see if somone is standing behind it with the kid befor entering the hen house unless samuel indicates another priority*
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm Someone should get the boy in the barn."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:01 pm ((correction)) *Chris follows the professors guidance*
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:01 pm There is nobody underneath the hen house.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm As the two investigate the hay bales, they discover a young woman. Her eyes are sightless, her chest a raw, gaping wound. A shot gun blast has killed her, the blood indicating that she bled out.
Doc:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm Doc shakes his head "you, stay here with the docter, this place'll make as good a triage center as any other. look after her and the boy." he motions to martha then up to the rafters as he moves towards the door of the barn.
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm *chris thinks to himself.. also next time he is insisting on actual mission planing .. at least on the drive to the location I .. this get in get out don't get killed may sound good in the movies but it did not prepare him to actually do anything here*
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:03 pm The Professor quickly examined the corpse for anything useful, ID, loose possessions, anything conclusive.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:04 pm Professor has rolled an Corpse Investigation roll (5 dice), getting 8, 10, 6, 1, 2, 10, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 4 successes.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor makes another check of the surroundings. Before going back the barn to find the boy.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm The Professor discovers that the woman was wearing a gingham dress. A golden cross hangs about her neck. Her body is listed to its side, as though someone had turned her over.

A man's shirt is pressed to her wound, a make shift bandage that was far too little for a wound far too grave.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 2, 6, 9, 2, 3, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Frowning, the Professor gestured towards the hen house, this little diversion clearly not serving any current purpose.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Victor discovers the boy huddled in the corner of the barn. this section has three sleeping bags laid out and several boxes. A lantern rests on a box, turned off.
Several books are beside the sleeping bag, including a diary. This appears to be someone's sleeping quarters.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm The boy is up in the rafters of the barn*
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm *follows the professors directions*
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm Dave tosses the medical supplies in his holdall to the floor of the barn before making his way to the henhouse.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm Victor quickly gathers up the books into his rucksack. Then he proceeds to find the way to the rafters.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm Samuel nodded to the man as Dave approached, following after Chris but keeping his distance so that Chris could attempt to spring his distraction.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm The hen house is 30 yards long, 5 yards wide. The smell of chicken shit barely overwhelms a potent medicinal stink. Chicken wire lies strewn about. In the front, dead hens lie headless in roosts and nests; some of their legs still twitch. In the back half of the hen house there’s a twin bed made with hospital corners and several pieces of unfinished pine furniture (a dresser, a night-stand and a spotless mirror with plain frame). On the other side waits a tool bench: strange medical tools dangle from pegboard hooks, and various jugs and vials of odd liquids and powders sit amidst a perfect line of empty syringes.


More bodies. These are piled neatly up just outside the lair, almost how one might stack wood for the winter. Frozen mouths and distended cheeks touching more of the same; dead flesh pressed against dead fl esh. Several flystrips dangle above the stack of bodies: flies orbit, then get trapped on the tacky paper. Someone was very prepared.

As you process this disgusting scene, you hear a child's shrieks. In the corner of the hen house, you see a man pinning down a little girl of about eight. She is brunnette, with pig tails and looks to be about eight. The man is tall, whip then and wearing a nice suit. The man holds a syringe aloft in his hand, attempting to secure the little girl in his grasp.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm Victor discovers that the boy had shoved a box near to a lowered plank, where a simple jump leads him up to where the boy clings to the rafters.

"Shh." The boy hastens. "The doctors down there. And... there are things. In the dark. Bad things."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm *charges the man swinging wide so when the man focuses on him the man will not see the others entering*
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm [roll with a - 1]
Doc:
09/17/2009 4:12 pm "greenhorn, where do you think your going?". he asks Dave as he makes to leave.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:12 pm Samuel gives Chris to the count of ten after seeing him rush in before gesturing to Dave and following suit, cane-sword at the ready.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm Chris has rolled 1 dice, getting 6, with a difficulty of 10 on a 10 sided die. Chris has failed the roll. This was a chance die.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm The man whirls at seeing Chris's rush. With a grimace, he lunges forward and ducks beneath Chris. A quick jab of his hand and the needle jabs deep into Chris's shoulder.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm Storyteller has left the Territories
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:14 pm [ O.O Ohshi-...]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:14 pm [Take two lethal, Chris]
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:15 pm [[chuckles I warned you all chris was usless in combat got it 2 lethal]]
Management:
09/17/2009 4:16 pm Professor has rolled an Cane-Sword Slash!!! roll (2 dice), getting 4, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has failed the roll.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:18 pm The syringe handle is depressed, shooting its poison through Chris's veins. His blood pumps hard at the attack, unknowingly secreting the poison through out his body.

The man yells and shoves Chris backwards at the Professor. He grabs the girl by the wrist and begins to weave through the bodies, towards the back of the hen house. She screeches in fear, shouting for her father.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:18 pm Victor speaks evenly to the boy, "We need to get you out of here. Come on down."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:19 pm *screams from the damage the needle and contents do to him tring to take the syrings with him as his momentum carrys him into/past the man*
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 4:19 pm "Over there. You got enough on this here, so don't start with this greenhorn shit."
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [I'm going to need to go soon.]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm The man is away from Chris, hurling the girl away.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [last round, every one. Any reactions, go ahead]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [This will be posed to the forum tonight]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:21 pm (Whisper to Chris) [Chris will take 1 damage for every half hour that passes. Unless he gets medical help or an antidote]


Chris:
09/17/2009 3:59 pm [ooc:L yes out loud, chris is seting himself up as bait for somone or something to attack ]
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm The Professor looked between the bales and the henhouse, making his decision and gestured for Chris to follow him quietly around one side of the bales... there was too much of a risk whoever was behind could ambush them as they attempted to raid the henhouse.
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm *Trys to look under the hen house if posible to see if somone is standing behind it with the kid befor entering the hen house unless samuel indicates another priority*
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:00 pm Someone should get the boy in the barn."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:01 pm ((correction)) *Chris follows the professors guidance*
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:01 pm There is nobody underneath the hen house.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm As the two investigate the hay bales, they discover a young woman. Her eyes are sightless, her chest a raw, gaping wound. A shot gun blast has killed her, the blood indicating that she bled out.
Doc:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm Doc shakes his head "you, stay here with the docter, this place'll make as good a triage center as any other. look after her and the boy." he motions to martha then up to the rafters as he moves towards the door of the barn.
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:02 pm *chris thinks to himself.. also next time he is insisting on actual mission planing .. at least on the drive to the location I .. this get in get out don't get killed may sound good in the movies but it did not prepare him to actually do anything here*
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:03 pm The Professor quickly examined the corpse for anything useful, ID, loose possessions, anything conclusive.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:04 pm Professor has rolled an Corpse Investigation roll (5 dice), getting 8, 10, 6, 1, 2, 10, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 4 successes.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor makes another check of the surroundings. Before going back the barn to find the boy.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm The Professor discovers that the woman was wearing a gingham dress. A golden cross hangs about her neck. Her body is listed to its side, as though someone had turned her over.

A man's shirt is pressed to her wound, a make shift bandage that was far too little for a wound far too grave.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:05 pm Victor has rolled an perception roll (6 dice), getting 2, 6, 9, 2, 3, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Victor has 1 success.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Frowning, the Professor gestured towards the hen house, this little diversion clearly not serving any current purpose.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:06 pm Victor discovers the boy huddled in the corner of the barn. this section has three sleeping bags laid out and several boxes. A lantern rests on a box, turned off.
Several books are beside the sleeping bag, including a diary. This appears to be someone's sleeping quarters.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm The boy is up in the rafters of the barn*
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm *follows the professors directions*
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 4:07 pm Dave tosses the medical supplies in his holdall to the floor of the barn before making his way to the henhouse.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm Victor quickly gathers up the books into his rucksack. Then he proceeds to find the way to the rafters.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm Samuel nodded to the man as Dave approached, following after Chris but keeping his distance so that Chris could attempt to spring his distraction.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:09 pm The hen house is 30 yards long, 5 yards wide. The smell of chicken shit barely overwhelms a potent medicinal stink. Chicken wire lies strewn about. In the front, dead hens lie headless in roosts and nests; some of their legs still twitch. In the back half of the hen house there’s a twin bed made with hospital corners and several pieces of unfinished pine furniture (a dresser, a night-stand and a spotless mirror with plain frame). On the other side waits a tool bench: strange medical tools dangle from pegboard hooks, and various jugs and vials of odd liquids and powders sit amidst a perfect line of empty syringes.


More bodies. These are piled neatly up just outside the lair, almost how one might stack wood for the winter. Frozen mouths and distended cheeks touching more of the same; dead flesh pressed against dead fl esh. Several flystrips dangle above the stack of bodies: flies orbit, then get trapped on the tacky paper. Someone was very prepared.

As you process this disgusting scene, you hear a child's shrieks. In the corner of the hen house, you see a man pinning down a little girl of about eight. She is brunnette, with pig tails and looks to be about eight. The man is tall, whip then and wearing a nice suit. The man holds a syringe aloft in his hand, attempting to secure the little girl in his grasp.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm Victor discovers that the boy had shoved a box near to a lowered plank, where a simple jump leads him up to where the boy clings to the rafters.

"Shh." The boy hastens. "The doctors down there. And... there are things. In the dark. Bad things."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm *charges the man swinging wide so when the man focuses on him the man will not see the others entering*
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:11 pm [roll with a - 1]
Doc:
09/17/2009 4:12 pm "greenhorn, where do you think your going?". he asks Dave as he makes to leave.
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:12 pm Samuel gives Chris to the count of ten after seeing him rush in before gesturing to Dave and following suit, cane-sword at the ready.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm Chris has rolled 1 dice, getting 6, with a difficulty of 10 on a 10 sided die. Chris has failed the roll. This was a chance die.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm The man whirls at seeing Chris's rush. With a grimace, he lunges forward and ducks beneath Chris. A quick jab of his hand and the needle jabs deep into Chris's shoulder.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:13 pm Storyteller has left the Territories
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:14 pm [ O.O Ohshi-...]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:14 pm [Take two lethal, Chris]
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:15 pm [[chuckles I warned you all chris was usless in combat got it 2 lethal]]
Management:
09/17/2009 4:16 pm Professor has rolled an Cane-Sword Slash!!! roll (2 dice), getting 4, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has failed the roll.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:18 pm The syringe handle is depressed, shooting its poison through Chris's veins. His blood pumps hard at the attack, unknowingly secreting the poison through out his body.

The man yells and shoves Chris backwards at the Professor. He grabs the girl by the wrist and begins to weave through the bodies, towards the back of the hen house. She screeches in fear, shouting for her father.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:18 pm Victor speaks evenly to the boy, "We need to get you out of here. Come on down."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:19 pm *screams from the damage the needle and contents do to him tring to take the syrings with him as his momentum carrys him into/past the man*
Dave Ellis:
09/17/2009 4:19 pm "Over there. You got enough on this here, so don't start with this greenhorn shit."
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [I'm going to need to go soon.]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm The man is away from Chris, hurling the girl away.
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [last round, every one. Any reactions, go ahead]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:20 pm [This will be posed to the forum tonight]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:21 pm (Whisper to Chris) [Chris will take 1 damage for every half hour that passes. Unless he gets medical help or an antidote]
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:21 pm [Does Victor hear the girl screaming?]
Storyteller:
09/17/2009 4:22 pm [Yes, he would, as would Dave and Doc]
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:23 pm As the man headed for the back of the hen house, the Professor threw his cane-sword point first at the man's back, attempting to stop him from reaching what was no doubt an exit.
Management:
09/17/2009 4:23 pm Professor has rolled an Makeshift Spear!!! roll (4 dice), getting 9, 7, 10, 5, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:24 pm Victor tells the boy in a significantly more authoritative voice, "Stay here. I will be back for you. I have to go help that girl."
Chris:
09/17/2009 4:24 pm *stumbles and trys to throw the hatched into the mans fleeing back* ((willpower used))
Professor:
09/17/2009 4:24 pm [Olympics with the Professor, coming this fall on Fox...]
Victor:
09/17/2009 4:25 pm [hehe]

Victor:
09/17/2009 4:26 pm Victor runs out of the barn looking for the girl and the thin man.

Doc:
09/17/2009 4:29 pm Doc cursed, Greenhorns, they were going to lose someone this night if this kept on. He was sure of it. now they'd lost the element of surprise entirely. He hoped that the rash stupidity of those two would at least pay off in a civilian life saved. he moved to the door and while trying not to silhouette himself for that damn sniper survey the area for anyone trying to move to flank the overeager fools who'd yet to learn that success on an op like this meant never ever ever giving up numerical advantage to go running into tight dark places.

Storyteller:

As the Professor hurled his cane sword after the thin man, it struck the meaty part of the man's shoulder. He bellowed- but kept on. He ducked for a moment, pulling out the sword cane. He flung it with disgust, causing it to skid out of sight along the dusty floor.

The thrown projectiles hasten the doctor's steps into the yawning black of the hen house. The girl screams piteously. The doctor can be heard swearing at her, such coarse language should never grace a child's ears. As you look after him, you see that he tips a table over behind him. A special treat for you to navigate in order to pursue him, something that will slowly slow you down.

Shadows yawn around you, they seem to swallow the doctor up. The stench of death assaults you. The disrespect afforded the bodies, stacked like fire wood, makes you feel death is cheap here. Did these people leave behind loved ones? You recall Desi's words, that Henry is now an orphan by his own mother's choice.

Now the only sound is of the weeping child, alone in the black with the deadly doctor.

Professor:

The Professor hesitated, torn between the child in distress and the fact they would likely need the whole team rather than half to deal with this maniac.

Dave Ellis:

Shotgun primed, Dave continues onto the source of the screaming.


Doc:

Death was never easy, didn't matter who or how. Some were worse than others but it was a mere matter of degrees. They had to deal with it. Doc watched the dark night from the entrance to the barn. The sounds that echoed in the otherwise silent night air were not ones that told of peace or hope. They told him of Greenhorns who'd run off without a care, trying to do the right thing he was sure but lacking the discipline to ensure that they lived through it.

He sized up what they knew of the threat, which was far from enough. Who knew how many of those beast things were walking the shadows and what it would take to lay them out. Then there was the far more chilling problem of the human menace. Who ever did this, human, corpse or witch folk was going to pay for it.

He looks over his shoulder "how are they?" he asks dr Hollandale curtly.


Professor:
Samuel followed Dave, letting the more experienced man take point.

Storyteller:
In the barn
As you pursue him, the long tables beside you warp in your imagination. The Professor is without his cane, the lone weapon in his arsenel, which lays unseen somewhere on the ground up ahead. Is that an arm, tipped with a poisonous needle? No, only a sleeve over the drill. You weave through the tables covered with various clutter.

The doctor has deftly melded into the shadows, silent as the grave. The child has fallen quiet now as well, making your heart hammer with dread. The hen house is thirty yards long, plenty of room for the doctor to give you the slip or fall in step behind you.

In the Hen House
"They?" The Doctor wondered for a moment. She'd wandered away from the unconscious woman to stare up at the rafters, where the young boy remained huddled, minding the advice of the man who'd just departed the barn.
"She's fine." she gestured to Marsha. "I'm worried about the boy. He appears unharmed, but who knows what he's seen?"

Doc:
"Enough to hurt," he says softly glancing back and up. Monsters came in all sizes and all sorts of faces and they spread in more ways than doc could count.

"You alright holding the fort here? those greenhorns are going to get themselves killed If someone doesn't start organizing them." he says flatly.

Storyteller:
Her hand twitches to her hip holster, checking that her pistol remains there. "Yes." She replies. "You go on and make sure I don't have to sew on any one else tonight. I'll keep every one here."

Doc:
He nods and slips out into the night, doing his best not to be silhouetted at any point as he moves keeping low towards the last source of noise, the pipe he wields held ready, should anything approach.

Dave Ellis:
Dave hands Samuel a flashlight and motions for him to keep an eye on the entrance. Feeling the tense moment, he grips his shotgun, and scans the hen house as best he can from a stationary position, his nerves like a knife.


Professor:
Samuel stood in the doorway, determined not to let anything pass without a fight.
The Professor looked to see how far away from the doorway his weapon of choice was and whether he could retrieve it without leaving his position.

Doc:
Approaching the others Doc moves quietly and carefully trying not to attract unwanted attention.
Storyteller:
The flash light moves along the ground, but doesn't yield up the cane. It was likely up ahead where the doctor had pulled it out of his shoulder, a good twenty feet up the aisle.

The men crouch silently, waiting. Nothing happens. The man ahead is just as quiet as they. What exactly is he doing now, as you crouch in the dark?

Dave Ellis:
Dave inches forward, his eyes scrutinizing every shadow. He wants to ask someone what happened, and he's all too aware that the girl's life may already have ended.
Doc:
Reaching the enterence to the shed that the altercation had occured in he slipped silently up to the door peering inside without a word. The silence could be good or ill. He wasn't yet ready to accept it at face value.

Storyteller:
As Dave picks his way further into the uneven aisles lined with shadows, the outside cries and hair raising sounds slowly become more muffled. The others remain near the entrance, Dave is very much alone as he moves forward.Darkness perches on your shoulder, immersing everything. It's hard to see your hand in front of your face, yet alone the thin gruesome man and his captive child.

"Who are you?" The doctor rasps from somewhere up ahead. "You're not from around you, but I recognize your sort. You're hunters too, aren't you?"

He laughs now, the sound like a snake moving over dried grass.
"Take a long look, children. This is what awaits you."
The Professor grimaced, but refused to give the man the satisfaction of a response, resolutely guarding the doorway.



Dave grits his teeth, wanting to answer the voice. Instead, he moves as quietly as he can towards the laughter. The shotgun stock is now pressed against his shoulder. He peers into the black. Occasionally he cranes his head back, trying to take in all the sound he can.

Doc slips inside. Seems the Greenhorns had at least not got themselves killed yet. He heads forward keeping himself to the inside edge of the building, again he wants not to be noticed until he's ready for it.

He nods slightly to the professor but doesn't speak.

Storyteller:
The door way is empty and dull, the night outside devoid of any danger. 'Doc' has departed from the barn with the idea that he'd lead the newcomers, but he comes up behind them, as silent as they.

"You can't have been at this long. I picked a sword cane out of my shoulder- when you've been at it a bit, you pick up more effective means. Like for example, sealing poison into .357 bullets.

That's a treat that I expect you'll find out first hand, you keep on like this. But you haven't taken a shot." The voice is quiet for a minute.
"Perhaps murdering a man isn't in your blood."

Professor:
The Professor noticed Doc's nod out of the corner of his eye, his left hand moved behind his back to give a thumbs up as his right continued to hold the flashlight, the pale light almost pointless against the darkness.

Dave Ellis has rolled an Perception roll (3 dice), getting 7, 7, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has failed the roll.
Dave Ellis has rolled an Dex+Stealth+1 roll (5 dice), getting 3, 10, 6, 2, 4, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 2 successes.
Storyteller has rolled an Pre P roll (4 dice), getting 1, 7, 7, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has failed the roll.
Storyteller has rolled an P Stealth roll (5 dice), getting 5, 5, 2, 1, 10, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 1 success.



Storyteller:
As Dave creeps along, he turns his head at a moon beam striking a wooden beam. It's fallen from above, but laid just so as to be a ramp up to the rafters above their head.

A sword cane lays beside the wooden beam.


Dave carefully picks up the swordcane, inspecting it and setting it aside. He peers up into the rafters, the barrel of his pump-action following his gaze. He doesn't attempt to mount the beam yet.


Doc didn't respond to the thumb, his attention going to the nutcase in front of them. He frowns and stays down for the moment.


Management:
0 | 09/24/2009 2:40 pm Storyteller has rolled an secret roll roll (3 dice), getting 5, 10, 3, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 2 successes.
Storyteller:
"Boring," The man laughs coldly. "- frightened kids, huddled by the door. You know, following that flash light lets me see where you're at, my sword less man."

A click sounds, the safety being taken off the gun.

"Hello, big man."
The wooden beam besides Dave's head is pitted as a gun shot rings out, making one's ears ring. As Dave turns his head, he notes something liquid is boiling out of the gun, escaping the heat of the gun shot.

"Whose down there?" The man repeats, laughing.

The muzzle flash has given him away to Dave, he's crouched up above where three crossbeams meet up. The girl is clutched to his chest by her hair.

Doc sneaks left bringing himself slowly towards the source of the voice.
Management:
0 | 09/24/2009 2:46 pm Doc has rolled 3 dice, getting 5, 9, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.


Samuel shined the torch up at the source of the muzzle flash, attempting to illuminate and/or distract the man and give Dave a better chance of shooting at him.

Dave Ellis:
Seeing the crazed gunman clutching the girl, Dave realises that he doesn't necessarily have the time he needs to take proper aim. Nevertheless he brings up his shotgun, going for the man's head. He squeezes the trigger, anticipating noise and recoil.
Dave Ellis has rolled an Dex+Firearms+4+Willpower-4 roll (11 dice), getting 1, 5, 8, 1, 10, 1, 2, 6, 5, 8, 1, 10, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 5 successes. This roll used the 9-again rule.

Storyteller:
Doc weaves to the left, Sam's illumination letting the man be seen far more easier. He is still up above the three men by an easy seven feet. Dave has found a way up, the sloping beam, although it is literally at the mad man's feet.

Dave chooses his shot and fires, catching the man above the left eye brow. He makes a horrid noise and slumps, lurching over the side of the beams. The doctor is a gruesome mess, the top of his head has been shot clean off.

The little girl screams. Brain matter and blood have splattered over her hair, but a very real fear is that the dead man's arm is looped over her shoulder, dragging her over the edge with him.



Doc leaped forward out of the darkness, using the light of the blast to orientate himself. Leaping forward to try and catch the girl.Management:
0 | 09/24/2009 3:03 pm Doc has rolled 6 dice, getting 2, 1, 4, 4, 6, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has failed the roll.


Dave doesn't have time to linger on the ruin he'd made of the man's skull. He lurches forward, in an attempt to catch the falling child.Management:
0 | 09/24/2009 3:02 pm Dave Ellis has rolled an Dex+Athletics roll (5 dice), getting 3, 8, 5, 9, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 2 successes.

Professor:
Lacking the athletic skills his two companions possessed, the Professor merely walked over to where he had seen his cane-sword last, picking it up and inspecting it for any signs of damage.

Storyteller:
Doc comes around the aisle in time to see the spectacular shot - brain and blood splatter, gun powder now mingles with the ammonia of the chicken shit and the stink of the dead bodies. The child's precarious position tears at the hearts of Dave and Doc, both whom run to catch her. The Profesor's light shines onto the dead man, the little girl teetering on the egde of the wooden beam and the brain matter splattered over the beams and dripping down onto the dirt floor. A tableua of bloody violence lit up for all the world to see.

Doc discovers the Professor's cane sword at in inopportune moent, losing his balance and stumbling down on all floors into a mess of brain and blood. Dave avoids becoming tangled up with Doc and catches the little girl in his arms.


********************
------------------------
_________________________


Speechless, Dave looks the girl over and sets her down. He racks his gun and motions for Samuel to come over. "You're a doctor, right? Look this kid over..."

He tries to block the child's view of the human wreckage as he begins to go through the corpses effects.
Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled an Degeneration (Murder) roll (4 dice), getting 1, 8, 6, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 2 successes.
Doc curses, but rolls to the side, to keep himself out of the way of Dave. he scoops up the sword and looks down at the man, a poor end.

Looking up at the girl with a thin smile, that at least was good.


Storyteller:
As Dave picks through bits of bone, blood and the aftermath of death, he turns up a few interesting bits. The gun itself is a nice pistol, but as Dave drops the clip, he notes that the bullets are home made. The ends have been sealed over with a drop of bees wax. Something special had been put into these seven bullets...

Searching the doctor's pockets came up with two more syringes filled with dubious liquid and a scrap of paper. "I hear the whispered truth', is scrawled across it.




Doc rose and looked the girl over to make sure she was unhurt, He tried his best to look as unscary as possible, despite holding his sword.
SStoryteller:
The girl shivered and latched herself to Doc, looping her arms around his neck. The hug is grim, as she is fairly bloody.
"I want Theodora." She whispered through her sniffles.
The sword cane is apparently the least scary thing she'd seen tonight.


Dave Ellis:
"Fuck me running..." Dave mutters, more than a little nauseated by his own handiwork. He pulls the corpse's shirt over the terrible head wound, for the child's sake. Ejecting one of the strange bullets, he holds it in the piece of paper. The syringes are set out of reach of the child. He turns to the others, unsure of whether to run through his findings with the child present. In the end urgency trumps tact.

"Get a look at these. Couple' needles too. And a creepy note. Didn't that freak say something about poison bullets?"

The child's whispering interrupts him.

"We oughtta get her to Hollandale maybe?"



Doc:
He doesn't respond. He wouldn't know how, he didn't know whether theodora was alive or dead. He held her close with his free hand, supporting her and giving her what support he can by being near "Who's Theodora?" he asks her gently.

Storyteller:
"Theodora," The little girl replies, not answering the doctor's question. " She's in the Milton building with the others. Geraldo was taking me there when -" She shivered and avoided looking at the body of the doctor.

"Thank goodness you're all right." Doctor Hollandale's voice cuts in. She's walked into the hen house holding the little boy. She shields his face by holding his head against her neck.

"I don't know how she woke up, but that woman's gone. She woke up and took off this way. I was worried she'd go after you again-"

She stops talking, studying the bodies stacked like firewood and the dead doctor. She moves to the little girl, shifting Henry in her arms as she examines the little girl's head and arms before realizing the blood isn't hers.


Doc:
He frowns and shakes his head. Moving away from the corpse out into the rest of the barn.


Storyteller:
Chicken wire lies strewn about. In the front, dead hens lie headless in roosts and nests; some of their legs still twitch. In the back half of the henhouse there’s a twin bed made with hospital corners and several pieces of unfnished pine furniture (a dresser, a night-stand and a spotless mirror with plain frame). On the other side waits a toolbench: strange medical tools dangle from pegboard hooks, and various jugs and vials of odd liquids and powders sit amidst a perfect line of empty syringes. A bullet making set up is here, as well as a small amount of bees wax. An old, worn note book sets on the work bench beside a trio of needles.



Dave picks up his gun and retrieves his flashlight. He picks up the needles, slipping the gun into the holdall. He reads the note aloud.

"'I hear the whispered truth...' It's like I was saying. Wackjobs. Jonestown."

He slips the note away, holding up the needles.

"No prizes for guessing what this does to you, right?"



Doc:
"They brought children into it..." Doc's voice is cold, quite and utterly lacking in anger or the normal level of cynicism he has. "Children." He looks from one to the other of those around them before looking down at the girl in his arms.

Dave Ellis:
"Wackjobs." Dave repeats, although his heart isn't really in it.

Storyteller:
The little girl perks up a bit, recognizing Henry. Doctor Hollandale walks besides Doc and the children la with their heads against Doc and Hollandale, staring at the other child wordlessly.
The children do not speak a word.


Hollandale steps away from Doc, fingering the medical equipment with distaste.
"He's had medical training," She notes with surprise, picking up one of the liquid containers and reading the chemical components on its side.

"This is a fast acting poison, designed to..." Her eyes move to the children and she amends her sentence. "- make people go to sleep quickly."

Her hand moves along the table to the notebook, which she shies away from with distaste. Its as though she fears the note book, fears reading the thoughts that went through the doctor's mind.


Doc:
These horrors, the places they were forced to go... they were no place for children. That was why they were here, to divide the line between the dark and the light. That anyone could bring children into this darkness disgusted him, anyone who did it was no longer human, no matter what the biology said of that he was sure. "We should get moving" he says quietly and calmly.


Dave wanders over to get a closer look. He compares the bullets on the table with the ones in the revolver. He eyes the notebook.

"Same handwriting?" he asks Hollandale, holding up the scrap of paper he'd found.

Storyteller:
The bullets are the same as the ones the doctor loaded into his revolver, although these twenty some bullets on the work bench have not yet been altered.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Hollandale hedges, not touching the notebook.
If Dave handles the note book, he'd come to realize that the doctor did write in this note book. It seems that this note book is older, for the date on the first page is from October 2000.

Dave shrugs, slipping the scrap away before he begins to leaf through the book, skimming entries.

Storyteller:
The entries are at first, remarkably interesting. The first entry for October tells the tale that Potter, Washington and himself (Prekowsky) have tracked down the blood drinker that put Potter's nephew into the ICU. There's an accurate sketch of a beautiful brunette- and on the opposing page, of a snarling, beast with blood dripping from it's maw. It takes a moment for Dave to realize these are of the same 'woman'.
'We did not realize the strength of the beast, who appeared to be a thin woman easily handled," Prekowsky writes. '- it broke Washington's arm as though it were a dry stick. It took us nearly three hours to wrestle and pin the beast so that the fire could be put to her. She burned as we'd been told she would. We thought we'd wrestled her for twenty minutes, but the sun was coming up by the time we headed home'.

As Dave flipped through the pages, he found several entries like this. The cell faced off against vampires, mostly- although several times, Prekowky sketches things that are clearly inhuman, like dog - men that turn back to human at death.

Dave Ellis:
"There's some interesting shit in here." Dave remarks, bluntly. "I mean, the guy was nuts, but if any of this is right, then he and this Potter guy went after monsters. 'He who hunts monsters...' or however the fuck you say it."

Storyteller:
"They were Hunters?" Hollandale repeats, horrified by this realization. "They were like us? But..."

She turns and looks again at the stack of dead bodies by the door, the impersonal way the doctor had arranged his death house.


Dave avoids following her gaze over ot the stacked carcasses, instead tapping on the notebook.

"It's all in here, Doc. Read it and weep."

"Can I?" She accepts the note book, shifting Henry so that she has a free hand to flip through.

"This... this states that they hunted to protect people. Their families and strangers. Oh." She grimaced as the page falls onto a gruesome autopsy picture.

"They autopsied strange creatures."

Dave peers down at the illustration, scraping stray bullets into a plastic bag from his holdall.

"Yeah? Any way of knowing if the book's bullshit? If there's a lick of truth to it, then this Prekowsky went nuts along the way. We seen that here tonight."

Chris looks around not feeling very well. He wonders why they have all stopped instead of chasing the psycos then coming back to look at things later.

Storyteller:
"Let me look for a minute - if they're facts line up with what we know of the creatures, we can determine that they were on the streets with them. "

The Doctor flips a few pages, frowning at parts and then blinking at surprise at others.

She looks for several moments, before offering.
"They developed a new way to keep their focus," She noted. "Potter would keep them focused through the hunt and they weren't as badly affected by the mind affecting aspects of the vampires. This looks legitimate, at least the part about vampires.

It also mentions 'werewolves' and 'thralls', that my cell hasn't seen much of. I'm not sure how true that information is."

Chris looks around and stumbles as the poison he was injected with weakens him further. Chris looks at the others and speaks.
"Ummmm I do not mean to rush you but would'nt it make more sense to just grab the books, take down the insane people and get out of here... maybe to a hospital?"


Storyteller:
"Well, Dave's already shot the doctor." Doctor Hollandale replied, eyeing Chris oddly "And I am a doctor- why do we need a hospital?"



Chris:
"Ummm to find out what they injected me with?"
Storyteller:
"What?" The Doctor exclaimed. "You were injected and didn't say anything?"

"These probably." Dave holds up the needles he found on the doctor.

Chris looks at Dave almost in disbelif. "Umm yes... I agree he used a needle. I meant more along the lines of what was in the syringe and is now in my body."


Dave looks at Chris with narrowed eyes.

"No shit, a needle. I mean what's in this. If the Doc's right, you're pretty fucked."


"Haven't you paid any attention tonight?" The Doctor exclaimed. "Dave and the Profesor questioned Desi about the doctor- who was poisoning people into killing themselves. Sit down, Chris. Sit down and don't exert yourself."

The Doctor moved to the mad man's bench, lifting the various chemicals and reading the chemical make ups rapidly.

Chris:
8 | 09/24/2009 4:46 pm *sits and answers* yea... but I .. *takes a breah trying to trean steady* I thought traking/catching the killers took priority... it probly does not react instantly I am sure I have at least a hour or 2 enough time to clear out the farm
Dave Ellis:
"How'd you know that? You been poisoned before? You could be punching the clock any second now."
Storyteller:
"And what gave you that idea?" The Doctor asked as she rummaged through the work bench. "The piles of corpses that surround us?"
Chris shrugs. if its a timed reaction sure... but I have never heard of such things accept in books. normally there is a deterioration.... unless it was a nero toxin.. in wich case its already to late since we have no clue what kind and teh anti toxis can be just as devistating if you take the wrong one
Storyteller:
"Damn it." The doctor made a more severe curse as she picked one of the unused needles from Dave's hands and grabbed a petri dish off of the bench.
Opening her medical bag, she pulled out a microscope slide and placed it in the dish. Donning gloves, she carefully dispensed a drop onto the dish and applied the glue and slide cover over the poison.

Reaching again into her bag, she drew out a field microscope and set it up on the work bench, placing the slide within it as she leaned in to study it.
Management:
0 | 09/24/2009 4:50 pm Storyteller has rolled an Identifying Poison roll (7 dice), getting 7, 2, 5, 1, 8, 6, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 2 successes.
Chris:
"Or at least thats my understanding form documentaries."

Storyteller:
"Well, I'm glad to know that you have no problem just dropping dead in the middle of a hunt."
The doctor muttered.
"Barium poisoning."

She moved to Chris and drew out a stethoscope, un- buttening his shirt. She listened to his heart beat with growing alarm.

"How long ago did this happen?"
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Treating poison roll (7 dice), getting 4, 2, 2, 6, 2, 4, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 1 success.
Chris tries to keep his heart rate down and breath steady dispight the growing anziaty*
Storyteller:
The doctor reached into her bag and pulled out several vials of clear liquid. She rifled through the medicines, growing increasingly alarmed as she didn't find what she was looking for.

"Where's my sodium sulphat? Chris, how are you feeling?"

"Dave," The doctor whirled on Dave. "-start looking for a container that says sodium sulphat. It should be clear."
Chris:
*when we first ran in I charged him and he injected me instead of his intended victim befor he fled.
"Ummm better me then 6 or 7 innocents."

Dave grunts in the affirmitive, searching for the bottle.

Storyteller:
"You're obviously been out of it," The doctor worries. "Dave shot the doctor a few minutes ago. What the hell is wrong with you?"

She is seized with frustration at the irrational statement by Chris.
"Six or seven people are chicken scratch compared to the people he's already killed with this. Try not to talk."

She looks over at Dave worriedly, hoping he'd find the necessary antidote.

Chris:
ummm maybe it is effecting me more than I realized *chris answers*

Storyteller:
As Dave searched the work bench, he noted a small medicinal vial - similiar to those Doctor Hollandale had examined earlier. There was only one, a startling comparison to the numerous poisonous containers.


Dave hands the vial to Hollandale wordlessly.

Storyteller:
The Doctor hurriedly accepted the vial and drew it into a clean syringe. After drawing 10 CCs, she carefully swabbed Chris' arm with alcohol and plunged the needle in. The antidote burned as it went in, the medicine nauseates Chris. Within several minutes, his chest began to loosen and his breathing began to become less labored.
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Med + wp to curing Chris roll (11 dice), getting 6, 9, 1, 2, 2, 8, 10, 7, 7, 7, 7, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 3 successes.

Storyteller:
"That should handle the poison, but please be more careful." The Doctor pressured Chris.
"The effects are going to stay with you for a few days, but the medicine will cause the poison to turn into modules in your blood that will eventually break down."

Chris:
* takes deap breaths trying to control the nausia as chris says* I will see about geting knife and syringe proof trench and gloves
Storyteller:
"What?" The doctor wondered, leaning back and wiping her sweating brow. "I can't understand what you just said."

Chris:
*chris expounds* several companys make trench coats and gloves that can not be pierced by normal knives or syringes. I will see about geting a set so as to avoid this situation in the future
Storyteller:
"Oh... okay..." The Doctor shrugged, quickly putting her bag back in order.
"Should we take the poison?"
She wonders aloud.
Taking it would likely make them suspect if apprehended by authorities, but leaving it where any one could find it was less than appealing.
Dave Ellis:
"Fuck trenchcoats..." Dave mutters.

Storyteller:
[Chris has 3 Lethal, but the poison has been nullified]
Chris:
*stands very unsteadaly and says* should we chek the remaining buildings?
Storyteller:
"Maybe we should."" The Doctor wonders, after ensuring that the children didn't seem upset by the medical emergency that had taken place around them.

"Did you four figure out what's going on yet? Which building should we look at first?"
Chris:
*shrugs* nope I have no clue... but leaving any building unchecked seems like a really bad plan

Storyteller:
"Where should we go first, then?" The Doctor prompted him.
Chris:
ummm lets see *mentally picturing the farm and all its buildings* we have cleared the barn and the the hen house ... any other buildings clear?

Dave Ellis:
"We need to catch up with this Porter guy, if we're doing anything at all."
Chris:
The silo and the stables should both be very fast to clear..... les that 2 minutes for the silo assuming no internal modifications... and les than 4 for the stables
Dave Ellis:
"How the fuck do you figure that? You account for anything like this in here?"

Dave motions at the stacks of corpses.
Chris:
*looks at dave* yea its a mess.. but an empty building can be cleared very quickly if combat insues... well though it feels like an eternity such things happen very fast. most fight sthat are not full on battle feilds with hundreads dieing end in just a few minutes. unless its a jeneric brawl... *looks around* do you see any reason to pull our punches ?
*chris continues* me I am in no shape to help in a fight but I was preaty worthless in a fight befor... If we do not have the ammo and peopel to fight through the buildings thats another matter... one not related to time
Storyteller:
"Two and four minutes?" The Doctor wonders aloud.
"You just said that you're in no shape to fight... so.. who can clear them in two and four minutes?"


Chris:
a silo is a big empty room... if no combat it should take less than 30 seconds to sweep it.

a stable is one long empty room with what amounts to a dozon or so cubicals all with the doors faceing hte center path. possibly one -2 tack rooms. again you can walk the length preaty quick... if combat insues... lets say each exchange of blos takes 1-3 seconds... lets assume 5 to be safe... that means 20 exchanges of blows per minute. .. . in 5 minutes thats 100 echanges... if you want raise the time to 10 minutes for the stables
Dave Ellis:
"None of this is related to time. We don't know shit about this place even after all we've seen. Makes no sense to gauge the minutes. Where are we most likely to catch up with this Porter asshole. The hell with your math."
Storyteller:
"What?" The Doctor looked confused and looked between Dave and Chris.
"I'm sorry, I'm not a tactician. I don't understand these time tables... but, yes."
She latched onto Dave's suggestion.
"Where would Potter be?"

Chris:
if I was runing from us I would go to the main house if I wanted to ambush us... the barn or garden if I was going to flee. we do not have enough peopel to secure the buildings we check.. our checks would mainly be for inocents

Storyteller:
"So.. in summation," The Doctor prompted. "Where should Potter be?"
"How are you figuring all this math?" The Doctor wondered."I thought you were a computer technician."

Chris smiles. "Computers are all math at the lowest levels shifting numbers manipulating ones and zeros. Parsing the data into managable peices then rearanging them to make patterns..

Potter seems a psycopath... that breaks virtually all models. well maybe a behviural psycologists would have some luck but that is a much fuzzyer science then I normally deal with.
Storyteller:
Hollandale gives Chris a confused look and wanders away, looking out of the Hen House door. From here, she can see the Morton Building and the Barn. In the distance, the stables and the Stone Colonial rose out of the dark.

Chris continues to speak: "If the priority is catching him we can go through the buildings and hope we are lucky.. if he wants to evade us he can do so easily. Unless either of you have backup to call in. If he wants a confrentation... well it will not mater what building we pick.. we will find him when we hit the trap."


Dave Ellis:
"Sounds like bullshit to me. Take your math and your probability elsewhere. Took us long enough to find that prick over there. Took one second to blow the top of his skull off. He was holding a kid as a shield. Your equations take shit like that into account?"
"My money's on the main building. Even if Potter's not there we might find something that'll shed light on this craziness."


Chris:
8 | 09/24/2009 5:56 pm *sighsand answeres* "yes it does... just not in a plesent way... I admit I was a bit out of it.. but I suspect you did not stand there for several minutes but made a decision and acted within 60 seconds."

Storyteller:
"Which one is the main building? The Doctor wondered. "The stone colonial?"

Dave Ellis:
35 | 09/24/2009 5:59 pm Dave scowls at the number theory. "We stood for several minutes in the dark looking for the guy before he started firing, and I don't care for you reducing so many ways for lives bein' lost, ours and innocents, down to some on the hoof theory."

Dave points to the Stone Colonial.

"Yeah, that big one."
Chris:
8 | 09/24/2009 6:00 pm "ok main building is fine.. i just recomended silo and stables as easier to clear then the main building" *trys to stand.. and says "Lay on, Macduff, And damn’d be him that first cries, ‘Hold, enough!’"

*prepares to follow Dave to whatever building he picks*














-------------------

The Doctor hurriedly accepted the vial and drew it into a clean syringe. After drawing 10 CCs, she carefully swabbed Chris' arm with alcohol and plunged the needle in. The antidote burned as it went in, causing Chris to feel nauesues. Within several minutes, his chest began to loosen and his breathing began to become less labored.






Chicken wire lies strewn about. In the front, dead hens lie headless in roosts and nests; some of their legs still twitch. In the back half of the henhouse there’s a twin bed made with hospital corners and several pieces of unfnished pine furniture (a dresser, a night-stand and a spotless mirror with plain frame). On the other side waits a toolbench: strange medical tools dangle from pegboard hooks, and various jugs and vials of odd liquids and powders sit amidst a perfect line of empty syringes. A bullet making set up is here, as well as a small amount of bees wax. An old, worn note book sets on the work bench beside a trio of needles.

Professor:
Samuel followed the others, making sure to stay close under the oppressive darkness that covered the farm, trying to keep an eye out for anyone or anyTHING that might be lurking waiting to attack them.
Chris looks at his fellow hunters, since they shot down his ideas he is willing to follow them to the building of their choice.

Professor:
Samuel fell in line next to Chris as the group made its way towards the Colonial where the faint cackling of laughter had come from not moments ago.
Chris:
*sighs and says* " I still think the main house wil be the most difiicult to secure. and we should start with the silo or stables... any building with only a couple rooms"

*Chris follows obediently*
Storyteller:
While Chris continued to state that he'd rather someone secure the other buildings before the main house, Samuel started his way towards the main house, the Colonial.
This was once a nice farmhouse, but now it’s a picture of disarray.
Furniture is overturned or broken into splinters. Old newspapers lie everywhere. Huge sections of wallpaper are missing where it’s been ripped from the walls. In the bare patches, someone has painted messages in sloppy red and black: phrases like GOD WANTS US TO COME HOME and THE SOUL’S SPARK IS IN THE HEAD and I HEAR THE WHISPERED TRUTH.

Storyteller:
While Chris continued to state that he'd rather someone secure the other buildings before the main house, Samuel started his way towards the main house, the Colonial.
This was once a nice farmhouse, but now it’s a picture of disarray.
Furniture is overturned or broken into splinters. Old newspapers lie everywhere. Huge sections of wallpaper are missing where it’s been ripped from the walls. In the bare patches, someone has painted messages in sloppy red and black: phrases like GOD WANTS US TO COME HOME and THE SOUL’S SPARK IS IN THE HEAD and I HEAR THE WHISPERED TRUTH.
Chris:
*Chris does his best to keep an eye out for threats as he takes up the rear of the what he gueses could loosly be called a formation*
The Professor, frowned, investigating the messages on the wall to see what exactly made them and how fresh they were.
Storyteller:
The general layout of the farmhouse consists of a kitchen, a small family room with fireplace, a padlocked cellar door next to the kitchen and a small closet-like powder room. A single set of squeaky wooden stairs leads upstairs to three bedrooms, one full bathroom and a pull-down attic ladder. Everything here is in chaos, too: the tub is cracked, pots and pans lie everywhere and the floorboards have been peeled up in places.

It seems that most of the messages have been scrawled in paint. They seem aged, the smell of the paint has dissapated.


Up above your heads on the second floor, a gun shot fires. You hear someone lamenting nearly immediately.

"Damn it man, can't you see that I'm trying to help? Why are you making this so hard?"
The man's voice makes it sound as though he is in anguish.

You shouldn't be able to hear the voice from so far away- where is the man?
You turn your head and notice a vent. The vent is high up the kitchen wall, at least eleven feet up. It must be carrying sound down from the upstairs rooms.


Chris:
*chris says* I think we should check into that
Storyteller:
"We should look into what?"
Doctor Hollandale wondered, the two children clutching at her legs, making her seem like a pillar with winding vines wrapped around her.
"The gun shot or the vent?"


*chris says* "Upstairs and the gun shot"

Professor:
Samuel grimaced. "It would be better to let one of the others take point. I personally don't use firearms."

Storyteller:
The doctor stepped aside and tested the doors on either side of the kitchen. She hefted up some loose pieces of wood from the destroyed cabinets.

"I can take point," She suggested. "If you'll help me barricade the children in here, where they'll be safe. We'll be able to hear them through the vents."



Chris:
*nods* "and I am usless in a fight... but I do not see them heading up"


Professor:
The Professor nodded at Doctor Hollandale's suggestion, giving assistance with her makeshift barricade.
Chris:
*begins helping with the barricade/children holding area*

Storyteller:
The doctor overturned a kitchen table and set the children underneath it, assuring them that they would be right back. The Professor, Chris and the doctor went about barricading the doors out of the kitchen, ensuring that nothing would be able to sneak in behind them- at least, not without being noticed.

It took a few moments, during which the man upstairs continued to mumble- mainly about 'the spark is in the head'. Finally, Hollandale grabbed a length of wood and offered it to the men.
"Can you heft this up to hip hieght until I stand on it, then raise it up? I'll crawl in through the vent."

Upstairs, the man muttered: "The head, he wants us to come home.."

Professor:
Dutifully Samuel took hold of one end of the wooden length, holding it steady so that Dr. Hollandale would have a suitable step to get to the vent on.

Chris:
*nods and braces himself so she can step up to the vent*

Doc moved silently as they entered the colonial. He worked on the barricades with the others. He frowned at the voice and considered the room for weapons before returning his gaze to the vent.

As they set up to get the doctor through the vent he turned his gaze towards the internal door liostening carefully.
Storyteller:
The room offered little in form of weapons- some silverware lay on the floor, bits of wood and cracked pottery were the best that the room had to offer.

Hollandale took a step up on the length of wood, placing her hands against the wall for balance. Her head remained a good two feet below the vent.

"I need to be raised a bit," She stated. "- and does any one have a screwdriver?"

Chris:
*grabs a butter knife and hands it to her* " will this work? what about pushing the fridge over for you to stand on?

Storyteller:
"Uh, no, its probably safe if you raise me up."

She carefully reached down and accepted the butter knife.
"Uh, lets see..."

Professor:
"Sadly screwdrivers aren't part of the standard crime scene investigation kit or I'd hand you one... I'd suspect I'd have to be on the other side of the law to have one of those handy..." Samuel grimaced, making note to find himself a portable tool kit of some kind for future missions.

Storyteller:
The doctor applied a little pressure with the knife on the bolts. The knife slipped and skidded off at first, but the doctor had some success in loosening the bolts.

As she pulled the vent cover loose she handed it and the bolts down to the others.
She peered inside hesitantly.

The voice was louder now.

"The idiots, they couldn't see. He wants us to see the truth. The next, the spark is in the neck. Cut it. Cut it good."

Doc:
He wishes he'd brought at least his tool belt, screwdrivers were useful both as tools and weapons in a pinch. He moves to help with the board.
Professor:
"Pleasant sounding fellow isn't he?" Samuel Stevens muttered with a hint of sarcasm, wondering what other depraved individuals they were likely to run across this night.
Chris:
*says * "sounds like he is about to hurt somone"


Professor:
"Ready doctor?" Samuel asked, prepared to lift the wooden support at Hollandale's signal so that she could crawl into the vent.
Storyteller:
Biting her lip, the doctor placed her hands on either side of the vent and bent her knees, preparing to push off of the beam to launch herself into the vent. It was clearly frightening for her, but she persevered and jumped- propelling herself into the vent. Her legs were drawn up into the vent a moment later. There was a click as she unsnapped the safety clasp on her holster for her pistol. There were scurrying sounds as she began to move through the vent.

"The blood, it gushes." The man sounds contemplative. "I'm sorry, brother. If you'd just hold still, I'd lay you down next to her."

Another shot gun blast rocked the house, even louder with the vent open.

Chris:
*with the doctor gone chris now trys to push over the fridge so people can get down or up easier*

Professor:
"Should we make our way up the stairs with you taking point?" Samuel asked Doc, unsure what help he'd be personally but unwilling to let Doctor Hollandale tackle the lunatic upstairs by herself.

Doc:
He curses "what the hell was that for?" at chris for the thump of the fridge before moving to the door and listening silently, last thing they needed was to let the enemy they were there especially with the doctor vulnerable. damn greenhorns.


Chris:
*looks at doc* look ass hole all you have done is complain and bitch without offering any directions or sudgestions. we have peopel screeming and the crunch and booms of people climbing through thin tin tubing that makes up vents . so either offer recomendations, guidance, sudgestions or get off my ass.
Management:
Chris has rolled an wits+stealth+will roll (4 dice), getting 9, 10, 10, 9, 7, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Chris has 4 successes.
Professor:
"Gentlemen, this is hardly the time." The Professor admonished. "Now, shall we go help the good Doctor or stand here and bicker some more?" he said with a raised stern eyebrow.

Doc:
3 | 10/01/2009 2:59 pm he doesn't respond keeping his attention glued to the nutters beyond, this wasn't going to be easy, who knew how many there were or how well armed. He holds a hand up for a moment trying to see if anything has changed before they move.
Storyteller:
Chris managed to scoot the fridge under the vent, although now the men would have to figure out how to jump the five feet up to the top of the fridge.
The woman has vanished into the black void of the vent, where the man is clearly well armed and content to keep shooting. There is no sign from Hollandale, who is likely sneaking towards the man whose barricaded himself in the upstairs bed room.

Could you leave her to fight the man alone?

"The head-" The man pauses. Had he heard the fridge lurch? Had he heard the doctor?

"- what's that, Washington?" He whispers, sounding intrigued. "The time's coming? Oooh... What should I do?"
Chris:
*thinks well 5 feet is beter then what it was befor ... prepares to follow the profesor up stairs*

Professor:
The Professor stood a few steps down from Doc on the stairs, waiting for a signal to make their move.

Doc:
He frowns looking at the stuff in the room and the problem that they had left. They had to move and their own barricade seemed to have been built too zealously. Still the kid had a point, he'd spent too long talking and following. "Kid..." he shakes his head "I'd offer one or other of you a lift up but its going to leave us in the same problem, getting all our forces in their quickly and quietly." He frowns.
Chris:
"*says* " I suck at combat want me to stay here? incase she comes back via the vent?


Professor:
"Seems to me we have two choices then. Either we make a distraction so that the Doctor can strike, or she makes one so that we can strike..." Samuel stated, hoping someone else might see a third option. Usually when he'd come into a crime scene it had finished rather than still being in progress so to speak.
Storyteller:
A maniac laughter rolled out, the shot gun was reloaded.
"Hang on!" He bellowed out. "The end is coming! It will be marvelous, my children. The head, its ready to usher us into Paradise!"

Now he seems so very loud, filling your head. You wonder if he will attract the vicious dog or the vengueful woman who'd vanished from the barn. You look at the children, hiding underneath the table- and at the makeshift barricades you'd constructed to safeguard them.

You have moved the barricades from one of the two doors to exit the kitchen and get to the staircase. Will you barricade it up behind you?

Noises sound from above, it sounds like the man is moving about. Where is Hollandale?

Doc:
Doc cursed before looking to Chris with a nod. "Barricade up behind us." he says flattly. Taking a breath he presses himself against the wall, having appropriated one of the more appropriately sized lengths of timber. he began to edge very slowly up the stairs.

Professor:
The Professor thanked the heavens he hadn't put his cane-sword away yet, readying himself as he followed Doc upstairs.

Management:
Doc has rolled an sneaky roll (4 dice), getting 9, 8, 1, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.

* having recived his directions Chris stays to protect the children and rebuild the barricad*
Management:
Professor has rolled an Chance + Willpower roll (4 dice), getting 7, 6, 8, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.

Storyteller:
The two men manage to make it up the stairs. You find the main bedroom has been barricaded off from inside. If you try the door, you find it locked. There's likely something behind it. Do you try and break the door down or find another way - perhaps to reason?

The darkness is prevalent here, shadows seem to drift and roll around you.

Storyteller:
Chris managed to build the barricades back up, with himself inside- when he notices that something has creeped up the porch and is peering inside the Colonial. Something is the best way to describe it, for these things just don't seem natural. Three fire-hydrant sized core of black rats peer into the front door. They see you, but don't immediately move towards you. They're eyes lift, up towards the stair case.

Professor:
Motioning for Doc to remain silent, The Professor put his exceptional memory to good use, trying to recall exactly what the last man they had encountered sounded like, before banging on the barricaded door.
"Oy, open up. Need your help."
Management:
0 | 10/01/2009 3:26 pm Professor has rolled an Manipulate/Persuade + Willpower = Bluff roll (7 dice), getting 7, 8, 8, 6, 6, 10, 10, 6, 5, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 4 successes.

Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Resist roll (2 dice), getting 4, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has failed the roll.

Chris:
*watches the rat like things as he trys to glance around and find something to defend the kids with*


Storyteller:
"Whose out there?" The man asked, quarrelsome. You hear the sound of furniture being skidded back from the door. A man's eye fills the pace between the door and the wall as the door is cracked open.

The three monstrous, over sized rats enter the Colonial, sniffing about the floor. One drifts towards the kitchen where Chris and the children hide. Two amble about the main room.

Chris:
*glances at the sink hoping there is some bleach and a squirt bottle, wD-40 and a lighter... something*
Storyteller:
There is nothing but dirty rags underneath the sink.

Doc:
Doc waits pressing against the wall without a sound waiting until the man looks out.
Storyteller:
The Professor glances down the stairs and notes the three over sized, fire hydrant sized rats moving through the Colonial.


Chris:
*picks up the long piece of wood they used to lift the doctor since he sees nothing else*
Professor:
With a cheerful grin on his face considering the almost childish act he was about to commit, the Professor swiftly raised the tip of his cane-sword level with the eye peering out at them, and suddenly moved it forward with great vigor.

Storyteller:The man shrieks as the cane strikes his eye. The door is flung open as he stumbles back, crying out in pain.

Instantaneously, all three demons below gnash their teeth in delight and bound up the stairs towards the wounded man, Doc and the Professor.
These hideous creatures flash their teeth at Doc and the Professor, darting into the room with the wounded man.


Doc:
As the Proffessor destracts the man, Doc jams a hand into the crack as much as he can and applies all his strength to throwing the door open
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Dread powers: Agonize roll (3 dice), getting 9, 9, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 2 successes.


Storyteller:
The man clutches his bloody eye, screaming in agony and fear.

"Yes.." One of the rats growls, delighted. "It tastes so good, so good."
"Thank you, Killer." One says to the Professor as the three circle the wounded man, delighting at his agony. In fact... his agony seems to strengthen them.

Doc didn't stop to think but brought his makeshift club down hard on the last of the three rats.



The Professor stepped forward as well, attempting to dispatch another rat with his cane-sword quickly before the man's agony empowered them beyond the two men's fighting skills.
Management:
Professor has rolled an Demon Rat Splat! roll (3 dice), getting 10, 2, 3, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.
Chris:
*stands guard protecting the kids*
Storyteller:
"Augh!"
The man cries.
"No- no! I was trying to help. Why have you done this to me?"

He weeps with gut wrenching pain, stumbling away from the door, running towards the far wall.

Management:
0 | 10/01/2009 3:49 pm Storyteller has rolled an Demon attacking Doc roll (3 dice), getting 2, 1, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has failed the roll.
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Demon dodging roll (3 dice), getting 7, 5, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has failed the roll.
Management:
Doc has rolled 3 dice, getting 6, 10, 2, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 1 success.
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an 3rd demon pursuing Potter roll (3 dice), getting 4, 6, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has failed the roll.

Professor:
The Professor lashed out at the demon rat attempting to chase the wounded individual, attempting to fell it before it could carry out whatever it was intending.


Management:
Professor has rolled an Demon Rat Splat 2 roll (3 dice), getting 9, 8, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.

Storyteller:
The Professor wails a demon, clubbing it well across its back.
The man peers with his good eye at the wall, tearing at the wallpaper. Within a moment, the paper shredded and fell away, reealing a door.

Weeping piteously, the man opened the door and flung himself into the blackness. One of the rat demons dodges around the two men clubbing blows, pursuing the man into the black.

Management:
Doc has rolled an strike rat roll (3 dice), getting 3, 5, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has failed the roll.

Professor:
"Dash it all to heck!" The Professor cursed, watching for Doc's next attack and swinging for the same demon his companion did. They needed to finish these pests and go after the wounded man quickly.

Management:
Professor has rolled an Rat Splat roll (3 dice), getting 8, 2, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 1 success.


Storyteller:
The demons hissed.

"A taste, we just want a taste."
"You gave it to us," One accused the Professor. "Now we're going to finish it!"

With this dire threat, the giant rat demons dodged around the men and threw themselves through the once hidden door.

Doc:
"You get nothing from me Demon" he roars as he brought the two by four down on the retreating rat.

Turning back to the other two he motions into the tunnel "Maybe he summoned them, maybe they're a side effect. We won't know if they get him first." he says grabbing a knife and the rifle, shoving some of the ammo into his pockets.
Management:
0 | 10/01/2009 4:07 pm Doc has rolled 4 dice, getting 9, 2, 7, 10, 7, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.
Professor:
"After them?" Samuel enquired, looking to Doc for orders.
Storyteller:
Potter's abandoned gun, a Remington 700 rifle, is on a rest against the window with a high-powered scope. A quick glance around reveals abaseball bat and a skinning knife. He has plenty of ammo for the rifle (five boxes of 7mm rounds which he uses to help prop up his rifle, actually). Also
in the room with him are his personal effects, several journals and books from almost every religion.

The door that had been wall papered open stands unveiled, now.

You hear a scratching from the wall. The vent is kicked through as Hollandale tumbles into the room falling to her knees.

"Guys?" Hollandale sounds worried. "Three rat things just ran by me. There's a secret tunnel in the house! It smells like fresh air."

Professor:
The Professor gave Hollandale a helping hand to get to her feet. "We saw the demonic rats. Tough little blighters."


Storyteller:
"Demonic?" The doctor seemed to tremble.
"B-but what about Potter? He was a man!"

Professor:
"Currently he's a half-blind man, who got chased through that doorway." Samuel gestured to the formerly hidden doorway. "We were just about to decide whether to regroup or pursue."


Professor:
"Lead on good sir." The Professor gestured towards the doorway, taking a moment to use one of the bedsheets around them to wipe off some of the gore from his weapon.
Storyteller:
"B-But we should stop them," The Doctor stammered, appearing frightened.
"Anything the demons want can't be good... and I've been thinking. He was talking about a 'head' wanting things.."

Doc:
"well they went that way. We can't let them just get away. Who knows who they'll go after?" he says advancing into the tunnel mouth and sighting down the barrel of the rifle, which he holds with practiced ease, surveying as far as he can see.
Storyteller:
Looking through the door, he notes the dim outline of a banister, suggesting a staircase that descends down. There's no sign of man nor demon.

Professor:
Dutifully the Professor followed behind Doc, planning to give him enough room to stop in case he wanted to aim and fire suddenly, but staying close enough to be on hand if needed.

Doc:
"besides if he knows something we need to know what it is." he says advancing to the head of the stairs.
Storyteller:
As the group heads through the door, it leads to a winding stair case. As they head down two flights, they find themselves in a dark, musty smelling room.

The cellar beneath the stone colonial farmhouse is a rock-walled, dirt-foored affair. It’s mostly empty but for the skeletons of old furniture, a broken freezer and metal shelves flled with poor quality tools.

You hear a demonic cackle from the darkness that leads you to a dark tunnel. The Hunters peer through and note a dirt walled tunnel stretching as far as you can see.

Chris:
*hearing the scuffuling slowing down chris calls out* "every thing ok? should I get these kids back to the cars or hold tight?"

Professor:
126 | 10/01/2009 4:17 pm "Is it really wise to pursue these creatures when we can barely see in front of us?" The Professor asked, speculating that the demon rat creatures probably had superior night vision to any of them.
Doc:
3 | 10/01/2009 4:21 pm he frowns and nods "back out slowly." he says, not taking his attention off the area before him.





=======================
As the group heads through the door, it leads to a winding stair case. As they head down two flights, they find themselves in a dark, musty smelling room.

The cellar beneath the stone colonial farmhouse is a rock-walled, dirt-foored affair. It’s mostly empty but for the skeletons of old furniture, a broken freezer and metal shelves flled with poor quality tools.

You hear a demonic cackle from the darkness that leads you to a dark tunnel. The Hunters peer through and note a dirt walled tunnel stretching as far as you can see.
---

Dave squints along the length of his torch-beam and glances at the others, unsure of whether to enter the tunnel.

Professor:
"Ahh!" The Professor felt his pockets, beaming happily as he located the object he was looking for. "I have a small mag lite which should help shed some light on this situation."

Doc frowns, they didn't have much choice. Heading slowly into the tunnel, the rifle took both of his hands to keep level and ready so he was reliant on one of these youngsters to hold the light steady.

Dave follows, clutching his shotgun by the stock, flashlight in hand.
Management:
Professor has rolled an Deja view - I've seen this before roll (2 dice), getting 3, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has failed the roll.
Management:
Doc has rolled an navigating the maze roll (4 dice), getting 10, 4, 6, 8, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.

Management:
Dave Ellis has rolled 5 dice, getting 6, 5, 8, 5, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Dave Ellis has 1 success.

Storyteller
It is now clear that the hunters have entered a tangled, claustrophobic maze of dirt-walled tunnels beneath the farm compound. Twice the three men started into a tunnel only to realize that it is as silent as a tomb, Potter is clearly not within it.
Once, the Professor was startled to find that he'd somehow gotten turned around and was completely alone in the tunnel! He was alarmed to discover something touching his foot- and it turned out to only be a normal rat, scurrying through the darkness. A few panicked steps connected him to the proper tunnel and reunited him with Doc and Dave, who seem to be making progress forward.

However the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up- the demons can be heard in the tunnels, whispering and cackling. They seem to be milling about, at times doubling back. Perhaps the inhuman spawn are just as lost as you are. A cackle suddenly sounds behind you and you quicken your steps forward- and tumble out of the grimy darkness, free of the tunnels at last.


Here, the maze ends— the tunnel widens into an uneven chamber
lit by old, rusty lanterns hanging on hooks. Bricks have been shoved into the walls with little rhyme or reason, and in the center of the chamber is a kind of dais: a raised platform on wooden pallets and draped with moth-eaten red cloth.

In the center of this dais stands a small oil drum topped with a large board and velvet black cloth. Atop the black cloth is something that seems impossible: a severed head, the flesh pale and ashen. It is bloodless. The eyes roll back and
forth in the head as if suffering a seizure.

The mouth works soundlessly, as a fish’s does when flopping about on a dock. Occasionally a pale pink tongue worms out and tastes the air before sliding back beyond the lips, leaving a slimy trail of saliva in its wake.


Doc didn't rush. He sighted down the barrel at the thing making sure he has the center of the head absolutely targeted.

Professor:
Praying his actions didn't leave to something he might regret, the Professor approached the head and started to investigate it, drawn by morbid curiosity.

Management:
Professor has rolled an Getting Ahead in his Career roll (8 dice), getting 8, 6, 2, 5, 9, 4, 2, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 2 successes.

Doc:
"Don't get between me and it." Doc says softly not moving the gun.

The Professor made sure to approach the head from the side rather than straight on from where Doc was currently aiming.

Storyteller:
The head appears for all purposes to be dead. It has a revolting stench and has somehow been sealed along the severed neck. Yet for being dead, it moves!

Its moving its eyes now, turning those disgusting, wet eyes to you, the Professor! It's mouth moves... it appears to be talking, that tongue flicking in and out!

You are mortified by the severed but animated head.

"Get away from him!" Someone screams at the Professor.
It takes you a minute to realize that you are not alone- Potter has reached the chamber before you and is running towards the head and the Professor. His arms are outstretched and he is muttering under his breath. You can't hear all of it, but his tone is half reverence, half fanatical to the pitch where the intensity of his belief is frightening.

"I hear you, Washington," He insists as he nears the head and the Professor. "-I hear the whispered truth!"


Doc fires bringing his finger down slowly and firmly on the trigger.
Management:
Doc has rolled an shooting the head roll (8 dice), getting 4, 1, 10, 10, 6, 6, 8, 5, 8, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 4 successes.

Storyteller:
As Doc's bullet plunges into the soft flesh of the head, it begins to become more animated. In fact, it appears to become agitated!
"no!" Potter bellows, enraged. He redoubles his efforts to reach the head, now a finger's length from it.

By the mouth of the tunnel, Doc is suddenly struck by a mental wave of pain that transforms within his head. Doc stands triumphant in a shadowy, demon plagued world. He stands atop of a spire, back lighted by a fiery sunset. In his hand, he holds the head up high- he is triumphant over his foes!


Doc grimaces this wasn't right. This wasn't him, He glares at the head "No, I reject you. I reject you and everything you stand for." he growls at it. "You'll not corrupt me demon."

Storyteller:
(Whisper to Doc) "Demon?" A man's voice whispers within your head. "I am just a man. A simple, hard working man. It was this fool, Potter, who killed me. Who brought me here...'

Doc:
(Whisper to Storyteller) "Then Lie dead as men must. Walk not upon this earth nor touch those who live still." He Says firmly "And get the out of my way."

Storyteller:
(Whisper to Doc) "I can't. I'm bound here." The head laments. "Potter... I see what he's done. I see over all this farm. There are dead, here. Somehow.... I affect the dead."

Doc:
(Whisper to Storyteller, Doc) "Tell me no more lies beast of the pit, let me go." he growls closing his eyes and shutting out everything but memories of the tunnel and the need the greenhorns have for him.




==========================
Part 2
==========================
*************************
================================
----------------------------------





Professor:
The Professor turned, broken from his fascination by the sound of the gunshot. As Potter approached the Professor attempted to fend him off from reaching his target.
Management:
Professor has rolled an Oops you tripped roll (4 dice), getting 8, 1, 1, 1, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 1 success.

Storyteller:
Potter collides with the Professor, snarling bestially.
"You don't understand!" He snaps. "You're not worthy of him! Get out of my way, or else!"

Professor:
"Over my d- NOT A CHANCE!!!" The Professor quickly amended given the circumstances, refusing to let the deranged lunatic slip past him.

Storyteller:
"You can't shut me out, Doc."
A voice whispers, echoing along the chamber. "I see inside your head, I see your secret wants. You can't tell me no...."


Doc:
(Whisper to Storyteller) "I tell you no, no and thrice No. I will walk the line, I will stand and you will not touch those I protect." He Tosses the head away from himself in the dream "You have nothing with which to tempt me demon and I will accept nothing from the likes of you."


Storyteller:
(Whisper to Doc) "You try it, then." The voice whispers, dripping with menace. "You think you're all getting out of here alive? The dead will feast upon your bodies, your blood shall attract the demons of the dark. You think your Greenhorns can save you?"

Professor:
Struggling to keep Potter at bay, the Professor made do with the next best course of action... and turned on the head.
Management:
0 | 10/08/2009 2:47 pm Professor has rolled an Headshot! roll (9 dice), getting 4, 5, 10, 2, 10, 6, 3, 2, 7, 5, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 3 successes.

Doc:
(Whisper to Storyteller, Doc) "Maybe, maybe not." Doc Smiles "you think I do this expecting to survive?" He laughs loud "Send the forces of hell against me. I will hold the line."

Storyteller:
As the cane strikes the head, something plunges deep into Samuel's mind.

Its coercive, seductive.
The Professor stands surrounded by men, respected, honored among them. They are applauding him. Even the darkness seems cowed by him.

The Professor is distracted by the mystical connection and Potter wrests free, knocking the Professor from the head.

Reverently, Potter grips the head with both hands. Moments after, he’s changed— the color drains from his skin, his eyes turn profoundly bloodshot, he looks half like he’s an addict on a high and half like a crazed prophet hearing some kind of holy message direct from God’s Own Mouth.

Storyteller:
(Whisper to Doc) The head does not reply, the vision recedes. Its absence is tangible, you feel..abandoned. Forgotten as the head turns to more promising fruit.


Professor:
The Professor lashed out, his intent to make Potter drop the head.
Management:
Professor has rolled an Cane-Sword Slash! roll (4 dice), getting 8, 9, 3, 8, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 3 successes.

Doc takes a deep breath, That damn thing had been in his head. He hoped that it would burn. He takes the rifle back up and sights down it at potter, that head was something evil and if this man had given himself over to it it was time to send him to the end of the line.

Storyteller:
The head snarls and Potter pulls it away, shielding it behind his back. He strikes out at the Professor.

The Professor is stunned- from a half blind man who'd fled, weeping and crying, Potter suddenly seemed.... frightening to Samuel. Unafraid. Unnatural.
Management:
Storyteller has rolled an Grabbing Samuel roll (5 dice), getting 1, 6, 7, 9, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Storyteller has 1 success.
Storyteller:
Potter, the white skinned, blood shot Potter- snatched Samuel by his shirt and spun him around. He clutches Samuel in front of him, facing Doc.

"Take the shot, killer." Potter smiles, grotesquely.
"He protects me. You're friend will be mulch for the worms."


Doc advances moves his fingers of the trigger, reverses the rifle and brings the butt down hard on potter's shoulder.

Storyteller:
Blood begins to seep from the walls. The walls themselves are closing in on Doc, they are coming to destroy him. Potter... the head... it doesn't matter. He's going to die. Samuel is going to die. The blood gushes over floor, soaking through the hem of Doc's pants.

Potter snarls at the blow, his hand gripping Samuel tighter. He pulls Samuel back with him, away from Doc. Samuel sees no blood- after all, it is the Relic who is ensnaring Doc's mind.

"You will feed them," He whispers to you, Samuel, as he moves you away from Doc.
"The demons have come to witness the cleansing."

Professor:
Thanking small mercies that he had the presence of mind to not drop his cane-sword, Samuel threw all his weight on the blade's handle as he thrust it down upon Potter's right foot.

Management:
Professor has rolled an Foot Impaling roll (4 dice), getting 4, 1, 3, 3, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has failed the roll.

Doc ignores the blood, he'd always known that he would die standing on the line, If he ran he might live. If he fought there was an outside chance that the proffessor might survive. He wasn't going to just give up.

Storyteller:
The blood has somehow risen, this is the blood of dozens of people, if not more. Where could it have come from? You wonder about Chris and the children's safety as the warm, sticky blood covers your shoes.

Doc may be confused about the room, but he sees that Potter is dragging Samuel back, away from him. He watches Samuel attempt to free himself, the Potter- monster laughs. He simply laughs.

Glancing towards the door, Doc and Samuel see that Marsha, the crazy woman who'd attacked them when they'd been rendering first aid, has appeared, holding her wounded hand. She is smiling, enraptured.

"Paradise at last!" She exclaims.
"Paradise, yes my child!" The Potter Beast replies.
"Have you sent the others to Paradise?"

"Yes, but several children and Theodora have escaped. They are hiding in the Colonial with two of them."
She gestures to you.

"Food for the children of the maw.." Potter decides, muttering to himself. Samuel hears him talking to the head, telling it that now, he will awaken the Farm.
Professor:
With little options left to him, the Professor attempted his attack again before Marsha got close enough to disarm him.
Management:
0 | 10/08/2009 3:32 pm Professor has rolled an Foot Impale roll (4 dice), getting 7, 8, 5, 2, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Professor has 1 success.

Doc tries to slog on through the deepening blood. Those Kids were counting on him, The Greenhorns needed him. He had duties, He had responsibilities. He growled deep in his throat. The children were counting on him...
Management:
0 | 10/08/2009 3:33 pm Doc has rolled an Break-out! roll (6 dice), getting 3, 7, 1, 1, 9, 10, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.




Storyteller:
Doc slugs forward, although the walls are now pushing Marsha towards him. Even Potter and the Professor are coming nearer. Soon, they would be mashed together, a paste of blood and bone.
The Professor mashes Potter's foot. Potter swears and slaps the Professor on the back of the head, releasing him. To Doc, the Professor pitched forward to the ground and the blood enveloped him, covering him.
Then Doc blinked. The blood was receding. No, that wasn't right- the blood was- gone! The walls, they were all in their proper place!
In reality, the Professor fell to the ground before Potter, between Potter and Doc and Marsha.


The Professor let out an audible complaint of "Ow..."




====================
****************************
Part Three
****************************
==============================
----------------------------

Doc:
As the professor fell, Doc winced at the change in the landscape but brought the rifle up placeing a shot right into Potter's Center of mass.
Management:
0 | 10/08/2009 3:41 pm Doc has rolled an shooting the bad guy roll (6 dice), getting 3, 4, 8, 1, 2, 9, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.

Storyteller:
Potter stumbles, the shot has penetrated his chest cavity. He is a gory mess, a man certainly condemned to die.

Yet that blood shot eye and the one eye ruined by Samuel stare out at Doc coldly.

"You think to turn down his bounty?" He rasps. "You, who think yourself so much better than your fellow Hunters? You killed a Hunter tonight, let another be maimed."
He indicates Marsha.

"You are nothing but cold blooded murderers. You don't deserve a place in paradise."

He begins to rasp, the speech has clearly taxed him. Blood flecks on his lips.

"Behold, Paradise."
He manages, a mere croak as he caresses the head. Potter pitches forward, slumping on the ground. Bloody mess amasses on the ground as he coughs his last.

However, his deed is done! The heads mouth opens impossibly wide, it becomes more animated. A thunder clap rolls out, the stone and dirt cavern shudders. Your skin begins to crawl. Something unnatural is occurring!

Professor:
"Shoot it!" The Professor shouted to Doc, getting to his feet.


Doc:
"Hunters?" Doc roars against the unnatural feeling "You don't Deserve the name, Traiters do I name thee, and send thee to thy master" He yells firing right between the demons eye.


Management:
Doc has rolled an Smiting the Demon roll (9 dice), getting 8, 4, 7, 7, 2, 7, 2, 8, 4, with a difficulty of 8 on a 10 sided die. Doc has 2 successes.[/color]

Storyteller:
The head takes the final shot with a shudder, rolling across the floor. One has to run over and turn the head to see if the shot rang true.

The bullet pierced the skull of the head, causing all sorts of ochre and dead matter to spill forth from the head. The head is still, dead. The relic is dead.

The dead man's fingers twitch, a cold mockery of life powering the beast to lurch upwards.


It is clear that if Potter's dead form is rising, you have worse problems as you recall the scores of dead. The dead stacked like firewood alone in the doctor's hen house would be a murderous rampage! You have innocents to think of- Marsha has told you that Chris and Doctor Hollandale have taken in more survivors.

You hurry through the maze like tunnels, ignoring the snapping demons and the groans that promise the dead are on the move. Reaching the colonial, you discover that Chris and the Doctor have been joined by a woman wielding a broken shovel and four small children, all girls, in addition to the two you rescued One of them had swallowed the poison and can not walk.

A score of feeder demons circle the kitchen, snapping and rolling with murderous intent. You manage to kill one, maim another- they begin to bite you in earnest, tearing your flesh. A gun shot kills the one attacking you- there's another man, griefstricken from burrying his wife.

"Come on!" He encourages. "The Hernades brothers and I have started a tractor! "

You race outside to see a bloodied young man laid out on the tractor. You assist a young Mexican in hooking up a hay cart to the tractor. The children are placed within and the tractor lurches for the exit.

You keep pace beside the tractor, taking shots at the demons that dart in for the children. The zombies are harder to put down, but you can out run most of them.

Darting into the buildings, you hastily concoct a blaze that will hopefully consume the farm. As you do so, you come across two journals- the Doctor's journal detailing hunts that Dave had found and a journal up in a hay loft.

You discover a pregnant woman there who, as you assist her to safety, tells the tale of the Farm.


This is what you surmise from the pregnant woman, Annie Singleton:

The cult doesn’t really think of itself as a cult, but then, few do. They don’t have a name. They aren’t the “Golden Temple of the Black Moon” or anything. They simply think of themselves as the residents of Blackmoon Farm. (The few outsiders who know about the farm-based compound sometimes refer to the cultists snidely as “Mooners” or “Black- mooners,” but those terms are never used within the cult itself.)
Once, these cultists comprised a large cell of hunters that withdrew from the Vigil. Their philosophy was, “We cannot win this war, so let’s walk off the battlefield.” Their growth was organic: They gathered. They built a small community of about fifty people, raised some livestock, grew some vegetables. They became increasingly insular as they can over the years, even bringing a doctor onto the premises. Once in a blue moon, one of the cultists leaves the farm and heads into the city to buy groceries or gasoline or antibiotics, but they don’t dawdle. They all agree that the world is a bad
place, and the city is the perfect representation of the sickness: a canker sore revealing a deep infection. When the opportunity arises to recruit, they do so, often hoping to draw in those hunters who have grown weary of the Vigil and see it as a never-ending, impossible battle.
Time and isolation are not kind to the cult, however. Their leader, Calvin Earl Potter, may not think he’s the second (or third, or fourth) coming of Christ, but he’s grown to think of himself as an earthly savior.
The cultists buy into the idea, and actually help fuel it—most of them have willingly given their lives over to him and his supposed “wisdom.” His ego grows, as does his paranoia. He soon discourages questions of any sort, and not long after that, he makes the act punishable—children
(and yes, they have children) who ask questions are locked away in a galvanized grain bin. Adults who ask questions are punished with a searing brand upon the backs of their hands—a puffy ‘X’ that all can see.
Any kind of dissension earns punishment. Potter says it’s for the people’s protection—if they stray behind the safety of the farm, and become seduced by the poison promises of the outside world, they will be lost.
As the years pass, Potter begins a twist on the old message: no longer is this a safe utopia, he says. The world is rotted. The monsters are an ever-present contagion—vampires and werewolves spread their disease by bite, witches can wind a man’s soul around their fingers, demons can crawl up inside your ribcage and nestle close to the heart. Soon, they’ll
come. Potter starts imagining—or inventing—details of a monstrous invasion. The armies of the night will come, he says, and he has proof. It’s time, Potter says, to move onto a place where the monsters cannot
touch them. He claims it’s time to move to the next world. A place of safety and sanity, tucked away in the warm embrace of death itself.
Suicide, he says, is painless.



Doc shook his head, a coward and a traitor. He didn't speak to those they'd rescued at least not about their erstwhile leader. He doesn't look back, other than where neccessary, at the farm. It was a fate he hoped he'd never face.

He watched the children. then looked to the green... Nah, they'd earnt the term. He looked to the other Hunters. They'd do. Maybe he'd keep an eye on them for a little longer after all.