While it was only this morning that we lost Collin, the package and possibly even Cole, so much more has happened. We drove the truck back to the Speakeasy but it seemed the police were raiding the joint - looks like Collin's luck ran out in both ways on the same night. Unfortunately for the police, they'll never find McCloud. We dropped the truck off around the corner and walked back to Ringo's place where we slept until midmorning.
Determined to track down the package, we hit the library to locate a map of the nearby docks on the way back to Boston Harbor. While we noted that the nearest large ports were Lawrence, Danvers and finally Kingsport, we were startled by Professor Von Buren - an adjunct at Arkham and acquaintance of Ringo. He apparantly had heard about our search for Professor Dunham and was surprised we hadn't checked his seaside estate in Kingsport. He agreed to head out there with us (I could certainly use a visit back home). Our trip first to Lawrence was unproductive but at Danvers, we had to grease some palms to learn that a boat passed by twice last night (once up river and once back down) - the witness claimed the ship was weighted down in the water and he heard the sounds of screaming on board. Further along the way to Kingsport, we noticed a small private dock in Beverly with something clearly off in the river. We rowed out to the crate and confirmed it appeared to be our crate, but it was sunk into the muck and impossible for us to move. It radiated steam because it was so clearly cold that ice was literally spreading from around it! God, Ice, I can't stand the sight of it anymore. Just the thought of it is terrifying. We decided that we would need a bigger boat to extract the crate. We headed to Kingsport and followed the directions of Von Buren to Dunham's cottage.
Up the cliffside, the small cottage had a spectacular view of the harbor but no sign of Dunham. Naturally we entered anyway, found his office filled with books of various contents about Indian weapons - Ringo noticed that the books were hiding a strange piece of wood with an eyehole - it actually seemed to be giving off a static-like energy to the touch. Looking through the eyehole seemed to distort things - Ringo looked up at the overcast skies and could see stars and constellations - clear as night! It seems like Von Buren may now have no choice but to believe our fanciful stories now. I located Dunham's journal and it included pages of incessant babble about time and realities! In the midst of the writings, Dunham mentions the Icy Wind!
We drove to rent a boat from an old acquaintance, Aaron Knox. After some effort, he and his boat hands extracted the crate and dragged it back to load it on Ringo's truck. It was etched with strange writings that I am sure are familiar from the book. I am convinced they indicated something about protection but I fear they are keeping the outside out rather than the inside in. I studied the runes through the lens of this new artifact, and they vanished! I am starting to believe that perhaps this artifact allows you to see things in different times and realities - Dunham seemed convinced that time and realities are different - that events don't happen in the order we believe they do - time travel seems possible in his eyes.
The crate, still radiating horrifying cold, dragged down the truck and allowed us to notice that we were being followed. We pulled over and let the tail keep going. Nothing is surprising at this point, but rather than go back to the cottage, we drove to my home. We didn't want anyone following us to know about the cottage just in case. In the driveway of my place, Ringo used his crowbar to open the crate! A huge block of melting ice contained a creature beyond description. I knew immediately we were in trouble. It was a Kor Dral Kay - a terrestrial beast of evil power. They worship this Icy Wind and are extremely powerful - even more frightening, this one was but a young form.
Acting without hesitation, Ringo fired two shots into the head of the beast- smearing its essence all over the truck bed. I risked looking through the artifact at the creature's remains - and it is clear the creature is coming back for us - biding its time but it will be back!
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Thursday September 23rd
Its the early morning hours of Thursday and we have seen the unspeakable and lost Collin to the darkness. Max is still not safe. We just dropped him off at Danvers General Hospital with a severe bullet wound. His likelihood of survival seems low. Tuesday we spent the evening scouting out the docks to discern the best approach when Cole's package arrived the next night. While planning and reconnoitering, we were spotted and moved on by the police. Although only one officer approached our vehicle, Chuck was sure he spotted several more figures skulking among the trees lining the road.
Collin called his contact at the docks and arranged for a delivery truck and us to be smuggled into the Thompson building basement where we intended to stay until the Meridian arrived with the anticipated cargo. Once inside Wednesday afternoon, we took the time to clear our sight lines from the basement windows as well as clear paths along the floor to allow for movement without much light. Although a vehicle arrived after dark, it left shortly afterwards only to be replaced perhaps a quarter hour later with two vehicles. They pulled up alongside the western side of the warehouse. While I was unable to see anything from my vantage point, I could hear footsteps above from one of them - perhaps checking out the warehouse. I crept up the rear stairs to listen at the door and was nearly caught by an approaching form at the door.
A ship arrived perhaps fifteen minutes later and after a time, I heard the scuffle of figures and the shouts of "ambush" from above. I quickly opened the door and rushed towards Ringo and a figure fallen on the floor. Although Ringo was standing over him with a crowbar, I intended to somehow stop the shouting. Gunfire blasted from the front of the docks, filling the air around me. Without thinking, I launched into the arcane words I learned from the Book, my hand glowing black and almost leaving a shadow in its wake, I reached out and grasped the man's right leg. He buckled over in pain and shock, flailing and shouting. Although drained initially, I soon felt empowered and energized as never before. Gun fire erupted from other parts of the building - I ran across the width of the building to peer through the closed double wide doors. Across the way, Terry Cole stood clear as day waving his hands and summoning a creature beyond description. Although my reaction was overpowering and before I knew it, I was in full retreat, the creature most closely resembled an amorphous blob, multiple eyestalks, bubbling and pulsing and an enormous maw.
The next memory I have is gasping for air, leaning against the music shop in downtown Arkham. In my horror, I had fled nearly a quarter mile into town. Desperate to help my friends, I made my way back as quickly as possible. By the time, I returned, Chuck was all but carrying Max around, while Collin was nowhere to be found. Ringo apparently shot and killed Cole, the blob creature was no longer in sight and the boat was turning back down river. With sirens approaching in the background, we loaded into the delivery truck and drove away as quickly as possible. Chuck was ominously quiet about the experience, so Ringo and I decided to take Max to a hospital outside of Arkham and drop him off for treatment.
Now driving around we need to decide whether keeping the package out of Cole's possession was enough or whether to acquire the package ought to be our next step. I think we should be able to contact the nearest docks down river and learn if the Meridian docked and dropped off cargo. Hopefully we can figure out what Collin lost his life for.
Collin called his contact at the docks and arranged for a delivery truck and us to be smuggled into the Thompson building basement where we intended to stay until the Meridian arrived with the anticipated cargo. Once inside Wednesday afternoon, we took the time to clear our sight lines from the basement windows as well as clear paths along the floor to allow for movement without much light. Although a vehicle arrived after dark, it left shortly afterwards only to be replaced perhaps a quarter hour later with two vehicles. They pulled up alongside the western side of the warehouse. While I was unable to see anything from my vantage point, I could hear footsteps above from one of them - perhaps checking out the warehouse. I crept up the rear stairs to listen at the door and was nearly caught by an approaching form at the door.
A ship arrived perhaps fifteen minutes later and after a time, I heard the scuffle of figures and the shouts of "ambush" from above. I quickly opened the door and rushed towards Ringo and a figure fallen on the floor. Although Ringo was standing over him with a crowbar, I intended to somehow stop the shouting. Gunfire blasted from the front of the docks, filling the air around me. Without thinking, I launched into the arcane words I learned from the Book, my hand glowing black and almost leaving a shadow in its wake, I reached out and grasped the man's right leg. He buckled over in pain and shock, flailing and shouting. Although drained initially, I soon felt empowered and energized as never before. Gun fire erupted from other parts of the building - I ran across the width of the building to peer through the closed double wide doors. Across the way, Terry Cole stood clear as day waving his hands and summoning a creature beyond description. Although my reaction was overpowering and before I knew it, I was in full retreat, the creature most closely resembled an amorphous blob, multiple eyestalks, bubbling and pulsing and an enormous maw.
The next memory I have is gasping for air, leaning against the music shop in downtown Arkham. In my horror, I had fled nearly a quarter mile into town. Desperate to help my friends, I made my way back as quickly as possible. By the time, I returned, Chuck was all but carrying Max around, while Collin was nowhere to be found. Ringo apparently shot and killed Cole, the blob creature was no longer in sight and the boat was turning back down river. With sirens approaching in the background, we loaded into the delivery truck and drove away as quickly as possible. Chuck was ominously quiet about the experience, so Ringo and I decided to take Max to a hospital outside of Arkham and drop him off for treatment.
Now driving around we need to decide whether keeping the package out of Cole's possession was enough or whether to acquire the package ought to be our next step. I think we should be able to contact the nearest docks down river and learn if the Meridian docked and dropped off cargo. Hopefully we can figure out what Collin lost his life for.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Tuesday September 21st
Its 6:30 PM and we are about to to check out the docks along Miskatonic River to get the lay of the land before Cole arrives there tomorrow evening. Collin's contacts seem to indicate he will be on site to receive a crated package. Hopefully we can plan well enough to do something about it and learn even more.
As I say that they past several days have been eye opening for all of us. That book has consumed my thoughts - it seems to have a life of its own. Its power borders on sentience. Yesterday, while reading, I left the room to refill my tea to find the book missing. Several minutes of looking everywhere, the book turned up locked in the truck of my car. I have no memory of putting it there and I swear when I opened the trunk, the book seemed to be ever so briefly undulating!! Later that night, my dreams were filled with images of trees, connected beneath the earth by their roots over great distances. They actually murmured to each other in what had to be a language. The skies tore open and something horrifying pushed me into consciousness. Finally, today, I finished reading the book and I can only say that its contents are both terrifying and ominous. Although written by a madman, its contents, when carefully studied, focus mostly around a Native American deity called Ithaqua - sometiems called "cold" or "icy wind". It discusses transporting things over planes - I can only imagine that must mean other planets or perhaps stars. It speaks of different types of vessels - one uesd as a medium in sacrificial rites and the other used as a focus for summoning something into. The most unfathomable part of it all is that I believe with the right focus, I could perhaps perform much of what Goodrich did.
My God! I had nearly forgotten to write about Goodrich! On Sunday, Max discovered a brief article in the Acton Gazette that spoke of an attempted robbery at the tailor's shop. In the article, it contained quotes from Goodrich himself! We put three close up shots in his head and he's still alive. He is far more powerful than we had assumed. We are in grave danger since he now knows us and has seen us.
On Monday, after losing and recovering that infernal book, we decided to await Ed Kelly's weekly visit to the speakeasy. We had planned to scare him and use him to get to Salvatore Ricci - perhaps create some dissension in the ranks of the Hand. It went awry fairly quickly. We escorted him to the back where Max was waiting. His arm seems to have taken on inhuman properties - it seems to be regrowing but not the whole arm...just the veins. When Max agitated them, the lashed out tentacle like and latched onto his own back. All this as Kelly and his unknown friend came through the door. He shouted that Max was a vessel and to destroy it immediately. To this, I am still confused. I have since learned that vessels seem to be something the Hand wants, but if Kelly is part of the Hand, why would he want it destroyed?? Nevertheless we will not learn the answer from Kelly or his friend. Both were killed in the ensuing violence. Max was most troubled by the revelation and is considering even now that he only has days left.
Perhaps the power of True Magic can restore his arm and reverse whatever curse has turned him into Kelly's aforementioned vessel?
As I say that they past several days have been eye opening for all of us. That book has consumed my thoughts - it seems to have a life of its own. Its power borders on sentience. Yesterday, while reading, I left the room to refill my tea to find the book missing. Several minutes of looking everywhere, the book turned up locked in the truck of my car. I have no memory of putting it there and I swear when I opened the trunk, the book seemed to be ever so briefly undulating!! Later that night, my dreams were filled with images of trees, connected beneath the earth by their roots over great distances. They actually murmured to each other in what had to be a language. The skies tore open and something horrifying pushed me into consciousness. Finally, today, I finished reading the book and I can only say that its contents are both terrifying and ominous. Although written by a madman, its contents, when carefully studied, focus mostly around a Native American deity called Ithaqua - sometiems called "cold" or "icy wind". It discusses transporting things over planes - I can only imagine that must mean other planets or perhaps stars. It speaks of different types of vessels - one uesd as a medium in sacrificial rites and the other used as a focus for summoning something into. The most unfathomable part of it all is that I believe with the right focus, I could perhaps perform much of what Goodrich did.
My God! I had nearly forgotten to write about Goodrich! On Sunday, Max discovered a brief article in the Acton Gazette that spoke of an attempted robbery at the tailor's shop. In the article, it contained quotes from Goodrich himself! We put three close up shots in his head and he's still alive. He is far more powerful than we had assumed. We are in grave danger since he now knows us and has seen us.
On Monday, after losing and recovering that infernal book, we decided to await Ed Kelly's weekly visit to the speakeasy. We had planned to scare him and use him to get to Salvatore Ricci - perhaps create some dissension in the ranks of the Hand. It went awry fairly quickly. We escorted him to the back where Max was waiting. His arm seems to have taken on inhuman properties - it seems to be regrowing but not the whole arm...just the veins. When Max agitated them, the lashed out tentacle like and latched onto his own back. All this as Kelly and his unknown friend came through the door. He shouted that Max was a vessel and to destroy it immediately. To this, I am still confused. I have since learned that vessels seem to be something the Hand wants, but if Kelly is part of the Hand, why would he want it destroyed?? Nevertheless we will not learn the answer from Kelly or his friend. Both were killed in the ensuing violence. Max was most troubled by the revelation and is considering even now that he only has days left.
Perhaps the power of True Magic can restore his arm and reverse whatever curse has turned him into Kelly's aforementioned vessel?
Friday, February 3, 2012
Sunday September 19th
Its been several days since I last wrote and, with the help of Mr. Young and our own research, I feel like we are finally starting to see the light - as frightening as it is to look at. I can see why so many have warned us to turn away but now it seems we can't. After spending time reading this arcane book, I am troubled by the connections to our affairs and the references to strange Native American deities. Oddly, I always feel profoundly tired after reading but driven to push on. I am still not ready to fully disclose the contents to my friends until I have a greater understanding of its power.
Chuck, Ringo and Collin returned from their meeting with Wilbur in the forest and evidently the poor chap intends to help us now that his wife is lost. Intending to meet up with him at another time, I spent the days reading and looking into the disappearance of Ms. Helen Dutton - one of those mentioned in Ward's initial packet of safe materials. The reliable Arkham Library held a newspaper article that indicated her body had been stolen after burial and Collin's connections indicated that Edward Kelly (son of Senator Kelly) may have dragged the body to Townsend and the police just simply stopped looking when Kelly was connected. Young later confirmed that Kelly was in fact a ranking member of the Black Hand. Chuck followed up on the whereabouts of the artifact but learned little beyond the name of Dunham's assistant professor - Thomas Brighton currently on sabbatical in South America. Brighton likely knows what happened to the artifact but without the ability to contact him, it seems a dead end. We have always assumed the artifact is being pursued by the Hand but perhaps they already have it. That night, Young failed to show up at the rendezvous point in the forest.
Further research the next day revealed that the Black Hand is several centuries old, originated in Britain and has a midatlantic chapter as well. This makes sense with all the references to the Roanoke Colony and the pictures of trees. Max, while looking into information on Native American weaponry, found nothing that indicated knowledge of this cudgel artifact but passing references to ceremonial rods etc. Later, Young arrived at the meeting place in the library, we secured a study corral on the fifth floor and our eyes were opened further.
Young recognized Dutton as another vessel sacrificed to what he called "the Cold Wind" - it is apparently common to sacrifice women to the Wind since they put up more of a resistance and are therefore pleasing. We mentioned the telegram from Cavendish and Young immediately identified him as a leader of the Hand and "not human". I shudder even writing such words. Even a week ago that seemed unfathomable but after what I have seen and read, I find myself able to believe without hesitation. Young told us that the trees could be used as "doors" to bring in the Cold Wind. We have to destroy these trees. We agreed to meet again next Saturday.
Desiring to follow up on the Goodrich's shop in case we missed something while running out, we drove back to Acton and decided to visit the diner across the way before venturing right into the shop's rear door. Unfortunately, it was clear very quickly that members of the diner staff recognized us and we were forced to leave as quickly as possible. We drove back to Arkham and are finally planning a night of rest since it is already the early morning hours of Sunday. Tomorrow/Today I intend to spend more time with this book. Maybe it will start to make some of these pieces make sense.
Chuck, Ringo and Collin returned from their meeting with Wilbur in the forest and evidently the poor chap intends to help us now that his wife is lost. Intending to meet up with him at another time, I spent the days reading and looking into the disappearance of Ms. Helen Dutton - one of those mentioned in Ward's initial packet of safe materials. The reliable Arkham Library held a newspaper article that indicated her body had been stolen after burial and Collin's connections indicated that Edward Kelly (son of Senator Kelly) may have dragged the body to Townsend and the police just simply stopped looking when Kelly was connected. Young later confirmed that Kelly was in fact a ranking member of the Black Hand. Chuck followed up on the whereabouts of the artifact but learned little beyond the name of Dunham's assistant professor - Thomas Brighton currently on sabbatical in South America. Brighton likely knows what happened to the artifact but without the ability to contact him, it seems a dead end. We have always assumed the artifact is being pursued by the Hand but perhaps they already have it. That night, Young failed to show up at the rendezvous point in the forest.
Further research the next day revealed that the Black Hand is several centuries old, originated in Britain and has a midatlantic chapter as well. This makes sense with all the references to the Roanoke Colony and the pictures of trees. Max, while looking into information on Native American weaponry, found nothing that indicated knowledge of this cudgel artifact but passing references to ceremonial rods etc. Later, Young arrived at the meeting place in the library, we secured a study corral on the fifth floor and our eyes were opened further.
Young recognized Dutton as another vessel sacrificed to what he called "the Cold Wind" - it is apparently common to sacrifice women to the Wind since they put up more of a resistance and are therefore pleasing. We mentioned the telegram from Cavendish and Young immediately identified him as a leader of the Hand and "not human". I shudder even writing such words. Even a week ago that seemed unfathomable but after what I have seen and read, I find myself able to believe without hesitation. Young told us that the trees could be used as "doors" to bring in the Cold Wind. We have to destroy these trees. We agreed to meet again next Saturday.
Desiring to follow up on the Goodrich's shop in case we missed something while running out, we drove back to Acton and decided to visit the diner across the way before venturing right into the shop's rear door. Unfortunately, it was clear very quickly that members of the diner staff recognized us and we were forced to leave as quickly as possible. We drove back to Arkham and are finally planning a night of rest since it is already the early morning hours of Sunday. Tomorrow/Today I intend to spend more time with this book. Maybe it will start to make some of these pieces make sense.
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