Gameplay 1 - Red Vengeance

near Devon, England

We begin out story at a fork in the road, where both roads lead by different routes to Torkertown, your destination. Strangers meet and you know that you have been brought together by a mysterious force that speaks to you by dreams pointing you to Torkertown. As if compelled by fate, you each discover that you have all encountered the wanderer Solomon Kane, and from that time a new path for your lives began.

I'd like each of you to:
- introduce yourselves, and tell the others a little about your character.
- tell how you crossed Kane's path and what happened since

A couple of notes:
- Some of you may have been saved by Kane, or hunted by him and given a chance to attone for your sins
- You may have resisted the call of the dreams, and suffered terrible night terrors until you finally relented

Lastly, as I write this, only one character has been submitted, but feel free to post as if you had. Indeed, it may assist you in developing your character.

Gerald Eskot was born at home, in a small, poor village, 20 miles from Devon, England. The youngest of 4 siblings he was left with the ugly genes. His mother took off leaving him to be raised by his father who was a ne'er do well, picking up odd jobs, barely keeping food on the table. He was always hungry, stealing bits of food when the opportunity arose. It wasn't too long before Gerald ran off to a nearby village that had more to steal. He came to the attention of the local thieves guild and thus began his career in thievery.

On the way to a solo job he was cornered by a huge serpent. He fought as long as he could. Having lost an ear and a finger to the serpent, he presumed his life was next when suddenly a tall figure intervened. This man had a presence and immense power, and deftly overcame the serpent. Gerald, on the brink of death, was saved, and awestruck, and forever grateful to the man he came to know as Solomon Kane. As Solomon tended to his wounds, Gerald became inspired by Solomon's tales of adventure, battles and good deeds and was resolved to change his ways.

Soon after this incident, the spirit N'Longa appeared to Gerald in a dream, urging him to travel to Devon. Gerald felt that this dream was somehow related to Solomon Kane, so he trekked willingly to Devon.

Praise God was born to Charity and Geoffrey Waterston in December 1596 in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire. His father, a prominent speaker and minister in the burgeoning puritan movement had a tremendous influence on Praise God, who became vehemently anti-Roman Catholic at a very early age. His father had been threatened on more than one occasion for speaking out against the newly crowned Stuarts and was even rumored to have spoken favorably (in private company, of course) of the vile Catholic Guy Fawkes, simply due to the latter's similar hatred for the regime.

Praise God had contemplated following his father to Christ's College, Cambridge and from then to the ministry, but his father's arrest and subsequent death in the prisons of Northampton put those plans on hold. Praise God has since sworn revenge on Louis Upnor, magistrate of Northampton and who he believes is responsible for his fathers death.

Praise God took to publishing his father's sermons and speaking in public squares against the Catholic church and the Stuarts (who he never called out by name, for fear of being the same target his father was). It was after one of these particularly rousing speeches that he was approached by Soloman Kane, who promised Praise God that he could present him with true evil to slay. The somber wanderer had a magnetic personality, and Praise God - almost trance-like - dropped his ambitions and set-off for Devonshire in the far Southwest of England, to see what awaited him there.

Ataan felt the jostling stop as he looked up and out the back, he had arrived. England's roads between cities were mostly just dirt tracks but he opted to remain quite about it. Getting up and grabbing his meager possessions he found himself finally in Devon proper loking around like someone from the country. From what he was told he would consider this an old city of England. Mining still happening but this was all new to him. He had spent his time in Turkish countryside for too long but once his mother had died and the dreams started he heeded the call from fate. With a Turkish father soldier to the British Empire lost at war he didn't have a lot of faith in people seeing him as nothing more then a foreigner and possibly a troublemaker from his lanky build.

His jaw set as he recalled hearing the moans that night Kane had come. He woke and went to his mother's room thinking her possibly ill from the moaning and wails in the night. The thing on her chest the look of being alive but dead inside still etched on the back of his eyelids. The foul man beast chittering along as he shook her upper torso. He can still hear the crisp sound of boots moving into the room past him and the reaction from the monster of nightmares. The man made short work of the creature until it's limp body fluttered and turned to ash leaving only the aftermath of it's actions behind. Ataan was much younger then and not as jaded as now. A Bastı, he believed it was called, a goblin spirit that plagued people riding them as it induced horrific nightmares feeding off the negative energy until the victim was driven insane. Kane had seen him and saw the innerturmoil giving him the option, be bitter and wallow in what could have been done or learn how to do something useful. While he never though he'd be able to do what Kane did he was clever and these past almost two decades had given him tools to help others kill what he could not. He didn't want other children to become orphans as well due to his still hands and unmoving feet. He moved with purpose trying to get where he was going.

Ataan frowned he only figured out he had to get to the City of Devon... once here he had little inclination on where to exactly go. He moved looking for shelter to sort out his thoughts and come up with a plan of attack on finding out why he was lead here.

Cecily Meldrum lived a quiet peaceful life with her husband Andrew, and the two loved each other very much. They were bakers by trade, and in fact owned a small bakery shop which helped support them for many years; they never went hungry and could occasionally afford a luxury or two which struck their fancy. But beneath this quaint lifestyle hid a secret they kept from all but the most trusted of individuals: they were aspiring cultists. Any opportunity they could get their hands on a forbidden book, text, even remains of a sorcerer was taken, for whatever knowledge or power was hidden away would be theirs for the taking.

Despite their best efforts, the Meldrum's endeavors left a footprint which would haunt them. They received a letter from a secretive and rather affluent group of individuals who shared their unique interests, and invited them to a secluded manor where everyone would witness "true power". Ecstatic at such an offer the two happily went along, claiming to be "going on a small countryside vacation, should be back in a few days" so as not to arouse suspicion. This marked a turning point in Cecily's life, for the two of them were not meant to be members, but sacrifices instead. Her husband went first, stabbed through the heart while Cecily was powerless to stop. When it was her turn she could hear the sound of fighting and gunfire, the sight of a mysterious stranger fighting off the cultists slowly coming into view. Hope renewed Cecily tried to struggle, kicking over candles and smearing glyphs written in chalk. This didn't stop the knife from plunging into her body, but instead of the sharp pain she was expecting a terrible frigid coldness consumed her body, like she was plunged into the depths of an icy sea.

The next thing she remembers is waking up in the manor, everyone dead except her and the stranger who was simply staring at her. He looked conflicted, as if he was about to decide whether she should live or die. These thoughts terrified Cecily a great deal, so she begged and pleaded with the man to show mercy, knowing full well she was about to reap what was sowed. But the man surprised her instead, sparing her life despite her wicked dealings. "I will return to you someday." Was all he said before leaving, perhaps still considering whether this was truly the wisest choice for her. It wasn't until some time later in the back of a dimly lit tavern she learned the legends of this man: Solomon Kane.

In time Cecily realized the ritual had an unexpected side effect, one Solomon must've saw in her: a devil had possesed her. Spells which were incomprensible before became second nature, she could hear terrifying voices, and her mind was not always her own. She learned to control this gift, for the stake was all that would await a devil such as herself. In the back of her mind Solomom's promise was always there, reminding her what would happen should she decide to walk a darker path.

Imagine her surprise when it was Solomon who needed her aid. She did not hesitate to venture to Torkerton when the visions came to her, be it devil, angel, or some other creature, she had a debt to repay.

Having met at the fork in the road, as your stories spill out of you and cement your bond together, you all follow the road to Torkertown.

The wanderers enter Torkertown late one winter’s afternoon in search of an inn. The road they have been following leads them past the graveyard, where a funeral is taking place. Several dozen mourners are standing beside an open grave while the priest reads a funeral mass.

Make a Notice check please. If you have the Notice skill, roll the die plus a Wild die (an extra d6), and your result will be the better of the two results. If you are unskilled in Notice, roll both a 1d4 and a d6 Wild die, and subtract 2 from the better. Remember to click the Reroll Aces check box as these dice explode. Your TN is always 4.

The village is similar to countless others across England, and indeed Europe. At the center of the village is the green, an open area of grass on which the local markets and fairs are held. This is common ground, and when not in use by the villagers it is used to graze sheep. A gallows stands sentinel over the green, a reminder to all that justice, even in these days of rising banditry and rumored witchcraft, will be served.

Across one side of the green stands the church, an imposing stone-built structure dating back to the Normans, encompassed by a low stone wall, within the grounds of which lie the graves of Torkertown’s citizens. Though once Catholic, the church has been rededicated as a Protestant place of worship.

Beside the church is the manor house, owned by the squire, a rich landowner who is landlord to most of the populace. As befits his post, he is also the local magistrate. To the other side of the green is the local coaching inn, The Lamb. Situated on the London road, Torkertown has a steady influx of merchants and travelers.

Most of the common houses are low, stone-built cottages with thatched roofs, or timber structures with wattle and daub walls. The occupants are a mixture of crafters and tenant farmers, tilling the land of the squire or the Church-owned lands.

On the boundaries of the village are the sprawling farmhouses, some owned by the squire and run by tenant farmers, others are owned by the church, and a few independent of either authority. Beyond these are the crop and grazing fields. Like many settlements, there is an orchard in which grow apple and pear trees.

Making your way to the inn, it becomes obvious things are not right here. Beyond the church stand several small cottages, each with a freshly whitewashed cross on its door. A woman standing in the door of one crosses herself, and goes inside.

Across the village green, close to the inn, stands a large house. It is no doubt owned by someone of wealth and standing. Outside, a cart is being loaded with furniture while a woman dressed in black looks on with tear-filled eyes.

Before you know it, you have reached the door of the inn.

Ataan looks around as he goes.

Interesting looking place, Gerald thinks as he takes in the village and its inhabitants. His old self tells him there are some riches to be had here, especially in that fine looking manor house. But he is on a different road now, and those thoughts shall be banished.

Cecily finds this little town awfully bleak, looking about the place without interest save the mass grave and strange signs on the doorways.

The Lamb
The local inn, The Lamb, lies close to the church. The score of (all male) patrons inside sip their ale in silence, each with a worried look on his face.

What do you do?

Arriving at the silent inn full of sullen people, Gerald turns to one of the men. He doesn't want to address the question of the fresh graves directly so instead he asks, What ails this town good sir, that such a fine inn as this should be so quiet?

The man, wrapped up in his own ill humor, isn't immediately prone to share tidings with Gerald. Perhaps a Persuasion roll?

The bar keep looks at Felix dubiously, and says, "Cheap stuffs a £0.05. Want wine, that's £0.50."

"Fresh graves outside. Tragedy struck." Cecily says to her less perceptive companions, just loud enough for them and the barkeep to hear. Her expression remains neutral, not wanting to create any unnecessary anger from a stranger such as herself.

"Make it two." Cecily flips a few coins onto the counter, taking a position next to Felix.

Gerald takes the group aside and says in a low voice, Perhaps someone can be persuaded to let us know what's going on. I am not the person for the job. Just look at me. People would rather look away than at me. Anyone up for the task?

Whatever the issue, the bar keep isn't immediately forthcoming. Felix could make a Persuasion roll to get him to open up.

"Deaths," he answers unhelpfully. You can tell that the townsfolk are suspicious of something, and unwilling to easily open up.

"We are at the least intelligent enough to put that together we dont think you'd bury people still alive. Could you be more specific, I or we might be of assistance."

The bar keep grunts in a noncommittal manner, but leans close and says to those of you at the bar, "That be old John Prestwick, a merchant, they’re burying today. Died the night before last all sudden like, while walking back from this very inn. He was found in the street last morning, pale as a sheet."

"Uh Barkeep....was the man in good health? Or perhaps he just had too much to drink?"

The barkeep shrugs at your questions, unwilling and unlikely to answer. He does say, "You could ask about the village, I suppose. Maybe someone knows the answers to your odd questions."

Cecily resists the temptation to roll her eyes, turning around to survey the crowd for anyone with a reasonable amounts of wits about them.

"We shall ask, was the merchant local and did he have family in town?"

The barkeep doesn't answer, instead giving you dark looks. It is clear that the people in this town are spooked, and are suspicious of strangers.

If you want to approach some of the people in the inn, you can make another Persuasion check.

Altaan nods and shrugs before going to the closest person that makes eye contact with him.

"I've heard someone of your village has passed, these are trying times, they are dark I see, as someone not of this village I can understand the unwant of outsiders prying into such matter but even though that may be the case I would genuinely like to help and see if any ease to this can be given."

The table Ataan approaches takes him for his words, and explain a little: "Him dropping dead like that wasn’t natural. Folk are worried it might be the Plague, so they sent him on his way as quick as can be. The other graves belongs to James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake, God rest their souls. All died the same way as poor John. Very mysterious."

Another one suggests, "Folks in these parts be superstitious. They reckon the Devil walks this village."

"Well I have a bit of skill in Medicine, maybe I can find out what the bodies are like and come up with a cure if it is a disease... I guess I will be on the look out for the Devil as well to be sure my friends. You have my thanks. I am Ataan Sezen if you know of someone else stricken come find me and I will see what I can do."

The villagers grunt an acknowledgment but fall silent, dubious as to the faint hope provided.

You've exhausted the information available from the local dunks. Where to?

Ataan lets the others know what he's found out about the four lost souls and their blight.

"After finishing drinks since one shouldn't waste alcohol, maybe we go to cemetery and find out more from people there burying the dead..." Sezen offer up.

That might be an idea, but remember, if it is the plague, we are all at risk.

"True or it might be something much worse... They say the Devil walks the village, it might be lower case devil maybe but still we don't know till we find out yes?" Attan admits with a shrug.

Gerald shrugs back. "If we're being honest here, I'd rather it was the devil."

"You do not know what you are asking." Cecily speaks in a grave tone, eyes staring directly into Gerald's. "Shall we?" She turns to grasp her now empty mug, scooting it towards the barkeep.

"Maybe he doesn't know the devil may have it's own forms of pestilence to bring misfortune... No one likes dying helplessly unable to fight back, disease take the weak and the strong, the old to the young. But we do need to know more to come to an answer yes?" admits trying to keep a bit of the peace.

"My apologies, Ataan Sezen, I know a bit of medicine and looking into puzzles and situations that need keen eyes and deduction." Attan states a bit embarrassed that he forgot to introduce himself to the others.

"Yes, let us be off then," Praise God answers Cecily. He downs the last of his water - Praise God is a teetotaler like all good Puritans - and makes for the front door.

Where to?

"Men of the cloth, or of the grave? Perhaps you wish to find a physician Ataan?" Cecily observes the town with a neutral expression, keeping her emotions hidden for the time being.

"Yes and no, that would prove helpful but if the glem I'm more knowledgable they may grow silent..."

Gerald is pensive for a moment. I suppose we could go visit the houses with the crosses on the doors. We just have to keep asking. Someone is bound to give more info.

Ataan points at the woman, "She might be leaving soon though. We can always split up though." Ataan points out looking at himself and wipes down his coat before moving to the house where a possible widow is moving out.

The widow is clearly distraught. How do you approach her?

"Excuse me Madam but although you seem to be in grief I wish to ask you about the details behind your spouse's end. If I find a reason I am sure he will rest peacefully knowing no others will not such tragedy befall them." Ataan asks looking humble and apologetic.

The Widow takes Ataan in, and seems reluctant, but them just blurts out her tale.

Until a month last Sunday he was a rich man, then he lost his fortune. She found him dead at the bottom of his stairs. Magistrate said he fell, but some folk say he threw himself to his death.

The distraught Widow Ivens plans on leaving town in the morning to live with her sister in Bristol. She tells the heroes her husband was a merchant of some means, until he was cheated by Prestwick, Carter, Muchly, Drake, and a man named Alfred Dawlish.

The four of them persuaded her husband to join in a friendly card game. Over the next few months the stakes got higher and higher, and before Ivens realized it, he was bankrupt. Ivens later found out that his so-called friends had cheated, but when confronted they mocked him and told him to fetch the magistrate. Ivens knew that one word against five would not be considered proof. He pleaded with them to cancel his debt, but they refused.

His grieving widow does not know if her husband committed suicide or not, nor does she particularly care anymore. With a look of pure rage, she curses all four men whom she states caused her husband’s death.

She'll include any of you who are present which I assume is all of you

"Not to speak ill of the dead but I believe James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake are all dead Ma'am... John Prestwick was buried today. If they all died like Prestwick it was supposedly a horrific death with him pale with fright. I'm sorry for your lose but I'm sure your spouse would want you to be happy and remember him fondly... If you believe in such things he may have decided to handle affairs in his afterlife he could not before he passed. Hopefully if he's spirit is still around I hope he can move on. But I may be wrong, some further investigation might be needed, along with finding Alfred Dawlish." Ataan explains not knowing if she would take him seriously before looking at the others. Bit of a leap possibly but Sezen knew stranger things could happen. A dead man still had a reason to kill the living if they ruined his life.

"You didn't notice him carrying any new items or books around before his passing did you? A different behavior not like himself?" He adds.

The widow Ives shakes her head and waves you off then disappears back into her house, clearly overwrought by the experience.

Cecily remains deathly silent throughout the entire exchange, and isn't entirely surprised to find them back outside. At least they got some information. "...Could've gone better. Shall we try to learn more about the deceased? I wouldn't mind examining the bodies, assuming they haven't yet bloom."

This all very curious.

Gerald pauses to think a moment.

But let's not forget that we were all brought here for a reason. Perhaps that reason ties into what is going on here or perhaps not.

"Rightly so, most have been buried already, one is being buried and then there's Alfred Dawlish. So Mr. Prestwick's burial then off to see if Dawlish is still alive?"

Praise God scratches his head, "Doesn't sound terribly sinister; unfortunate, yes, but a man taking his life to avoid paying his debts is hardly unique." He pauses for a minute, thinking. "Let us check on the families of the other victims. While Pretwick's didn't seem particularly sinister, the number of dead does suggest something nefarious afoot. Perhaps they can help confirm or deny a pattern at work here, whether devilish or otherwise."

Four players, three plans, that's about right.

You have suggestions to:
1) Cecily wants to dig up corpses or maybe look for unburied dead. Might cause a stir
2) Ataan also wants to visit the funeral, then question the remaining person from the widows story
3) PGW wants to question the families

What do you do?

"So then, I leave to seek out families of the other victims. What say we meet back at The Lamb by sundown? Praise God raises his eyebrows expectantly, then departs from the Prestwick widow's doorstep to seek out James Carter's kin.

But wait!, Gerald says to Praise God. Allow me to accompany you. I don't think it wise that you go asking questions of the people by yourself, in their homes, especially since you might be asking some personal questions that they might take exception to.

Praise God smiles at Gerald's suggestion. "As the Divine Word says: 'Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.'" He clasps Gerald's shoulder and makes to depart.

Cecily chuckles at the mundane exchange, finding it humorous for some unknown reason. Regaining her composure she looks at Ataan expectantly. "Shall we?"

Ataan listens and watches Waterston and Eskot leave before shaking his head with a smirk.

"I guess we should..." Ataan states in agreement moving to the cemetery to see what they can before the body is buried.

Those going to the cemetary - Ataan, Cecily

The graves of the four recent burials are easy to find. The most recent being John Prestwick who you saw was being buried today. The other recent graves are marked James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake.

Ivens' grave is in the far corner of the churchyard, marked by a wooden cross with his name engraved on it. The ground is slowly growing over from the burial presumably about a month ago.

What do you want to do? The church is adjacent to the graveyard. The town will have a magistrate. You could accost more villagers.

---

To the Family of James Carter - Praise God, Eskot

Asking around the village for the location of the family of James Carter will require a Streetwise roll, given the skittishness of the locals.

Rollin'...

Off we go then. Let's see what we can find out.

Gerald and Praise GodYou begin questioning the townsfolk, looking for the Carter family, but you find out much more.

Cecily looks a bit disappointed at the scene, not that she was expecting some grand scene to play out in this sad sleepy village. "I seldom enjoy visiting a church of my own volition, however I believe today is an exception." She says while examining one of the graves, hoping Ataan will agree with her.

"They would know of such things hopefully not falling prey to rumors and heresay..." Ataan admits as well with a frown. He'll look to see if anyone is still around the gravesite of the newly buried today if they aren't done otherwise he'll head to the church after.

Cecily and Ataan see a few other people nearby, including a woman struggling with a smallish child. You immediately get the sense that the mother is trying to console her son that his daddy isn't coming home, and that he isn't suffering by being buried in his grave. There does seem to be some minor activity in the church.

Well...Praise God, it seems like we might have some vengeance killings taking place here. Don't you find it interesting that the men that probably drove the poor widow's husband to his death are now lying dead in the cemetery? And what's more, it would appear that they were all talking to the same cloaked figure before they died. I don't think the plague, or even the devil is at work here at all.

Gerald scratches the top of his head and pauses. I'm not sure where Alfred Dawlish fits into all this. He was not one of the men harassing the widow's husband. Perhaps he was involved in some other misdeeds and paid the ultimate price? And who is this cloaked figure. Is he the reason we are here?

"Excuse me madam... do you have a few minutes to talk about what happened to him." Ataan states a little apologetic to the mother slightly disappointed and envious of the child.

The child immediately quiets, fear in his eyes. The mother darts a glance at you, and shuffles the child behind her. "Who are you, sir?"

"Ataan Sezen, someone seeking the truth behind this death as well as several others that have recently happened."

Cecily appears from behind Ataan, her footsteps silent and voice calm. "And I am Cecily, his...partner."

She softens with your manners, and says, "I don't know nothin' about awl of that. Reverend Jeffrey Timothy, and Squire Hardwickle, the Magistrate, will nae more aboot it. It's just that John, me husband, he died in the street, found 'im pale as a sheet, yesterday morn. I dinnae know what to do, but we'll manage. Somehow."

"Pale...did they tell you if he suffered any wounds? Or a loss of blood?"

"Also how was his facial expression did look like he was asleep or in pain? Was the body limp like he feel asleep or constricted and scrunched up... My apologies if it sounds odd but since you found him it might give us an idea of clues as to what happened the officials may have overlooked." Attan adds in after Meldrum inquires about why he was possibly pale.

The woman suddenly has to deal with a screaming child. She says "I don't know any of that!" chases them down and drags them away.

"Guess I was too curious..." Ataan laments with a frown, "To Reverend Jeffrey Timothy, and Squire Hardwickle?" he finally comments looking to Meldrum.

Cecily rubs her temples, whether it's from the screaming kid or her disappointment is in the air. "The Reverend, although I am no longer holding my breath."

The reverend is the cloaked figure then Cecily?

"People can only tell us what they know and understand, sometimes not both." Ataan tries to offer up with a shrug as he begins the walk to the church.

At the church, you find the Reverend cleaning the place, replacing candles. He takes your note, and bids you welcome.

Cecily remains respectful, nodding to the Reverend as they approach.

"Good day Reverend, we are travelers who have noticed a tragedy has befallen this locale."

The reverend agrees, nodding his head with sad eyes. He looks like he wants to say more, but decorum keeps his tongue still.

---

What are Praise God and Gerald up to?

Cecily moves a step closer, looking behind for any bystanders. Once satisfied her voice lowers in volume as she continues. "We wish to help. You must know these occurrences are far from mundane."

Praise God and Gerald head to John Prestwick's house to speak to the widow.

After taking stock of the responses of the townfolk, Praise God turns to his companion, "I'm not sure how much more we can extract from the victims' families. What say we reconnect with the others to inform them of the hooded figure?"

I like that idea. Let's pool all the information we have collected.

The Church

The reverend is reluctant to say anything but he confesses that Ivens’ death may have been suicide, but without proof it was his duty to give him a Christian burial. Unfortunately, Ivens had lost his fortune and was given a pauper’s burial, attended only by his widow. He seems relieved to have unburdened himself of that weight but seems unwilling to say more, maintaining his suspicion of outsiders. Why? What has happened here?

"Agreed. Let us all seek the magistrate together."

"From what we've heard Iven had been cheated out of his fortune by John Prestwick, James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake, and Alfred Dawlish... while we can not say for sure if he was purposely cheated without proof confronting them about it only worsened the situation for him it seemed. You would know more than us if several of these other men died under odd circumstances... Although I understand as a priest your duties entail guiding the sould of the the deceased to rest. You also have an obligation to the living to steel their resolve and morality to see a pias state no? Alfred Dawlish is the only living person that had supposedly wronged Iven... Hypothetically should he prayer for mercy or come to you for a confession of possible sins to obsolve his soul if he's not long for this word as well. That said is there anything you would consider 'odd' about the bodies of the other men that have recently been buried? Were they all deathly pale as the last to be buried? Although we are outsiders the town is at unease, we only wish to find the truth to ease the people and see if there is a true danger to warn and ward off..." Ataan launches in a thick inquiry of the clergymen with ernest.

The priest tries to maintain his discretion and denies everything, but his reactions at Ataan's revelations give away too much. He finally admits sobbingly, "It's true! There must be a vampire in town. Each of the dead men you mentioned had multiple tiny puncture wounds! Oh Lord Oh God! I have no knowledge on how to combat such evil!" He weeps for the injustice and hopelessness of it all.

"Well I guess we'll see what we can do about that since they seem unwelcomed and uninvited." Ataan states.

One says the devil or a demon walks amongst them, a priest says it's a vampire... something isn't adding up for sure and even common folk get that... Ataan looks to his associate before back at the priest.

"Thank you for your time we'll take your incite into consideration, if we find something out on how to combat this evil and we're in need of your assistance in something you are knowledgeable and can assist with I hope we can trust in your assistance. We'll speak to the magistrate to see what's within the realm of travelers actions in this type of situation." Ataan states with a nod processing things.

Once outside he'll sigh and scratch his head before making his way to meet up with the rest.

You relate to each the clues you've obtained and head to meet the Magistrate.

Squire Hardwicke is the local magistrate. He openly tells the heroes that all four men died of liver failure from excessive consumption of alcoholic libations, though he professes not to be a medical man if questioned on his ability to diagnose cause of death.

Notice rolls of you want to discern if he's lying or if he sincerely believes that, Intimdation or Persuasion if you want to get more out of him.

Look here, how can you be so sure that they all died of liver failure? Don't you think it odd that they all went to their demise in exactly the same fashion?

Gerald doesn't take his eyes off the magistrate, looking for any kind of sign that he is being less than truthful.

"So Iven dies from killing himself after being cheated out of his fortune, or as the other men put it 'allegedly' when he wanted to challenge them but he had no physical proof. John Prestwick, James Carter, Thomas Muchly, and Nathaniel Drake have all died recently. Of liver complications but all with various states of age, drinking frequency, and type... plus the puncture wounds on all their necks besides Iven... I am a medical man... so this doesn't add up." Ataan state after some time.

"Some have said the devil walks your streets, someone in private thinks there's a vampire in these parts... We're here to help but we're going to try and find the truth to deal with it accordingly... The Devil is very different to deal with from a vampire btw. Help us restore the order and sense of ease to your people Sir." he adds pleaing to the man and his responsibilities.

Gerald and Ataan do both notice that the Magistrate is withholding information, but Ataan is certain that it more that he is hiding something.

With the Magistrate still in silence Ataan sighs, "Let us know what you know so we can help you and your people... before something else happens." he urges the man.

Unwilling to press it further, the magistrate says, "Each of the four recent bodies had dozens of small puncture marks all over them and seemed to be drained of blood. I did not reveal this for fear of being ridiculed."

"Well if it makes you feel better one of my conifdants states they had puncture marks on their neck and think it's the work of a vampire... what is within the realm of reasonable in our efforts to pursue this? Also what can you tell us of Mister Dawlish? He's the only one still alive related to the immediate circle of people in all this."

The magistrate will tell you where Dawlish lives. He is a local tenant farmer like the others.

A vampire hm? Curious.

"Have there been any odd figures who have taken up residence recently?"

The magister shakes his head. "No, you're the first strangers in a while, save for merchants who travel this way on their route. And none of them have been recent."

As to vampires, you no the word, blood sucking fiends of the night, but little else.

Gerald addresses the magistrate.

Can you please direct us to Mister Dawlish's house? He might have something to offer about the recent activities.

Following the magistrates directions, you come upon a small house at the end of town. You see a thirty-something woman picking weeds from a small vegetable patch. She looks up at your approach, stands, wipes her hands.

Good day madam.

Gerald adopts his most disarming attitude to try and compensate for his ugly visage.

We have come looking for your help on a most important matter. I wonder if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions.

"Yes? Hello, I'm Liz Cambell, Mr. Dawlish's housekeeper."

Gerald, had been heartened to see the door opening, but was disappointed when it wasn't the person they were looking for.

Hello Ma'am. Is Mr. Dawlish about?

She responds, " He has been to a neighboring village, and will be returning home today by the graveyard road."

I see. Thank you for that information. Perhaps we should go meet him there rather than wait here? What do you all think? Gerald says to the group.

But before we go, do you mind if I ask you how he has been....Mr Dawlish, that is? Has he been acting in an unusual manner? And have you noticed anything untoward going on around these parts in general other than the deaths of late?

You'll get no further information from her. Not that she won't be polite, but after chatting with her, you will realize she doesn't know anything of interest to this mystery.

Cecily whispers while the two chatter. "Nothing but dead ends. This town could benefit from a library."

Alright Cecily, looks like we are done here. Let's go meet up with Mr Dawlish.

"It seems the only logical choice, yes."

You travel back through town, past the magistrate's office, the widow Iven's, and the church, and onto the road past the graveyard.

As you begin to pass the graveyard, you hear a gasp in fear. You see a man under a tree at the edge of the graveyard. A strange, red mist drifts toward him, and he's paralyzed in fear.

What do you do? Also, Notice rolls, please.

Not one to draw any closer to a mysterious entity of unknown origin, Cecily tries to asses the situation before diving in.

"Well that might just be our killer and final victim..." Ataan states moving towards the man and mist.

Ataan notices a thin tendril of the mist leads to a grave in the corner of the graveyard. He knows that that paticular spot is the pauper grave of Ivens.

This looks curious.

Gerald tentatively approaches the grave with the others.

The mist draws closer to the man who must be Dawlish based upon the descriptions you likely heard.

The mist does indeed extend from the grave of Ivens.

Gerald quietly draws his pistol and takes care to step silently towards the man. He is almost certain that this man is Dawlish but the mist ins't helping with identification. It is perhaps providing some cover for them though. Tread lightly Cecily, he whispers.

Cecily nods without a word, consciously keeping her footsteps quiet. She would love to study this mist and the effect it has on the stranger, but that would be unnecessarily cruel to him at this point.

The mist continues to advance upon the paralyzed man. As it envelops him, wounds begin to open up on his exposed skin. He screams.

Is the plan is to simply watch him die?

Gerald realizes that being careful won't be necessary. The man is in mortal danger. The mist appears to be killing him.

Quick, no time to lose. This is no ordinary mist. It is an evil living thing. Come! We must save the man.

Cecily is at a loss for what exactly Gerald intends to do, thinking on the fly. "How're we supposed to kill it, we haven-ahh fine; Get away you damned fool, before it kills you!" Realizing sitting around isn't going to accomplish much, Cecily springs to action, but watching the mist at work keeps her from getting too close. "I can grant him no protection from the supernatural Gerald!"

There is not much I can do other than try to pull him out of the mist. We can't just stand here and watch him being....consumed.

"Ivens! This brings you no peace or solace for your wife!" Ataan demands rushing forward to hit the mist connection with his cane with a wiggling motion.

Alright, you're entering combat mode. I'll deal everyone a card, we count down Aces to Twos. Jokers can interrupt at any time and you also get +2 checks and damage that round.

No jokers, but each of you can act before the mist.

At the sight of the approaching mist, Praise God steels himself and turns to his comrades: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you!" With those words, he runs full-speed toward the scene, and, not seeing how his weapons will have any effect on the mist, makes to pull Dawlish from its hellish embrace.

.

Gerald follows Praise Be into the mist to help extract Dawlish, but as he get's close, he tries to taunt the mist towards him, with the hopes that Dawlish will be able to get free from it.

The horrific creature is difficult for your mind to grasp.

Before we process these actions, lets have each of you make a Guts check. If you don't have the Guts skill, then standard unskilled rules apply (1d4-2,1d6-2).

I got no guts.

Cecily is horrified by the most but overcomes her fear and can act normally.

Gerald fails the Guts check and gets a roll on the Fright table. The creature has no "Fear modifier" so this is a straight 1d20 roll.

Gerald's resolve leaves him and he becomes very frightened.

Gerald is Shaken.Ataan: The Mark of Fear: The hero is Shaken and also suffers a minor cosmetic physical alteration—a white streak forms in the hero’s hair, his eyes twitch constantly, or some such oddity. This reduces his Charisma by 1.

Ugh, I don't feel so good.

Guts

Praise God overcomes his fears and tackles Dawlish, dragging him out of the Red Mist. He feels tiny tearings on his skin as he does so.

Gerald moves forward, but can't bring himself to interact. (He'll be able to act normally next turn).

Ataan is Shaken, but can make a check to recover next round.

Cecily can act normally.

So once Cecily acts, the Red Mist gets another go.

Praise God overcomes his fears and tackles Dawlish, dragging him out of the Red Mist. He feels tiny tearings on his skin as he does so.

Gerald is Shaken, recovers and can act normally.

Ataan is Shaken, but can make a check to recover in order to act immediately.

Cecily can act normally.

So once Cecily and Gerald acts, and Ataan rolls Guts again (and acts if he succeeds), the Red Mist gets another go.

Although taken aback Ataan finally snaps it seems swinging his Main Guache from his hip and rushes to swing at the mist muttering of the boogey man in Turkish.

Ataan draws a weapon and makes a Fighting roll at -2 (multi action penalty for drawing in the same round). The target is the creatures Parry rating (2) so his 5 beats the target number with no raises. So he rolls damage for the weapon (Str+d4).

Cecily is rather surprised to see Ataan physically strike at what is a gaseous entity, and for his attack to have connected in some way. Reaching into her bag she pulls out an acorn, and eats it. Her body goes rigid as she gasps for air, her body turning pale. The branches on the nearby tree begin to extend around the mist, boxing it in.

Nothing seems to be working so Gerald decides to scoop up some dirt from the ground and throw it at the mist. If nothing else, maybe it will be confused.

Eat that!

Ataan attacks the mist, and as it attacked Dawlish, it solidified a bit, allowing it to be struck. His main gauche beats up the mist a bit, but doesn't cause any wounds. Gerald gives up his idea to Taunt, and stead uses a dirty trick (see what I did there?). The mist goes for it, somehow.Cecily's spell, Entangle, does manage to briefly enwrap the mist with vines and roots that burst from the ground, but being incorporeal, it simply passes through it on its turn.

---

The Red Mist attempts to overcome being Shaken....It recovers from the off-putting dirt trick, and envelopes Praise God and Dawlish, and attacks. It's attack hits automatically everyone in its area. Dawlish passes out, and Praise God takes 1 wound and is Shaken.

---

Round 2

Initiative: Gerald (Joker), Cecily (Ace), Mist (10), Praise God (7), Ataan (5)

The Joker allows Gerald to choose to act whenever.

Please add a Spirit roll to any attack you make on the creature.

The dirt worked! Gerald scoops up another big handful and flings it into the mist.
You're going down!

The midst tries to dodge... But is distracted by the dirt. It is holy ground...

Cecily can't maintain concentration as the Red Mist already broke free (by playing the insubstantial card).

Damn. "Ataan!"

Cecily runs up to Ataan, grabs his blade-wielding hand, and swiftly runs her other hand along the blade, a small amount of blood now covering it. Cecily notes that hurt much more then she originally thought it would.

The Red Mist moves to envelope Gerald and attacks, opening shallow cuts on his skin.

Praise God and Ataan are up.

Invigorated by the sight of earthly weapons inflicting damage on this incorporeal thing, Praise God draws his rapier from its scabard and lunges for the foul creature.

PG hits, so roll Str+1d4 damage.

FYI: It takes 2 actions to reload a wheellock pistol.

Ataan raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything before swinging his bloodied weapon.

Ataan also hits with one raise, roll damage please.

The Red Midst is Shaken by Ataan's attack.

New round: Drawing initiative

Ataan and Praise God are up again, then the Red Mist.

Ataan takes advantage of the Mists pause in onslaught. "Pull the man out while it's distracted." he yells before attacking and moving away from the mist.

Qralloq working through the rules: Parry is 2, so successful hit with a raise. Damage is 12 which exceeds Toughness of 8 with a raise. As it was Shaken already, this causes two wounds. A third wound will incapacitate it.

Praise God savagely thrusts his rapier once again through the temporarily corporal mist.

Praise God strikes the mist. Please make a Spirit check and also roll damage (Str+1d4 for a rapier).

Explode that die!

Praise God gets the killing blow. Would you like to narrate that?

When the Red Mist attacked, it grew more dense and your weapons seemed to do it harm. Ataan and Praise God managed to actor it up enough that it vanishes, floating apart in the air, the tendril from the grave of Ivens included.

You have saved Dawlish, though he is wounded and unconscious. From the widows tale, he had a part in the ruination of Ivens that lead to his suicide. Now, Ivens revenge has been thwarted on the cusp of completion.

Dawlish stirs. Weak and pale from blood loss, he rolls onto his side and groans, then pushes himself to a half-sitting position. "Wha- What happened?"

"You cheated a man in life and he wants to take yours along with the others he's killed in his death... You should tell us the details. Since your morality is a bit grey Sir... one just need to push you back into the graveyard to start this all over again to even things out and he'll stop killing possibly. So I'd suggest you don't lie or hide anything you know..." Ataan states with a frown, "And if I deem it worth while from the information given I'll look at your injuries so you can walk out of here."

Gerald is very glad to see the red mist thwarted. His cuts aren't bad but they do hurt a bit. Listening to Ataan threaten Dawlish, he hopes the man will talk.

Sounds like an Intimidation or Persuasion check. I'll give you +2 for the nature of the threat.

Dawlish weeps and oddly enough thanks you. "Ill pay the widow back everything we took from Ivens. I know it won't bring him back. I'm sorry. You're right. Once felt worse and worse every day since that night."

You patch the man up and sure enough, he makes good on his promise that day, liquidating part of his holdings and gifting her the proceeds.

You're all given rooms for the night, when the dreams come once more...

When next you sleep, each of you shares a common dream. The dreamscape warps, changes, until you and your companions sit around a fire in a dark cave. Before you sits a wizened man of indeterminable age, his skin weathered like the most ancient parchment, his eyes more alive than any person you have met before. You have no doubts that this is N’Longa, the ju-ju man who guided you onto this path.

"Evil comes," he says sadly, tracing a wiggly line in the dirt of the cave floor. "Children of Abraham know it as Satan, but this only one name. When Egypt was young, it was Apep. To Northmen it was World Serpent. In the land where sun sleeps, it Feathered Serpent. All men know of it, but none know it.

"It has no name. N’Longa know it from old days as Great Serpent, Mother of Evil, and it grow big. Ancient magics held it, but they now gone.

"Only one way to find where it sleeps and kill it. Find the six gems of power. Long hidden they are, masked by evil from N’Longa’s gaze. Search world, listen to talk of evil and strike against darkness. One lies in the Old World, one in my homeland, Africa, two in the New World, and one in the lands of Cathay. Search the world.

"N’Longa dream-speak you again when he knows more."

Attan eventually wakes up and sighs scratching his stomach, "Bloody Hell..." he mutters and gets up for a long day he assumes to be one of many.

Gerald wakes up with a start! Another of those crazy dreams. And a mission it seems.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, and throws on his clothes, stomach rumbling. I best check with the others. I'd be willing to bet we all had the same dream.

Cecily meditates on this vision as she awakens, laying in bed as the day begins anew.

No word on Solomon, and now we are tasked with battling a great evil. There will be adversary. She chuckles at the thought of facing enemies, knowing full well they mean everyone grave harm. Satisfied with her own musings she arises, ready to get the day started.

Ataan eventually gets dressed and waits for the others in the common area where he waits for the others.

Nothing like light conversation over breakfast...

Over breakfast, you see in each others eyes something different than when the day ended yesterday. Where righteous anger and disappointed satisfaction lay, you know see reflected the same confusion and worry that you feel.

But the scope... it's so large. Where would you even start?

"Well should we find a library and start with searching in the local countries... Gulyabani doesn't not wait for idle hands. Or does someone know some people in the far east or the southern dark continent?" Ataan finally asks looking to the others.

All I know is England. I like the library idea, but maybe we should pick the land we want to start with and research it fully? But I don't really know. It's just a thought. I feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.

"I may be able to locate members in certain...circles who can help find knowledge lost, or forgotten. A city will suffice to start, although there are others who prefer the isolation."

"So where are the oldest and/or best libraries of England... that will let us in I guess..." Ataan asks before admittedly adding something to likely hinder them.

While the Church still controls much of the important library collections, universities like Oxford are well established. In addition, the Royal Family and other members of the peerage regard private book collecting as a high indication of pedigree.

"I advise we keep our path far from that of nobility. Anyone of such prestiege is only interested in knowledge for their own selfish pursuits."

You maybe be right Cecily, unless the nobility thinks there is something in it for them. Something valuable. Like gems, perhaps? Then maybe they would be willing to help, or at least give us access to the libraries.

"I do not think giving a noble a gem tied to the greatest threat to the world ending is a good idea though. Besides wouldn't we owe them a favor of some sort for using their library while they may well easedrop to find the gem in advance of us?"

"If these gems are as powerful as we believe, we must be vigilant. A noble is after one thing: power." Cecily practically purrs as the word rolls off her tongue. "Power to elevate oneself, power over others, it is alluring to those whose greed has overcome their sense of morality."

Well I'm fresh out of ideas then. Gerald says, a little disappointed that no solution had been reached.

"We simply will have to do it ourselves, perhaps steal the research of some wretched figure should our paths cross." Cecily takes a sip of water, making a rather sour face as she swallows it.

"Nobles aren't the only ones with books, to a place of road scholars?" Ataan offers up.

"I have family in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and I hear tell that John Harvard's new college has a burgeoning collection of scholarly tomes."

There are no bad choices here. Where do you want to go first?

"Anyone know someone at the London University? Might as well before we leave the old world no?"

"I am unsure if any of my 'colleagues' will make themselves known, but since we're in the 'old world' I agree with the sentiment Ataan."

Praise God nods in agreement. "Christ's College in Cambridge should be sympathetic to Congregationalists such as myself and would have a wealth of information at our disposal. I believe my father's name may yet carry some cache within its halls."

Well Praise...it sounds like that should be our first visit!

The game continues in the next chapter