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This is what we are covering tonight.
We're going through the basically the starter adventure of Call of Cthulhu, the starter
kit.
So we're playing alone against the flames.
Michael will be reading and I'll be trying to survive.
All right.
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Okay.
All right.
Let's see how far I can make it.
Here we go.
Alone against the flames.
The sun is high in the sky.
A merciless ball of heat.
You feel the scorched, you feel scorched by the time you reach the bus halt in front of
Osborne's drugstore.
It's a relief to put down your heavy cases and take off your hat for a moment.
You fan your face.
It is a long summer here in your hometown and yet a curiously empty one.
You look across the street at the grubby butcher shop, the grocers with the faded awning and
the shabby tobacco list.
Ms. trustful faces glare at you as they pass.
Fuck all you.
I hang your clothes and luggage.
It was your parents choice to live here, not yours.
You were happy down south as a child among Providence's white walled houses and leafy
churchyards.
Perhaps this is a job in Arkham will supply you with a change that you need.
Yet everybody you know in the world lives here.
You know nobody in Arkham, not one soul.
You ask yourself one last time if this is the right thing that you're doing.
The answer is here.
None of your supposed friends have come to see you off.
You are alone.
Whatever challenges a lie in Arkham, it will be a new life, a brave new one, a new brave
one.
A small gray motor coach approaches and rattles to a stop.
You put your hat back on and pick up your cases.
Yeah.
How are they going to get out of this fucking shithole?
You don't want to be part of the shithole no more.
I would hate to live in a small town.
Two young men with two young men with solemn expressions of light from the coach.
One looks up at you and down before heading away.
The driver also steps down glancing at you before crossing the road to visit the tobacco
ist.
When he returns, he is rolling a cigarette between his yellowed fingers.
He gives it a final twist and examines you as he reaches for his matchbox.
He is a thin man in his 50s dressed in a stained shirt with the bus company emblem.
Yet his eyes are sharp and their dark sockets.
Who are you?
You show him your ticket for Osepe.
From there, you will connect to Rochester and Portsmouth before the coastal line to Newbury
Port and finally Arkham.
Jesus Christ, I forgot I would be traveling forever.
You should be able to afford a rail ticket for at least some of the way.
Otherwise, this will be the first of many long bus trips.
The driver scratches the match and lights a cigarette.
The end flares as he takes a drawl.
Then he exhales and gestures to the back of the coach.
Plug a Drex up there.
Now we need to set all your stats.
So what are we working with?
At the top, you have spaces, eight characteristics, strength, constitution, power, dexterity,
appearance, size, intelligence, and education.
A lot the following.
Let's start with the highest and then we'll go from there.
The highest is 80.
The 80, alright.
So basically my guy is fucking dripping with sexuality.
He is drop dead gorgeous.
So that's going to appearance.
He is just, women are like, they gasp when they see him.
You saw that man look at me up and down.
He knew what he wanted.
So my appearance is 80.
Alright, next one is 70.
70, let me see.
I'm practically a gymnast.
So your dexterity?
70 for dexterity.
Alrighty, we have two 60s.
Two 60s, let me see.
Let me do strength and constitution at 60.
Alright.
Three 50s.
Three 50s, God dang.
I'm not too bright, so 50 and 50 and 50 for power.
And 40.
So I'm just going to side because I am four foot one.
Four foot one and a hundred pounds of solid muscle.
You're a little man?
Yes.
A little stocky man.
That's somehow drop dead gorgeous.
I am dripping.
Women are like, damn, I got to hit me a little man.
My last girlfriend was six foot nine.
That at least lets me set this up pretty easily for the next couple of weeks.
Alrighty, let me know when you're finished and ready.
I'm ready.
The driver smokes and watches you as he watches you drag your cases to the back.
He wants all this business too.
The rack is set and conveniently high on the vehicle.
You get a grip on your heavier case.
Is your size 40 or below?
Yeah, it's a 40.
Four foot one.
You fucking dropped the book.
Four foot one with a six inch penis.
I wrote that down too.
Six inches and five point three inches of garth.
You struggle for a few seconds before the driver comes to help you and lends a hand.
Still puffing on the cigarettes.
Heavy bags for a small one.
He remarks small one.
You judge it best to respond with a simple thanks.
It's like, yeah, but thank you.
I couldn't lift that son of a bitch.
I'm going to carry a bag heavier than I need to be able to lift.
It's probably heavier than you are.
Yeah, it probably is.
I'm a hundred pounds, probably a hundred and ten.
Oh shit.
I looked at the wrong page.
Yeah, that happened to me a few times.
All righty.
Moving on.
The driver flicks a cigarette into a gutter and steps into the motor coach.
Its engine costs the life.
You board, grateful that you will be the only passenger for the initial part of the trip,
at least.
In some motions you watch from the window as the tired avenues of your old home slip
behind you.
We're seating into the distance.
For a few minutes, you can still see the church spire over the brow of the low hill.
Then the road dips and it too has gone.
Arkham is your new home.
You will travel there and make a new start.
All righty.
Blah, blah, blah.
It's asking you to change everything to get your haves.
Oh yeah.
All right.
I hate that part.
So you have each of those values and then you divide each of the original values by
five as well.
That was one of the randomest things I have.
It's gonna be half and then they gotta be a fifth of that half.
No, not a fifth of the half.
I'm not.
Now, if you did a fifth of the half, that'd be really bad.
It'd be super low numbers that don't exist in this.
So that's 16, 35 and 14.
Sixties are 30 and 12 a piece.
Fifties are 25, right?
I'm gonna take it with the math.
My guy's dumb as hell.
I don't know what you call bright, but damn can I fuck.
Forty is 20, right?
20 and 10.
No, eight.
All right.
Good to go.
All righty.
And then in the strip below, you'll see that you track your sanity and magic points.
Beginning sanity is equal to your original POW.
Power.
So my sanity is a nice 50.
And beginning magic points are the same as the value you've just assigned for the power
divided by five.
So I only have 10 magic points.
All I need is these hands though.
I just need some hands.
Is a 10.
OK.
All righty.
The coach putters through the countryside.
At first, the interior is stifling and your stomach lurches at every bend in the road.
I can picture that.
I'm a corn dog.
However, the driver opens his window and by switching seats, you find a spot where the
breeze hit you in the face.
I'm four for one.
How?
Should be blowing over my head.
Not a cushion.
I brought you a pillow.
One of my briefcases I kept with me.
You soon relax into the journey, observing the quaint little hamlets and the coach that
the coach serves.
A heavyset woman boards at one settlement and gives you a polite nod.
What up, girl?
She gets off at the next one.
Oh.
You want some company?
The road rises a little, passing cornfields and orchards.
The leaves are turning and the trees are alive with glorious reds and golds.
It's kind of funny because it's going to be fall.
It's already fall.
Yeah.
Yesterday was the full day of first day of fall.
And it was hot as fuck.
Welcome to the future.
You have just begun to doze when the driver takes a tight bend at speed.
Bitch.
Add size and con together, then divide the total by 10, rounding down.
Add size and I'll size the constitution.
60 plus size is a hundred.
So 10.
So that's a 10 hit points.
60 plus 10 is a no, no, sorry.
60 plus 40 is a hundred.
So is a hundred divided by 10 is 10.
So little bitch, I'm going to hit 10 hit points.
This is the starting value for you have points.
Yay.
Now you must make a roll against your dexterity.
Roll one D 100.
This means rolling 10 to 10 sided dice.
So both of these 10 ones, both of these.
The tens place is by the blue one and the ones digit is the green ones.
Green.
Okay.
Why did I get both pens out?
What the fuck am I doing?
Come on, baby.
I need a, I got to do higher or lower than 70.
This is a role against your dexterity.
So it's going to, if it beats my dexterity, I lose, right?
This means, uh, we'll see here.
If you rolled equal to your dexterity or less, you pass the roll.
Okay.
So I have to be okay.
64.
So you pass.
Hell yeah.
Dexterity.
I probably grabbed the hand rail just hang on to that bitch.
It's like a little heavy.
Like a little.
A desperate yell awakens you.
You feel yourself slide from the seat as the driver spins the wheel and the motor coach
plunges off of the road.
You grab hold of the seat in front of you just in time to prevent a painful fall.
The coach stops with a thump.
Now you see what has happened.
A Fordson Traxor has stopped in the road and the driver had you swerve to avoid the still
obstacle.
He leaves from his seat into the road unleashing a string of curses at the farmer.
I imagine him talking like boom.
You would take a moment to catch your breath.
Perhaps he should.
You should offer assistance, but the driver has already returned.
He backs the coach up a little and threads it around the tractor and glaring at the farmer.
He's like, but you're on country road.
They should have been looking.
There should be nothing that would just pop up suddenly.
You know what I mean?
Was the driver not paying attention?
Exactly.
That's the problem.
Right.
You resume your journey.
The driver takes the curves with more caution than before.
He glances over his shoulder a couple of times.
Sorry for that.
So probably can see me over the seat.
I can disappear to the back.
That fellow was dumber than a hog.
I'm Silas.
What's yours?
So I get my name.
My name is Hank Dingo.
You'll find out about him here in a little bit.
It's from a movie.
The accident was at least as much Silas's fault as the farmer's, but it doesn't seem
shrewd to antagonize the man while he is driving you through the middle of nowhere.
The coach turns onto a narrow road, which weaves uphill through the woodland.
Silas becomes chatty.
Going to Arkham, eh?
Can't say I've ever heard of the place.
Went to Boston once.
Didn't like it.
Too much hustle and bustle.
You got family there?
Wait, how does he not want to Arkham?
My ticket just says Osby.
About to shoot this man in the back of the head.
A special someone waiting.
The afternoon is wearing on you.
My ex, you six nine.
You see no harm in confiding in Silas about your new life.
A job, eh?
What's your line?
What job options do I have?
Antiquarian.
What is it?
Antiquarian.
Doctor of medicine.
Journalist.
Private investigator.
Or a professor.
My name is Hank Dingo and I'm the knee-high PI.
I know I made that character before he died, but I'm going to give him another shot.
That's a good movie, by the way.
You can watch it in 10-minute videos on YouTube.
Seven videos, so an hour and 20 minutes.
Or an hour and 10 minutes.
No way it's seven, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50.
Maybe eight videos.
No, it's like an hour and 20 at least.
Either way, it's hilarious.
And how old are you?
I'm 35.
35?
Mm-hmm.
So you're a private investigator, huh?
That I am.
My one weakness is women.
I am a harbour.
So you just took yourself into the story here.
I just added myself.
I will sometimes really get into bad situations, case-wise, for a woman.
You skirt around the details of your profession in your usual way, mentioning only that you
have helped the police to clear out various problems in the past.
I helped him catch the booty hole bandit.
He was raping chickens.
Allah South Park, the chicken lover.
Your heart pounds a little faster as you think of the post you have secured in the Blackwood
Detective Agency.
Hell yeah.
You've had enough of investigating martial infidelity.
I have not.
I love taking pictures of people banging on the park.
I got hundreds of them.
And bank clerks on the take.
It sounds like the Blackwood Agency is just the opportunity you need to cut your teeth
on some real villainy.
They hired me because of the booty hole bandit case.
Silas narrows his eyes, but he says nothing.
Your credit rating skill is 20%.
Damn, I'm broke as fuck.
Credit rating 20%.
OK, your occupation skills are art, craft, photography, so photography.
I'd be taking a lot of pictures.
I got a lot of nude pictures I shouldn't be having.
What you do.
All right.
Disguise.
Uh, well, I mean, I'm four for one.
There's I mean, I'm highly noticeable.
There's a thing called Stilt.
Yeah, I guess.
Library use, library use, psychology,
psychology, how do you use that?
Spell it.
Spot hidden.
And I can find the G spot real well.
So you found the spot hidden and one of either charm, fast talk, intimidate or persuade.
You know, I'm dripping.
So you know, it's going to be charm.
Hello there, ladies.
Charm.
OK, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, one, two, three, four, five, six.
Here me one more.
There are only seven.
Yeah, that's all I showed.
OK, just making sure you've been like fucking 15 when I did our antiquarian.
You may also pick any other skill except Cthulhu, Mythos.
Oh, yeah, there it is as a personal as personal specialty.
I mean, look at these over here.
So let's see.
We got what history?
We got jump.
We got a fast talk natural world track.
I guess track would be an appropriate skill for a private investigator, wouldn't it?
Psychoanalysis archaeology.
I'm going to track track.
Yeah.
And then the percentages here.
I start with the highest 70 70.
I'm going to do spot hidden.
OK, two 60s, two 60.
You know, it's going to be charm.
I'll just be talking them ladies out of their panties.
Sixty on photography because I love taking new pictures.
Three fifties, three fifties.
Let's do 50 on library use, law and psychology and two forties.
That is track and disguise.
My two worst skills.
I get lost real easy.
It's going to be lost completely.
But you might keep track of the time, too, so we don't do overdo it.
That's fine.
OK, make sure you realize Silas hasn't made a stop since the incident with the tractor.
The motor coach winds its way uphill.
However, your thoughts are interrupted as a road crest, say ridge, and you are treated
to a magnificent view of the vista below.
A creek snakes through the valley and breaking the rich autumn palette on the tree line.
In the distance, the white mountains rise into a hazy cloud.
There is no settlement, not even a cabin as far as the eye can see.
Birds drift through the tree tops and you can make out what might be two white zilled
deer lingering by the water.
Perhaps you're making a mistake by moving to the city.
Could you survive on your own in this lush wilderness?
Oh, yeah.
All that pussy and Arkham.
You have a base ability in most skills listed in the brackets after your skill name on the
investigator sheet.
For instance, you have 20% in climb and a base dodge equal to half your dexterity.
All right, so all these skills on this little paper, right?
I have all of them, except for the ones that I changed.
Those are null.
So I still have swim at 20%, regardless.
OK, just making sure.
Then you have 20% in climb and a base dodge equal to half your dexterity.
With my dexterity being 70, how the fuck is my climb 20?
What the fuck?
So my climb is 20.
Let me write that down.
Oh wait, is that already on here?
Isn't it?
I think it's already on there.
I don't need that one.
Yeah.
So my base, what's my dexterity?
What did you say?
Dodge?
Dodge is equal to half of your dexterity.
So my dodge is 35.
OK, that one I do need to write down.
It's different than that.
OK.
All righty.
Choose four skills which are not your occupation skills nor Cthulhu mythos.
God dang.
These are your personal interest skills.
Boost each of these by 20 points.
Starting with what they already have?
Mm-hmm.
OK.
Let me see what we got here.
What did I not add?
So can I add it to dodge?
It just says choose four skills if it's a skill.
Like a dodge like a beast.
Which are not recommend which are not part of your occupation skills.
So anything that's not part of the occupation.
Dodge is it?
So that means that puts me up to 55.
Hell yeah.
Be dodging like a bandit.
Let's see what else we got here.
I figure I should pick stuff that's kind of highish and just add to it.
You know what I mean?
Yeah.
Like let's see.
Brawling is 25% already.
Actually, I need a blank one because that chick's one.
You get a blank.
See if it does the same thing.
Yeah.
Brawling is 25.
So that's so I can fight like a motherfucker at 45.
So fighting.
We bust some people kneecaps.
We bust in people kneecaps.
They call me the knee high PI for a reason.
So my brawling is 45.
Two more.
Mm-hmm.
Let's see.
Because you choose four.
Right.
What else am I?
Some of these are terrible looking.
First aid.
Do that up to that's 30%.
Might as well do it up to 50.
So that's 50%.
So I can put a bandaid on me.
If I cover half my arm.
Being as little as you are.
And my jump is a I don't have a jump.
So yeah, jump is already 20.
So I'm gonna take it up to 40.
I can jump.
You're really little but you can jump.
I can fucking jump.
My girlfriend was five foot nine.
I get up all the way up in there from the bottom.
If she bends over, I can just jump on in there from the bottom.
All the way.
So my job is 40%.
All right.
So some good skills.
Not too bad so far.
I'm gonna die halfway through this fucking.
I already tell moving on the motor coach rattles on through the hills and Silas lapses into
silence.
The sky darkens behind you.
Pinks tinting into the clouds as the sun descends.
Finally a welcome sight comes into view.
A settlement on the crest of a hill.
This doesn't look like the pictures you've seen of Ossipi but perhaps you could persuade
Silas to stop while you stretch your legs.
Tiny legs.
Minutes later.
I can stretch them just sitting there if I'm being honest.
Minutes later a harsh stuttering from the engine interrupts your reverie.
Silas frowns and rattles the gear stick.
The motor coach falters in its ascent.
Silas utters a curse you don't recognize and grinds his teeth struggling at the wheel.
You seem to inch up the hill until you reach the first buildings.
Low dwellings constructed with a rough red stone.
Silas wrestles the coach into a small bay off of the road.
He scrambles from his seat and makes for the engine compartment.
You must now choose to make a roll against drive auto or psychology.
So drive auto is 20% at the base and psychology?
If you choose drive auto you need to roll equal to or less than the skill value.
That's 20% off the bat.
If you choose psychology you need a heart success.
This is a roll equal to or less than half of the skill value.
So mine is already 50 so that's 25.
That's still higher than drive auto.
So I gotta get a 25 base.
I'm doing psychology but there's no way.
I played this game three times I've never got it once.
If you did I would be surprised.
Well when it's live it's when the shit goes wild.
So I gotta get 25 less than 25.
Fuck 25 are equal right?
25 are under.
Come on baby.
82.
God dang.
82.
Jesus Christ.
That's way over the top.
That's nowhere near.
I should have upgraded my fucking drive auto.
Damn it.
Yeah but it's not something you thought about either though.
No I forgot and I haven't played it three times so yeah.
Slock.
Stylance opens the engine compartment and sticks his head inside.
The hot metal pops and sizzles.
He pokes at various components then withdraws and wipes his brow, smearing it with dark
grease.
I ain't sure what's wrong.
Maybe it'd be the oil pressure.
Might be something knocked off kilter when we took that spill.
Can't do much until the engine cools neither.
And the light failing.
I reckon we'll be here for a night.
He wipes his hands on a rag.
The shadows from your surroundings are already long and the air is chilly.
You feel stiff from the journey and a night in the rickety coach sounds unappealing.
Silas sees your dismay.
This here is Emberhead.
Mile miles from any place.
I only come through twice a week but the folks here are good people.
May lead better keeps a spare room.
She'll look after you.
Up that alley turn right first house on your left.
He scratches his cheek.
Looks again into the engine compartment and spits on the ground.
Meet me back here at eight in the morning and we'll see how as we stand.
Eight weeks from everywhere.
What is your logical?
I don't know if you ever seen an old brother where are down.
It's a great fucking sequence.
So do you want to look for made lead better's house to ask Silas where he will spend the
night or to challenge Silas about the breakdown challenge and break down like hey motherfucker
what the fuck.
Let me think.
May you say she's single.
Let's find out.
You're going to go to made lead better.
Hell yeah.
I'm going to go to made lead better.
I'm going to make those bed letters.
That was stupid.
That was a horrible time.
You tried.
You came at your best.
I'm going to knock the back wall out that pussy.
That's a granny's.
That's fine with me.
You drag your cases between the sullen buildings.
Don't you fucking drag them behind me.
Heavy fucking cases.
You feel surprisingly wary considering you have spent all day sitting on your ass and
then in the bus.
You'd be surprised how tired you get just sitting.
Silas's directions lead you to a modest dwelling with a slate roof.
The nameplate reads lead better and underneath a sign and neat copper reads lodging room.
Made lead better the bed winner.
The lane around you is gloomy but a lamp flickers in the window.
A breeze chills your face.
You're not about to begin your new life by sleeping in the street.
You rap on the weather beaten door.
After a moment you hear footsteps inside the house.
A bolt is drawn back and a wooden door swings open.
A figure with loose curls and a rough looking house dress peers at you.
Her gaze takes in your traveling suit and your cases.
Her voice has a slight Irish lit.
What up girl?
How you doing?
Top of the morning to ya.
The Joceptica.
Hello.
Should I take it that you're looking for a room for the night?
I'm also looking a bed to share.
You inquire as at her rates.
Suppressing a grimace.
As far as you've seen the village does not offer.
Imagine like you couldn't figure out what that man's in your head.
You imagine you fighting off grimace from ignoring.
Suppressing a grimace like get back grimace.
Oh you'll find them very reasonable.
You look tired.
I may.
Come in and we'll talk over a cup of tea.
Never too tired to fuck though.
That's my special skill.
110%.
The lead butter house feels cramped with a low ceiling and simple fittings.
But it is well kept and a cheerful fire crackles in the grate.
The aroma of the tea is soothing and the cup warms your fingers.
Have you come to Emberhead for the festival?
Asks me.
Two choices.
Do you want to explain what happened to Silas and the coach or to ask about the festival?
I hate festivals.
So let me ask about the Silas.
You hate festivals.
I haven't been to the fair years.
I heard it sucks this year too.
I heard that something happened as well this year.
May shakes her head and you glimpse a moment of deep seated anger in her green eyes.
He always drives too fast.
You got such pretty green eyes, ma'am.
Thanks to road has made for him and him alone.
He hit a merry year.
He hit a mirror some years back.
That was a terrible thing.
You should have seen the state of the coach.
You'd be surprised at the damage done.
She sips her tea and those fucking tears and cows are practically muscle.
You hit into them.
You break your own car.
She sips her tea and gazes past you into the corner of the room.
We live in here though.
We can't afford to antagonize the man.
He's the only link that we have to the world at large and he's not a bad soul at heart.
I suppose you're going the same route for 15 years makes a man careless.
You have to forgive him.
Fuck that man may go silent for a long moment.
Then her eyes flew back to you.
They're a mister lead.
What is it?
Her name lead better.
Blood better.
But you didn't come here to listen to me blather and you must be hungry.
I can rustle you up a bit of a stew.
How would that be?
I'd rather have some lime lime.
What is it?
Lime key pie.
Key lime pie.
Some little Irish key lime pie please.
You ask again about her rates and may name's the price that's so low you accept it without
hesitation.
The room is small but comfortable and the suit dark and hearty.
After dinner you have a couple of hours before your usual bedtime.
Would you like to talk to me some more to walk around outside to get your bearings or
to turn in for an early night?
Hmm.
When you walk outside a little bit.
I haven't done that one actually.
You'll be taking pictures of the window.
Yeah.
That's exactly what I went outside to do.
May's brow increases when you announce your intention to take a brow brow brow.
Crease.
Her brow creases almost snaps off.
Mind how you go.
She says, Emberhead's surrounded by cliffs and we don't have your fancy street lamps
here.
Take the lantern and watch your step.
That lantern's probably as big as I am.
Outside you see what she means.
The sky is overcast and only a few glimmers of moonlight peek through the clouds.
Without the heavy lantern you'd be walking in near total darkness.
You cannot hope to get an overview of the village tonight.
May's street is a narrow passage hemmed in by squat dark dwellings.
At the end however it opens up.
A white thoroughfare leads off to your right.
A crude sign names it Silbury Street.
To the left a few yards away your light picks out the crooked posts of a simple fence.
And beyond that the ground drops away into darkness.
You take a couple of steps closer but you can see nothing.
Air from below cools your face.
Then some instinct makes you look around.
Uh oh.
May should have stayed inside and banged in May.
An ink black figure stands in the road about 20 yards behind you.
Oh fuck.
It stares at you.
I'm gonna throw this lantern in his face.
You form the sudden impression that you will run at you and throw you off the cliff edge.
This is unsettling.
Seeing it has been spotted the figure slips down the alley.
You can either return to the safety of the Leadbetter house or confront the dark figure.
I am a private investigator so let's see what that person's up to.
You know we're curious by nature and we can't help it.
Die super early?
Die super quick in this game.
We'll play another one next week.
As you approach the figure takes a pegs back then another.
It slips down an alley between two buildings.
To catch the target you must make a track roll.
Oh shit.
If you succeed go to 141.
Uh let's see here.
I'm gonna make a track roll.
So it has to be higher than your track or under your track.
My track is 40.
So 40 or lower.
Yeah.
40 or higher you feel.
Yeah.
Come on baby I can track the best of them.
I can smell pussy in my way.
You can smell that fish from a long way to it.
Fuck.
79.
I lost him.
Oh shit.
You tried.
That motherfucker.
The figure moves fast with almost silent steps.
You are hampered with a heavy lantern in your unfamiliar environment.
In my 4 foot 1 frame.
You emerge from the alley into a dusty courtyard and can detect no sign of your quarry.
You scratch around a few minutes but the figure is gone.
It seems unwise to continue your stroll through unknown dark streets while this threatening
presence is abroad.
You head back to the leadbitter house, Mae lets you in and settles back into her chair.
Soon she begins to yawn.
I believe I'll turn in.
When would you like your breakfast?
I might as well just not say nothing.
I want my fish tonight.
As Mae stands you hear a clunk behind you.
You look over your shoulder.
I just look at her and start blasting.
But all you see is a wooden door securely closed.
Mae tutts.
The young lady of the house.
She'll have been listening to us.
Ruth, come out here and greet our guest.
There's a short pause then the door creaks open.
Two wide eyes peer at you from the gap.
Between tranceled hair and a rough nightgown.
What do you say?
The eyes blink.
Pleased to meet you.
What up girl?
Now, get back to bed.
The door closes again.
My daughter Ruth.
Ten years this summer.
She's a delight and a torment all in one.
Don't worry.
She sleeps in with me.
She won't disturb you.
Good night now.
You retire to your room.
It is a little chilly.
But you are too tired to worry about lighting the fire.
The sheets are clean and the bed soon warms up.
The silence outside is strange after living in a town for so long.
But you soon drop off.
I sleep ass naked.
Of course you would.
That's like we kind of figured that much.
You peer in people's windows late at night.
They're going to think you're the shadowy figure walking around.
You dream of fire in the grate.
Chorus gating colors shimmering through the dancing tongues of flame.
At first there are tiny almost microscopic but they grow and grow until a kaleidoscope
inferno spills from the fireplace.
Spreading across the floor up to the sheets.
You wake with a start.
You glint through the curtains and you get up and examine the grate.
Blinking the sleep from your eyes.
It is quite cold.
If you have taken any damage you may now heal one point.
Well I didn't because I'm dexterous.
I'm real agile.
Mae seems to have no running water but has supplied some in a ceramic jug.
You freshen up at your wash stand.
I keep forgetting it's 1920.
She cooks a hearty breakfast and leaves you a piece to eat.
At about 730 you are paid up packed and ready to go.
You bid Mae goodbye and she wishes you the best for your new career in Arkham.
Let's see here.
You don't have to do any of that because you didn't succeed.
Yeah that's about that in life.
Constant failure.
You're already tired of your heavy bags.
Hopefully Silas has repaired the motor coach and you can resume your long journey.
A sour pussy might be but the old driver seemed to understand his vehicle very well.
Sour pussy?
You pause to check your watch.
Still 20 minutes early.
And round the final corner.
The motor coach is gone.
You put your bags down and search the area.
Damn.
How low do I put them down?
I'm like they're already on the ground.
They're basically backpacks.
I can't put them any lower.
Trekking up and down slopes and around corners at the edge of the village you trace the
long road back as it's winding roads across the hills.
8 o'clock comes and goes.
There is no coach to be seen.
A passing villager notices your bags.
Looking for the bus?
I heard him take off at first light.
He's due back in 3 or 4 days.
If you need a place to stay, mad lead better rinse a room.
The man raises his head to you and strolls into the village.
You curse Silas under your breath.
Perhaps he went for parts.
But you wonder if the old goat has stranded you there on purpose.
Old motherfucker.
He left before you even got up.
He's like, bye bitch.
He's like a dib in the middle of the night.
Mae is doing laundry and looks surprised to see you again.
Her drawers just hanging in the wind.
Her big old granny panties.
Take a big ol' smell as I come up.
Mostly when you consider her picture.
Forget something.
When you explain the situation, she offers to store your bags while you try to arrange
alternative transport.
You are grateful to relinquish the load.
Nobody here has anything like a car.
She strokes her chin and narrows her eyes.
Maybe you could find somebody with a horse and a cart for your bags.
I could ask around later.
Try Mr. Winters at the village hall.
He'll know someone anyone will.
Or ask him on the artisans.
Their workshops are first left on Sillsbury Street.
She reaches over and squeezes your wrist.
Don't worry.
I won't see you sleeping in the street.
Money or no money.
Cause she's gonna take that booty.
You thank Mae and turn to face the village.
Told you women just can't get enough.
She grabs for your wrist.
Reach in for my cock and she missed.
Well they are at the same level.
She reaches.
You wander the streets of Emberhead without any particular destination in mind.
The village is built on a relatively flat upland with splendid views.
To the north, the hazy tips of the White Mountains reach for the heavens.
To the south, the sparkling waters of Lake Winnipeg touch the horizon.
The village itself takes less than five minutes to cross from edge to edge.
You arrive on the winding road to the west.
The only other road leaves to the south, following a lower ridge of land as it turns east.
In the southwest of the village, an open grassy space borders a ruined church.
Its graveyard cresting the cliffs.
To the northeast, the three main thoroughfares meet at a raised black metal structure.
It looms stark against the blue sky.
You may now ask about transport at the local general store.
Seek out the village hall.
Walk down to the lower level and check out the eastern road.
Examine the large metal structure.
Explore the church.
Or look for local people with their own transport needs.
Jesus Christ, six options.
What time are we at?
No the time down here.
31.
What do you want?
I think we could cut it off there.
So I'm going to keep it 30 minutes so people can, you know, enjoy a little 30 minute story.
So that's it for this adventure so far.
Tomorrow we'll pick it up where we left off.
We'll see you guys on the next one.
So hope I survive.
Please get laid before I die.