Wednesday, April 6, 2011

A tale of two Pritcherts

Last week or so, through the forum version of our Scion game, I was notified that Deputy Nathan Pritchert needed to turn in his gun and his badge. As Nathan, I was mortified. The backstory written for him had him wanting to be a cop since he was young. With this loss of identity, Nathan was nothing more than a rudderless ship. Sure, helping people and killing monsters is all well and good, but I needed more.

That's when I gave Nathan an ex-girlfriend. With his nature listed as Gallant, I decided to refine his Gallantry. Not just anyone that needed help. I narrowed it down to his ex-girlfriend, Alison Edison. For every titan spawn or deranged human he helped take down, he was doing it all to protect Alison. The trickle down effect. Nate kills a basilisk, well, it can't go and hurt Alli. There's a logic to it. Somewhere.

I introduced her in a post set after the group's adventures in Terra Incognitae. Nate's lost his job but he's reconnecting with his ex-girlfriend. It gives him something to strive for. I thought of Nate as someone who needed to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He needed to see that when all is said and done, he'll have something to come home to.

Then I decided to flesh out Nate's backstory even more, starting with the incident that put him in the hospital. This time, however, I had the girlfriend to add in. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part for me was to portray the helplessness one feels when a loved one is in the hospital. Jessica says I did pretty good, so I'll take her word for it.

As the backstory grew, differences between Nate the fictional character and Nate the RPG character were starting to show up. I kept adding little details to him that I didn't want to put into the RPG portion because I didn't want to bogart the game away from Morgan. His girlfriend, in the course of the five pages or so that I had written, became his fiancee. The proposal scene that I wrote was the one "romantic" scene I had ever written. How'd it go? I don't know. I was never programmed to feel human emotions. Again, Jessica seemed to like it, so I'm good with that.

I realized my conundrum soon after letting Jessica read the story. Not counting RPG Nate, I had two Pritcherts in two different times. In the story I was writing, I had him post-visitation but in happier times. He didn't have any special powers but he had a fire in him. That fire was Alison. Present-day Nate was all about keeping his secret to keep Alison safe. It made him extra mopey. I did not like that.

While talking to Morgan about her, he said that if, in game, I revealed my secret, there would be dice rolls involved. Game wise, I'm cool with that. My story-wise, I was not cool with it. So I had to make a decision.

Fast forward to today. I decided that while yes, Alison does exist in the game world, I would only use her as a means to re-cap the story. The blog posts I've written involving the both of them in the future would eventually be interspersed into the story I was writing, provided I had enough pages to justify my little writing experiment.

This is the first time in a long while that I've been excited about a writing project, so I hope I can stick with it. And in both universes, Nate will be using his Vigil Brand on Alison.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Nate to Alli: Daddy Issues

Late one evening…

“Hey, Alli.”
“Nate? Why are something the matter?”
“No, why would you say that?”
“You’ve called me. Twice. In one day.”
“Is that weird?”
“No, it’s just, I mean since we broke up, we haven’t really, y’know, talked.”
“I always thought we did pretty well, all things considered.”
“Nate, any time we’ve talked it’s just been idle chit chat.”
“Yeah, I’m, I’m sorry about that.”
“Hello, Nate, you still there?”
“Alli, I want to tell you, I really do. But it’s too dangerous. The secrets I have to keep are-“
“I know, they’re to keep me safe. You know I care about you Nate but you just can’t call me up and repeat the same excuse over and-“
“I met my father.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I met my real father.”
“Oh. Are you ok? How did it-“

In the background, a man’s voice can be heard. “Alison, sweetie, who’s on the phone?”
“It’s Nathan Pritchert from the Sheriff’s department.”
“Don’t you mean formerly of the sheriff’s department? Man, what a fu-“

“Thad? From the mayor’s office?”
“Yeah, he’s a real nice guy. You’d-“
“No, I wouldn’t. We’ve met before. Well, hey, I hope...yeah, treats you, happy. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called. Goodbye, Alison.”

Nate leaned on the railing of the balcony, tapping his forehead with his cell phone several times. “God damn it, Nate, you’re such an idiot.”

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Nate to Alli: Monster Encounter

Via text

N: I killed a basilisk a few days ago.
A: R U playin D&D again?
N: ...yeah. Advanced.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Inside Information

It wasn’t really a call I wanted to make, but after the captain more or less firing me via voice mail, I knew who I needed to call. I punch in the number and I wait as the phone rings.

“Las Vegas Sheriff’s Department, this is Allison speaking. How can I help you?” Yeah, I called my ex-girlfriend. She works at the sheriff’s department, doing paperwork, handling calls, stuff like that. She also broke up with me after I got shot.

“Alli? It’s Nate.”


“Alli, ALLI, I’m fine. Other than a little dehydration, I’m in perfect shape.”

“What’s going on, Nate? You’ve been gone for over a month.”

“I’ve been helping some people out on a missing person’s case. Listen, don’t tell anyone I’ve called, but how are things down at the station?”

“Well, the captain’s furious. He seems to think you’ve gone after Donald Jackson. Is that what happened? Did you go after him because he killed that girl?”

“What? No, I didn’t…look, I can’t really say.”

“Why not? If you haven’t done anything wrong, why can’t you tell me?”

“I just can’t.”

“Nathan Pritchert, DO NOT do this to me again! I had a hard enough time after you got shot, and I thought I just needed to give you some time, but it’s been two years!”

“I’m sorry, I want to tell you. It’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it and just tell me.”

“I want to tell you, I really do. I don’t want to put you into danger.”

“I am a big girl, Nate. I can handle myself.”

An awkward silence hung over us for what seemed like an eternity. She broke it. “I called your mom, Nate. She’s worried sick about you.”

“Yeah, I know. I got a few messages from the parents too. I called them when I got back.”

“She didn’t know what was going on but I got the feeling she wasn’t telling me everything either. We talked for like an hour or so.”

Oh god, Mom’s going to ask if Alli and I are getting back together. And then she’ll bring up grandkids.

“So…how’s Walter?”

“Walter’s fine. He doesn’t really do much but lay around the house. He’s sleeps on the bed with me now.”

Huh, maybe Walter misses me. “Have you been taking him on walks? Toss the old ball around?”

“I take him out when I can. He doesn’t really have a big yard to run around in anymore. Listen, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll come up and see you when I get to the station. I’ve got to clean out my desk after I turn in my badge and my gun.”

“Nate, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Another silence. “Allison, before I go… you said you were worried about me?”

“Goodbye, Nate.” *click*

Well that certainly put me in better spirits.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Pritchert's Journal: Conversations with my mom

Nathan sat down on the couch, fidgeted a bit, and asked his mother, “Mom, is Dad home?”

“No, he’s working a late shift today. Why?”

An awkward silence pervaded as Nathan tried to find the words. “….what do you know about my father?”

“You’ve known Shane most of your life. Why are you-“

“Not Shane, Mom. My birth father.”

“Oh… Well, your father was a Japanese businessman, and he was in town for a week or two for some conference. So he called someone I knew, and this person arranged for me to spend time with him…”

Nathan’s eyes went wide with horror. “Wait…what…I…WHAT.”

Laughing, she says “You are so easy to tease, Nathan.”

“Mom, I’m serious. I…he visited while I was in the hospital.”

His mom’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Whoa…wait…huh..WHAT.”

Oh, I get that from her, Nate thought. “No, I’m serious, mom.”

“Oh…” his mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, if you really want to know, I met him at a convention here in Vegas. There was a symposium on education across the world. His name was..well, if you met him, is Robert Mifune. He was a speaker there, and he spoke about connecting schools across the globe, bringing like-minded people together and creating a strong network. It was electrifying. I approached him after the seminar, and we talked for what seemed like hours. He had the most interesting ideas. I spent time with him over the next couple of days, tossing ideas back and forth, learning more about him, this and that. The last night, we had a few drinks, and then this led to that, and, well, here you are!”

“Was there anything else?”

“I think that’s it. I mean, he said some weird things, but I think that was the alcohol talking.”

“Was it about being a Japanese god?”

His mother’s jaw dropped. “I…I need a drink.”

Monday, February 28, 2011

They made me bleed my own blood.

Back into the thick of things.

After some initial investigation into a fire, talking to a lady that was watching us, and the suspected arsons, we found ourselves in a hotel room booked by another group of scions. Whatever is happening must be pretty big if the gods have two groups of scions on the same case. And the fact that this group got hit hard with one member KIA and one missing is worse news for us.

After a bit of searching, some of us started watching Scarface on the hotel’s TV. Just as Scarface was introducing us to his little friend, the door got kicked in and a gas grenade was thrown into the room. So yeah, we were caught a bit flatfooted. Except for Gunnar. Senses like a hawk.

Nine or ten men, all decked out in tactical gear and carrying assault rifles, came in and started shooting at us. A brief firefight ensued. Brendon and Laurel got hit pretty hard, and a sniper got Gunnar good. Highlights include Jack standing around yelling at them to shoot him, Jack throwing a dude out a window, Laurel holding a dude so Nevermore could rip his face off, and Gunnar shooting out the window at the sniper.

I spent the battle constantly smacking a guy in the back of his knees to knock him down and shooting various guys. I got dinged a bit too. One of them made me bleed my own blood. With Jack’s help I was able to repay him. Using bullets. In his head.

With all but one of the guys dead, we grabbed some keys from one of the bodies and stole their van. Gunnar wanted to make a stop at a building across the highway. We waited. Brendon bled. Jack punched the prisoner. Gunnar finally came back carrying a giant sniper rifle.

I want a sniper rifle now.

A security consultant we met at the school gave Gunnar a call and said that he was following some people involved with the school fire. We’re headed there and we’re planning an attack on the Order’s compound. I’m gonna have Jack throw this van into the compound as a diversion. We won’t be in the van when he throws it.

Odds and Ends

Before I left Vegas, I sent out applications to various law enforcement agencies. FBI, US Marshals, etc… I think my abilities would be better served on a national level. It’s hard getting into crime scenes when I’m out of my jurisdiction. Time will tell if I get in. Maybe I should also send in the newspaper article about that cult play thing I broke up.

So the little voodoo doll is basically a conduit for the dead voodoo girl’s parent. Jack’s mentioned something about the god being able to track us via the doll and that I should probably destroy it. So why am I hanging on to it? Believe it or not, it’s to protect Laurel. If she’s already a target, then this also paints a bullseye on me. Hopefully this will confuse who ever will be sent after us. I’ve got the brand on Laurel, but it’s more of a passive form of protection. I won’t be alerted until she’s in trouble.

Hopefully, because I have the doll, they’ll come after me first.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Mor(t)al Dilemmas

I find myself at a loss. I’ve run with a small band of folks like myself for a few weeks now. We’ve been in a few tough scrapes. Lord knows I wouldn’t haven’t gotten far without them. I placed them in high regard. But yesterday…

The young lady in Kane Taoka’s group had some sort of power over me. She was able to make me point my own gun at my head. The other time I met her, she gave me a leg cramp or something.

During the battle, Laurel was able to entrance her by staring into her eyes. She laid on the floor, unable to move, unable to act, as long as Laurel gazed into her eyes.

Then Laurel shot her in the head. Cold-blooded murder.

My breath caught short at this. A fury rose within me. With the Viking skeletons beginning to overtake Kane, I ran over and dragged Laurel out of the room while she searched the dead girl’s body. I handcuffed her and shoved her into my police car. I may be the child of a god, but I’m a cop first.

I was tempted to let her Impala get sucked into hell.


Laurel sat in one of my chairs as we all argued over the shooting. I can appreciate the fact that she shot her to protect me. Dammit, we don’t even know the girl’s name. We don’t know a thing about her. Could she have had me pull the trigger on myself? It's possible. But nothing I've seen told me she was a killer.

Worst offense is that creepy doll of me she had.

I wasn't convinced that she could have used her hoodoo with her hands cuffed behind her back. Or that a bullet to the head was the best way to subdue her. The others tried to convince me that the shooting was justifiable. I'm not sure how executions are justified. This may be a war, but I'm not going to burn down a village to save it.


At the summit, I spoke to my father and asked him about scions killing scions. Is it the rule? Should we avoid it if we can? He said it wasn't unheard of, but there are repercussions. The parent god will want vengeance.

Maybe if we run into Sly or Victor again they can tell us who she was.


Just after the gods gave us a new assignment, I pulled Laurel aside to have a chat with her. "I know you did that to protect me. I understand, and I'm grateful for that. But there are other ways. Killing should never be your first option. And now you've opened yourself up to payback because of something you've done on my behalf." I placed my hand on her shoulder and said "Whenever this thing comes for you, I will do my best to stop it. But please, no more killing. Not when there's another way."


I don't know if anything I said had an impact on her. We'll see what the future throws at us. But if I have to, I will stop her. Even if I have to pull my gun first.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

You can't save everyone, kiddo.

Truer words my dad have never said.*

I spent a few day recuperating from my jump out of a building. Let me tell you, that hurt. We spent an evening debating what to do with the raven shroud thing. When the weekend rolled around, Laurel, Gunnar, and myself headed back to wear the gods were meeting. There we were met by a thuggish looking guy. He spent several minutes asking who the hell we were, and we did the same. At some point, another guy came up. An Irishman with a ponytail. Told us he was Interpol. Now unless Interpol is involved in godly affairs, I assumed that this guy was a Scion.

Thuggish was Jack Cook. Interpol was Brendon O’Shea. Brendon had a letter for Gunnar and myself. Gunnar’s letter said something about bad juju at the Stratosphere. Mine was about finding an object at the Stratosphere to place the kami in. We would’ve headed straight there, since Jack wasn’t letting us through, but my phone rang. The Captain was angry and he needed me at the station five minutes ago.

Back at the station, the Captain told me that the victim from the performance, Janine O’Neal, had been kidnapped, despite having two officer posted in front of her home. I needed to find her.

I placed a call to Gunnar, and he agreed to come with me to Ms. O’Neal’s home. Laurel almost didn’t go, because Gunnar told her that she would have to sit in the back seat. I pulled up to the front of the hotel and waited while they argued about seating arrangements. I’m not ashamed to say that I honked the horn a few times. As we got ourselves situated, by having Gunnar and Laurel drive in her car, Jack and Brendon ran up and wanted in on the action.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty?” Gunnar asked.

Jack’s replied made sense. “If something comes in and kills a room full of gods, what good would I have done?” Touché.

Cop cars lined the street in front of Ms. O’Neal’s home. I went to talk to the officer on the scene. The two on guard duty had been shot and killed in the early morning hours, yet no one reported a thing. It was a professional hit. Whomever did this had a silencer. I’m thinking there were two shooters, one for each officer.

Inside, the house was in shambles. Furniture was knocked over, lamps smashed. The clock in her bedroom had been unplugged, possibly during the struggle, but the battery inside kept it running. It looks like the break-in occurred around 2AM.

It seems one of the perks of being a scion was the ability to instantaneously investigate and area and find every single clue. I opened up my mind and went to work. There were five assailants and they tried their best not to hurt Ms. O’Neal. Not a drop of blood found in the home.

Not related to my ability, but we found that she was a bit…socially awkward and didn’t go out much. The abundance of cheesy romance novels pointed us to this fact.

Seeing how the victim was almost sacrificed by a one Mr. Donald Jackson, we decided to drop by. Nevermore (I need to find out the bird’s real name) did some recon for us, and with the coast clear, Gunnar went up to the door and gave it a good knock. Being law officials, Brendon and myself were parked around the corner, looking up at the sky and other miscellaneous things. A bit later, Gunnar emerged with a rough draft of the play Panagyris,. I can only assume he convinced someone in the home to sell it to him.

Brendon gave it a quick read as we drove to the Stratosphere. The play detailed a man’s journey into the Underworld to save a woman, but was too late and had to return alone. I wish I had paid more attention to Brendon has he detailed the play. The only other notable thing about the play was a symbol found in it’s pages. It was a shield with a drop of liquid on it, and two menacing eyes above it.

“Looks like there’s a storm coming,” Brendon said as we walked into the Stratosphere. Almost immediately we saw a sign for the Chapel in the Clouds. The symbol from the play was also on the sign. So we headed up.

At the Chapel, we were greeted by a large black woman, whose name I simply cannot recall. “So who’re you getting married to?” she asked Laurel. Comically, Gunnar and I both raised our hands. Laurel chose Gunnar. That's cool. The lady took everyone for a tour of the place. As the heartbroken one, I stayed behind and took a gander at the date book.

Sandon Jockold had reserved a chapel every evening from 2AM to 4AM four about two weeks. Either Mr. Jockold needed a refresher on the laws of marriage in the US or Donald Jackson needed a better alias.

About this time the group came back and I was shooed away from the date book. They mentioned something about blood soup, but I think that's a UK dish. Their wedding was booked for 2AM tonight.

I told them about Mr. Jackson, and also of me releasing the kami into this hotel. They thought it more prudent to wait until the hotel was foresee of the bad vibes.

So we waited until it was time for the faux wedding and we headed over. It was a theme wedding so we were all wearing bulletproof vests. I don't know what kind of theme that is.

Just before the wedding, Gunnar spilled some whiskey on himself and pretended to act a bit tipsy. He excused himself after Elvis started to wave us over.

Did I mention they paid for the Elvis wedding? Brendon was insistent that if they're going to have a fake wedding that they go all the way.

Gunnar returned and said something about chanting coming from the other room. I grabbed Jack and told him that we're going to kick a door down. That got his blood pumping.

With the door broken in, we got ourselves a glimpse of what was going on in the next room. Donald Jackson was standing behind an altar, with a chalice in his hand held high. There were several people in robes kneeling in front of it. I rushed in and fired a shot at Jackson and clipped him in the shoulder. Jack followed and started throwing punches at the cultists.

Jackson ran out a side door as I shot some cultists. Jackson had entered an elevator going up and somehow Gunnar was going after him. As the other came into the room I shouted for Laurel to check on the victim. There'd was an elevator on the other side of the room and I jabbed the UP arrow like a madman.

The ride up felt like an eternity. The Girl From Ipanema didn't help.

The elevator ride ended on the roof of the hotel. Through the rain I could see Donald Jackson at the edge of the roof, holding up the chalice and chanting. I ended the chanting rather quickly when I ran up and shot him in the throat.

And then a giant snake made out of a roller coaster appeared and ate him. Why would I make that up?

Eventually everyone came onto the roof and joined the fight against the snake thing. Gunnar slashed. Jack punched. Laurel shot. Nevermore pecked. Brendon speared. With an actual spear.

Nothing worked. Not even attacking at the same time had any effect. Several times I thought about grabbing the raven shroud.

A thought crossed my mind. "Jack, can you pick it up?" I yelled.

"WHAT." Jack had a look of disbelief in his face.

"CAN YOU PICK IT UP?" I yelled and then did a throwing motion.

Gunnar got the gist of the plan. "if you can pick it up, I can throw it over the edge!" Jack lifted it up and Gunnar, despite being poisoned by snake roller coaster venom, was able to heave the thing over the edge. I don't think anyone got hurt at ground level.

Everyone was watching the snake coaster plummet. I was running back down to our cars. I heard Baron Samedi say something about the raven shroud curing the ill and bringing the dead back to life. I had failed Janine once. I was hoping to change things.

With the shroud in hand, I raced back to the chapel. She was still on the altar. I didn't need a medical degree to tell that she was dead. I'm not what people would call a praying man, but I prayed. I prayed as hard as I could when I placed the shroud on her body.

Janine woke, frightened and confused. She had no idea why she was naked and in a room full of dead bodies. "Everything will be all right," I said as I took off my jacket and covered her up as I lead her out of the room.

Reality snapped me out of my hopeful stupor. Janine did wake up, but she didn't come back complete. The injuries she suffered were still evident on her body. No blood poured from her wounds. There was nothing behind her eyes. They just stared into the space in front of her without any recognition.

"I'm sorry, Ms. O'Neal." I took out my gun and mercifully ended it. "I should've been a better cop."

I called Gunnar and told him what had happened. Yes, he did tell me so. I had to be on scene when the police came, so I would meet them back at his hotel room. I hung up the phone. And my eyes drifted towards a cultist that had been handcuffed.

Thoughts of shooting him right then and there entered my mind. I could uncuff him and place a knife in his hand. No one would ever know. No, I was still an officer of the law. I wasn't going down that slippery slope. Only then did I realize that there were ten cultists when we burst in, but only seven remained.

The captain arrived and with him a squad of officers. He sent me home soon after I gave him all the info I had. He knew Ms. O'Neal's death would hit me hard. I didn't go home.

I needed to find whoever was backing Donald Jackson, because I was going to nail them to the wall. And I was driving over to get the help to do it.

*There are times when my dad is a font of wisdom. Whether or not I listen, well...

"Son, there are times where things don't end up like we want. Things happen. You can't save everyone, kiddo. But you have to learn to let it go. Get angry, but don't hold on to that anger. All that rage in you? Don't bottle it up. Despite all the smiles and the laughs, I can see it, Nate. Sometimes, I think you're the angriest young man I have ever met. But I know you're better than that."

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Deputy Nathan Pritchert's Origin Story!

Nathan Pritchert was born to a single mother in Reno, Nevada. He was a rambunctious child with a vivid imagination. Inspired by repeat viewings of the Magnificent Seven, Nathan wanted to grow up to be a cowboy. His mother married a police officer, and his step-father would instill in him the sense of justice, and of right and wrong. “People out there need someone like me, Nate,” his step-father said. “There are those that thing that because they’re bigger, or have more money, or because they carry a gun around, that they can do whatever they want. They don’t care about the little people, Nate. That’s where you and me come in.”

The next day at school, Dan Shumaker, school bully, age 10, was pushing Zoe Arnmin around. Nate wasn’t going to stand for it. He marched right up to Dan and pushed him to the ground. “Don’t go pulling Zoe’s pigtails anymore, Dan. Or you’ll answer to me!” Dan picked himself off the floor and was about to swing a fist when Nate narrowed his eyes and said “Go ahead, make my day.” The shocked look on Dan’s face was all that was needed as Nate went over to Zoe and helped her up. Nate was only six years old.

Needless to say, his mother started monitoring his viewing habits more closely.

Similar incidents would follow Nathan throughout his adolescent years. Someone was being bullied. Nate wouldn’t have any of it. He’d put a stop to it. He mostly helped the ladies.

After high school, Nathan spent two years in the community college. When he received his associate’s degree in criminal justice, he trained in law enforcement and was promptly hired by the Reno Sheriff’s Department, where he spent several years cleaning up the streets.

2007 is when things changed for him. Three local drug dealers had acquired fully automatic rifles, and had gone on a crime spree. Trapped in a bank, the criminals thought their only escape would be to shoot their way out. When Deputy Pritchert arrived on the scene, his eyes widen at the chaos that had spread. It was like a war zone. The streets were littered with bodies, of police officers and of civilians. Some were still alive but the constant spray of bullets kept help from pulling them to safety.

“No more,” Nathan thought. He assessed the scene and he came up with a plan.

Using tactics that he had read about and from various action movies he had watched, Nathan was able to have his fellow officers close in on the robbers and apprehend them with limited casualties. Unfortunately, Nathan was shot in the stomach as he advanced towards the criminals.

Waking up in a hospital bed, Nathan found himself staring at an older Asian doctor. “You’re very lucky,” the man said. “A shot like that would have killed a normal man. But you’re not a normal man, Nathan. You’re the child of a god.” He then revealed himself to be Nathan’s biological father, the Japanese god of war, Hachiman.

Nathan was sure that the painkillers were having an effect on his brain.

Over the course of the week, as Nathan recuperated, the doctor would tell Nathan about his history, about who he truly was. Nathan’s bravery and his actions in stemming the loss of life had garnered Hachiman’s attention. “I need a person that can lead. Anyone can be a foot soldier. Nathan, I need a general.”

On Nathan’s last day, Hachiman appeared and presented him with two items to aid in his life. “The book will help you lead. The gun will help you protect.” Nathan accepted the gifts, and thanked his father. To him, being the child of a god wouldn’t change a thing. He’s still a cop.

Addendum: Nathan’s first day back at work was a day of celebration. There was cake and punch. On his desk was a box with a card on it. The card read “Nice work out there, cowboy. Love, Mom and Dad”

Deputy Pritchert wears a Stetson now. Stetsons are cool.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Innsmouth Day 2: People and Places

Early morning arrived for our investigators, and learning that the Gilman House Hotel did not have a continental breakfast, they decided to head to the local cafe.

The second day of Innsmouth fun started off with a little bit of bloodshed as Braxton was hit in the face with a rock. Some of the kids were laughing and pointing at him as Braxton attempted to stop the bleeding and Burney and Seamus set off after the kids. Alas, they were much quicker than the two and ducked into an alleyway and disappeared.

Disappointed that none of the kids accidentally fell onto a bullet, they slunk off and had a nice breakfast. As they drove to the "lawyer's" office, Braxton noticed that the car had less gas than the night before. Innsmouth is not like the brochure had promised.

Seamus and Burney waited for Ralsa Marsh, law consultant, inside his office. Braxton hung out by the car, in case some slingshot-wielding kids happened by. As they all waited, Braxton noticed a man in a top hat hurry by and an older gentleman behind him, unleashing a furious litany of curses towards the man.

Inside, Seamus heard it all. He heard everything. Someone was cursing the name of "Ralsa Marsh" and telling him that he would burn like his forefathers before him.


The top-hatted man happened to be Ralsa Marsh, and with him present, they could get on with acquiring the paperwork and keys to Jeremy Crawford's home. He gave them directions to the home, mistakenly called it a "fixer-upper", and advised them to grab some groceries.


Outside, Braxton caught up with the older gentleman and introduced himself. The gentleman was Quentin Averill, and it was apparent that he had no love for the Marsh family, and did not fear them as the rest of the town did.


Stopping for gas, gas station attendant Bernard Slocum sullenly filled up their gas tanks. He asked if they were locals, and when proven not to be, he asked Braxton if he was a doctor. A question quite out of the blue.


At the First National Grocery store, Seamus and Burney went in and went shopping as Braxton kept up his vigil for the delinquents. The store manager, Brian Burnham, was a big fan of Die, Witch, Die and Burn, Space Mutant, Burn, two films in Burney's oeuvre. Burney got him to spill the beans about town. Brian told them to avoid New Church Green and to avoid the Marshes. People that annoy them tend to end up disappeared. Curiosity killed the cat and all.

With a loaf of bread autographed by stuntman supreme Burney Burns, the trio made their journey to the Crawford Estate.

The house was not a fixer-upper. The exterior was in exquisite condition. Inside, while a bit dusty, was in very good shape. They explored the ground floor until they found the pantry and kitchen and set Seamus to grab the groceries and store them. Upstairs there were many empty bedrooms. Braxton found Jeremy Crawford's journal hidden under the bed while Burney found a journal to Elizabeth Crawford, whom Burney assumed to be his great-grandmother.

A trip to the attic found a stuck door that was easily forced open, only to find themselves with the stink of fish, excrement, and rot. In an alcove they found torn pillows and smashed plates, on which were dried pieces of food. There was no telling how old the food was. As Burney looked around, he noticed multiple claws marks on the back of the attic door and around the west alcove.

With nothing to do for the rest of the day, the boys settled in to do some diary reading. Burney read Elizabeth's diary, much of which consisted of a teen girl's life as she grew up. It mentions marrying Jeremy Crawford and her happiness after the union. The last entry, dated 1846, talks about the arrest of Obed Marsh and how the town should return to normal.

Braxton read Jeremy's diary, which was much thicker than Elizabeth's. It starts off with a typical teenage boy's life. He later speaks of marrying Elizabeth, and also of the growing unrest in the town of Innsmouth. In 1846, his writing becomes erratic and despondent as he talks about Elizabeth's disappearance after Obed Marsh's arrest. 1847, he is forced by the Esoteric Order of Dagon to remarry. They soon have three children. His wife "returns home" and later entries talk about his sons' death. In the later years of his life, Jeremy hires a caretaker for the home. In 1925, shortly before his death, he complains about fierce chills that have wracked his body.

They compare notes, and realize that Elizabeth Crawford is not Burney's great grandmother. Who is?

Monday, January 24, 2011

Something Fishy's going on in Innsmouth

Burney, Seamus, and Braxton ended up in the town of Innsmouth. They arrived rather late, due to Burney not wanting to stop and ask for directions. With no way to get in touch with the law consultant Ralsa Marsh, the trio consigned themselves to an evening stay at the Gilman House Hotel.


They met kooky clerk George Habbitt. He rented them some rooms and made some interesting remarks when Braxton inquired about hunting in the area.


They met out of towner Lucas Mackey in the lobby of the hotel. He's a plump man, loud and boisterous. He's there to inspect the factories, making sure they're up to code. He's also not a fan of the Prohibition, judging by the way he offered the three gents a sip from his flask.

The players' thoughts when they met him? "Red shirt."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

If Deputy Pritchert Falls at 25 MPH...

Yeah, nothing topped the events of last week. Guard duty was more or less a snooze fest. I reread the copy of The Book of Five Rings. I need to pull out some choice quotes if I expect to inspire my compatriots.

The week ended uneventfully. Father asked to meet him on top of Stratosphere Casino. I didn't realize he was being literal until he led me to the top of the Stratosphere. We sat down at a table, again, at the top of this casino, and he proceeded to tell me about kamis. (I thought he said "commies".") The kami in the table appeared and started chatting us up. table had never had a view like this one.

Father needed my help. The Harmon Hotel was scheduled for demolition in 2012, but it was fast tracked to this week. He needed me to get in and extract the kami so he could bring it to a better place.

I drove by there the next day, seeing if I could just waltz in. The place was guarded and I could not see any alternate ways in. It's not like I can fly. Well, that Esperonda guy can jump really far, maybe if I try hard enough I can fly...

I attempted a bit of subterfuge to gain entry but that didn't work either. I parked around the corner and start running towards the hotel. When the guards stopped me, I identified myself as being with the Sheriff's department and asked if they had seen a suspect duck into the abandoned building. No go. I gave them a fake description and set off running again.

The Taoka Corporation really wanted this building demolition.

Not having much luck, I gave Gunnar Esparza a call and asked for some help. He didn't very interested until I mentioned the Taoko Corporation. He must've had some dealings with them or something. In the mean time, I would give him a hand tracking down some guy. Discreetly, of course. He also mentioned something about cyclopses. Cyclopsi? More than one cyclops.

Ms. Laurel Kladokas needed finding someone, so I joined them at the Luxor. As we went up the elevator, Gunnar pulled his piece, and I did the same. Not knowing the full situation, I probably should have asked questions. Laurel stepped out and spoke with someone while we stayed out of sight. She gave a short scream for help and Gunnar jumped out and fired a shot. I don't think it made much difference. Whomever shoved Laurel back into the elevator, and then they made an appointment.

Thinking a strategic retreat was in order, I told Laurel to accept the offer and then pressed the elevator door closed. The guy didn't seem to bad, considering Gunnar took a shot at him. Looks like we made a bad choice here.

We went our separate ways for the evening. I proceeded to stake out the Harmon Hotel and noticed that a shift change occurred at midnight. However, the efficiency of the change was something I had rarely seen before. Cops aren't this precise, and neither are the feds. This smelled of former military or mercenaries.

The next morning, I traveled to the Mirage to help Gunnar find a guy named Sylvester Guiler. We set about casing the casino floor until we spotted him. Once found, Laurel went in and did her thing, entrancing the guy with her looks. Gunnar stepped in and they spoke about stuff. Something about a pool convention.

I hung back and pretended to be part of the crowd. Another guy joined the group. Victor something or the other. After a few moments of chit chat, Victor and Sly excused themselves and went towards the back. Gunnar followed them, and then I did. We got there just as they pulled away in a Ferrari. Gunnar did get the license plate, but as I punched in the info, what spit out was a squeaky clean record for Sylvester Guiler. The record was too clean.

Laurel went to her appointment while Gunnar and I cruised about town for a bit. We listened to the Eagles. This Hotel California sounds like a cool place to visit.

We adjourned to Gunnar's hotel room and started planning for tonight. We decided that Laurel was going to distract the guards while Gunnar and I snuck in and extracted the kami. What could go wrong, right?

We drove up there in Laurel's car and she dropped us off a few blocks away. We got closer and saw that there was a crowd in front of the Harmon. Lights lit up the exterior. Yeah, something went wrong. The building was coming down. Tonight.

With the front of the building lit up and the focus of hundreds of people, we found an adjacent building and climbed to the top. We were lucky that someone had thoughtlessly left a door unlocked. Once on the roof, Gunnar jumped into the other building.

I made it across too.

We landed, and we waited to see if anyone was around. All that was heard was some clicking sounds and hissing. Hydraulics, most likely. I was able to get the kami to show itself and it tried to enter the magic bottle, but it said that something was tethering it to the building. We had to find out what was happening and free it.

Several floors down we found a large circle with a magical symbol etched into the ground. Well, Gunnar said it was a magic symbol. There was also a large spike that embedded into the circle. And bombs. Bombs everywhere. And the bombs were set to detonate in sixty seconds.

Gunnar ran over to the spike and tried to wrench it from the ground as I tried to defuse a bomb. I have minimal bomb training, so I wasn't having much luck. It was much harder when Gunnar yelled out something about shinobi and I saw one attacking him. I told the bombs to go screw itself and started rushing over to help Gunnar.

Halfway to Gunnar I got caught by surprise by a shinobi and I got slashed pretty hard. Not fun. I had to help defend Gunnar so I ignored the once attacking me and shot at Gunnar's shinobi. Well, rather than get slashed with his hands full, Gunnar dropped the spike and pulled out his axe. We were able to kill one. The other one threw a ninja star at a bomb and set one off.


As the building began to collapse, Gunnar ripped the spike from the ground and I ran and got the kami into the bottle. I was a bit further along than Gunnar when another bomb went off, throwing Gunnar towards the window as I dived out.

I fell a long way down and hit the ground with a thump. Quite surprised I was alive. I got up, gave a thumb's up and started hobbling towards Laurel. Then some lady in a limo looked at me, twisted something, and my leg felt like it was on fire. I hit the ground pretty hard. Again.

We escaped by the skin of our teeth. Laurel patched me up a bit.

The next day, there was a report about the implosion of the Harmon Hotel and about mysterious figures that were spotted leaving the building. Wonder who that could have been.

I called in sick. I was a walking mass of bruises and I don't think the Sheriff would appreciate me coming in like that. After a few days I was almost in perfect health, so I gave Gunnar a call to see if he still needed help with Sylvester. To the Mirage!

When I got there, I was going to talk to management about Mr. Guiler and see if I could get a room number, but Ms. Laurel had beaten me to it. Sometimes feminine wiles beat police badge.

Gunnar jumped into the room and searched it while Laurel and I stood watch in the hallway. Gunnar found a claim ticket, but he needed Sylvester to claim the package. So we planned to spring a trap. Gunnar would wait for Sylvester in his room while Laurel and I stood watch. So Laurel waited around the corner and I stood by the elevator.

And we waited.

Around five, Sylvester, covered in dirt and carrying a large bag, exited the elevator. I held the door open for him as he stepped out and I stepped in. He seemed a bit nervous to see me. As the doors closed, I sent a text to Laurel and Gunnar that the target was on it's way.

After a minute or two, I exited out the elevator and proceeded to stand watch outside the room. Laurel joined me and we waited. Then we heard someone taking a shower. We think it was one person. We were texted by Gunnar about Laurel accepting a date from Victor. I decided to disappear before Gunnar and Guiler left their room, so my involvement with this was possibly a bluff by Gunnar.

Downstairs, The four of them met up and went to dinner. I looked in and could notice the awkward silence. Boy was I glad I wasn't there. I peeked in a bit later and noticed that they were having lobster. Dang, I sure wish I was there.

Victor excused himself, leaving the three to finish their meal. They got up and headed towards the claims desk. Again, I followed. Discreetly. They got the case, and Gunnar headed off. We all met up at Gunnar's other hotel room where we got a chance to take a peek at it's contents. It was the black raven cloak that Baron Samedi took from us!

At this point I'd like to note, for the record, that I called dibs on it when we first found it.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Deputy Nathan Pritchert's Report

Date: January 15th, 2011
Time: 2230-2245
Location: A theater in Las Vegas

I attended a performance of the show "Panegyris" with my associates Gunnar Esperanda and Lorelei Shehasabirdnamednevermore. Partway through the show, the lights went up and the lead actor of the show came on stage and told everyone that the next act would need a volunteer from the audience. After a few moments, the victim, Jane Redshirt, was led on stage by a performer.

Ms. Redshirt was placed on an altar and her arms and legs were bound to it. The suspect, Mr. Donald Jackson, then stood beside the altar and from his costume pulled out a stone dagger and raised it above Ms. Redshirt.

At this time, I heard my associates whispering to each other, mentioning how the altar looked like a genuine Aztec sacrificial altar, and not a stage prop. Having a front row seat, I was afforded the opportunity to examine the stone dagger at a closer distance. The way the light glinting off of the dagger's edge told me that the dagger was authentic and my gut instinct told me that Ms. Redshirt was in danger.

I sprung from my seat and leapt onto the stage. I unholstered my firearm and leveled it at Mr. Jackson as I advanced towards the alter and the bound Ms. Redshirt. I ordered Mr. Jackson to drop the knife but he did nothing but mutter "How did they know? This wasn't supposed to happen." I grabbed Mr. Jackson's arm and forced him to drop the dagger, and my associates joined me on stage and began freeing the victim. As I struggled to place Mr. Jackson into handcuffs, a gun shot went off and hit another suspect that was attempting to escape out the backdoor. Unfortunately, my attention was on Mr. Jackson as I brought him to the ground and I am uncertain as to where the gunshot came from.

During this struggle, several other suspects had fled, but luckily a good Samaritan was able to overpower one and hold him until I was able to place him under arrest. My associates took the wounded suspect to hospital while I stayed behind to take control of the situation.

The two suspects in my custody were read their Miranda and were taken to the police station. Ms. Redshirt was shaken, but unhurt, from her ordeal. I attempted to reassure her that everything would be okay as I escorted her to an awaiting patrol car to take her home.

Back at the station, the suspects were booked and processed. Tonight was the show's fifth night, and searches are being done for reports of any missing persons. I suggested to the captain that a patrol unit be placed in front of Ms. Redshirt's home, to provide a sense of protection to her and as a deterrent to any accomplices.

Deputy Nathan Pritchert
January 16th, 2011

Monday, January 10, 2011

Welcome to Innsmouth!

Innsmouth, founded in 1643, is a small coastal city located in New England. Innsmouth main trade was shipping and fishing, but numerous shipwrecks and the War of 1812 diminished the amount of sailors and ships available to this town. The town became stagnant until the mid-1800s, where the town's fortunes turned and the fishing industry began to boom once again. But their new fortunes came with misfortunes, when a plague decimated the town's population.

Perhaps the town's future will change once our investigators stop by Innsmouth for a visit. And no, they won't just all happen to be in town for no good reason.