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#441 Drhoz


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 02:11 PM

Oh, I have so many quotes for you... I've been running this campaign for a few years now.

My plan for the first long-term story arc was to have the players slowly spiral into the horrors of Innsmouth, and naturally Deep One heritage (or better yet, suspected Deep One heritage ) would have to come up somewhere.

So words cannot describe my unholy ( and possibly eldritch ) glee when my wife came up with the illness killing her character's mother. Apparently she was big on cosmetic use of X-rays as a beauty treatment. So the way her hair has fallen out, and the way her skin has gone all flaky and scaly, and way she stares all the time and her voice croaks are all entirely natural results of radiation poisoning, thyroid cancer and throat operations.... And if you believe that you'll believe anything. *laughs maniacally*

I've warned my players to have back-up characters ready to go. My wife Purrdence's back-up character...

"My long lost evil twin? That I never knew about? She has a goatee"

PCs this early in the campaign - Lucy Smith, actress; Alexei Petrovich, Russian parapsychologist; 'Hammer' Dragovic, P.I.; and Sydney Delthorn, student librarian.

The first session I ran for my group went quite well. It being Valentine's Day, I picked a nice romantic story to spin them - Kevin Hassall's "A Happy Family" from Adventures in Arkham Country. Because I'm an evil, evil swine.

If you've ever read or played that one, you WILL remember it. It helped that I have some physical resemblance to the bad guy, which was really creeping the players out as I unconsciously matched all the mannerisms I described.

Alexei Petrovich : (trying to remember other PC's name) Melbourne? Brisbane?
GM : It's not Adelaide either
Per "Hammer" Dragovic : Sydney
Alexei : Ah yes, the other place.
Sydney Delthorne OOC : I'm going to get that a lot, aren't I?

Alexei's English occasionally occasionally gives him trouble

Hammer : He died intestate
GM : (quipping) So is his executor - interstate, that is.
Alexei : *puzzled* He had no balls?
Hammer : Intestate - it means he had no heirs.
Alexei : He was bald?
GM : *musing* I suppose if he had no balls, he wouldn't have any heirs either. Makes sense.

GM : (smiling sweetly) So... you're going outside. Alone. Defenseless. Into the dark.
Sydney's player: ( expression of horror dawning ) I'm playing Call of Cthulhu and I went out alone???
Hammer's player: ( head in hands ) I've played Call of Cthulhu and I sent him out alone!

Edited by Drhoz, 02 June 2010 - 02:32 PM.

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#442 Drhoz


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 02:23 PM

The subsequent session, 'The Carnival'
They'd only gone to the carnival to try and distract themselves from the horror of last week.

Alexei : So what is there to do in this town?
Lucy, flirting outrageously : Me.

Alexei OOC *looking at the Nichols' Carnival poster* : Hmm, smells like plot hook.
Me, GM : This is Call of Cthulhu - there's no shortage of things I can inflict on you if you don't bite this one.

Alexei & Lucy squabble over the last bottle of vodka ( oddly enough, the more she's been drinking, the less sanity she loses. I'm definately leaning towards chronic alcoholism as her madness of choice when she inevitably succumbs.)

Lucy OOC : You gave it to me! It was a gift!
Alexei OOC : I was trying to get sex! That's not a gift!

One of the carnival freaks is the Horror From The South Pacific. The glomming geek in question bites the head off a chicken and drinks the blood from the stump.

Alexei's player : "That's what I call sucking c***."

( I was rightly concerned having my wife and Alexei's player at one table - I'm not sure the fabric of space and time can survive TWO Smut Fields in such close proximity.)

The ringmaster gets into a wrestling match with Gorgo the Ape.

Alexei : Two dollars on the chimp.

After earlier speculation about the proportions of the freak-show midget, Nambuto the Watusi Giant appears

Alexei : I wonder if he is built to proportion.
Me, GM : *shrugs* You know what they say about black men.
Alexei : Yes - they have very dark skin.

On holding the Fish Boy to ransom.

"We could always prove we have him by sending them fish fingers"

We've already had to explain japanese rope bondage and furniture porn to the new player. Don't ask, it was relevant at the time. His character actually manages to hit somebody,and the player proudly announces

"My first fisting"
Rest of the group : *stares*
Koura's Player : ".... What?"
Me, GM: "You really are innocent, aren't you?"

Alexei's English fails him again, this time regarding the South Sea Horror ( allegedly rescued from desert/dessert island ).

Alexei : "You don't eat jelly? What do you eat?"
Sydney : "Lizards, coconuts, that sort of thing."
Lucy : "...your fellow passengers..."
Alexei : "But not their boots."

Alexei : He is guilty of many, many things. Such like Deprivation of Library.
Sydney : Liberty?
Alexei : Yes, dat is de word.
Lucy OOC : Although Deprivation of Library should be a crime, too.

Alexei's Player to GM : "Was that religious instruction or destruction?

Lucy : "I'm an honorable woman"
Other players : *chorus of incredulous laughter*

Things happen -

Me, GM : It's not merely a massive heart attack - it's more like his heart split open like an over-ripe banana
Players, all looking nauseated : What a wonderful turn of phrase you have

To my intense gratification, most of the PCs react to the final revelation by scattering into the dunes and cowering under vehicles and bushes ( all very sane reactions ). Some hours later they emerge to get their stories straight, hide the $10,000 they've managed to dubiously acquire, and explain why one of the NPCs is scattered over a wide expanse of beach.

They try to put a bright face on things.

Koura : Time for breakfast!
Alexei : Not fish.

#443 Drhoz


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 02:30 PM

I should probably also mention the last campaign I tried to run. The campaign that was killed stone dead by the players deciding to aid and abet the monsters.

Turns out, that as I played the NPC they were supposed to protect, I was somehow copying the mannerisms, accent, and habits of a real life woman they both knew and couldn't stand. :( Don't ask me how, I'd never met the woman in question. Nonetheless, I could hardly continue when they were happy to see her fed to the Mythos, and indeed wanted to give her a little push to help her on her way.

#444 Drhoz


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 02:58 PM

Hollywood Babylon - the convention one-shot I ran for Swancon 2009. It conflated Darryl F Zanuck's disastrous and fatal Noah's Ark, Griffith's Intolerance, and leakage between the Dreamlands and 1920s Hollywood. Warner Brothers Presents : The Doom That Came To Sarnath! I really went to town on the research for this one - most of the details about the incredible Griffiths set and incredibly inept Zanuck production were quite real.

Hollywood! Where once stood only orange groves, now the very stuff of dreams is made real and given to the adoring crowds - the crowds that worship these gods and goddesses of the silver screen, unknowing that behind the scenes these very gods are the puppets of higher powers, all immersed in the maelstrom of drugs, alcohol, debauchery and illegal sex. And looming over it all, their very own cyclopean ruins - the vast, 10-storey, mile-long Babylon set from Intolerance.

Hollywood, 1928 - Five employees of the Warner Brothers studio become involved in something strange, even for Hollywood - strange, and altogether nightmarish

Quotes from the first playtest

Purrdence : "Mary Pickford - she was the Angelina Jolie of her day. Without the kids."

Drhoz GM : "Just as well it only rains 5 days a week in Hollywood... er, five days a year."
Josh : Yes, I was wondering when Los Angeles became Seattle.
Purrdence : "Must have been that earthquake"

The evening after the first day's filming, the group decide take a break from their severe misgivings about the film, to go visit the refurbished Intolerance set

Gunter Smits (prop maker PC) : "Come, come, I have a massive erection to show you"
Drhoz, GM : "Has Zanuck's Over-compensation Complex suddenly became contagious?"

Drhoz, GM : "Gunter, Zanuck also want you to build a machine to spray the extras with fruit juice. To give them an appropriately Biblical skin tone. Hey, they have to something with all those oranges."

Gunter : At least I can turn those horses into zebras quickly. I can fill the fruit-juice sprayer with prune juice and make the horses stand behind a picket fence.
Me : I'm sure Zanuck will approve.

Celia Chamber's player *checking her character sheet* : "What skill does 'Rolling a Doobie' come under?"

John Ford-Welham ( PC Actor ) *getting defensive about not joining in the drunken, drugged shenanigans* : "Hey, I drink. I do cocaine. I just didn't want any weed, alright?"

John hears something snuffling around outside the prop shed, and sticks his head out the window to see what it is

Drhoz, GM : "Well, that's interesting - they're drinking, but you're the one seeing pink elephants"

The rest of the party stagger out to see what he's up to.

Drhoz, GM : "You see John Ford-Welham stalking a pink elephant through the ruins of Babylon."

Zanuck expects the actors to do publicity interviews for Photoplay and the other fan zines

Press : " ...and what's this we hear about a possible romance between you and Mr Douglas?"
Celia Chamber, monotone : "Yes, there is a certain love interest between me and whatsisname"

Press : "What's it like working with the talented Hungarian import, sir?"
Mark Douglas, male lead PC : "Mr Curtiz is a very fine director - totally professional"
GM as Curtiz, screaming abuse at the extras : "Chins! Beards go on chins!"
Mark Douglas : "This is going to be an Epic - a really great movie."
GM as Curtiz : "****-for-brains!"

Film culminates in the flooding of the set. 15,000 tonnes of water is dumped in, without warning the extras. This actually happened, in real life. Three drowned.

Gunter is up at the reservoir, trying to forestall disaster by sabotaging the sluice gates.

Gunter, caught trying to smash the mechanism with a pipe wrench : "I thought there was a cockroach"

Half the party is already insane and lost in identity confusion, leaving players playing actors playing characters but who now think they actually are the characters - it was that sort of situation, and starting to go a bit metaphysical. Still coherent and able to separate the Dreamlands from what is laughably called Reality, but stuck on a rapidly flooding and collapsing set, that is simultaneously the DOOMed city of Sarnath, surrounded by hundreds of screaming extras, a horde of ghosts, and a Great Old One, John stands his ground.

John Ford-Welham : "I'm going to act my ass off in this scene. Because it may well be the last thing my ass ever does."

Ran a bit overtime, but a lot of that can be put down to the players being helpless with laughter at the image of Great Old Ones on rollers skates - XanaDOOM. Reducing me to groans of pain with "In Hollywood, floodery will get you everywhere" didn't help either.

I ran it for two other groups, too, who had heard rumours and reports about it.

As a bonus, it gave me the opportunity to run up some back-up PCs. Thus, I could happily designate some as 'Meat' and not leave the player with nothing to do. Also, I can throw in John Wayne as an NPC ( Trufax : Wayne was one of the extras that didn't get killed or crippled during the filming of Noah's Ark )

Me, GM : One of the changes Zanuck has insisted on for the refurbished Babylon set is as many ornamental ponds and fountains as you can fit in. You'll probably all go home with malaria, but it could be worse. You could be filming RKO's The Conquerer and all go home with radiation poisoning.

Me, GM : That's just one of the things that's making this movie an unmitigated disaster - Curtiz at least wanted you to act. Zanuck wants so much ham it's probably just as well he's the only [1920s] producer who wasn't Jewish

Me, GM : *On Zanuck's press releases* It would appear that on top of the captive zebras, okapi, elephants and dik-diks, he's also got a wild hyperbole

Zanuck : Can you make their costumes more Fonickyian?

Me, GM : Red-footed wamps thrive in ruins and places of corruption - I'm sure you'll agree that Hollywood qualifies as the latter

Cameraman PC : I've got a starting SAN of 25???
Leece : Well, we told you not to snort developing fluid

Regarding the very real movie I redid as a Mythos film

Stuntman's Player : A Noah's Ark story with a parallel WWI plot?? What???
Me, GM : *nods* Apparently there's a burning bush scene as well. Don't ask me why, it made sense to Zanuck

#445 Cthulhudude


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 03:51 PM

Great stuff, Drhoz. Thanks for the laughs.
No Nyarlathotep, no chaos.
Know Nyarlathotep, know chaos.

#446 Drhoz


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Posted 02 June 2010 - 10:57 PM

Great stuff, Drhoz. Thanks for the laughs.

more to come. Lots more. Wait till you get to the raccoon-camel....

#447 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 10:57 AM

More old quotes from my long-running campaign.

New PC, Blake Harrington, Private Eye - hired to find out why a Riverside landlord managed to get a house ridiculously cheap, and why he can't keep any tenants in it. The landlord neglects to mention that the previous tenants all fell victim to various freak knife accidents, mysterious illness, and insanity.

Yes, I'm running The Haunting. Care to place bets on whether the bed gets anybody?

You know it's going to be a good night for GMing when you can reduce your players to nausea merely describing the domestic terrain.

There's a tureen of rice soup abandoned on the table. Looks like it's been there a few weeks. Certainly, it's difficult to differentiate between the rice and the maggots.

Most of the house is junk rooms or clearly abandoned in a hurry, but the discovery of few bottles of cheap red plonk in the kitchen made Lucy's day.

Blake Harrington, PI OOC :

"Cheap wine and a three day growth .... of mold, in the rice soup."

Me, GM : ... the bed is coming at you fast, some two feet off the floor.
Blake Harrington, PI : I throw myself aside... "Frow him to the fwoor"
Me, GM : It's not a real RPG session until someone quotes Monty Python, is it?

Lucy Smith OOC : In Soviet Russia, bed goes to you.

Harrington continues to explore, alone. This is not going to end well, and I predict a scene like the following

GM, OOC : When the rest of you finally arrive at the house, you find the floors inches deep in blood; and Harrington's head - floating in the tureen, with the soup.

As it was, I was close.

GM: In the corner of the basement you unearth an ornate knife, blood thickly coated with rust.
Harrington's player : Blood???
GM : Sorry, blade.
Harrington's player : He said blood, didn't he?
Rest of players : *nod*
Harrington's player : Dang GMs, messing with my mind....

He does, however, manage to escape alive, and has to explain to the doctors why he showed up with a death-grip on the knife in his own ribs, and a badly twisted ankle, and other assorted injuries.

At least that's my excuse to get the other new PC involved, Dr Terrence Elliot. Yes, the player is a big A Country Practice fan. At least the name is suitably Lovecraftian. Of course, Lucy is immediately intrigued - rich, doctor, and most importantly, single.... it doesn't hurt that he's using a photo of a young Richard Chamberlain - Dr Kildare - as the character pic.

Probably best without context. Amazingly, it was said in innocence.

GM : Lucy here is already wet.

At least I finally manage to get all the PCs together, as they meet over breakfast to conspire about the case.

Alexei Petrovich, possibly slightly jealous about the attention Lucy is giving the doctor : "I don't want to scramble her eggs, I want to fertilise them!"
Harrington's player : *wince* Please, lift the tone!
GM : You've never played with these people before, have you?
Harrington's player : Just raise the bar!
GM : *points from Lucy to Alexeii * She raises his bar all the time.

Alexei does the introductions , but it's been a long night for the character

Alexei Petrovich : Luc... Luce... Loose.. no, that's her morals.

Alexei tells everybody the warning signs for Imminent Supernatural Death

Alexei Petrovich : "If you suddenly smell something bad..."
Dr Elliot : "Blame it on the dog."

Actually, Elliot's dog is useful - further advance warning for Imminent Supernatural Death

Dog : *whimpers*
Dr Elliot, OOC : And that's Doggy-speak for 'Some poor sucker is about to die'

GM, describing the state of Sydney Delthorn by the time he finishes falling down the stairs : There's this new artist from Europe, named Picasso...

Dr Elliot runs through first aid : "Can you hear me? What is your name? Are you awake? Where is your wallet?"

Sydney Delthorn , days later, OOC : "The rest of them are still at the house. I'm in hospital, getting a sponge bath. So I'm happy."

I won't repeat my musing about Unitarian exorcisms, and whether biscuits would be involved.

It eventually ended with a frantic and desperate wrestling match with Corbitt's mummy, multiple shovels, Molotov cocktails, and stabbing the corpse repeatedly in the face. Eventually they dragged it out into the street and set it on fire. It certainly gave the new players a good idea of just how lethal, confused, and farcical Call of Cthulhu combat can be. But at least they bought the house at an even more ridiculously low price than the previous landlord did - he was never going to get his investment back once the history of kidnaps, murder, suicide, disease, cultists, and corpse abuse came to light.

#448 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 11:07 AM

running A Little Knowledge, from Arkham Unveiled

Me, GM : "You'll be pleased to know that your character will be the fish before whom the plot hook is dangled."
Sydney Delthorn's player : "Oh god"

Dr Elliot's player is wearing a black shirt with complicated swirly/floral patterns in shades of grey.

Me : It's a Hawaiian shirt for emos

Me : sabotaging budding PC romance "Of course, you'll have to bear in mind that daughters frequently grow up to look like their mothers"
Players, recalling my description of said parent, what with the dry and greyish skin, rapidly thinning hair, and staring eyes
Me happily : Not reassuring, is it?

I'm quite pleased with my opening this week.

"Arkham, in early December - a mild winter this year, and the university is quiet as the students go into hibernation. The library is warm, however, a pleasant refuge from the weather outside and from your memories of the Corbitt House. Indeed, you've almost managed to stop your doubts about reality creeping into your thesis on French-Canadian folktales. But the morning approaches, and it's time to go home, where a warm bed beckons. Of course, you'll have to step over the mangled corpse on the library steps, first."

Me, GM : No, it's not Walter Corbitt, come back to say hello. For one thing it's got clothes on.

Dr Elliot is on hand to do the autopsy, and his player fears the worst.

Elliot's Player : "... and then the baby tentacles come out"
Sydney Delthorn, Scholar's player : "That's ok - you'll have a sequel. "

PCs involve themselves in the police investigation, as PCs are wont to do

GM : "Badges? We don't need no steenking badges!..... no ferrets or weasels either...."

I then had to spend 3 minutes explaining the pun *headdesks*

The players then launch into 5 minutes of jokes about Viagra. Don't ask. Just... don't.

Me, GM, getting slightly exasperated : "Speaking of stiffs, can we please get back to the Case of the Murderous Corpse?"

And then the Private Investigator's player shows up.

Alexei Petrovich's player, gleefully : "What better for a case with stiffs than a private dick?"

Me, GM pointing out it's still only 1920: "Counseling? This is the era where shell shock was treated with firing squad."

Searching the corpse's dorm room for clues, and finding a nice shelf full of occult texts, parapsychology, etc, and an unfinished letter to one Asenath Waite, mostly about transfer of personality.

Me, GM : "Possession is nine-tenths of the lore."

Me, GM : The painting is a really quite excellent copy of Eakin's Max Schmidt in a Single Scull... that's scull as in boat, not headbone.

I also mention the illustrated German text on nude exercise that his roommate has. Oh boy, do I soon regret it. These players don't need that sort of encouragement. Although it DID confuse the P.I.'s player when I switched to Dr Elliot's testing of tissue samples.

They eventually figure out the connection between the corpse on the library steps, and Asenath Waite cadre of poets, weirdos, and hanger's on.

Alexei Petrovich : "It all makes sense now! She's creating a Dead Poets Society!"

Lucy Smith, on visiting Asenath with concealed weapons : Taking a Colt to a cult, eh?

Me, GM : There's a polished skull encrusted with black wax on the mantelpiece. Headbone, this time

Dr Elliot : "So what are we going to do about the Suicidal Corpse?"
Me, GM : "Now there's a band name for you"

Me, GM : It's the zombies West resurrects that makes Herbert West the best

Attacked by a horde of murderous organs

Lucy Smith OOC : "It's a heart attack!"

Post-game review

My wife ( Lucy's player ) : "You're a bastard."
Me : "I am?"
Her : "I mean that in a good way."

#449 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 11:22 AM

Some quotes from the subsequent week's session, The Crawford Inheritance from Escape From Innsmouth , but first another example of my wife's Smut Field in action

We had arrived at the Gamer's Guild and almost immediately my wife and Barbara vdB starting talking about wool supplies.

Barbara vdB : "I've never seen balls that big"
Everybody : *long pause*
Purrdence ( Lucy's player ) :*starts to snigger*
Me : *counts to ten* "Two minutes. We're here for two minutes...

In HERO system terms, I haven't decided whether 'Always On' is an Advantage or Disadvantage on Purrdence's Smut Field.

The absence of the group's other elemental smut-being this week may or may not affect the game - the two together has a notably synergistic effect, but I fear Purrdence just stepped up the innuendo-power to compensate.

We play Chez Geek whilst we wait for players to turn up.

Me : *reading the 'Gaming Nookie' text* " 'Hey baby, want to come upstairs and see my miniatures?' "
Purrdence: "Isn't that a line you used on me?"

Anyway - the PCs continue to nibble away at the edges of my campaign's central horror - at its penumbra, as it were - but I'm still ensuring enough unrelated nightmares to keep them off balance. I'm also throwing in plenty of minor incidents in between scenarios - minor incidents that will come back to bite them on the arse when they put two and two together. Purrdence was getting very suspicious about the way I grinned broadly and giggled to myself when I think about up-coming sessions.

Me, GM : "[Alexei's player] can't make it this week, alas."
Lucy, OOC : "Darn, I'll have to get my booze elsewhere."

We're missing Dr Elliot's player too - he's been incapacitated by an unliving hybrid, monster - i.e. A flu virus.

The new P.I. never showed, either - perhaps he was got by a dimensional shambler.

On the other tentacle, we have another new player - my brother, a gamer of such magnificent bastardry he has his own Livejournal tag ( where you may read of some of his previous exploits, such as the Wimbledragon Tennis Open, Breeding Mimics for Fun & Profit, and the spell Mass Chicken). He came to my wedding dressed as a Ringwraith. In the Cthulhu campaign he's playing an Irish ex-army sapper, who now drives trucks and does quarrywork, operates steamshovels and the like, for a living. Sure, this gives the party access to explosives, but I'm filing that under "Rope, Sufficiency Thereof"

GM, Me : "You lost half a hand in the Great War, when one of your subordinates did something stupid with a satchel charge. Of course the subordinate lost half his head, but that's OK - he clearly wasn't using it.

He's been hired to drive the truck the party will be using to remove the warehouse contents and furnishings that Lucy's mother has apparently inherited in the shunned town of Innsmouth. Only the three PCs... But what could possibly go wrong? BWAHAHAHAHA

There was some initial confusion - Ian thought the campaign was set in Old England.

Me, GM : "But you're not in Ireland anymore - you moved to America after the GREAT War - specifically, Arkham.
Paddy McGinty's player : "Oh God."
Sydney Delthorn, Scholar, OOC : "There is no god here - only Cthulhu"

I describe the decaying town in some detail - the encroaching salt marsh, the abandoned farms swallowed by wind-blown sand, the town itself, half it's buildings empty and collapsing in ruin.

Paddy McGinty : "Oh look, a slanty shanty."

An Innsmouth local helpfully giving directions : "Across the river and take the first left. Hancock street will be on your right."
McGinty's Player to me, suspiciously "The bridge is still standing, isn't it?"

Ian is playing McGinty as a cheerfully underhanded, argumentative drunk. All of it in the correct accent, too. I just wish someone had recorded more of his glowing report on Innsmouth to mob boss Dan O'Bannion.

Paddy McGinty : "I'm in this little place called Innsmouth, have ye heard of it? Beautiful little place - three police in the whole town, empty warehouses all along the water there " etc.

Innsmouth Police : "Where'd you git that axe?"
Paddy McGinty : "From that shed right over there, ya see"
Innsmouth Police : Then you're all under arrest for breaking and entering
Paddy McGinty : Ah, but the shed's already falling down, ya see - no breaking anything to get in. So technically, that'd be 'entering with intent'.

Me, GM : "...And the kitchen with the old upright stove that you're in."
Paddy McGinty : "He's in the stove?"
Me, GM : "The kitchen - he's in the kitchen"

The Esoteric Order of Dagon gets it's first mention, and three of us spontaneously burst into song.

"Daaaaagon. Da-aa-aa-gon...
Dagon's coming and me wanna go home.
HEY! He say Day he say Day he say Daaaaagon...
Dagon's coming and me wanna go home.
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot TEETH
Dagon's coming and me wanna go home.
No Mister Preacher-man, I am not bananas,
Dagon's coming and me wanna go home. "

Harry Belafonte spins in his grave

And now that we've got an argumentative Irish Protestant in a party that already had a Roman Orthodox, a Unitarian, a lapsed Catholic, and so on, we can expect more appallingly in-character arguments about religion as we got today

Lucy Smith : "But I haven't been to church in ages!"
Paddy McGinty : "So, you're not only a dirty catholic heathen...
Me, GM : "...they aren't even a good dirty catholic heathen."
Sydney Delthorn, ( Unitarian ) meekly resigning himself to mediate : "I guess I'll be baking some cookies then."

Paddy McGinty regarding deceased npc : She's gone to a better place... If she was Protestant.

My wife hasn't read much Lovecraft - so she's unaware of the history of Innsmouth and the biology of the Deep Ones. As such, she had no idea why this line, about one Ralsa Marsh, great-grandson of Obed, reduced me to hysterics.

Lucy Smith : *sniffs* Men like that never change.

McGinty, as part of his repairs to the house Lucy's mother has inherited, has declared war on the raccoon the PCs have assumed lives in the attic. This includes getting caught in his own improvised fish-hook lined raccoon-trap, setting off fireworks at 3 in the morning, and making home-made grenades from glass bottles stuffed with blackpowder and rusty nails.

The other player-characters are getting slightly annoyed with the explosions and gunfire late at night, and want to know why he's so enthusiastic with "His little bang-bangs"

Me, GM : It's his wild Celtic spirit that loves to blow things up ... Just ask the IRA.

Continued next entry, when the PCs figure out it isn't a raccoon and go running for help.

And overheard from another table

Hagadorn: *after blowing both legs and an arm off a vampire* "And now I'm splashing holy water on the stumps. 'The power of Christ compels you - bitch' "

Edited by Drhoz, 03 June 2010 - 11:30 AM.

#450 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 11:44 AM

The Crawford Inheritance continues - a few spoilers below

Miss Smith discovers she's inherited more than a crumbling three-storey home from her late great-grandparent. And it's not as if the furniture is really worth carting off for auction, either. Ah well - maybe that truckfull of mysterious carved stone blocks ( from a strange temporary island off Tierra del Fuego ) that they found gathering dust in the old family warehouse will be worth something, one they're reassembled.

When last we met, Paddy McGinty's war of attrition against The Raccoon That Should Not Be was not going well. Possibly because there's more than one of them. Or at least, the footprints coming back to the house are twice the size of the one that left. What other conclusion could there be?

PC religion continues to come up with some frequency. Paddy McGinty's prejudices for example. Sydney Delthorn, of all the things in Innsmouth to be disturbed by, finds the irreparable state of the Unitarian church most perturbing.

Paddy : They'll all be stuck in Limbo
Lucy Smith OOC : Is that so bad? I've heard it's pretty fun *does limbo dance*
Petrovich OOC : Yes, I can all too easily picture you dancing with a pole. *leers*

Me, GM : "I'd rather expected your stand against the Esoteric Order to be a desperate hold on normality vs. the unbearable truth of how the world really works, but if you want to make a contest between competing faiths I won't stop you. After all, homicidal religious mania is a common enough insanity. Just look at any history book. Or the news."

Of course they find other ways to expand a simple one-session adventure into 12 hours of in-character bickering

Petrovich : "What's that?"
McGinty : "Best drink in the wooorld - Irish whisky"
Petrovich : "Ah, the poor man's vodka"

McGinty describes how he lost half his fingers in the Great War

McGinty : Some wee gobshite blew off me fingers
Petrovich : Gobshite? What is this thing, gobshite?
McGinty : *describes Sydney Delthorn*

Petrovich : Oh, you are the Irish. I thought you were the Scots.
McGinty : Roight, where's me gun

Injured in his own fish-hook-lined raccoon trap, McGinty sterilises the wound with alcohol.

McGinty : *pouring shots onto arm and into mouth respectively* One for you, one for me
Petrovich OOC : And after a while 'Well my arm isn't hurting anymore' *finishes bottle*

Descriptions of the raccoon that nobody has actually seen yet get increasingly confused. The total lack of Natural History skill in the louder members of the party don't help.

Me, GM : So, are you going to look, or are you going to believe their stories of raccoon-camel things that live in the attic?

Petrovich OOC : Follow the script!
Lucy Smith OOC : Tom Cruise doesn't
McGinty OOC : But he has the laser-beam eye
Three of us : *frenzied one-eyed squinting and writhing and over-acting ensues*

Delthorn's player : I'm not writing that one down - it's just one more pun in the long road to Hell

Delthorn : I'm putting a tin of Pork'n'beans in the trap as bait
Lucy Smith : Do you open it first?
Delthorn : No, I'll leave a tin opener so we can see just how smart this raccoon is :D

McGinty sings to keep his spirits up. The quantity of spirits that goes down is also noteworthy.

McGinty : I have a voice loike an angel
Me, OOC : Lucifer, possibly.

Petrovich and Delthorn watch with interest as a drunken McGinty and Smith drive back from a neighbouring ruinous house they're using as firewood. Before long Lucy has run over McGinty and the truck has ended up in a ditch. Twice.

Me, GM : The trucks headlights are pointing into the sky now. It's like that scene in Tremors where the station wagon gets eaten by a Graboid.

McGinty is aware of Ralsa Marsh's less than pure interest in Lucy Smith

McGinty OOC : "He was checking out your batty-boos and jubbly bits"

Not exactly surprising, really. Innsmouth residents really aren't very pretty people. Even the purely human ones can alarm you, if run into unexpectedly.

McGinty : Oh, she's got a face like a hatfull of assholes, to be sure
Me, GM : Yes, I imagine brown paper bags are a valuable commodity in Innsmouth.

Petrovich & Smith get some private time for nookie, after his successful seduction technique

Me, GM : Well, he's got you convinced - apparently Russians can do amazing things with their eyebrows.

Me, GM : Don't forget, this is the 1920s. You'll need to keep one foot on the floor

The locals turn nasty. The party get nervous and start planning to barricade themselves in, or escape whilst they still can.

Smith : We've got shutters - let's shut them

Alexei : We need a plan. I say we get in the truck right now.
Me, GM : Ah, the great Russian plan - F***offski. And it works so well in all sorts of circumstances. Napoleon invading? F***offski. It works even better if you set the place on fire as you leave.

They plan an ambush for the creature they think is being hunted by the torch-wielding mob out in the salt-marsh. They hear it outside the back door, moaning "Poppa, Poppa" over and over

Lucy puts two and two together, and realises it's her grand-uncle, who been locked in the attic slowly starving to death for the last 40 years, until they players inadvertently let him out to feed and grow.

Lucy from upstairs : "Don't shoot, it's my Uncle Gregory!"
The rest : *relax, relieved, lowering weapons*
McGinty : Gregory? Come on in.
Delthorn : Wipe your feet!
Gregory does come in - an 8 ft tall, scaly fish-man, with bulging eyes and three-inch claws.

#451 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 11:51 AM

At this point Paddy McGinty had yet to encounter any actual magic, and isn't overly impressed by the Esoteric Order of Dagon, either ( Don't worry, he soon learned better - BWAHAHAHA )

Paddy McGinty : So what if this bunch of bastards stole a name from the Bible. And it's right there in black and white - Jesus already kicked Dagon's arse.
Lucy Smith OOC : I'd pay to see that
Paddy McGinty OOC : Pay-per-view. Tonight's deathmatch -
Haysoos el Saviour vs. Dagon! In the red corner 45000 pounds of fish, in the blue, the Lamb of God! They fight not just for the title, but your immortal soul!

#452 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 12:36 PM

At this point the first of my long cons paid off. Finally got to run the homebrewed Cthulhu adventure I've been planning for months - the one that ties together all the clues about Boston crime bosses, stolen gold, the Miskatonic U. library's lending policy on the Necronomicon, and the reclusive 'Mr Smith' that I'd been dropping in between the scenarios

Me : "That reminds me - I have to do some research on vampires before Saturday's game"
My wife : "What kind of vampires?"
Me : "All kinds - hungry ghosts, vampire tools, hair-eating Burmese vampires, blood-sucking squash..."
My wife : "If any of them sparkle, they're getting staked on the spot"
Me : "No, no sparkles - well, there may be fireworks, but no sparkles."

And to my utter pleasure, and no little thanks to deliberate red herrings such as the quote above, they went in armed for vampires, and got Vitus.

Vitus Drhazz ur Kashrak ul Rraschd is a character I've played in a three other campaigns and game systems. He's a gnoll sorceror & somewhat notorious at the games club. For example

Me : I wish you'd stop saying he's a casual killer. He's an extremely deliberate killer.

Me : He's not amoral. He's quite ethical. It's just that his moral compass is slightly skewed.
Other GM : Slightly skewed???? It's so perpendicular a Hound of Tindalos would be impaled on the point!

The rest of the players from the previous campaign, invited over to spectate on the reveal, were all vastly amused or grudgingly impressed. Players currently involved in this campaign, not so much Posted Image

My wife, player of Lucy Smith and in another campaign, Vitus's concubine: Oh, you ****er. You ****ing ****er. Come here so I can slap you. AND you're sleeping on the couch tonight.

My wife, for the rest of the evening : Bastard
Me : But am I a magnificent bastard? Posted Image

It was an understandable error on the investigators part- weirdo moves into country house, he never comes out during the day, he's never been seen by anybody other than his assistant, who goes into town to buy strange chemicals, rare books, and human blood by the bottle...

They just didn't know it was the assistant that drank the blood.

In case anybody thinks having Vitus turn up is a Cthulhu game is out-of-genre, I point out that dimension-hopping animal-headed sorcerers are not only Chaosium-canon
they're Lovecraft-canon, too! Through The Gate of the Silver Key, anyone? And the tapir-snouted Swami from Yaddith had the advantage of his own TARDIS - Vitus had to find his own way to the Great Library in the Pleiades.

But that was all at the end of the session - Game opens with the PCs waiting at one of the Arkham cinemas for their friend the PI 'Hammer' Dragovic, before they go in to see the evening movie - Nosferatu. It just so happened to be released that year, by a happy coincidence - Posted Image . He's a no-show - apparently he had a hot lead on $40,000 worth of stolen mob bullion. He doesn't show up the next day, either, and his friends start getting nervous.

Elsewhere, Sydney Delthorn is delivering the Miskatonic U's copy of the John Dee Necronomicon to the farmhouse 'Mr Smith' is renting. Months of negotiations between 'Smith' and Armitage, through the intermediary of 'Smith''s assistant one Edwin Masters, and with some $35,000 of gold offered as a surety against it's safe return, has finally paid off. As Mr Masters takes the book upstairs to the unseen 'Smith's' room, he hears what might be muffled shouts and thumping coming from the root cellar. He later discusses his fears with his colleagues.

Paddy OOC: Are you sure it wasn't a raccoon-camel? (referring to the party's theories about the Thing in the Attic, last session)

Paddy: I'm just the glorified chauffeur around here
Lucy : ...and don't you forget it

Lucy doesn't feel up to anything energetic - she's still recovering from being slashed half open by her great-uncle Gregory last session.

Lucy : Going to the flicks is one thing - dancing is right out - I wouldn't want my guts to fall out on the dancefloor
Me, GM : Yes, the 20's gave us so many great dances - the Charleston, the Foxtrot, the Intestine Skid...

Alexei : I was down at the speakeasy feeling merry. Then Mary left.

Me, GM : what will the neighbours think of you leaving a strange man on the doorstep?
Lucy : That I've got standards.
Me, GM : Lucy? Standards? When did that happen?

Their choice of movie viewing colours their theories about what's actually going on at the farmhouse. My efforts to dissuade them do nothing but strengthen their conviction that they're up against a vampire. BWAHAHAHAHA

Me, GM : Why are you leaping to all these conclusions? Because you just saw Nosferatu? Just as well you didn't see The Circus, or you'd think you the upstairs room was full of murderous clowns. Or A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court - is there a bunch of knights on bicycles in the bedroom too?
Sydney : But the noise was coming from the basement
Me, GM : Ah, that makes sense - there's more room down there.

I will make no comment about the PCs lewd theories about what Hammer Dragovic was really up to, other than to say Dr Horrible's Sing-along Blog got a reference, and party raised eyebrows when they discovered Hammer had pulled off into a side-street.

Alexei : *trying to get back in to Lucy's good books* We brought the beautiful scenery with us
Paddy : Stop blowing smoke up her arse or I'll have to start calling her a chimney

Group starts planning ways to get to the house - an isolated farmhouse with open fields on every side, and neighbours certain to notice any shenanigans that occur during daylight hours.

Paddy : Gottit! Protestant doorknockers
Me, GM : You already got a pair of Catholic knockers here *points at Lucy*
Lucy: Lapsed Catholic
Alexei : You know a better bra will stop them lapsing so far. Lapse any further and the underwear will be a camel toe.
Me, GM : Raccoon-camel toe.

Underwear also feature when they finally manage to get to the house, at 2 in the morning on a moonless night, and realise they've left the lockpicking tools back in the truck. Lucy suggests they use the underwire from her bra. They don't even think about the wisdom on trying to sneak up on a suspected vampire in the middle of night until they're already at the house. Arguments get increasingly heated, and loud, but that's all irrelevant - Vitus has been awake and watching them from the bedroom window since they fell into the drainage ditch earlier. Not that they realise this until too late. The PCs belatedly realise they really should be trying to be stealthy, and pretend to be chickens.

Me, GM : *long look at Lucy's player* As far as I know chicken don't go *uck *uck *uck *uck. Although maybe Lucy chickens do?

The Guild gets a bit chilly in winter - Alexei's & Lucy's players rug up under one blanket

Paddy's player : Oh look, it's the Siamese Idiots
Alexei's & Lucy's players : *sing the Siamese cat song from Lady and The Tramp, complete with dance moves*

They discover that the kitchen door has already been kicked in anyway. Paddy privately thinks that this is a good thing, since it means his three 'business partners' from the Mob have already been, and obviously three armed men against one will easily beat anybody that was in the house. There's no need to be stealthy anymore. Then they discover the three mobsters beaten unconscious in the root cellar.

Paddy : **** Posted Image

Dragovic is there too, chained to the wall & gagged. His first words once they get the gag off is "Run! For the love of God run!" Alexei, Lucy, & Sydney consider this eminently wise advice and flee for their lives. Paddy, on the other hand, elects to stick around.

Lucy, later : That's Dragovic for you - always thinking of others. Unlike that Irish bastard McGinty, who throws grenades into the kitchen the rest of us are already in

Paddy still expecting Nosferatu: I'm waiting for a creepy bald head to come round the corner. Then I'm going to blow it off.

Of course I wanted to be fair to the players - Vitus was not going to use any magic with two exceptions ( and in the end didn't even need to use those) and his physical skills all wound down to merely competent. I also scripted his actions and responses in advance, unless the players did something silly to give themselves away ( happily, they did). On the other hand, I did split the players up, so that they couldn't use player-knowledge to inform their reactions, when, say, their point-man sticks his head around a corner, screams, and starts blazing away at something on the stairs. It upped the panic wonderfully. The enchanted knife they picked up in the Corbitt House would have been an advantage - if they had remembered to bring it.

Me, GM : The bullet whines off into the darkness
Alexei : Stupid whinging bullets

Vitus takes them down hard, leaving half of them with broken jaws, hairline skull fractures, and so on. He used a length of pipe for most of it. It's not pretty. They resign themselves to a dramatic fade to black, and are quite surprised to wake up in the basement.

Me, GM : It would appear the werewolf-thing has run out of chain. But that's ok, since you so thoughtfully brought all that rope with you.

Vitus is standing in a chalk circle consulting the Miskatonic copy of the Necronomicon he 'borrowed', chanting and gesturing violently in a bestial tongue.

Alexei : *looking at Lucy, understandably worried* you're not a virgin are you? *thinks this statement through for a moment, visibly dismisses it, and turns to Sydney instead*

Vitus pierces his own palm with the tip of a dagger, and presses the bloody palm to the foreheads of the eight captives, and snarls. I act all this out, of course, circling the table.

"Take heed, humans. Should you ever raise your hand against me again, I have given my creatures leave to drink your soul. Every flea, every louse, every tick and bedbug and floor maggot will be free to pierce your skin and kill you by degrees. One bite, and every chill and fever is more of your being gone to feed their kind. Do not cross me - for I am Wrath, and every crawling creature of your your world can be my eyes."

And then left town, leaving the Necronomicon behind, since the starmaps Dee re-drew for his edition are uselessly inaccurate for his purposes. Not that the PCs know this, and they now fully intend to read the book cover to cover to find out just what that bastard did to them - BWAHAHAHAHAHA

And the best thing about this? It's all a total bluff. The chant was Vitus's commentary on the PC's incestuous ancestry, and what he'd like to do to them, in his native tongue. Sure, there are enchantments and geases he could have used but Vitus is prejudiced against that particular college of magic.

Anyway, I prepared a Mythos CYOA, in advance -

Understandable Mistakes

Anyone would have made the same error - the reclusive SCHOLAR, who never left his HOUSE in the DAY, and his regular order of human blood from the SANITARIUM. Of course you thought he was a VAMPIRE. Who would have expected an alien WEREWOLF-thing, who now has you and your ALLIES chained in the basement for further SPELL research?

Heroic Adventure, +8, +3 San

#453 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 12:54 PM

Oh, and the only reason Vitus didn't curbstomp them the moment he heard them crashing around the farmyard, falling into ditches in the dark?

He was certain that anybody this incompentent had to be a distraction from the real attack.

#454 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 01:45 PM

More fallout from their encounter with the werewolf-thing, before moving on Dead Man Stomp - The investigators want to know more about this Dee Edition version of the Necronomicon.

Me, GM : Doctor John Dee, court astrologer, diplomat, magician and spy. He even applied his numerology system to the code numbers in his spy ring. His own number was 007.
Murray : You're kidding
Me, GM : Nope. And he translated the Necronomicon into English, which I don't believe we've seen Daniel Craig do yet.
Paddy McGinty OOC : Right, that's it - I'm reading the Necronomicon to get irresistible sex rays too

Paddy McGinty : A werewolf [actually, gnoll] kicked me in the ****s so hard they vanished. Now when I cough I hear a 'rattlerattlerattle'

But later...

Me, GM : "You know how your ****s only recently became reacquainted with your groin? Well, they want to go on tour again.

You'd think he'd learn to start wearing a cup. The party search the farmhouse top to bottom, a few days later after they're been sewn back together and the police eventually leave.

Me, GM : The laundry has never been used
Player : Well, it is a bachelor pad

Paddy McGinty attempts to divert police attention from the existence of homicidal hyena-man sorcerers by claiming the farmhouse's inhabitants were German spies.

Paddy McGinty : They've been coming around the quarry trying to buy dynamite! They must want to blow up dams and flood America!
Me, GM : Must be all that experience you had as a sapper - you just keep digging yourself deeper and deeper

One of the things they recover from the house, now that Vitus has cleared out, is a small beaker of what hey come to refer to as Super-Booze, and a crumpled recipe apparently in cuneiform. It's Vitus's faulty attempt to make Space Mead. McGinty and Lucy nonetheless mix the stuff with orange-juice and get happily plastered ( Don't you just love players who do stuff like that with unidentified potions?). If he can decipher the recipe McGinty intends to supply the stuff to every speakeasy on the East Coast - it's so potent a few drops makes you sway on your feet.

Col. Conrad Lancaster, Retired : *On Space Mead & Orange Juice cocktails* Actually that would be a Space Mead Sunrise
Me, GM : But which sun?

Paddy McGinty & the Colonel don't really hit it off the first time they meet - Irish vs. English? I'm not surprised.

Col. Conrad Lancaster, Retired : I'm reminded of a young lieutenant, from Dunsborough specifically, who told me that the Irish once saved civilisation. Then they had a few Guinness and forgot where they put it.

Paddy McGinty : I hate you English
Col. Conrad Lancaster, Retired : The feeling is more than mutual, which is odd because your women are lovely
Paddy McGinty : And yours lie around like dead fish

What with McGinty, Petrovich & Lancaster all roleplaying their characters top the hilt, the sessions have become Battles Of The Dueling Accents

Dead Man Stomp -

Me, GM : Will you stop calling it the Devil's Trump? I'm aware that you might not have read Paradise Lost, but it's the archangel Gabriel that traditionally carts a trumpet around - the devil has a fiddle.
Col. Conrad Lancaster, Retired : The angels are the brass section, the devil is the string section. We're the percussion.

Their looks of horror when they realised, for example, that the jazz man's dead wife isn't the only corpse at the cemetery were gratifying though. It only took 15 minutes for that to occur to them.

And the adventure climaxes with Colonel Lancaster standing on top of a truck blazing away at the encroaching horde of zombies, and singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic

Col. Lancaster : Mine eyes have seen the BLAM glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage BLAM BLAM where the grapes of wrath are BLAM stored;
He hath loosed the fateful BLAM lightning of His BLAM terrible swift BLAM sword:
His truth is marching on BLAM BLAM

But elsewhere at the Guild - Macho women with guns vs. a vampire, in a butcher's shop

Vampire : "Rarhgh!"
Macho Woman : looks down, grabs some of the stock, throws overarm, THUNK
Vampire : looks startled, clutches chest T-bone... Steak... To the heart!

#455 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 02:07 PM

And yet more quotes - I've still got a few months of gaming to work through yet :D But fear not, after that the quotes will only arrive fortnightly :)

Me : "I've had Battle Hymn of the Republic stuck in my head for two weeks now - I blame you lot for this. It doesn't help that it randomly interposed lines from Little Peter Rabbit and He Jumped From 20,000 Feet either. Well, that or All Along The Watchtower but that just comes from watching a season and a half of Battlestar Galactica in a week.

By this point in the campaign, investigators include

Lucy Kennedy, ( actually Smith ) Star of the Silver Screen. Also a closet alcoholic who's social currency is dropping like a stone
Paddy McGinty, Son of Eire, veteran of the Great War and driver for an up-and-coming Mob Boss
Alexei Petrovich, Russian Fringe Scientist, Drunkard and Lech.
Blake Harrington, Private Eye. Also current owner of the most haunted house in much-haunted Arkham.
Sydney Delthorn, dedicated scholar, currently working on a cover-to-cover translation of the Necronomicon. Poor, damned, fool.
Col. Conrad Lancaster, retired across the pond to establish Lancaster's Antiquities. This won't end well.

Me : "Considering your story about how Vitus was a German spy who wanted to flood America - a story I point out you didn't rehearse with your colleagues - managed to implicate three of O'Bannion's best leg-breakers in a case that now interests the Treasury Department AND the State Department, you're lucky you haven't ended up in a ditch somewhere. More likely several ditches. Failing to acquire those gold bars, and learning that Vitus had used Bonato's little black book as a firelighter didn't help any either.

Admittedly you have managed to redeem yourself by neatly torpedoing Bonato with stolen accounts, scrapbooks, and a truckfull of smuggled liquor, as well as proving that the gold bars Vitus was passing around were last in Bonato's possession. The police are going to be very interested in why he never reported them stolen. I can only put this down to the Luck of the Irish.

On the other hand O'Bannion hasn't followed up on your idea of setting up a smuggling pipeline through Innsmouth yet, so ditches may still feature in your future.

GM, Me : Ah yes, the postal services of Innsmouth. They include a free gift with every letter they deliver. Admittedly the free gift is a rock. And they seem to get letterboxes and windows confused.

My brother has been playing a lot of the Cthulhu PC game

Him : I don't like shoggoths D-8
Me : Of course not. Nobody sane likes shoggoths. Well, apart from anonymous_jess, but she always was a delightfully strange girl.

Despite this he states his intention to befriend one.

Me : Please consider - Abd al-Hazrad, the author of the Necronomicon, possibly the most truly knowledgeable human to ever walk the planet, frantically denied shoggoths were real....

Me : The only reason Vitus didn't swat you all immediately was because he was sure your display of blithering incompetence had to be a distraction from the real attack

A small interlude adventure ( From one of the Innsmouth book's Adventure Seeds ) about reassembling a strange stone archway one of Lucy's ancestors found on a small island of Tierra del Fuego. It took a few months, but they managed it.

Me (GM) : The thing stepping out of the arch is about 9 feet tall with a corrugated, barrel-like body.... five paddle-footed tentacles around the bottom... five branching tentacles around the middle, and five blood-red eyes with sphincter-like eye-lids, on stalks around the top.
Paddy McGinty to Lucy : Not another one of your relatives is it?

Me (GM) : The thing blinks at the three of you, and politely pads around you on its way to the warehouse door. Where it starts to vivisect a cat.
Lucy's Player, noted ailurophile : AAiiiweeaww, Drhoz!!!!

Sydney Delthorn : I pick up the rod it dropped
Me (GM) : By all means. You might even figure out how to switch it on. And if you're incredibly lucky, you might even learn how to switch it off before it boils away the atmosphere in a stream of anti-neutrinos.

Me (GM) : Let me get this straight... the one-picosecond burst from the Parallax Cannon annihilated half the truck, the pit bull that was inside the truck, a large section of wall behind the truck, and flayed half the skin from McGinty's body with scattering effects, and you want to put this down to a kerosene explosion? I'm going to love hearing how you explain the Tommygun fire beforehand.

Paddy McGinty : ... can I get another dog?
Me (GM) : Sure. It'll help you clean up the remains of the cat, for one thing.
Lucy's Player : Aiiaaww!!!!!!

Some downtime as they disconsolately review the various artifacts and books they've acquired ( i.e. pocketed from crime scenes ), and realise they don't dare use any of them (just the way it should be )

Paddy McGinty : Rightio... so we use this Last Trump here to bring back all your relatives
Lucy Smith : All they sent back of Father was his hand.
Alexei Petrovich OOC : So we bring him back, he still looks good
Sydney Deolthorn OOC : He's got pretty cuticles

Getting his geography of New England slightly confused

Paddy McGinty : ...no the road just keeps going and going and going and then we're in Texas

Alexei Petrovich : I pocket the elephant gun
Me (GM) : It's going to take a pretty impressive success at Conceal to hide that
Paddy McGinty OOC : *mimes placing a large long gun into his pants, then walks with one leg rigid*
Lucy Smith OOC : Is that an elephant gun in your pocket or are you really happy to see me?

Later, reassuring Lancaster's player

Me : You didn't miss much, really. Well, apart from the Elder Thing, and the party picking up a weapon that can chew its way through the planet in less than a day.

#456 Drhoz


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Posted 03 June 2010 - 02:21 PM

Investigators this game

Amy Wells
, daughter of the New England aristocracy, slumming it as a nurse
Paddy McGinty, proud bearer of an impenetrable Irish accent
Sydney Delthorn, "Brainy likes his booky-wook"
Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret., English collector and trader in strange antiquities

Quizzing Amy's player about whether or not Amy's a Boston Brahmin leads to this old ditty

"So this is good old Boston,
The home of the bean and the cod,
Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots,
And the Cabots talk only to God."

Another encounter with Innsmouth for my players -

Spoilers for Bless The Beasts And Children


It's a neat little adventure - the hook a kidnapping, the challenge to find and rescue - but also enjoys a backstory that will horrify the players even when they leap to wrong conclusions ( a neat trick ). As another benefit the book includes, IMHO, the archetypal illustration of an adult Deep One, in some of the best black-and-white lineart Chaosium's has ever published. It was certainly what I had in mind when I put the following together in Spore.

Posted Image

All kudos to John T Snyder then

And more opportunity to wax stomach-churningly lyrical - I do so enjoy watching my players wilt when I launch into that sort of polysyllabic prose - they know they've just stumbled on something bad.

GM, Me : "Ah, the sense of smell - oldest of the senses, pre-dating even sight. Bound inextricably to our reptilian brains, so close to memory a mere whiff can trigger flashbacks of almost numinous intensity. For Proust, it was Madeline biscuits. For you, the sickly-sweet aroma of Passchendaele and Verdun - the scent of human corpses, bursting with rot."

GM, Me : "No sanity loss for seeing the corpse, you two - you're war veterans. You could have tap-danced from Paris to Berlin on the things. Although they would have squelched a bit underfoot, I admit."

Lancaster makes a mental note

Col. Conrad Lancaster OOC : Shoggoths are not tribbles and should not be treated as such when encountered

Me, GM : I don't really need Lucy Smith this session, and it's easy enough to write her out. No doubt she's staying in today, drinking herself further into an alcoholic stupor
Lucy's Player : How about she got called out of town for a job? Some location filming in New York, maybe?
Me, GM : Not a Broadway production of Shoggoth on the Roof?

Me, GM, reviewing the PCs : We've got lapsed Catholics, Irish Protestants, Russian Orthodox, Anglicans, and the comic relief - also known as Unitarians

Me, GM : No, you are not going to crossbreed pitbulls and Hounds of Tindalos. **** off.

PCs spot a clue - children's cutlery in a childless house

Farmers wife: We had the niece and nephew over a week ago
Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret. : So you haven't done the dishes in a week?
Me, GM : *pause* Good point.

At the climax, Lancaster parks himself on a clifftop, reloading his rifle and taking potshots at unarmed nannies as they escape out to sea in dinghies.

Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret. : So... Battle Hymn? No, inappropriate under the circumstances. Ah, I have it - 'Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, dum dum dummiliddydumdum, dum dum dum'

Me, GM: reconstructing villain's backstory : ...and dragged back to shore, rolled over to see the face of his rescuer...
Delthorn, OOC: ribbit

Lancaster donates a large sum to the Massachusetts State Hospital For The Insane

Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret. : Especially for anybody that gets brought in raving about monsters and alien gods.
Me, GM: So you'd like to fund the wing for people driven insane by the party's 'leisure activities'?
Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret. : Not just us - I'm financing the Clue Factory

Paddy acquires a flashy Packard car, more Tommy guns, and some violin cases

Col. Conrad Lancaster, Ret. OOC : He's getting in on the bottom floor there...

That's enough quotes for tonight, I'm off to bed...

#457 Drhoz


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Posted 04 June 2010 - 06:51 AM

I wish there was a rep button on these forums - some of the quotes here have me rolling on the floor :D *continues to work through years worth of back entries*

Anyway - Didn't run the intended adventure - Purrdence got sick again.

Me, GM : Dueling accents again - I've got three of you that don't stray from the Russian, Irish, and English, and then there's Purrdence's laryngitis. With her character's suspected Deep One ancestry the croak is totally in character too...

Me, GM : Given Purrdence's lack of voice, I suppose I could always run the silent movie adventure - just let me photocopy some subtitle cards

Instead I ran 'Furious Driving' from Fearful Passages, and baffled the group with a Call of Cthulhu plot with no supernatural elements at all. Or at least comparatively minor compared to everything else that's been happening to them.

Spoilers below...

It overlapped the end of the last game, where the party bravely rescued two kidnapped infants from drowning. No mention need be made of the fact that they wouldn't have been drowning if Lancaster hadn't gunned down the unarmed nannies that had been rowing the boats out into the surf.

New PC Amy Wells, psychiatric nurse, wanted to know what the horrifying creatures under the beach-house were. I made the mistake of letting the Irish drunkard answer.

Paddy McGinty : Oh, that? It's one o' them there fish-men from Innsmouth. We ran into one before. Lucy's Uncle Gregory. You haven't met Lucy yet - ask Alexei about her, she's his sweetheart.
Alexei Petrovich : *shrugs* I'm kind of going off her, actually...
Me, GM : Been there, done that?
Paddy McGinty : Shoot 'em a few times, they go down easy enough.
Amy Wells : You shot her uncle???
Paddy McGinty : Wellllll... I only shot him a few times. It was Alexei here that actually did him in, ya see.
Me, GM : It was a group effort...
Amy Wells : You killed her uncle and you're still lovers????
Me, GM : He does keep her supplied with booze...
Paddy McGinty : Yeah, these fishy folk - they start off just plain ugly, then they turn into them things. *opens the icebox* See? I kept the head.
Amy Wells :
Col. Lancaster : *sigh* I suspect I'll be making another donation to the mental hospital...
Paddy McGinty : So there you go. Uncle Gregory was a Fish-man. Or shaved bear, maybe.
Me, GM : Shaved what???
Paddy McGinty : Shaved bear. I mean, did you see the size of them there claws?
Me, GM : *headdesk*

The hook for this adventure gets planted between the aftermath of that debacle and the PC's names and addresses getting helpfully plastered all over the dailies. You can be sure the Innsmouth cult are keen newspaper readers.

Nonetheless, in this session the party is tracking down someone who happens to be Irish. So's his mother. Paddy is quite put out that he missed the opportunity for tea and scones with a fellow expatriate.

McGinty to Lancaster : I'm going to punch your teeth so far down your throat you get bite marks on your sphincter

Paddy McGinty : *hopefully* Protestant?
NPC : Catholic.
Paddy McGinty : You puir Papist bastard *hands over a bottle of hooch* Have some o' this, you need it.
Me, GM *drily* : Please, continue with the in-character religious arguments - religion is a marvelous insulation from the horrors of reality. Of course, as insulation it ranks right up there with asbestos fibre

Missing out on Tea & Scones ( Skonnes? Scunes? ) is just more emphasis on Rule One of Call of Cthulhu

McGinty : Rule One - Never split up the party. Never split up the party.
Rule Two - if you shoot it and it doesn't die, run away.

Lancaster's player : *watching me, arms crossed, with a curiously mixed expression of disgust, admiration, and anticipation*
Me, GM : Figured out what's going on, have you?
Lancaster's player : Maybe. If I'm right, you're a bastard. If I'm wrong I'm using the idea in my own game.

Much horror was endured, including Lancaster's recipe from Kippers in a Brandy & Port caramelised sauce - for breakfast

And an example of what happens when the players ask me multiple questions at once

McGinty : Did he take anything with him when he left?
Me, GM : Yes, her appendix

The other question was "Do we know what killed her?" Lancaster's player sprays his drink from his nose.

Lancaster's Player : It was all fine until the nasal cavity was breached

Amy Wells, to suspect who hasn't been writing to his dear ol' Mother : I sympathise (with all the sincerity of someone who also doesn't write home to Mom)

Attempting to puzzle out why the client has sent them after his brother,

Lancaster : You're sure you were born in Ireland? What part?
NPC : Yes, of course I am. Puckoon.
Lancaster : I've an acquaintance who insists he was born in downtown Ireland...
Petrovich : His mother was pretty sure too. After all, she was probably there when he was born

I did challenge Posted Imagekyu_kage, Lancaster's player, to come up with a song at one point (after his success with Battle Hymn , and Rule Brittania in previous sessions ). To my delight he immediately improvised a little ditty about being run over by a Chevrolet. Unfortunately nobody wrote it down :(

He did come up with an appropriate soundtrack when the party 'encouraged' the client's family doctor not to to flee the scene.

Me, GM : He falls unconscious from the pain after about the third kick. And what would an appropriate song be here, do you think?
Lancaster : The Nutcracker Suite?

I also got to traumatise Amy Wells some more, after she climbs over the ruins of the French window to find Paddy McGinty up to the following

Me, GM : The car is wrecked, the engine roaring - the old man and his wheelchair has been concertinaed flat against the fireplace - the drapes are alight, the son is lying twisted on the floor with his intestines spilling out a wound the size of your head, and Paddy McGinty is standing, illumined by the flickering flames, his shadow a monstrous silhouette against the wall, and repeatedly beating a cancerous looking thing with the butt of his shotgun, snarling like an animal with each blow. RRAGGH!! THUNK! RAAAGGHHH! THUNK!
Amy Wells :

Wells & McGinty manage to drag the son and the old man's nurse out of the building before the whole place goes up, and sit back to watch it burn

McGinty : Wait.. where's that doctor?
Me sweetly : Still in the house, where you left him unconscious from repeated blows to the progenerative organs.
McGinty : ..... crap.

#458 Drhoz


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Posted 04 June 2010 - 07:52 AM

Paddy McGinty & psychiatric nurse Amy Wells spend a week at Lucy Kennedy's place, recuperating, avoiding the police, and getting to know the neighbours. Tormenting Lucy about her Deep One relatives was fun, too.

Me, GM : Looking a bit green around the gills there...

Me, GM : And Lucy here does drink like a fish :twisted:

The party continue to learn more of the rules of survival in CoC

Me, GM : Yes, about the way you 'acquired' that Packard... this isn't D&D - the rule isn't 'Kill ugly people and take their stuff', it's 'Kill ugly people and burn the place to the ground as you flee'
Paddy McGinty : Hey, we let that mansion last week burn didn't we?
Me, GM : And that one in Innsmouth, too...
Lucy Smith : What about that one with the mummy? We burnt that, didn't we?
Me, GM : Nope.
Lucy Smith : No?
Me, GM : No. You just set the occupant on fire.

Just the sort of conversation to make Amy rethink her association with these people....

Me, GM to Amy : You're running into more dangerous lunatics on your days off than you do working at the asylum.
Paddy McGinty : And out here we have tommyguns! :D

Paddy McGinty wants to experiment with the Last Trump from Dead Man Stomp and resurrect Lucy's Uncle Gregory, who is currently split between a shallow grave in the backyard and an icebox in the garage.

Paddy McGinty : Then he'll be a ... Fish undead... raccoon camel ... thing.
Lucy Smith OOC : Don't forget naked mole rat

The description of the thing they ran into last week gets slightly convoluted too, as they try to explain what happened, to Lucy.

Paddy McGinty : There was this monkey thing.
Amy Wells : Conjoined twin.
Paddy McGinty : Monkey thing!
Amy Wells : We couldn't see it over the steering wheel...
Me, GM : So, an invisible conjoined monkey twin...
Paddy McGinty : It also looked like a kidney
Weldun, passing by: Only because it was curled into the foetal position! ... How is it that I've only known you a few weeks and can guess that detail?

I also managed to reduce my players to slack-jawed horror with some of the descriptions, which is always gratifying.

Amy Wells's Player : You know I'm going to have nightmares about this tonight, don't you?
Me, GM : Great! I can show you the picture again, if you like :)

... and squicked two of them emulating Lucy's mother. Simply by stretching my eyelids apart as far as they'll go, and STARING

Ethical conflict was enjoyable for me, too. It's one thing gunning down some hybrid nurse you've never met before, but it's another thing entirely when it's an NPC you've known for years, and the GM has been mentioning what a popular neighbour he is since the start of the campaign - BWAHAHAHAHA.

Mr Corbett from Mansions of Madness

I've been mentioning this NPC since the start of the campaign - he's been a source of medical aid, looked after Lucy's mother when she's been out of town, provided fresh fruit and vegetables from his yard, and was even the one who warned them fishy-looking people have been watching her house.

I got some very dirty looks from the players when they found out what he did in his spare time

Lucy Smith : Not Bernie! He's practically family! No wait, you shoot my family...He's a friend! A friend!
Paddy McGinty : I don't care! You've never met a man crazier! Well, YOU [ to Amy ] might have

Paddy McGinty : Look at the state [Lucy's] in, dribbling all over herself... well, that's normal - but she isn't drunk this time!

Paddy McGinty : Use your brain, gel - what's going to happen if we do call the police again? 'Why, hello there, officer, could you come back over, our neighbour's

- ' Why certainly sir, wait right there and we'll send a nice van around with a nice white jacket just for you' and then it'll be two big bastards and an injection in me bum and off to to the loony bin

Paddy McGinty : Confucius say : Walk softly and carry a big stick. I don't have a stick but this here revolver is a dandy substitute

Me, GM : You wake up tied to Lucy's bed with silk handkerchiefs
Paddy McGinty : Aw dammit, now why don't I remember any of this?

And to my further delight, Paddy accidentally murders a suspect

Me, GM : You just beat a man to death in your pyjamas... 'But what was he doing in my pyjamas?'

#459 Drhoz


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Posted 05 June 2010 - 01:07 AM

Continued aftermath of Mr Corbett, with the party explaining to Colonel Lancaster what they got up to in the week he was in hospital, and taking him down to Lucy's basement to show off what they caught in their dear friend Bernie's basement

Paddy: ‘Innit a cutie. I'm going to call it Gemma’
Col. Lancaster : *loses Sanity* *bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbrrrbbbbbrrrrbbrrrbbrbrbbrbrrrr*

Needless to say Lancaster later fed the thing a boxful of rat poison. And then had to hurriedly leave a conversation with a lawyer and tackle McGinty to the ground wen he saw him go to his truck for the trumpet from Dead Man Stomp

Paddy explains what happened. At some length. Including cheerfully admitting to manslaughter and illegal disposal of a corpse. Also including the hallucinations he suffered when Bernie drugged his glass.

Paddy McGinty: ... And there was this man in the corner going BOOGIE!BOOGIE!BOOGIE!...’
Col. Lancaster : *still says nothing, but finishes off his other hip flask of neat Scotch*

It's always nice to see a player reduced to facepalm and muffled whimpers, because he knows exactly what the implications of letting Bernie and 'Son' escape will be

Paddy : (about that Son) It had about 10 legs and 15 arms and no head. Like one of them there starfish things.. no, sea urchin, that's the critter. It was a cute little thing. So I let 'em move back to India. They worship all sorts over there. And I've always said everyone’s allowed to worship their own gods. Just not Satan.’

Needless to say, the rest of the PCs are now certain that Paddy's been Got At. But at least he came out ahead after the whole run-screaming down-the-street-with-soiled-trousers thing.

Paddy McGinty: I got new pants out of it! It's what you call a win-win situation
Col. Lancaster : *sigh* He's gone from hijacking truckloads of booze to stealing pants....

The Colonel thinks that Lucy Kennedy will be a better source of explanations...

Col. Lancaster : *in a Cuban-American accent* Luccccyy! You got some 'splainin to do!

Paddy McGinty: No worries, we'll just look around for a police box.. i mean police phone!
Me, GM: Police Box? You do realise just how bad things are going to get if I ever let Doctor Who turn up in this campaign?

Lucy : We could always plant the Elder Sign around the house in lilies.
Me, GM: Perhaps something a little less funeral...

Hypothetical Mayor: ‘Here’s a medal for bravery...’
All-too-believable Paddy: ‘Oo givit 'ere ya ponce, I’ll put it on meself!’

Me, GM: ‘Ralsa Marsh – Like Salsa with a R... Salsa, but tastes of fish.’

Despite their extreme reluctance, it looks like the PCs are going to have to go back to Innsmouth. They prepare accordingly.

Me, GM: Ah, the dating scene in Arkham
Col. Lancaster : You pack the revolver and I’ll pack the thermite...
Amy Wells : How about a nice drive down to the coast?
Lucy : There's no such thing anymore

Paddy McGinty: ‘I thought I'd be a more gentle and caring person, but I’ve just gone back to killing people. Hey ho.

Col. Lancaster's Player: Just because you can't find the body doesn't mean [the corpse] isn't out there plotting revenge

Paddy McGinty: Holding Ralsa at gunpoint as luminous green slime drips down the windows ‘You’re not leaving until this house is clean!’
Me, GM: You’re been egged by the Outer Gods

Paddy McGinty's player:fails Listen check ‘I roll 100 - my eardrums explode.’

Col. Lancaster : I’ll take [First National Grocery manager] back to Arkham, it sounds like there’s a grocery store going cheap.

Me, GM: *regarding the Innsmouth police* Not Irish, but a different group of bloodthirsty Philistines

Paddy McGinty OOC: If he's been attacked by a giant flying slug, no wonder he ran off into the salt marsh

Me, GM: My parents took me to Innsmouth and all I got was this lousy genetic complaint.

#460 Drhoz


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Posted 05 June 2010 - 02:08 AM

After months of dragging the players deeper and deeper into the morass of a certain seaside town, I finally inflict 'Escape From Innsmouth' on them. Col. Lancaster, Lucy Kennedy, Amy Wells & Paddy McGinty return to Innsmouth, after several months of getting their names in the paper for frustrating Deep One plans, shooting unarmed hybrid nannies in the head, and so on. They also sign the Gilman Hotel guestbook with their real names & addresses, and are installed on the fourth floor of the hotel, with Lucy's invalid mother ( wheelchair-bound!!! ), in a town where at least 60 inhabitants are going to recognise them on sight. Naturally, as Keeper I could barely keep my grin from splitting off the top of my head.

They start the session way off-balance, because as far as they can tell the monsters are killing each other.

Me, GM: You're pretty sure that was Ralsa's shoe you found in the vitrified crater. At the very least he left his foot in it.

McGinty's player gets his geography slightly confused...

McGinty's player : We should have a horse, like the Massachusetts Rangers.
Me, GM : The who??? Do you mean the Texas Rangers?
McGinty's player : Oh yeah. Texas & Massachusetts are next to each other, aren't they?

The group are unimpressed by the food in the dismal diner. Even the toast leaves much to be desired.

Paddy McGinty : It could be a raisin ... No, it's a weevil

They also speculate somewhat wildly about the disappearance of the First National Grocery manager.

Col. Lancaster : The shelves aren't laid out in an occult symbol, are they? Customers walking from aisles 1 to 5 re-enacting an ancient Babylonian ritual?
Me,GM: No, the grocery is entirely Euclidean. The walls are flat, the floor is flat, there are no acute angles behaving as if they were obtuse.The only obtuse things around here are sitting in front of me.

Me,GM : Maybe his girlfriend had PMS?
Amy Wells, OOC : PMS doesn't make you break into groceries
Me,GM : But you do grow three-inch claws and punch in windows?
Amy Wells, OOC : Well, yes. But you don't break into groceries.
Lucy Kennedy, OOC :Sugar rush?
Amy Wells, OOC : Good point. Maybe it WAS her

Lancaster's opinion of McGinty hasn't improved

Col. Lancaster : I served in the Great War four four years and met quite a few of his countrymen who thought they'd got a wedding ring from a pineapple

Paddy McGinty : I've got an alarm - it's a hand-grenade and a piece of string. It sure gets you up in the middle of the night. See?
Col. Lancaster : Put the wedding ring back in the pineapple, McGinty.

Me,GM : No you can't buy a man-trap at the variety store! I don't want you getting out of bed in the middle of the night and loosing a leg!
Paddy McGinty OOC : waves mangled hand I already nearly lost an arm! I could lose a leg too and still be useful!
Me,GM : As busy as a one-legged Irishman at an arse-kicking contest...
Col. Lancaster : What do you call an Irishman with one arm and one leg?
Me,GM : cautiously Whaaaat?
Col. Lancaster : A half-wit

Eavesdropping -

Dr. Marsh to persons unknown : Is this some punishment on me because I'll never change?! You let Averill kill my only son!
Paddy McGinty OOC : I knew that Lavigne woman was evil...

McGinty gets his backstory confused again. Particularly which side of the Irish Civil War he was on.

Me, GM: Must I remind you again that there's a slight difference between the IRA & the Ulster Volunteer Force?

Me, GM: You do have money. Lancaster throws cash around with as much enthusiasm as McGinty throws improvised explosives. Admittedly with more constructive results.

They fled Innsmouth ( after shooting Joe Sargent and stealing his bus, no less )

Me, GM *gibbering*: You already knew things in Innsmouth were deeply shady, that you were potentially implicated in the death of one of their favoured sons, that you were most definitely involved in the murder of unarmed citizens, and that the local police were lying about cases, and that somebody was going through your luggage at the hotel... But you went to the Innsmouth police to report a case of child neglect! I realise that suicide is an entirely appropriate reaction to Lovecraftian horrors, but there are easier ways to do it!

Lucy Smith OOC : We're going on a magical murder mystery tour

Lucy Smith : We go to the bank to get all our money out
Me,GM: In the middle of the night?
Paddy McGinty : That's *one* way to get money from a bank...
Amy Wells : Perhaps we shouldn't add bank robbery to everything else we achieved?

Paddy finally explains why he got so disturbingly enthusiastic about Bernie's invention of magical microsurgery and limb transplants, in a long impassioned speech about his war-mangled hand

Paddy McGinty : "... and when I can sew bits on I'll be a whole man again!"
Amy & Lucy : *long pause.... collapse laughing*

Paddy McGinty : Lets go to Las Vegas!
Me,GM : Where?
Paddy McGinty : Las Vegas!
Me,GM : Where? The Las Vegas you're thinking of doesn't exist for another 20 years
Paddy McGinty :.... Must have got a vision of the future when I got that brick to the head.
Lucy Smith OOC : Hang around 20 years and you can meet Bugsy Siegel and appear in the biopic. Who'll play you?
Paddy McGinty OOC : Brad Pitt!

They managed to avoid the worst consequences of their escape from Innsmouth because they figured out one of the new PCs was a government agent in disguise. I was flabbergasted, not least because it completely derailed my plan for the next few sessions. I've never had my schemes this badly upset before, and that includes the time the PCs actively aided & abetted the monsters because the NPC they were supposed to protect was an inadvertent doppleganger of a RL person they couldn't stand.

Paddy McGinty : *Rocking on spot, cradling a shotgun, and singing a little song about bombing the hell out of Innsmouth*
Col. Lancaster OOC : *smack* I'm the only one who sings around here!

Paddy McGinty : You know how I've got a bit of an arsenal?
Amy Wells : I'm sorry, you're a what?

Lucy Smith : How did you lot ever become the superior sex?!
Paddy McGinty : Nobody ever said we were superior, we're just better.
Amy Wells OOC : Can we just shoot him?
Me, GM: I'm sure they're be plenty of opportunity for friendly fire in the assault on Innsmouth, if McGinty gets his way.

Me, GM: Can you please explain where you're going to get a truckful of exploding hookers?
Col. Lancaster : Pop-rocks & coke. Drive down an old country road to Innsmouth, jump out, and you're set.

Other plans including speedboats and Undead Abraham Lincoln

Me, GM: Mrs Smith expires from her long illness and multiple high-speed vehicle pursuits.
Col. Lancaster OOC : She is survived by her daughter and several kippers. The family ask that donations of plankton be made to the local aquarium.

Trying to dispose of the body

Lucy Smith OOC : How about we take her to the zoo?
Amy Wells OOC : They did rely on the public feeding the animals for part of the diet
Me, GM: Somehow I doubt that includes dead mothers

Lucy Smith : We saw McGinty's trumpet *player goes bright red when she realises what that sounds like*

Col. Lancaster : I did have sleep, I gagged myself!

Eventually they stop their flight from Innsmouth to New York and go to the authorities for help. Lucy is very unhappy about this - she was entirely prepared to keep on running until she hit the East Coast, especially since the hunters from Innsmouth effortlessly tracked them from state to state, no matter how many times they split up. Thus setting up the 'Raid on Innsmouth' scenario - McGinty is eager to volunteer.

Paddy McGinty : Sign me up, smack a stamp on my arse and off we go!
Col. Lancaster : 'Property of the US Army'

So the PCs now had the might & influence of the US government on their side - and believe that this will do them any good at all.