On the Orient Express
This week, we returned to alternative 1930's earth, as the party that had visited the Mountains of Madness and solved the mystery of the Synchonised Pointing Loons in Australia. Once again we tangled with pan-dimensional beings out of hyperspace who had a tendency to possess humans and cause them to rush about gibbering, making sacrifices and really bad decisions. We started out in the Anderman Islands, where we *mostly* managed to keep the carnage to the necessary minimum, then went to Egypt, where mystical dreams and rumours led us to an archaeological dig in the desert, and where we recruited to our party a street urchin, Mahmoud, who played the oud.
From there, we followed clues to London, where magic-practicing cultists demanded that we demonstrate a magic trick in order to gain membership to their club,which was the cover story for the cult. I have to admit I fell down on this one, but there were some excellent tricks involving vanishing rabbits, banana-chopping at a distance, terrible things being done to balloons, and unsuccessful manoevers with cups and balls (we concluded that for best performance, cup-and-ball tricks are best performed with three identical cups. Not three randomly assorted and unique mugs).
We wanted to infiltrate their ranks to investigate the disappearance of a chap who had been working on a new vanishing trick, and appeared to have succeeded all too well. Eventually, we found him chained naked an altar in the attic, as you do. Well, I say we. My character, Medusa, who is notably low on endurance and not terribly , tottered to the nearest Lyons tea room where he had a nice refreshing cuppa while the rest of the party waved their guns about and got excited.
We tangled with the Sons of Agamemnon and later, with the Sons of Aeneas - two secret organisations which had been fighting each other down the centuries since the Trojan War. We felt that their natural antipathy must be greatly exacerbated by the fact that they must surely be forever getting each other's post.
Someone gave us some tickets for the Orient Express, for reasons that don't seem entirely clear to me now but made sense at the time, and so we were off to Paris (where we had steak and chips and explored an asylum) to Lausanne (where we discovered a hideous murder scene in a taxidermists shop and a portal to a disturbing purple-skied alternative universe), Milan, Venice... all the way collecting body parts for an Exceedingly Beautiful Woman sculpture that someone had dismembered and distributed across half of Europe.
Finally we arrived in Constantinople (not Istanbul) after a fearful scene of carnage on the train, which was, unusually, not our fault in the slightest, but perpetrated by a particularly loopy pan-dimensional being out of hyperspace who enjoyed possessing human beings and causing them to race about gibbering and leaping at people's throats. Oh, and Autumn Rabbits (Alias:Miss Maude Millington) lost an eye. And there were amazing piles of Turkish food (real food! It was the Live Roleplaying of the Stomach!)
In conclusion, we managed to not release any further overpowered pan-dimensional beings out of hyperspace, which was probably the best possible conclusion. Although poor Mahmoud (and his oud) were horribly slaughtered, which I thought was a terrible shame.
This is not the most coherent campaign writeup. There are several reasons for this.
1) Az was quite ill at the start of the week, and I really thought we might lose him. Fortunately, after blood tests, it turned out that it wasn't that his kidneys were failing (hurray!) but that he had some sort of bug. An anti-nausea jab and some antibiotics have helped a lot although he is still using his Old Dog licence to demand sausage, liver and other delicacies at regular intervals.
2) Once Az started perking up, I came down with some nasty bug or other myself, and kept dropping off despite all attempts to concentrate and unable to enjoy the mountains of excellent food available. Not sure if this is related to:
3) nightmare patch of eczema on one of my legs which has got all infected and swollen. Am actually considering taking the dratted thing to doctor next week to see if I need antibiotics too.
4) randomly demanding customers and people who seem to struggle with idea of 'I am on holiday this week, so please only contact me if very urgent'.
5) getting carried away with drawing things, during the period when actually conscious, concentrating, other things beginning with C. I may scan some of them if I get a mo.
And now I am more shattered than a shattered thing and I have a pile of things taller than a very tall pyramid built of human heads that I absolutely must do tomorrow, so, to bed!
From there, we followed clues to London, where magic-practicing cultists demanded that we demonstrate a magic trick in order to gain membership to their club,which was the cover story for the cult. I have to admit I fell down on this one, but there were some excellent tricks involving vanishing rabbits, banana-chopping at a distance, terrible things being done to balloons, and unsuccessful manoevers with cups and balls (we concluded that for best performance, cup-and-ball tricks are best performed with three identical cups. Not three randomly assorted and unique mugs).
We wanted to infiltrate their ranks to investigate the disappearance of a chap who had been working on a new vanishing trick, and appeared to have succeeded all too well. Eventually, we found him chained naked an altar in the attic, as you do. Well, I say we. My character, Medusa, who is notably low on endurance and not terribly , tottered to the nearest Lyons tea room where he had a nice refreshing cuppa while the rest of the party waved their guns about and got excited.
We tangled with the Sons of Agamemnon and later, with the Sons of Aeneas - two secret organisations which had been fighting each other down the centuries since the Trojan War. We felt that their natural antipathy must be greatly exacerbated by the fact that they must surely be forever getting each other's post.
Someone gave us some tickets for the Orient Express, for reasons that don't seem entirely clear to me now but made sense at the time, and so we were off to Paris (where we had steak and chips and explored an asylum) to Lausanne (where we discovered a hideous murder scene in a taxidermists shop and a portal to a disturbing purple-skied alternative universe), Milan, Venice... all the way collecting body parts for an Exceedingly Beautiful Woman sculpture that someone had dismembered and distributed across half of Europe.
Finally we arrived in Constantinople (not Istanbul) after a fearful scene of carnage on the train, which was, unusually, not our fault in the slightest, but perpetrated by a particularly loopy pan-dimensional being out of hyperspace who enjoyed possessing human beings and causing them to race about gibbering and leaping at people's throats. Oh, and Autumn Rabbits (Alias:Miss Maude Millington) lost an eye. And there were amazing piles of Turkish food (real food! It was the Live Roleplaying of the Stomach!)
In conclusion, we managed to not release any further overpowered pan-dimensional beings out of hyperspace, which was probably the best possible conclusion. Although poor Mahmoud (and his oud) were horribly slaughtered, which I thought was a terrible shame.
This is not the most coherent campaign writeup. There are several reasons for this.
1) Az was quite ill at the start of the week, and I really thought we might lose him. Fortunately, after blood tests, it turned out that it wasn't that his kidneys were failing (hurray!) but that he had some sort of bug. An anti-nausea jab and some antibiotics have helped a lot although he is still using his Old Dog licence to demand sausage, liver and other delicacies at regular intervals.
2) Once Az started perking up, I came down with some nasty bug or other myself, and kept dropping off despite all attempts to concentrate and unable to enjoy the mountains of excellent food available. Not sure if this is related to:
3) nightmare patch of eczema on one of my legs which has got all infected and swollen. Am actually considering taking the dratted thing to doctor next week to see if I need antibiotics too.
4) randomly demanding customers and people who seem to struggle with idea of 'I am on holiday this week, so please only contact me if very urgent'.
5) getting carried away with drawing things, during the period when actually conscious, concentrating, other things beginning with C. I may scan some of them if I get a mo.
And now I am more shattered than a shattered thing and I have a pile of things taller than a very tall pyramid built of human heads that I absolutely must do tomorrow, so, to bed!