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Friday, November 6

Dawn Biozyme: Part 7 – "Power Plant"

The agents kicked open iron doors stenciled with the words “Power Plant.”

Inside, an ominous cylindrical metal device was mounted on iron clamps in the center of the chamber. The vaguely bullet-shaped apparatus sprouted a jumble of wires that snake into a hole in the floor.

Hammer looked at it curiously. "Weird. It's not running."

Jim-Bean frowned. "That's because it's not a power plant." He pointed to a curious-looking chamber at the center. "This is a firebomb."

"Is it armed?" asked Hammer.

Jim-Bean shook his head. "Not yet." more

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Thursday, November 5

Dawn Biozyme: Part 6 – Cnidocyte Containment

Hammer slipped past two steel doors. The prominent magnetic card reader and the “airlock” between the exterior and interior chambers demonstrated the scientists’ desire to secure the interior chamber. However, both doors stood wide open.

Inside, stainless steel plates lined the large room. Six-foot tall metal and glass containment vessels lined the walls, while at least twice as many three-foot tall vessels marched in long rows down the center. The vessels all resembled incubators for premature newborns, except for their varying size.

Flashing lights lined the bases of many of the vessels, apparently displaying interior temperature, humidity, and more obscure data. The glass fronts of many vessels were fogged by humidity, but despite the translucency, it seemed that some of the largest containers may contain people. About half of the vessels, both large and small, were smashed open, dark, and empty. The floor near these vessels was slick with clear, gelatin-like smears.

Hammer tapped on the glass of one of the nearest small vessel. It jerked suddenly from the struggles of a tertiary cnidocyte trying to get out. Tentacles probed the glass looking for a way to get at Hammer.

Besides the incubator vessels, a small countertop in the room’s center held several sealed liquid nitrogen vats. Each vat was labeled “PRIMARY SOURCE.”

Hammer rolled the vat to the doorway. Jim-Bean nearly tripped over it.

"What's that?"

"Liquid nitrogen," said Hammer. "Thought we could use it."

Jim-Bean stuck a few blocks of C-4 to it. "Maybe to stop those tentacle things."

"The tertiary cnidocytes?"

Jim-Bean shook his head. "Bigger. And angrier."

"That'd be the secondary cnidocytes." Hammer gazed ruefully on the larger smashed containers. "What about the security team?"

More explosions echoed from further down the hallway. "What security team?" asked Jim-Bean with a straight face. more

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Wednesday, November 4

Dawn Biozyme: Part 5 – Red Dots

Hammer edged out into the hall, his ears assaulted by a cacophony of alarms and the soft country rock of WTHQ 101.7. Two bodies littered the hallway, both missing their heads.

Jim-Bean noticed a red dot on the wall. It was joined by another. And another. "Uh…"

"Down!" shouted Hammer.

Short bursts of automatic fire peppered the wall above their heads.

The agents ducked through a door that opened into an adjoining hallway. Hammer closed the door halfway. Jim-Bean knelt down on one knee and rifled through his satchel.

"That must be security," said Jim-Bean.

Hammer returned fire through the opening. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving a little present for our new friends." He attached blocks of C-4 around the door. "I'll set this off when they come through."

"Great." Hammer looked over his shoulder at the dark corridor. "No way to go but deeper in." He ran down to the only door at the end of the hallway, kicked it open, and then ducked inside. more
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Tuesday, November 3

Dawn Biozyme: Part 4 – Wolf at the Door

There was a commotion at the far end of the hall. Jim-Bean peeked out around the corner.

"Another one. He's running hard this way."

Hammer drew a bead on him, then lowered his pistol. "What's that behind him?"

A dark, clanking shape loped behind the scientist. The scientist's features were concealed in the shadows of the hallway. As he passed through the flickering lamplight from above, red stains were visible on his lab coat.

A second later something huge and hairy flashed through the shaft of light after him.

He never made it. The thing landed on the scientist's back, smashing him to the ground with one paw. There was an odd whirring sound as its shining jaws, visible even in silhouette, clamped down on the struggle skull of its prey.

"What the hell is THAT?" asked Jim-Bean.

The bear-sized canine-like form ripped upwards, tearing the head from the scientist's neck. Tentacles dangled from the head, tendrils leftover from the cnidocyte's infestation.

With a crunch, the head was pulped in the jaws of the monstrosity. It looked up at the agents at the other end of the hall, eyes flashing red.

A second later an alarm began to sound.

"I don't think it's with the cnidocytes," said Hammer. He took aim with both pistols.

Jim-Bean aimed his pistol at the thing as it broke into a run. "But does it know WE'RE not cnidocytes?" more

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Monday, November 2

Dawn Biozyme: Part 3 – Getting Ahead

Hammer and Jim-Bean caught sight of a figure ducking around a corner.

"Stop!" shouted Hammer.

They sped around the corner to see a technician in a lab coat fleeing down the length of the corridor.

"I said stop!" commanded Hammer again, jogging after the technician.

Coming to the end of the hallway, the man stopped running.

Jim-Bean and Hammer both had him covered with their pistols. "Put your hands on your head."

The figure did as he was told.

"Get down on the ground."

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, face down. His nametag was partially visible: WILLIAM.

Hammer zip-tied his wrists together. "Who are you and why were you running…"

He stopped talking as the man's head exploded. Bits of brain and an eyeball burst in a red spray as what looked like a bloody jellyfish lunged for Hammer's face. more

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Friday, October 30

Dawn Biozyme: Part 2 – Compromised Environment

Sparse night lights provided just enough light to see by, but little more—a few seemed to be out, while others flickered intermittently. All the visible doors were wholly or slightly ajar.

The wavering light revealed clean tile floors and antiseptically bare walls, although strange designs—hard to make out in the darkness—painted the floor and walls at random. The PA system was routed into the local country radio station, WTHQ 101.7. Unfortunately, the PA system was tinny and hollow and the country music eerily played in the darkened rooms and halls.

Hammer pointed at the door closest to the stairwell. It was slightly ajar.

Hammer and Jim-Bean took up positions on either side of the door, pistols out. Covering all angles, they pushed their way in.

Ventilation hoods competed with lab benches for wall and floor space. Every flat surface was covered with bottles filled with myriad chemicals, petri plates, slides, notebooks, and equipment ranging from easy-to-recognize microscopes to rotoevaporators, gel electrophoresis plates, and chromatography columns.

After confirming the room was empty, Hammer took a look at the microscope. "Take a look."

Jim-Bean examined the microscope. The slide showed two cells. They appeared to be much different from each other. They were joined at the ends but were completing the process of breaking off from each other.

"What in the world kind of cell structure is that?" asked Hammer.

"That's the point," said Jim-Bean, shaking his head. "I'm not sure it is any kind of cell structure. Biologically speaking."

There was a muffled thump from a door on the other side of the lab. more

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Thursday, October 29

Dawn Biozyme: Part 1 – Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals

Located on a five-acre plot on the northeast outskirts of Samson, Dawn Biozyme occupied a large new mirror-windowed building and warehouses at the end of a short dead-end street.

Three black SUVs rumbled past a twelve-foot high brick wall that surrounded the facility.

Hammer pointed behind the dark glass of the lead SUV. "See that? Heavy security for a simple lab."

Inconspicuous beneath the ivy toping was an additional two feet of projecting barbed wire, supporting arms, and various passive sensors to deter and detect intruders.

The SUVs rumbled on. The back of the facility opened on two acres of short, dry grass, not yet fully developed. On the other side were equally well-protected offices and facilities of other companies.

The main building was three stories high; the isolated production facility was one story topped by a maze of ventilators, scrubbers, alarms, and gaseous containment devices. The two warehouses were externally identical concrete structures, both three stories tall, both with narrow fixed windows near the roof.

Hammer, Jim-Bean, three lawyers and three accountants stepped of the vehicles. The lawyers and accountants were all identically dressed in gray suits and blue ties. The six office drones were more terrifying than the two agents.

Hammer smirked at the sign taped to the front door.

“Due to the recent tragedy, Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals has temporarily closed its doors to the public. The company is confident the investigation will clear Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals from any connection with the actions of its former employee. At that time, normal business hours will ensue.”

They entered the spacious reception area through wide glass doors. Two receptionists manned a large curving desk situated at the center of the room. At an inconspicuous desk near the only entrance to the rest of the building sat a security guard. Before the reception desk were couches, low tables, and magazines.

"Hello gentlemen," said a young, clean-cut man who smiled a little too much. He approached Hammer with hand extended. "I'm Brad Geary, and I'll be your guide during your review—"

"Who's in charge here?" asked Hammer, pushing past him to the entrance proper.

"Uh, I'm your liaison," said Geary. "Agent…?"

Jim-Bean patted Geary on the back. "That's Agent Hammer. I'm Agent Jim-Bean. These guys…" he turned to encompass them with a sweep of his arm. "Well it doesn't matter who they are, just what they do."

Geary nodded, focused on Hammer, who brushed past the security guards. "Uh, Agent Hammer, you need a visitor badge!" He rushed after Hammer, saying over his shoulder to Jim-Bean. "Please be sure to sign in!"

"Don't worry I'll sign him in," said Jim-Bean cheerfully. more

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Wednesday, October 28

Dawn Biozyme: Prologue

"That's all Sprague said?" asked Jim-Bean, looking bored as he sipped the special protein drink formulated especially for his hyperactive metabolism. He flavored it occasionally with different powders to try to improve the taste, but it never helped.

Hammer nodded. "Take down Dawn Biozyme." He tapped some keys. "The pharmaceutical company's not hard to find. They even have a public web site."

Dawn Biozyme was established in 1985 by Matthew Lewis, a graduate of the Harvard Business School and eldest son of a family long connected to Washington politics. One share was worth $23 the day Hammer looked it up, with two million shares outstanding. Dawn Biozyme was worth about $46 million.

"Looks like Walter Morrow's suicide really screwed up Tiger Transit's plans," said Hammer.

"Who?"

"Walter Morrow. Morrow killed himself because he was trapped by a Hound of Tindalos, remember? Tiger Transit was trying to get him to fork over his shares, but instead they transitioned to his ex-wife, Michelle. Tiger Transit owns twenty percent. Michelle owns twenty five percent and she's not selling."

"Who owns the rest?" asked Jim-Bean.

"MegaCosmos."

Jim-Bean sipped his drink. "Now that name rings a bell." more

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Tuesday, October 27

Chapter 47: Dawn Biozyme - Introduction

Joe L. couldn't play, so we were back to the buddy cop genre wherein one misstep could kill off our heroes. What starts out as a simple raid on a laboratory quickly spirals into chaos as the spawn of the "Source" prove to be much more resourceful and dangerous than the agents thought.

As always, the players surprised me. I didn't have a plan as to how things would play out, including the appearance of an Outer God. I kept my bag of tricks ready and at the appropriate stress points, introduced them. This kept the agents on their toes throughout the entire scenario. It helped that I had disgusting-looking miniatures and some cool sound effects. Specifically, a country music radio station plays in the background throughout the entire Dawn Biozyme facility, so I streamed country western music.

Early in the scenario, a disgusting opportunity presented itself that was almost as good as the "what's in the box" freak-out from a few sessions back. It was completely inspired and off the cuff, and an important lesson in scaring players by torturing non-player characters in front of them. more

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Sunday, October 25

Owlshead Mountain: Conclusion

The agents stepped out of the mound. As soon as Hammer left the mound entrance, his cistron crackled.

"—forget it, leave them! Wherever they are they must have cleared the area—Wait! Sprague’s team is still down there!”

Hammer looked around. He could make out two agents standing at the base of a quietly whirring matte black Bell Helicopter 206B JetRanger III. Another sat in the center of the helicopter manning a heavy machinegun, while a fourth was in the pilot seat.

"This is Agent Hammer, who the hell—"

“This is Agent Bremmer to team leader! Get the hell out of there!”

"Oh great," said Jim-Bean. "It's the BLACK FLAG team to the rescue."

Agent Walach waved them towards the helicopter. “The thing seems drawn to that mound you came out of, so we’re using it as a lure! This place is set to blow a minute after it trips the motion sensors along the perimeter…”

Suddenly a series of high pitch tweets lit up on Walach's cistron. "Ah $#!T." more

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Friday, October 23

Owlshead Mountain: Part 9 – Cooter

A cool blue radiance leaked from several fist-sized hollows in the chamber’s walls ahead. Though dim, the light was strong enough to reveal a pit in the chamber’s foreground. Within the pit, skeletal fragments suggested the form of two bodies, one adult and one child. Both forms were dressed in the remnants of rotting ceremonial dress. Beyond the pit, dry grass was piled in an irregular circle four feet in diameter and two feet high.

"This is Chief Cornstalk's tomb." Waban leaned down on his knees to peer into the pit. "His son is interred here too."

Time had rendered both sets of remains into so many skeletal fragments posed in the hard soil. A small, ornately painted drum lay near the hand of the smaller form, while a strange wooden mask lay upon the fragments suggesting the head of the other.

"The talisman!" said Archive, pointing at the mask.

"Kawkiutl," said Waban.

Hammer inspected the grass beyond the pit. "That's odd."

"What isn't odd around here?" asked Jim-Bean.

"The grass is only a week or so old." Hammer picked something up. "This is Harold Gall's photo ID—"

With an awful shriek, a naked, crazed man lunged out of the grass with a woodsman's ax. more

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Thursday, October 22

Owlshead Mountain: Part 8 – The Mound

The opening exuded the strong odor of new-turned earth. The orifice was only about three feet wide by five feet tall. Loose earth made up the floor, walls, and even ceiling, though countless tiny rootlets were visible in the dirt. The low ceiling and narrow tunnel made single file the only option.

Hammer entered, with Archive soon after. Waban stood uncertainly outside.

Jim-Bean paused at the entrance. "You're not coming?"

"I shouldn't. I'm an old man."

Jim-Bean chuckled. "Oh come on. Your knowledge will be critical."

"Why do you care so much?" asked Waban, suspicious.

Jim-Bean's gaze was momentarily distant. "You remind me of an old friend."

Waban stepped inside. Jim-Bean followed him. more

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Tuesday, October 20

Owlshead Mountain: Part 7 – Introducing BLACK FLAG

Sprague's download of the BLACK FLAG team's profiles told the agents all they needed to know.

AGENT BREMMER: Team Leader, U.S. Army Captain, Ret. Joseph Bremmer was a veteran of Vietnam. In his picture, he wore fatigues and old beaten boots. He leaned on a huge machinegun. With his frosted white hair and lined face, Bremmer looked the part of a grizzled old soldier.

AGENT WALACH: Demolitions Expert, U.S. Army 1st Lieutenant, Ret. Oliver Walach was a small, conservative-looking man. His picture showed a long, dark cigarette dangling from his lips, the glowing ember at its tip just barely visible. A bandolier of grenades was slung across his chest.

AGENT PRESTON: Heavy Weapons Specialist, U.S. Marine Corps Private, Ret. A dangerous-looking man with a bitter glare beneath his cap, Luke Preston held a huge rocket launcher, balanced over one shoulder.

AGENT HULL: Tracker, Big Game Hunter. Arthur Hull was an Australian with the trademark hat, buckskin coat, and huge knife. He was responsible for creating a database on cryptozoology.

All of this flashed across their cistrons to the tune of the A-Team.

"Stop that," muttered Hammer.

Jim-Bean stopped whistling the tune. "Sorry, couldn't help it. These guys are real bad asses, huh?"

"They think they are, anyway," said Hammer. He pulled up to the burial mound. more

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Owlshead Mountain: Part 6 – Old Thomas

Old Thomas Waban was a full-blooded Pennacook Indian who grew up in and around the Townsend area. Nearing eighty, he still managed for himself, living in a shack in the divot between Clastonbury and Owlshead Mountain.

Thomas' shack was a three-room lodge that existed in the wooded depression. The path was too small for motor vehicles, forcing the agents to park by the roadside.

The path wound through the sweet-smelling forest of spruce, pine, and cedar trees for three-hundred yards before opening up into a small clearing. It was located next to a small freshwater stream in a beautiful grassy clearing rich in wildflowers.

The old American Indian was, perhaps surprisingly, splitting wood with an axe.

Hammer stepped out into the clearing, raising his badge. "Are You Thomas Waban?"

Thomas wiped his brow with a handkerchief in his pocket. "Yes. And you are with the government?"

"You could say that," said Jim-Bean with a smirk. more

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Monday, October 19

Owlshead Mountain: Part 5 – Making a Withdrawal

Jim-Bean used Dr. Kline's keys to open the body bank door.

"It's a good thing Kline dismissed everyone for his pathetic booby trap," said Hammer, "or we'd have bigger problems right now."

The chilly chamber was walled on all sides by banks of metallic fifty-centimeter-by-fifty-centimeter metal drawers, three drawers high. Several height-adjustable metal carts stood in the chamber’s center.

Jim-Bean tried to point his pistol everywhere at once. "So which one is it?"

"Hard to tell," said Archive quietly. "Last time we saw the thing in action it was burrowing into you. If it wasn't for the fact that you're not really…"

"Human?" asked Jim-Bean wryly.

"…I was going to say made of terrestrial flesh. My point is we don't know if it can reanimate a corpse or needs a living host."

"It can reanimate a corpse," said Hammer, looking past Jim-Bean.

"How do you know?" asked Archive.

On the far side of the room, a body was sitting up, cloaked in a blue sheet. more

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Sunday, October 18

Owlshead Mountain: Part 4 – The Anterior Sample

Hammer jimmied the lock on Locker 23 and fished out its contents.

Locker 23 contained a glossy flier, a filthy lab coat, a muddy and torn composition book, and a handkerchief with the initials “H.G.” on it.

Archive took a look at the composition book. "There's a few words here: 'this record is the truth' and 'Thomas Waban confirms Cornstalk connection. The talisman is my only hope' on the inside leaf. The first page of the composition book is torn out."

"So we need to find Waban," said Hammer. "That just leaves one thing."

"There's another thing?" asked Jim-Bean.

"The body," said Hammer. "Kline was holding onto it. We need to clean up his mess."

"Can't we just call in a STREETSWEEPER team?" asked Jim-Bean.

"We could," said Hammer, checking the bullets in his Glock. "But if Gall's body is anything like what we found in his car, it could easily escape."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," muttered Jim-Beam as he followed Hammer and Archive down the steps to the basement. more

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Saturday, October 17

Owslhead Mountain: Part 3 – Interrogation

Hammer pointed to Archive. "Wake up the other one."

Archive waved smelling salts under the other agent.

The enemy agent shuddered awake. Realizing the gravity of his situation, the agent pursed his lips.

Archive rolled the prone agent's gurney over to the spotlight.

"Now you, you're not like Melvin here," said Hammer. "You're not some hired thug who got in way over his head. You're a pro, am I right?"

The man didn't even look at Melvin, whose muffled screams were audible in the dark.

"I thought so. This is what we know about you: your name is Jim Williams. You work for Dawn Biozyme. So now we want to know who your superiors are and what you know about Harold Gall."

"F*&k you," he said.

Hammer sighed. "I'm not surprised. You don't think we're serious. Jim-Bean? Show Mr. Williams that we're serious." more

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Friday, October 16

Owlshead Mountain: Part 2 – The Dastardly Dr. Kline

Hammer's cistron chirped. He answered it. "Hello?"

“Hello? Yeah, this is Deputy Fitzgerald. Listen, I saw your bulletin and I just wanted to contact you. I thought the body was taken care of, but after I saw the APB I'm not so sure."

"Slow down Fitzgerald," said Hammer. "What are you talking about?"

"Harold Gall's body. I was on the scene when the body was retrieved by ambulance. I was too late to stop a police report from being filed. They even called in the CDC because of the questionable condition of the body. The CDC agent identified it as pneumonia, but I’m not so sure.”

"CDC agent, huh? Did he identify himself?"

"He didn't give a name, now that I think about it."

"Can you remember anything else?"

"Yeah, the body was strangely bloated, discolored, and leaking a smelly, jelly-like fluid—easily the oddest corpse I’ve ever seen. It was transferred to the Samson Forensics Lab into the care of a Dr. Kline. The reason I'm calling you is because Kline asked me to set up a meeting between CIFA and him at 9:30 p.m. tonight at the rear door next to the loading dock. “

Hammer checked his watch. "That's not long from now. We'll be there." He hung up and threw the truck into gear.

"So?" asked Jim-Bean.

"One of our friendlies stepped forward. They think they have Harold Gall's corpse." more

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Thursday, October 15

Owlshead Mountain: Part 1 – The Thing in the Car

Gall's empty car was first noticed by a Herb Hike of 6060 Fulton Avenue, Samson, who happened to observe Gall's wallet lying open on the front seat. Hike, a visiting researcher at UC-Samson, called police because he feared the locked vehicle would be broken into and the wallet stolen. The responding officers took more than casual notice of the vehicle because the viewpoint where it was discovered was little more than fifty yards from a high sea cliff. Several suicides each year took place there, and the officers knew that people driven to suicide frequently left behind wallet or purse as a memorial or marker.

The vehicle, a late-model BMW, was newly scraped and battered in amazing fashion. Because of the extensive body damage, the reporting officer suggested that the driver may have been drunkenly despondent when he reached the sea, and there climbed over the rail and fell to his death among the rocks and pounding surf a hundred feet below.

Hammer flashed his badge at Lester, the owner of Hurricane Towing.

Lester squinted at it. "Feds huh? Well, come on through." He pressed a button and the gate buzzed open. "Don't know why you boys want to look at it again though."

"We may have missed something," Hammer said nonchalantly.

In the background, a Rottweiler barked incessantly. "Cujo! Cujo, cut out that racket!" He turned back, apologetic, to address the agents. "He ain't normally like that."

Cujo paced. Lester hooked his chain up before the dog could come closer.

As Jim-Bean passed, the dog made a running leap at him, only to be snapped backwards by the chain. Coughing and gagging, the Rottweiler retreated.

"It's okay," said Jim-Bean. "Happens all the time."

"The car's over here," said Lester. "Still drivable. The steering column is broken. Has about a quarter tank of gas."

"Great, thanks," said Hammer. "We'll take it from here."

"Sure thing," said Lester, relieved that he wouldn't have to stand around while the agents investigated Gall's car. "Cujo!" Cujo had begun barking again. "Cujo, calm down! Dumb dog's gonna choke himself to death…"

Archive peered at the vehicle. "You think you're really going to find something?"

"I'd like you two to take a look at it," said Hammer while he wormed his way into the back seat with a flashlight.

Archive whispered some arcane phrases. "Nothing magical about it."

"And before you ask, no auras either," said Jim-Bean.

Hammer reached under the seat and tugged. After a moment he was rewarded with a small plastic container.

"Figures. Warner's boys are sloppy."

Hammer held it up in the fading sunlight. There were patches of a strange residue, perhaps dried mucus or gel, staining the plastic container.

"Whatever was in this, it's long gone—" was all Hammer got out before the thing that was in the container burst out from the back seat. more

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Wednesday, October 14

Owlshead Mountain: Prologue

Pictures appeared on their cistrons of some of the bodies recovered from the incident, and several grainy black-and-white photos of huge cloven footprints found in the mud surrounding them. The photographs of the bodies were horrific. The bite marks on them resembled those left by a shark attack.

“We had a plaster cast made of on the of the hoof marks of the beast,” said Sprague. “It’s three feet long by two and a half feet wide."

"The thing we dropped off at Zymvotek did that?" asked Hammer.

"Looks like our escaped baby is all grown up," said Jim-Bean. more

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Tuesday, October 13

A Night on Owlshead Mountain: Introduction

This story hour is a combination of the scenario from “A Night on Owlshead Mountain” from Arc Dream's Delta Green: Eyes Only by Dennis Detwiller, At Your Door, and The Killing Jar. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

Owlshead Mountain gives the impression that Dennis was tired of "cowboy" agents planning to blow up monsters with huge amounts of explosives. In this scenario, the agents are up against a two-fold threat, one of them being the near indestructible Dark Young of Shub-Niggurath. The creature's immunity to firearms is distinctly different from past incarnations of Dark Young, due to tweaks in the Call of Cthulhu rules. This makes a Dark Young more than just a summoned goon, but a TPK.

Having already introduced the Dark Young in an earlier scenario and with my opportunity to play with time (which I love to do), two weeks later there's a fully-grown Dark Young stomping around the woods of Samson, California. Like Future/Perfect Dennis isn't big on narrative and prefers to let give Keepers the ingredients and then let them figure it out. I prefer a bit more structure, which is why I used a scene from At Your Door and The Killing Jar. more

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Saturday, October 10

Time and Serpent: Conclusion

Cleaned up and reinstated as active agents in Blacknet's database, the agents rested at a nearby safehouse in Samson, California.

"So all this time Ssuthraa was trying to kill himself?" asked Archive.

Jim-Bean nodded. "He was talking about becoming the Prime. I think he was trying to do something over; whatever happened when he was in the guise of Hunt didn't work, so he got access to time travel technology, went backwards in time, and started over."

"Time travel makes my head hurt." Hammer left out the part that at some point, he gained access to time travel and attempted to warn himself.

"Yeah, speaking of which, you said something about how you were the Prime," said Jim-Bean suspiciously.

Archive shrugged. "Heat of the moment, I guess." He too left out the feeling of triumph he felt when he killed Ssuthraa. It felt so right. As if he were the guardian of time and space… more

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Friday, October 9

Time and the Serpent: Part 7 – Zombiesaurus

"What followed you through the portal?" shouted Archive as the pounding became deafening.

The shuddering footsteps were so powerful that debris flaked from the crumbling ceiling.

"This dinosaur followed us…" said Hammer, aiming for the far side of the hall.

"But we thought the zombies killed it."

"Zombies?!" shouted Archive. But that was all he got out as a towering allosaurus roared into the room. A shaft of sunlight from above illuminated a flash of teeth and claws. Its skin was a mottled blue and it was covered in tiny red spots.

The undead allosaurus bore down on Archive. more

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Sunday, October 4

Time and the Serpent: Part 6 – The Prime

Dust fell from the ceiling. Ssuthraa was still standing. Some of the other serpent people slowly got to their feet; others were unconscious from the impact. Archive and Jim-Bean were unharmed.

"I'm afraid your usssefulnesss isss at an end," hissed Ssuthraa quietly to Hammer. Then he turned to the other serpent men. "Look! The intrudersss inssserted an impossstor into our midssst!" He pointed at the corpse of Hunt, which was morphing back into a serpent person. "Kill them!"

Hammer didn't waste any time. He emptied both clips, downing two of the serpent people.

More got to their feet, lunging at Jim-Bean. He went under in a pile of flailing claws and fangs…

Then he burst outwards, flying up into the air. Serpent people were tossed to the side.

Jim-Bean, floating twenty feet in the air, brought his arms together. Rubble from the ceiling cracked away and smashed near Ssuthraa. He tumbled out of the way, but the serpent person next to him was crushed.

Archive was chanting too. Whether he was helping his fellow agents or harming the serpents was unclear.

"Guys!" shouted Jim-Bean, looking up. "I think I can hear fire engines!"

Hammer was backpedaling, firing as he went. "That means…"

"We relocated to the present!" shouted Jim-Bean.

"A CITY in the PRESENT!" Hammer shouted back. He fired and another serpent went down.

Jim-Bean pointed at the ceiling and more rubble cracked away, crushing another serpent person. Blue sky was visible through the cracks. The sound of emergency vehicles was clearly audible to all. In fact, the fire truck Jim-Bean heard sounded very close.

A second later the front end of a fire truck cracked through the rubble. Jim-Bean shifted out of the way as it tore past him, plunging the fifty foot distance to the floor below. It smashed into two serpent people.

Rubble slid down through the opening, creating a ramp upwards. Serpent people ran for the opening, transforming into their human guises, led by Ssuthraa.

Hammer turned and fired, but he was out of bullets. "If they get into the city…" more

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Time and the Serpent: Part 5 – The Throne Room

The throne room was nearly one hundred feet long and carved from obsidian. Every five feet a pillar rose from the floor to the ceiling, twenty feet above the chamber’s floor. The pillars resembled huge malformed bones, twisting in their contorted support of the roof. A group of figures were visible at the far end of the hall; gathered around a device of some sort, but it was impossible to make out anything clearly from such a distance. The only illumination was derived from the machine and its weird lights casting bizarre shadows along the walls of the hall.

As the agents crept closer, a low chanting was audible. It was a strange and alien chorus; the combined voices resonated in a very harmonious way. The chanting became louder and louder.

Eventually they agents got close enough to clearly see the figures and the machine.

The figures were six serpent people. They were dressed alike, garbed in a smooth, flexible armor covered with runes. The runes were closely related to the runes discovered throughout the fortress. They stood atop a dias enclosed with a low wall.

The eighth figure wasn't a serpent person but none other than Arthur Hunt, dressed in flowing red robes, likewise covered with the familiar runes. He stood closest to the machine, hands stretched out in front of him. All of the serpent people seem to be in a sort of trance as they chant ever louder, unaware of the intruders.

"I knew he was a snake man," muttered Jim-Bean. more

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Saturday, October 3

Time and the Serpent: Part 4 – The Mole

It started out as just a mole.

One little fleshy, oddly colored mole on Archive's hip. Nothing unusual.

Then it got bigger. The color changed. It shifted from a normal-looking mole to a weird, fleshy protrusion. A skin tab. Still, nothing that strange about it.

It bothered Archive. Dressing became an awkward, arduous exercise to avoid irritating the sensitive skin tab. And it continued to grow.

Archive went to a dermatologist and paid to have it removed. It was a quick outpatient surgery, the dermatologist told him. And he was right, it was quick.

The next day it was back. more

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Friday, October 2

Time and the Serpent: Part 3 – Everybody Do the Dinosaur

Jim-Bean pounded out into the street, several shambling corpses moaning behind him. The allosaurus, sniffing at a pile of garbage, looked up.

"Jim-Bean!" shouted Hammer in the direction of the gate. "This way!"

Jim-Bean plunged towards the sound of Hammer's voice. The allosaurus roared a challenge and set off after him.

The moaning, which had shifted from a soft background noise that could be easily mistaken for the wind, had become an awful chorus. It was the zombies.

Jim-Bean caught a glimpse of just how many blue-tinged corpses had been animated as he ran through an intersection. Hundreds, if not thousands, were all attracted to the sound of the allosaurus' bellowing. And some of them weren't shambling but running full-tilt, as easily fast as Jim-Bean himself.

He kept running. The crowd of corpses converged behind him, right in the allosaurus' path.

Momentarily distracted by the onset of new if somewhat rancid meat, the allosaurus scooped up a pile of zombies and, tossing them into the air like popcorn, swallowed several whole. Arms and legs that didn't fit into its maw were severed and plopped to the ground.

But more zombies were coming. They clawed at its legs as it strode among them, flattening dozens. It finally had to stop its headlong charge as many jumped onto its back, clawing and gnashing. Unbalanced by the irritating things, the allosaurus collided with a building. The building groaned and teetered forward. more

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Wednesday, September 30

Time and the Serpent: Part 2 – The Wasteland

Hammer stepped out into a nightmare.

It was a destroyed city. Clouds swirled and thundered above. Sunlight barely filtered through, bathing the place in perpetual twilight. Wind tore at him, filled with debris. Hammer choked and ran over to the rusted hulk of a long-since abandoned car, covering his mouth.

Ssuthraa appeared, followed by Jim-Bean.

"Did it follow—" Hammer didn't get to finish because the allosaurus roared through the gate right behind them.

Jim-Bean kept running straight down the street.

"Loop back around!" shouted Hammer. His pistols were out, but they weren't going to help him much.

Jim-Bean ducked into a crumbling building. The allosaurus smashed its snout into the doorway, partially collapsing the façade of the building on it. Roaring in pain, it took a few steps back. Then it lowered its head and slammed into the building again. more

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Tuesday, September 29

Time and the Serpent: Part 1 – The Thing from the Gate

The citadel was constructed of pure obsidian and it reached two hundred feet into the reddish sky. It twisted like a gigantic serpent, looking as if it grew up from the dark plane. It was an ominous sight.

The only opening was at the base, approximately twenty feet high and ten feet across. The interior was shrouded in shadows.

Inside, the fortress was a vast complex of tunnels, passages, and rooms. The passages inside perpetually twisted and turned in seemingly random directions. All were completely cylindrical, like giant tubes.

"Did those worm things build this?"

Ssuthraa snorted. "The Chthoniansss? No, they have no need of sssuch ssstructuresss. They make their homesss deep within the Earth."

Ssuthraa led them through the tunnels.

"Where are we going?" asked Hammer.

"If you wisssh to leave here you will do asss I sssay."

"That's not an answer," muttered Hammer, but he continued to follow the serpent man for lack of any other options. more

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Monday, September 28

Time and the Serpent: Prologue

Confusion never stops
Closing walls and ticking clocks
Gonna come back and take you home
I could not stop that you now know

--Clocks by Coldplay

After trudging across the blasted landscape for hours, they reached a standing stone nearly five feet in height with strange markings on it.

"What is that?" asked Hammer.

"It isss a warning," said Ssuthraa.

"Warning against what?"

Jim-Bean cocked his head. "Did you hear that?"

Hammer and Ssuthraa stopped. "What?" asked Ssuthraa. "What do you hear?"

"Voices…" said Jim-Bean, swiveling his head to pinpoint the sound. He was on utterly barren and flat terrain; there was no way he couldn't see the source. The voices were coming closer…

"…it sssound like?" said Ssuthraa urgently, interrupting Jim-Bean's concentration. The serpent person shook him. "Ssspeak, fool!"

"Hey," shouted Hammer, pointing his pistols at the serpent man. "Step away from him."

"Chanting," said Jim-Bean. "It sounds like chanting." more

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Sunday, September 27

Chapter 45: Time and the Serpent - Introduction

This story hour is from “Time and the Serpent” from Traid Entertainment's Dwellers in Shadow. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

Playing old-school Cthulhu adventures (they're definitely not scenarios) is enlightening. They're basically Dungeons & Dragons with guns. Time and the Serpent is an old-school adventure that involves time travel, dinosaurs, zombies, and serpent people.

I wasn't happy with the outline for Future/Perfect Part Four. It took the scenario arc in a completely different direction and provided a take on time travel that didn't match with what we've already established in the campaign. Time and the Serpent went in the opposite direction and turned the conclusion into time traveling pulp insanity, which is just fine with me.

Like the scenario before it, if the players aren't morons, a lot of combat will be avoided. The agents at this point know when to run when faced with something huge and pissed off. So unfortunately, that means they let the plot sweep them along. They're in unknown territory being led by a cannibalistic serpent man sorcerer, so their options are a bit limited.

The other thing that I wrestled with was when to pause the game. The final battle is tough and I wasn't comfortable having just two agents face off against many serpent people. So I used the gate jumping interludes as an excuse to pause until the next session when we hopefully have more players. more

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Friday, September 25

God Shall Tread: Conclusion

Jim-Bean awoke in a rubble field, under a red sky. Ssruthaa and Hammer were present and unharmed, though their clothing and hair appeared scorched, and they were lying amidst random debris from the gate.

The surrounding landscape was utterly desolate. The dark plain of cooled lava stretched to the horizon in every direction.

"Maybe I should have asked this question earlier," said Jim-Bean, dusting himself off as he rose to his feet. "But where did the gate lead us?"

"Millions of years in the past," said Ssruthaa. "Long before your race learned to crawl."

"Great," said Hammer, glaring at Ssruthaa. "And what are we supposed to do now?"

Ssruthaa shook his head violently, then his whole body shivered. The human form melted away, replaced by a distinctly serpentine shape. He pointed one long finger at a giant structure in the distance, silhouetted against the reddish sky. It was a strange and alien building, twisting like some behemoth serpent up into the sky almost two hundred feet.

Though the great structure appeared clearly, it was quite a long way away. It could take the better half of a day to reach the alien edifice.

"Ssstart walking," said Ssruthaa. more

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Thursday, September 24

God Shall Tread: Part 8 – The Gate

A fully armed Hammer followed Ssruthaa and Jim-Bean down to the Level Six. Little attention was paid to them. It was a busy level. People ran down the hallways, many in odd jumpsuits, combat boots, gloves and helmets.

The final level underground was a maze of pressure locks, airlocks, huge, reinforced steel and carbon bulkheads and more. Colored lines meandered on the ground and on the walls, leading particular groups through the maze of rooms.

As Ssruthaa led them towards the gate, moving through various rings of airlocks, the air pressure, humidity and temperature seems to shift. Near the center, humidity was nearly eighty percent, and the temperature was approximately ninety-eight degrees.

"I don't like this," Hammer said to Jim-Bean through the telepathic link. "How do we know we can trust—"

"You have no other choice," Ssruthaa interrupted their mental conversation.

Hammer's eyes widened but he said nothing else, inwardly or outwardly.

Finally, they gained access to the Gate room, an enormous room the size of a concert hall, filled with equipment, personnel and the Duxbury gate.

It was immediately recognizable — it was identical in every way to the Hellbend gate.

The gate was a thirteen-foot wide by thirteen-foot high tall stone archway with slots on the left hand side of the large portal. The stone was odd—it was a deep black soapstone-like substance with an almost metallic quality, unidentifiable by modern science. The slots each fit a 2.718” gold cube. The archway was filled with a deep gray mist; much like steam, which did not seem to drift far from the door. There was something odd about the way the smoke drifted; it occasionally seemed to twirl, twist and congeal into tiny storm-like collections of clouds; and it never drifted far from the stone doorway before evaporating.

Next to the gate was a small, odd, wheel shaped device covered in Aklo writing. It was obviously an alien device retrofitted to a human constructed machine that operated the gate. Huge, thick power cables ran from the device up into the ceiling of the Gate room.

Ssruthaa disconnected the cables with his bare hands. "Fools," he snarled. "You have no idea the power you trifle with."

Several Brownshirts whirled. "Hey, get away from there!"

There was another trumpet behind them. Rhan-Tegoth was coming.

"Did that thing…take the freight elevator down here?" asked Jim-Bean to nobody in particular. more

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Wednesday, September 23

God Shall Tread: Part 7 – On the Menu

Ssruthaa transformed right before Jim-Bean's eyes into the Brownshirt he consumed. Jim-Bean picked up the guard's pistol. Ssruthaa passed by several weapons on the floor, left by Brownshirts who fled in utter terror.

"Don't you want a gun?" asked Jim-Bean.

Ssruthaa sneered at him with his human features. "I am far more formidable without your mortal weapons," he said without a hint of his lisp. more

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Tuesday, September 22

God Shall Tread: Part 6 – The Thing in the Cell

"Let me go! It is starving down there beyond that cell door, and if It dies the Old Ones can never come back. Hei! Hei! Let me go!"

The thing was telepathically screaming at him. Its head was facing his direction but its snake-like features were otherwise inscrutable. A Brownshirt stood guard with another scientist checked Ssruthaa's vitals.

"Let who go?" Jim-Bean

"Wza-y'ei! Wza-y'ei! Y'kaa haa ho-ii, Rhan-Tegoth-Cthulhu fthagn-Ei! Ei! Ei! Ei!-Rhan-Teogth. Rhan-Tegoth, Rhan-Tegoth!"

"I get it," Jim-Bean beamed back. "But you don't have to keep ranting about Goths…"

"No, fool! Rhan-Tegoth! You do not trussst me? And yet you trussst the ssshoggoth."

Jim-Bean made his way to the doorway, but there was no way he was going to get inside without some serious firepower.

"Oh, you didn’t know, did you?" continued Ssruthaa. "Ssstupid human. Lasssiter is a ssshoggoth in human form. Now quickly, releassse me from my bondsss! Even now Rhan-Tegoth awakesss!”

Jim-Bean recognized the name. Lassiter was the CEO of Hunt Electronics. But he wasn't entirely sure what a shoggoth was.

"Listen, fool! Listen hard! It has heard me, and is coming. Can't you hear It splashing out of Its tank down there at the end of the hallway? It is amphibious, you know--you saw the gills. It came to the earth from lead-gray Yuggoth, where the cities are under the warm deep sea. It can't stand up in there--too tall--has to sit down or crouch."

There was a splashing, padding or shuffling, as of great wet paws on a solid surface. A noisome animal stench poured into Jim-Bean's nostrils. Sudden baying followed sniffing and snorting. A trumpeting noise assailed his ears.

Jim-Bean whirled, his hand going for his pistol. The pistol he didn't bring with him. It was safely secured in the crate along with Hammer and the rest of their equipment.

Something fumbled with the latch of the heavy cell door, patting, pawing, pushing. There was a thudding on the stout metal, which grew louder and louder. The stench was horrible.

The Brownshirt in Ssruthaa's room looked up and so did the scientist. They were looking past Jim-Bean. more

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Thursday, September 17

God Shall Tread: Part 5 – Have You Seen My Red Stapler?

It was the last cell that gave him pause. It contained a bulbous, ten-foot tall shaggy crab/spider sealed in a large transparent specimen case. It had an almost globular torso, with six long, sinuous limbs terminating in crab-like claws. From the upper end a subsidiary globe bulged forward bubble-like; its triangle of three staring, fishy eyes, its foot-long and evidently flexible proboscis, and a distended lateral system analogous to gills, suggested that it is a head. Most of the body was covered what first appeared to be fur.

Jim-Bean shuddered. The thing didn't feel right. He kept on walking towards the freight elevators…

“Free me!”

Jim-Bean pulled up short. He looked around. No one had said anything. All the techs were busy passing in the hallway or focusing on their instruments in other rooms.

Jim-Bean reached out with his mind to Hammer. "Was that you?"

"What?"

"Did you just ask me to free you?"

"I've been asking you to free me for the past ten minutes." more

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Wednesday, September 16

God Shall Tread: Part 4 – Through the Wire

The Duxbury plant was a nearly three-acre section of land located outside of the town proper. Two deep twenty-foot security fences topped with razor wire surrounded it. Every fifth fence-pole was topped by a swiveling security camera monitored twenty-four-hours a day by Hunt Electronics guards, known as Brownshirts.

There was one main gate that was “air locked” — separated into its own section by a series of fences — overlooked by two cement buildings with bulletproof glass that looked surprisingly like bunkers. Only delivery trucks entered the gate.

Jim-Bean, dressed as one of the drivers, drove through the gate. They had intercepted a service truck in record time while he was at a red light; so quickly, in fact, that the whole thing had taken just under two minutes. Although the plant's security was amazing, its reach was only as effective as its perimeter.

Jim-Bean was guided by several of the Brownshirts into a docking bay. He backed the truck in with some trepidation, stopping frequently – he wasn't accustomed to driving big rigs. As Weeks had indicated, the place was buzzing and there was an air of urgency. His hesitation just made him seem like a nervous and overworked employee under the gun. The Brownshirts seemed to take it all in stride.

He just hoped they wouldn't look inside the Box.

The Box was a hastily constructed chamber, large enough to fit a human being, but not large enough to be comfortable. Hammer was crunched up in a hunched position, along with their weapons and an oxygen tank. Most importantly, it was designed to foil any scanners. There was actually a false exterior around the box that provided a faux scan. So long as nobody opened the box, it would pass muster. That was a big "if."

There was also the fact that, eventually, Hammer had to get out of the box before he ran out of air. And it was practically impossible for him to do it on his own. more

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Tuesday, September 15

God Shall Tread: Part 3 – The Week Link

Walter sat down on a kitchen stool. Another man with sandy brown hair and eyes with a hint of blue in them sat down across from him. "Walter, we need to know some things." He casually waved a gun in Walter's direction. "You're going to help us right?"

"What do you want?" asked Walter.

"Answers," said Jim-Bean. "I need to know about you. What do you do at Hunt Electronics?"

"I'm…I'm a chemist."

"And what chemistry do you do at HE?"

"I…I work on chemical samples, looking for valuable substances like gold, silver and platinum."

"What kind of chemical samples?" snarled Hammer, edging closer. "We don't have a lot of time here…"

Weeks flinched. "Don't hurt me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's hard to focus…" He broke down into a body-wracking sobs. "P-please don't k-kill me…"

"Oh for crying out loud…" Jim-Bean turned towards Hammer. "Why don't you go search his bedroom?"

Hammer glared at him, but he did as Jim-Bean suggested. more

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Monday, September 14

God Shall Tread: Part 2 – Hairball

"Go, go, go!" shouted Hammer to the pilot.

Jim-Bean and Hammer were already on a plane to Berne. They planned to have eyes on the ground before he got there. They were both exhausted – SPIDER transit outside the U.S. was considerably less luxurious than within America. And given that SPIDER transit was awful to begin with, it meant they were nauseous and exhausted from the endless turbulence required to cross the Atlantic Ocean in record time.

There was no way Emery could pull off wearing a wire. He was too jumpy, too nervous, and simply too clueless to act as their mole. The only way to do it right was to stick to Emery's original plan and maintain his ignorance.

The COCKTAIL worked well. Emery's memory was completely wiped. He didn't remember where he was. In fact, the Majestic boys were a little concerned he might remember nothing at all, given the sudden decision to dope Emery up. But it worked like a charm.

Everything was bugged. The phone, the gold nuggets, even Emery himself. They injected at tracker in his bloodstream.

"All trackers are functioning," said the pilot. They were already in the air before Emery had arrived at the airport. The staff was paid well to delay Emery as much as possible, but it seemed Hunt Electronics paid even better.

No matter, they were still one step ahead of HE. "We need to know his destination," said Hammer. "Wherever he lands, we need eyes on Emery as soon as he steps out of the plane."

"Copy that," replied the Majestic agent on the comm.

They watched the tracking devices on a monitor in the jet. They beepered a comforting staccato with every mile Emery's plane covered.

"Do you think this is going to work?"

"Why shouldn't it?" asked Hammer. "HE is still going to get its shipment."

Jim-Bean looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, it's just that…"

"Don't tell me you've chosen this moment to develop a conscience."

Jim-Bean laughed. "That's not what I mean. I'm just not sure Emery's the type to blow his money on booze and hookers."

"He's greedy," said Hammer. "Greedy people just get worse over time."

"Maybe," said Jim-Bean. "I guess it tells us a lot about the character of a man, huh? They'll probably kill him when he gets there."

"That's why we have to get there first. We'll be ready to take them out. HE just cares about the equipment," said Hammer. "Once they get that back, he's as good as—"

The monitor beeped urgently.

The tracking devices were scattering. They beeped once, twice, radiating outwards from the plane in a circle, thousands of miles above ground. Then they disappeared entirely.

Hammer and Jim-Bean stared at the screen, dumbfounded. more

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Saturday, September 12

God Shall Tread: Part 1 – Belling the Cat

Emery sat up in a blind panic.

"Oh Jesus…" he looked around.

He was dressed in only his underwear, in a bed. In a hotel room. The room smelled of sweat, cigarette smoke, and booze. The sheets were roiled around him.

There was a note on the dresser. A lipstick kiss and "call me" with a phone number he didn't recognize. It was not an American phone number.

Where the hell was he? Think Emery, think! You were on your way to Berne and then…and then…nothing. It was like hitting his head against a mental wall.

Emery's heart pounded as he realized what must have happened. He had been ambushed. Maybe some hooker had gotten him drunk. But most importantly, what happened to the equipment…

Emery tore open the bathroom door. Nothing.

It was all fading away. His excursions to Europe. His suspicious bonuses. His job at Hunt Electronics. It was all over. If he was lucky, he would lose his job. If he wasn't…he didn't want to think about it.

Emery pulled open the folding closet. He was so relieved by what he found there that he sank to his knees.

The cases were there. He tried to lift one…it was heavy. Emery checked the seals. Unopened. The hooker who swindled him wasn't smart enough or interested enough to look inside. Emery didn't even know what was inside. In fact, he was paid to not find out.

Emery's emotions careened from utter despair to hopeful salvation. He had a chance! He could make this right!

He fumbled through the nightstand drawer. "Please tell me she didn't take my…YES!" He pulled out his cell phone triumphantly. It even had one bar left. Just enough, he hoped, to make the most important phone call of his life. more

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Friday, September 11

God Shall Tread: Prologue


Hammer and Jim-Bean had been circling Hunt Electronics' Duxbury headquarters for over a week with no luck. The place was built like a fortress, but then a gold mine of information fell into their laps. Literally.

On a gray Monday morning a young 22-year-old employee of Hunt Electronics was detained and questioned by TSA officials at La Guardia Airport in New York City. He was pulled aside in a random search, and quickly drew the suspicion of his interrogators with his evasive answers and nervousness.

"So who's this?" Jim-Bean craned his neck to inspect the nervous young man sitting in the interrogation room.

"Jonathan Emery," said Hammer. "Ready?"

"Good cop or bad cop?"

"Let's switch it up," said Hammer. "I'll be good cop for once."

"Do you even know how?"

Hammer paused to remark "very funny" before opening the door to the interrogation room. [MORE]

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Thursday, September 10

Chapter 44: Where a God Shall Tread - Introduction

This story hour is a combination of “Future/Perfect” Part Three by Dennis Detwiller and “Where a God Shall Tread” from At Your Door. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

When you're running straight-up survival horror, smaller numbers are easier to manage. Dealing with the aforementioned dinosaur attack was perfectly suited for two agents alone in the dark. A Mission Impossible-style infiltration of a heavily guard base, on the other hand, could use as many agents as we can stuff around the table. But we only had two.

To my surprise, the agents ended up ranging beyond the scope of the scenario. The players know when scenarios are "open" and "closed" – this was definitely an open scenario, so they ranged far and wide. I brought them back in with the logical conclusion to their actions, which shocked them and put a timetable on penetrating the base.

The base itself turned out to be fairly anticlimactic. After all, if the alarms haven't sounded, things tend to go pretty smoothly. Fortunately, I had a very big series of wrinkles in store for the agents. The question was whether or not they would play along. To my surprise, they did.

Defining Moment: Tracking beacons hidden in gold nuggets suddenly scatter…40,000 feet up. more

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Wednesday, September 9

Operation Bravo: Conclusion

Jim-Bean met Hammer at the hospital. Hammer. He was laid up in bed, doped up on painkillers.

"Did you get them?" asked Hammer. His forearm was heavily bandaged. The dinosaurs had near snapped his forearm in two.

"Good to see you're alive, Jim-Bean," began Jim-Bean sarcastically. "I thought you were dead. Sorry I had to leave you behind with the scary Jurassic Park rejects…"

"Very funny," croaked Hammer.

"You're seriously messed up yourself," said Jim-Bean.

"Radiation…poisoning," said Hammer.

"Oh yeah, I noticed that. But I got over it."

Hammer continued his question. "So?"

"The dinosaurs are now definitely extinct. As for the gate, I called in a STREETSWEEPER team. Gave Larry the gold cube. They're going in now." [MORE]

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Tuesday, September 8

Operation Bravo: Part 8 – The Gate


Jim-Bean unshouldered his duffel bag. There was enough C-4 to do some damage. But he had bigger problems.

Behind him, the Hellbend killers entered the cave entrance, snapping and snarling at each other as they established dominance for who would eat Jim-Bean first.

At first glance, they looked like an enormous flightless red-green colored birds the size of pick-up trucks. They had small forearms sprinkled with orange-green feather-like extrusions, and the same faux feathers on their backs. They were quite obviously predators—heads filled with two-inch long serrated teeth, and face broken by one blunt horn. Their small forward arms were tipped with five-inch hook-like claws.

They were also most definitely not lizards. These were dinosaurs.

The predators crept into the cavern, hissing, heads darting to track his every move.

"Velociraptors," whispered Jim-Bean. "Great." [MORE]

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Sunday, September 6

Operation Bravo: Part 7 – One Lousy Day

Hammer had no idea that the sudden drop in the culvert saved his life. When Hammer sputtered back to the surface, Jim-Bean was gone.

He spun around, Glocks out, hoping they would still work despite being soaked. "Jim-Bean? Jimmy?"

There was an odd barking screech, almost like that of an angry seagull, only louder and angrier. It echoed to Hammer's right. Then to his left.

When Hammer caught sight of a red-green head he didn't hesitate to fire. There was a screech, and something thrashed in the water. Then he was alone again in the inky blackness.

Hammer made his way over to the side of the culvert. If he could just get his back to the wall… [MORE]

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Saturday, September 5

Operation Bravo: Part 6 – On the Menu

Jim-Bean awoke to shooting pain in his foot. He was floating, half-dragged through the current towards…somewhere. He couldn't make out what it was, but he got the distinct impression of feathers…which didn't make any sense, because he had definitely seen a scaly head.

Focus. Jim-Bean was alive. Hammer wasn't with him. This thing was dragging him back to it lair, no doubt to eat him. He had to come up with a plan.

But there was no beating these things in a fair fight. Not in a water-logged tunnel, not when he was barely clinging to life, surviving only because his protomatter-infused body never quit mending his wounds. He would have to come up with something else than mere violence.

It was time to test the limits of his powers. Valiant's crystal had unleashed powers within him he never dreamed of. He had been meditating, practicing some of the techniques he learned at Enolsis. He was about to put them to the test.

Evidence of the culvert was long gone. What little he could make out with his head beam showed a jagged, uneven ceiling. He was instead surrounded by dirt and rocks.

That's all he needed. He tried to focus.

But it was hard. The damn thing bit down on his foot every few seconds as it adjusted its grip on him. Jim-Bean's protomatter body was capable of some amazing things, but he doubted he could reattach a severed foot. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

Focus… [MORE]

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Friday, September 4

Operation Bravo: Part 5 – Down the Rabbit Hole

The concrete culvert, which led into the earth heading towards the Hunt plant, was quite large, capable of allowing a human to stand upright comfortably.

That's when they heard the odd noise.

It was not easily describable—it sounded somewhat like an echoey clicking. The mechanical clicking rose and fell over time.

A slow rush of water about two inches deep lapped at their heels. The culvert's walls were covered in a deep green moss up to about hip height. The water seemed to go in cycles—rising slightly in speed and depth every few minutes.

"I don't like that sound," said Jim-Bean. [MORE]

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Thursday, September 3

Operation Bravo: Part 4 – The Ruins of Hunt

Located approximately two miles from the center of Hellbend, California on the ruins of a formerly beautiful asphalt road, a sea of destroyed concrete was all that remained of Hunt Electrodynamics Plant #004. A partially ruined chain link fence surrounded it five hundred yards out from the ruins on all sides.

It was hardly a deterrent. Large gaps existed every fifty feet or so. All that remained were concrete slabs split into no larger than three-foot chunks, an occasional metal strut curled by some huge force, random, destroyed business devices from the 1950s.

Hammer walked the perimeter. "Looks to me like the place was destroyed more by an implosion. See how the buildings lean inwards to a center point?"

Walking the site of the plant revealed little. There were no apparent entrances below; no tunnels, holes or stairs down. The site appeared barren.

The point where Clifford Potter was digging with the Bobcat was easily found. The twenty by thirty-foot bald spot was meticulously cleared of rubble, and covered in Bobcat tracks, various footprints and the random detritus of humanity.

"From the looks of it, the Bobcat blade broke the ground maybe once or twice," said Hammer. The hole it created dipped down only a foot or two, revealing nothing. The site was suspiciously clear of anything else.

"You said Potter was digging up metal pipes?" Jim-Bean asked Androzy.

"Yeah."

"Where?" asked Jim-Bean. "There are no metal pipes—no metal at all except steel—on the surface." [MORE]

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Wednesday, September 2

Operation Bravo: Part 3 – The Thing in the Cellar

The root cellar was a recent construction; something dug in the last two years. It was a small ten foot by twelve foot room about twelve feet down in the ground, accessible through hand-made storm cellar doors and a series of slate steps. It appeared as if a great amount of effort went into constructing it.

Hammer flicked on his head lamp. Jim-Bean switched on a flashlight. They played the beams over the dirt floor.

It was completely empty except for a single long-toothed rake propped against a shored-up wall.

"Only one person has been down in the soft dirt of the cellar." Hammer pointed out footprints in the dirt.

"So?" asked Jim-Bean.

"I don't think Androzy ever stepped foot down here."

"Whoever those footprints belong to, he was really interested in raking the floor." The few footprints disrupted an otherwise perfect sea of carefully raked dirt; like a strange subterranean Zen garden.

Hammer pulled out a small utility tool from his pocket. "Start digging."

"What? Why?"

"You don't rake a root cellar unless you're covering something up," said Hammer. [MORE]

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Tuesday, September 1

Operation Bravo: Part 2 – Clifford Potter's Home

Androzy led them to Potter's home next. Clifford Potter lived on the extremities of Hellbend near to what was commonly referred to as the “bluff” – a small rise in the land to the northwest of town; approximately a mile from Hellbend. He was the only resident of the area for nearly a quarter of a mile in any direction.

"Potter bought the house in Hellbend in late 1993 at a fire sale price and has lived in the town ever since," said Androzy, all business. Jim-Bean's constant stroking had pumped the deputy up considerably. "He had no friends to speak of, but was known to help out others as needed. He drank, but not overly so, and seemed content with maintaining his house and hiking around the ruined areas of Hellbend recovering pieces of valuable scrap metal to sell in nearby Independence or Beatty Junction."

"When did he start poking around the Hunt Electrodynamics plant?"

"Late 2003," said Androzy, walking to Potter's home. "He began digging up large portions of brass, bronze and copper piping from the site to make some extra money. He was often seen driving off to the ruins of the plant in his old Ford truck with an acetylene torch and other gear in the back. Word around town is that Potter thought the ruins of the plant were a proverbial gold mine."

"Mind if we look inside?" asked Jim-Bean.

"Oh sure, sure." Androzy took down the tacked notice declaring the house a crime scene and warned trespassers not to enter. That and a flimsy lock was all that kept the curious out. Androzy fumbled for a key and unlocked the door.

Potter's small dwelling was a one-story, gable-roofed house painted a sickly, lime green. It had a hand-dug root cellar separated from the main building that dropped approximately twelve feet into the ground, and a small four-foot tall attic.

Potter’s kitchen seemed to be the hub of his life. The rest of the house was military clean—sparse almost— while only the kitchen seemed “lived in”. A sign over the stove read “You don’t have to be crazy to live here, but it helps”. On the table lay gloves, two books, a notepad, a map, a boom-box and a series of tapes.

Hammer snapped on his plastic gloves. "Don't touch anything."

"Sure," said Jim-Bean, ignoring him. [MORE]

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Monday, August 31

Operation Bravo: Part 1 – Gas n' Sip

The remnants of a formerly vibrant company town were still to be found surrounding the core of what Hellbend had become. Derelict buildings, long abandoned and overrun by weeds and witch grass, dotted the roads leading up to town – Hunt Electrodynamics' legacy.

The town once supported an entire workforce of nearly 4,000 people – and they left their dwellings behind. Most had fallen into near-complete ruin; windows long ago shattered, paint peeled off, decks collapsed, foundations shifted. Some, however, were still lived in and some were even meticulously maintained.

Most of the eighty-two residents of Hellbend lived near the center of town or within a few blocks of Main and State streets. Others however lived a bit off the beaten path – further out in the desert. The only business worth mentioning was the Gas n’ Sip – the local gas station/video store/ supermarket/post office on the corner of Main and State. Nearly every piece of mail came or went through the Gas n’ Sip and nearly everyone who stopped in Hellbend did so for one of two things – gas or directions.

The Gas n’ Sip was a two-story rickety looking building with a gable roof that sat on the corner of Main and State streets, dead-center in Hellbend. It was adorned with aging Coke signs, ancient ads for Brylcreem and other less memorable products long since washed out by the relentless sun. There were two old gas pump placed dead center on a simple concrete block out front.

"Jarvis?" asked Androzy, striding ahead of the agents. "Some men here to see you. This is Agents Grange and Baxter."

Jarvis Greene, the current proprietor, lounged in a weather-beaten rattan chair in the shade of the roof. He was a young, sunburned hippy.

"Hey guys." Greene stood up. "You must be here about the murders."

"That's right," said Hammer. "What do you know about them?"

Greene sat back down. "I knew Clifford Potter—" began Greene.

"He discovered Potter's body at the ruins of the Hunt Electrodynamics plant outside of Hellbend," interjected Androzy.

Greene nodded. "I rented Potter the Bobcat Lifter for the afternoon. When Potter didn't return that evening with the equipment, I took my Jeep out to the site and found him. That's when I called the sheriff."

"Did you see much of Potter prior to his death?" asked Hammer.

Greene nodded again. "Yeah. He took to interviewing my grandfather, Montgomery Greene, about his experience in the Hunt Electrodynamics Plant. A few times, Potter taped his interview with Monty, and asked specific questions about Hunt and the plant, though what they were, I can’t recall."

"You said you rented the Bobcat to Potter. Is it still here?"

"Sure is," said Greene. "It's 'round back. Want to see it?"

"Please," said Hammer.

Hammer grabbed his forensics kit from the car and Greene led them to the shade of a garage port. They smelled the Bobcat before they saw it. [MORE]

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Saturday, August 29

Operation Bravo: Prologue

"What happened to Archive?" asked Jim-Bean.

Hammer shrugged. "Something about a medical check-up. Majestic's still cagey about him being in the field after the incident in Central Park."

"Yeah," Jim-Bean shook his head. "The incident. I haven't been to a check-up recently, wonder why they're not worried about me."

Hammer smirked. "That's because you're under my supervision."

Jim-Bean rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, right. So we're in this buttcrack of a town because…"

"This is the place where Arthur Hunt's experiment blew up. If there's a legacy of the snake people we discovered in Elberton, it starts here, with the Hunt Electronics plant in Hellbend," said Hammer. "And two people were recently murdered here."

"In Hellbend? Doesn't that reduce the population by ten percent?"

Hammer nodded. "Nearly. It's all on your cistron: The first murder occurred on March 5, on the outskirts of the town. Clifford Potter, a 53 year-old white male, was found mutilated less than four hundred yards from the remains of the ruins of the old Hunt Electrodynamics plant. The county coroner from Independence, Abner White could not readily identify just how exactly he had died."

"Aliens," muttered Jim-Bean.

"You see aliens behind everything."

"It's hard not to when I'm part…something." [MORE]

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Friday, August 28

Chapter 43: Operation Bravo - Introduction

This story hour is a combination of “Future/Perfect” Part One by Dennis Detwiller and “Team Bravo: The First Assignment” by Eric Cagle. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

There's a certain theme running through these two scenarios that made them go together perfectly. Like the other Future/Perfect scenarios, there's plenty of information on investigation but not on actual confrontation.

Because Archive's player wasn't playing, that really raised the stakes. As George put it, "if one of us goes down it's all over." That heightened the tension and also made the critters that much more deadly – Archive's presence ensures fast healing. Without it, a conflict that goes against the agents is deadly indeed.

This scenario ended up focusing more on the sheriff and deputy who led the investigation. Fortunately, Jim-Bean and Hammer make a good buddy team, so there was plenty of opportunity for role-playing with the locals.

I was surprised by what freaked out the players. Who thought mysterious clicking noises would be so scary? [MORE]

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Thursday, August 27

Future/Perfect: Conclusion

"Jimmy…" began Hammer. But Jim-Bean already knew what to do.

"Set them on fire!" ordered Jim-Bean.

The cultists set up a huge bonfire and tossed the oddly fluid, red-scaled bodies into the flames. Of the nearly seventy cultists that were engaged in the conflict, only twenty or so remained.

"There's still the cultist bodies," said Hammer.

Jim-Bean nodded. "Set it all on fire!"

The real Moreno and his men arrived, but by then the evidence was already burning. Fire trucks roared in the distance.

"What exactly happened here?" asked Moreno angrily.

"Civil war in the cult," said Jim-Bean. "Two different sides got into a conflict, it spread, then a fire started."

Moreno bit his lip, frustrated. "That's very convenient. You know what I think?"

Hammer looked at him. "I didn't ask."

"Yeah? Well I'm gonna tell you. I think that this was a lot more like Waco then you let on."

Hammer smirked. "You have no idea." [MORE]

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Wednesday, August 26

Future/Perfect: Part 10 – Snakes in the Grass

Jim-Bean ran to and fro, trying to calm the cultists down.

"Everyone, everyone, this isn't necessary! We don't know what they want! Everyone calm down!"

Ignis agreed with him. "We must not fire first!" he shouted repeatedly. "I will speak with them! Be calm!"

The jittery cultists, who were unaccustomed to armed conflict despite their training, took their positions. The six officers stood calmly in the clearing in front of the farmhouse.

Ignis checked his pistol and made sure it was loaded. Then he approached with six similarly armed men. Jim-Bean watched from a distance.

"Hello!" Ignis squinted in the glare of the spotlights. "Sergeant Moreno, is that you? What brings you to our farm?"

Moreno said nothing. He just slowly turned his head to stare directly at Ignis. Then he lifted the bulk in one hand and dropped it.

It was the guard at the gate.

"What…" Ignis swallowed, horrified. "What did you do to him?"

Moreno was stone-faced. As one, all six of the police officers pointed at the six cultists.

Ignis' arm was up, his pistol drawn.

"Wait!" shouted Jim-Bean, "don't shoot!"

But the envoy of six cultists had all drawn their pistols. They pointed it at their own foreheads. [MORE]

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Tuesday, August 25

Future/Perfect: Part 9 – Raid!

Hammer put his recently purchased camping and surveillance equipment to good use. They had managed to set up a camouflaged bivouac near the pond. It was a perfect spot for surveillance of the farmhouse. It was perfect…

Except for the mosquitoes.

Archive slapped his neck. "These mosquitoes are driving me crazy," he whispered. At night, the bugs were even worse than during the day. Concealed as they were so close to the farm, they had to go without electrical lights.

Hammer lowered his night optics. "We'll be here for just another day or so. What have you discovered so far?"

"During the day only lone individuals are wander the grounds," said Archive. "At night, groups of followers walk back and forth between the main house and barn. Guards walk the perimeter at all times of the day and night."

"Armed?"

Archive shook his head. "Nope, but they do carry a flare gun. My guess is they fire that off as a warning."

"Good." Hammer handed the night optics back to Archive. " Jim-Bean's not convinced that the cult has anything to do with these murders and I'm starting to believe—"

There was a splash of light, like lightning, in the distance. Jim-Bean and Archive looked up.

It was the flickering incandescence of a flare.

"Oh crap," said Archive. [MORE]

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Monday, August 24

Future/Perfect: Part 8 – Mister Cab Driver

The Elberton Cab Company was a taxi service located in the downtown area of Elberton. A few questions uncovered that Al Wu was the dispatcher when Ken Stewart was murdered.

Of average height and in his mid-thirties, Wu was a fast-talking man.

"Mister Wu?" asked Hammer. "I'm Agent Grange. This is Sergeant Moreno."

"Yeah?" asked Wu, sizing them up.

"We're here to ask you a few questions about the recent death of Ken Stewart?"

Wu's eyes flicked to Moreno. "I already spoke to the police."

Hammer gave Moreno a look. "Why don't you go get a cup of coffee." It wasn't phrased as a question.

Moreno shrugged. "Fine, whatever." He walked off.

Hammer turned back to Wu. "Sorry about that. We're all very tense because of these murders. Do you mind if I chat with you for a second?"

Wu relaxed a bit. "They told me I was a witness and had to keep quiet," he muttered. "But talking to you should be okay, being a Fed and all. Come into my office."

Hammer and Wu sat at a beat-up card table. Wu lit his forty-third Camel cigarette of the day. [MORE]

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Sunday, August 23

Future/Perfect: Part 7 – When You Wish Upon a Star

"By accepting you, my savior, I am imbued with the spirit of the people who helped build the mound."

Jim-Bean repeated it.

"I believe that through worship at the mounds we will call down others' and these others will take us to a new world."

Jim-Bean repeated it.

"Congratulations," said Ignis. "You are now one of us."

The other cultists applauded and hugged Jim-Bean.

Ignis raised his voice over the crowd. "Do you have a gun permit?"

Jim-Bean started in surprise. "What?" [MORE]

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Friday, August 21

Future/Perfect: Part 6 – The Feds Take Over


"You Feds must have a file on Douglas Yale. The murders fit his MO."

"Yeah."

"Then you know they churn out crazies. Back before Yale, trespassing by townies was a common thing on the New Star Crusade farm, and Danen Ignis, the cult leader, claimed we refused to act with 'necessary speed and clarity' to resolve such situations. Ignis taped his phone calls to our department and recorded our arrival times. He then filed a personal suit against the county and cost us another eight hundred thousand dollars in damages. We've been monitoring the farm since then, but can't do much else without probable cause." Moreno grinned. "I'd say this counts."

"So you've got an APB out for Yale?"

Moreno shook his head. "It can't be him."

"Why not?"

"Because he's dead. We kept it quiet, but we found Yale's bones back in October 2001. Bet that ain't in your file, huh?" [MORE]

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Wednesday, August 19

Future/Perfect: Part 5 – The Wrong Guy

Hammer was on his way out of the Elberton general store, when his attention swung to a sudden movement a hundred feel down a dark alley. A dim light glowed weakly from beyond a dumpster, then extinguished as a car door slammed, and then a dark figure dashed away down the alley. Behind the figure, a car horn began to blow unceasingly.

Hammer threw his bags in the trunk of the rental car and approached the blaring auto. It was an idling Elberton taxicab with the body of its driver, horribly mutilated, rammed against the steering wheel. The man's throat was slashed open, his vocal cords exposed. His ribs were broken and bent back. Most of his internal organs lay in a steaming heap beneath the steering wheel.

Hammer backed away. The police would be there soon enough, and this wasn't his business – not yet, anyway.

He got in his car and drove off, circling the area as police vehicles shrieked onto the scene. His cistron buzzed with an alert.

"…police are looking for an African-American man of medium height and build, wearing an overcoat, who fled the scene."

Hammer swore and turned the car around. He pulled up a moment later in front of the Elberton police station.

As he walked his way up the steps to the main office, there were collective gasps.

Officers fumbled for their pistols. "Get down on the ground! Now!" [MORE]

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Sunday, August 16

Future/Perfect: Part 4 – Seeing Stars

Archive looked up from the scope of a mounted sniper rifle. "I see lights," he said. "A few carloads of people." The rifle was trained on the monument from the Mullinex farmhouse, which they had graciously lent the agents for their use. They left out the part about the sniper rifle.

"That's got to be the New Star Crusade," said Jim-Bean. "The Solstice was coming up, right? This must be their ritual."

Archive returned to looking at the scope. "Yeah. We've got them covered if they try anything stupid, but I recommend we observe…"

Jim-Bean didn't respond.

"Jimmy?"

Archive looked up. Jim-Bean was gone. [MORE]

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Future/Perfect: Part 3 – A Little History

The Elberton Granite Museum & Exhibit sat in the center of town – a nine room, two story stone structure, fronted by a small park with a statue of Hunt in its center beckoning to the west.

The museum's industrial building was home to a collection of quarry equipment, funky sculptures, examples of etched gravestones, and an older woman at the desk. The placard introduced her as Mary Jarrard.

"Hello gentlemen," she chirped, clearly pleased to have some company. "Interested in a tour?"

"That'd be great," said Jim-Bean with a smile.

Pleased to have some company, Mary fired up the educational video that the agents watched while strolling the exhibits.

"It all began with Arthur Hunt. Hunt was a local legend in Elberton," a deep, pleasant voice narrated. "He was the “success-story” of the town, almost the inversion of Douglas Yale, the Georgia River Killer. "

"Hunt rose from poverty and a life of debauchery in Elberton to forge an electronics empire that has stood the test of time – surviving even after his unexpected death in 1952. But at first, no one in town thought much of him. In fact, he was considered a local ne’er do well – someone more prone to theft, violence and lying than any productive endeavor."

Photos flashed on the screen. Each showed Hunt in various states of intoxication; including one during the celebration of the end of the Great War where Hunt climbed a light pole with his pants down.

"On May 3, 1922, Hunt was discovered at the Elberton Mound, drunk, carrying a pickaxe and shouting drunkenly about Shawnee gold. Hunt was incarcerated, but it was known in town he still visited the mound."

"Yep," whispered Archive. "Psychic vortex." [MORE]

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Saturday, August 15

Future/Perfect: Part 2 – Set in Stone

Five massive slabs of polished granite rose out of the earth in a star pattern. The rocks were each sixteen feet tall, with four of them weighing more than twenty tons apiece. Together they supported a 25,000-pound capstone. Approaching the edifice, it was hard not to think immediately of England's Stonehenge or possibly the ominous monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The only clues to its origin were on a nearby plaque on the ground—which gave the dimensions and explained a series of intricate notches and holes that corresponded to the movements of the sun and stars—and the "guides" themselves, directives carved into the rocks. These instructions appeared in eight languages ranging from English to Swahili and reflected a peculiar New Age ideology. Two stood out in particular, "maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature" and "be not a cancer on the earth—leave room for nature."

The stones had been splattered with polyurethane and spray-painted with graffiti. Yale's handiwork included slogans like "Death to the new world order."

"So?" asked Hammer.

"So…what?" Jim-Bean asked back.

"The mound. Can you sense anything?"

"Oh, right." Jim-Bean concentrated. With a gasp, he fell to his knees. [MORE]

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Friday, August 14

Future/Perfect: Part 1 – Guide to the Guidestones

The route headed west, then turned north on Highway 77, towards Elbert County. Small signs beside the highway indicated the turnoff for the Guidestones, which was identified by a street sign as "Guidestones Rd."

The dirt road bounced through bend after bend of cool brush lands. A recent rainfall made the going slippery.

As the car rounded another thicket, a locked wooden gate blocked the road. A wooden house was nearby. No one was visible inside, though smoke rose from the chimney of the small wooden house. There was swamp about a hundred yards to the left and right of the house, flanked by palmetto and even prickly-pear cactus on sandy hummocks. The road continued beyond the gate, disappearing into trees several hundred yards beyond. A sign read “Double 7 Farms.”

A black man in overalls came out of the house and waved at the car. “Hello!” he called. “What you fellas want?”

"You the owner of this farm?" asked Hammer.

"I am," said the older man. "Name's Wayne. Wayne Mullenix. And you are?"

"Agent Hammer," he flashed his badge. "We're here to visit the Georgia Guidestones." [MORE]

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Thursday, August 13

Future/Perfect: Prologue

Elberton was a sleepy little town in Elbert County, Georgia. It was home to Southeastern Power – the major employer in the town, and several smaller manufacturing plants. The economic dips that came and went since the Great Depression had somehow passed Elberton by, and people liked it that way.

The 5,000 people who called Elberton home loved it; its small town flavor had not been marred by the modern bustle of city life. Life went on there much in the same way as it had for the last seven decades. It was also home to the Georgia Guidestones.

The Georgia Guidestones were a huge granite monument in Elbert County, Georgia. The Guidestones draws tourists, and adds a lot of local flavor. The Georgia Guidestones were located on a hilltop in Elbert County, Georgia, approximately 9 miles north of the center of Elberton. Located at the highest point in Elbert County, the mound, as it was called, had its own history.

But that’s not all Elberton laid claim to. Over the decades it produced some exceptional people in the shadow of that mound. Over the decades it’s produced some exceptional people in the shadow of that mound. It’s most famous son, Arthur Hunt, the town drunk turned eccentric genius, who forged an empire on consumer electronics was born there, and a statue dedicated to him sat in the middle of town.

Jim-Bean looked up at the statue. “Doesn’t look like much.”

Hunt’s statue was a twelve-foot bronze edifice on top of a hollow cement pylon in the center of town. It sat at the heart of the Malcolm Elberton Park, and faced west.

“He’s smiling about something,” said Hammer. [MORE]

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Wednesday, August 12

Chapter 42: Future/Perfect - Introduction

This story hour is a combination of “Future/Perfect” Part Two by Dennis Detwiller and “Where A God Shall Tread” from At Your Door. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

  • Game Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
  • Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero/Acolyte) played by Joe Lalumia
  • Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://jeremyrobertortiz.blogspot.com)
  • Kurtis “Hammer” Grange (Fast/Dedicated Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster

I enjoy the Future Perfect series by Dennis Detwiller, especially because he released them for free under the patronage project. I already had a mysterious mound leftover from The Evil Stars, so this gave me an opportunity to explore the Georgia Guidestones in Elberton further. These Guidestones are real and the circumstances surrounding their creation just as mysterious.

What Future Perfect lacks is a way to interact with the shapeshifting serial killer on the loose. Fortunately, Where a God Shall Tread has a similar villain committing murders (in the most idiotic fashion). The modus operandi of killing victims and gnawing their bones clean makes more sense here and provides a narrative to hang the plot off of; otherwise, the agents wander around town waiting for the serial killer they don’t know about to show up.

Of course, the scenario hints that, when push comes to shove, the bad guy decides to wake up his brethren and go on the offensive against the one place most fortified against them. This provided a suitably creepy and tragic finale.

Defining Moment: Hammer, on the phone with the sergeant, discovers an impostor standing in front of him. [MORE]

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Sunday, August 9

Evil Stars: Conclusion

Hammer, Archive, and Jim-Bean were already in their rental car, far away from the chaos that was Hughes Auditorium. For once, Archive was driving.

“This is Hammer, call in a STREETSWEEPER team at my coordinates…”

Jim-Bean tapped him on the shoulder. “Look.” He held up his cistron.

“This is Nina Juarez and I’m live at Hughes Auditorium in Jacksonville, Georgia. God’s Lost Children has played their last song. It appears that Brianne Lochnar, in an attempt to one-up herself from the previous violent concerts, rigged the stage with tear gas to incite the crowd to riot. As you can see behind me, the stage caught fire. There are unconfirmed reports of Brianne playing right up until the stage collapsed, but we’ll have to get a look at the tapes…”

Jim-Bean grinned and tapped a compact disc on the dash of the car.

Hammer turned back to his cistron. “Belay that order. STREETSWEEPER cancelled. Repeat, STREETSWEEPER cancelled.” He frowned over at Jim-Bean. “We got lucky.” [MORE]

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Friday, August 7

Evil Stars: Part 12 – The Show Must Go On

“Okay, everybody out!” shouted a burly-looking biker.

Nina Juarez was strong-armed out by a weasely-looking thug, who shoved her roughly out of the Green Room. Then they came for Archive and Hammer.

Archive put up both hands and whispered something. Smoke billowed up around them, filling the hallway.

“Fire!” shouted one of the bikers.

The security detail, holding onto its morale by a thread, broke at the news of the fire spreading from the stage. Of course, there was no fire, only Archive’s invocations.

Hammer ducked out of sight and ran towards the Lighting & Sound room door. It was locked.

Hammer pounded on it. “Jimmy, open it!”

A second later Jim-Bean unlocked the door. “How did you know I was in here?”

“Because it’s where I would have gone. Did you just kill everyone in the theater?”

Jim-Bean frowned. “No, that’s why I released the tear gas first.” On the monitors, the stage was a burning conflagration. Some of the crowd in the far back was still cheering, unaware that the entire band had been massacred.

“You just murdered three people in cold blood.”

“Four. And they were about to finish the chant,” said Jim-Bean. “And consecrate the mounds…”

“We don’t even know what Lochnar's ritual does! You caused a panic—people are going to hurt, even die, as a result of your actions.”

Jim-Bean shushed him. “Hear that?”

The cameras were still rolling. The screen showed movement in the burning remains of the stage. Rising out of the wreckage, Brianne Lochnar stepped out of the debris, unharmed.

“Son of a bitch!” swore Hammer. [MORE]

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Evil Stars: Part 11 – The Interview

Jim-Bean escorted Nina to the Green Room.

“Agents Hammer and Archive!” she exclaimed with false enthusiasm. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Hammer hopped up from the couch. Archive stayed where he was. A bird's eye view of the God's Lost Children performance blared on the television.

“Agent Jim-Bean was just telling me…” Nina turned to look over her shoulder but Jim-Bean was gone. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to ask you some questions.”

Hammer sat down again and Ninja joined him on the couch. “Yes, you’re all quite mysterious for government agents. The Freedom of Information Act doesn’t have much on you.”

“That’s on purpose,” said Hammer. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I could ask you the same question,” said Nina. “Or other questions – like, did you ever catch that serial killer, Agent Archive?”

Archive blinked. “What?”

“You know, Elijah Jackson?” When Archive didn’t respond, she continued. “I spoke to Ms. Dawson and she mentioned that she shot him six times…”

“David Charles killed him,” said Archive.

“Really,” said Nina, flipping through a notebook. “According to my notes you told Detective Gallagher that it was, and I quote, ‘a demon hopping from body to body’.”

“Then you also know that Gallagher threw me out of the police station when I shared that theory,” said Archive.

Nina changed tactics. She turned to Hammer. “Your grandmother’s very nice.”

Hammer’s expression went from guarded amusement to icy rage. “You spoke with my grandmother?” [MORE]

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Thursday, August 6

Evil Stars: Part 10 – Who You Are in the Dark

“I’d really love to see how this place works. It’d be great if I get beneath the stage…”

Jim-Bean stared intently at a roadie named Tom. Tom shook his head. “I dunno man, press isn’t supposed to be down there.”

“Oh come on,” said Jim-Bean, a little more forcefully. “It’d mean a lot to me. I’ll put you in my article.”

Tom shrugged. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone, right? Just a quick look around and then you’re back in the green room.”

“Sure, sure,” said Jim-Bean.

They both put on noise-canceling microphones and headsets, the kind helicopter pilots used, that were linked by a comm. With the band playing above them it was nearly impossible to hear otherwise.

Tom opened up a trapdoor that led beneath the stage and climbed down a ladder. Jim-Bean followed behind him, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“What’s in the bag?” asked Tom, flicking on a flashlight. It revealed a wooden series of angled beams and scattered debris, including endless cables and discarded metal bars.

“Oh, you know, camera equipment,” said Jim-Bean. He looked around. “So this is beneath the stage?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you wanted to come down here so badly, there’s really not that much to see—“

Tom spun, blood flying from his face as Jim-Bean smashed his head in with one of the bars. He struck him so hard that his headset went flying.

“Sorry, Tom,” said Jim-Bean, standing over the unconscious man. “But you’re going to have sacrifice yourself for the greater good.” [MORE]

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Wednesday, August 5

Evil Stars: Part 9 – Hard Court Press

Five hours in the hospital and a bumpy SPIDER flight later, Archive and Hammer limped in behind Jim-Bean to the Hughes Auditorium in Jacksonville.

A security guard directed them to the administration office. Seated behind the desk was a burly, florid redhead. He wore neat and expensive slacks, shirt, and shoes, and an ultra-expensive Italian leather jacket, but somehow the clothes were wrong on him – jeans, t-shirt, and a can of beer seemed more appropriate. A title card on his desk labeled him as Barry Watson.

“Look,” Barry said without looking up from what he was doing, “I really don’t have time for—“

“We’re journalists,” said Jim-Bean.

“Yeah, sure.” Barry didn’t look up. “You don’t look like journalists. We don’t need more reporters from GNN…”

Jim-Bean slammed both palms down on Barry’s desk. “Yeah,” he said forcefully, “GNN.”

Barry finally looked up. When he met Jim-Bean’s gaze, his aggravated expression changed to complacence. He pressed a button on his phone.

“Pete?”

“Yes sir?”

“There are three reporters here. Give ‘em a press pack.”

“But sir, the band is playing right now.”

Barry looked uncertainly at Jim-Bean, as if for approval. Jim-Bean nodded encouragingly.

“Right now.”

“Right away sir.” [MORE]

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Tuesday, August 4

Evil Stars: Part 8 – Between a Place and a Hard Rock

Jim-Bean grabbed one of the blue polo-shirted employees fleeing from the store as the THING that was Billy strode towards them, fanged maw chattering madly. The employee’s badge read: HI THERE, I’M BOBBY!

“You, Bobby!” shouted Jim-Bean. “You know how to work a computer?”

Bobby swallowed. “Uh…yes sir?”

Jim-Bean waved his badge at the teenager. “I’m a federal agent and I need your help, right now!”

The word “now” was drowned out by the smash of Billy striding right through the glass doors, its spiked fists easily shattering the glass.

“Go to the back office,” commanded Jim-Bean. He shoved Star after Bobby. “Both of you.”

Hammer and Archive engaged the thing as Bobby ran to the back office. Jim-Bean jogged over to the music aisle and flipped through the “G” section of the CDs.

After a few seconds and more screams from the fleeing patrons, Jim-Bean found the most recent God’s Lost Children album. He ran over to the back office.

Jim-Bean handed the CD to Bobby. “I need you to play this backwards over the audio system.”

“W-what?” stuttered Bobby, who was torn between staring at the faceless thing swinging clumsily at Hammer and the pistol dangling from Jim-Bean’s shoulder holster. “That’s not simple.”

Jim-Bean drew his pistol. “Then you’d better get working on it now, huh?” [MORE]

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Monday, August 3

Evil Stars: Part 7 – The Thing from the Video

“I know how to take care of biker gangs,” said Archive. He whispered something and concentrated.

Billy’s bike suddenly sparked, flames licking from the sides of the engine. He lost control, swerving the bike too quickly. It flipped sideways, hurtling Billy to the ground.

He hit the pavement hard, tumbling, rolling, sliding with a chattering screech as flesh stripped away. He hit the guardrail, bounced up, tumbled along the top and then pitched out into space. Billy smashed to the pavement in the middle lane and lay there, face-down. Still.

“Got hi—“ was all Hammer got out. Jim-Bean wasn’t paying attention to the road. He swerved, striking the guardrail as the two lanes suddenly diverged.

The car screeched, one wheel wobbling. Jim-Bean struggled to regain control of the vehicle.

“Stupid rental piece of CRAP,” he snarled. The car began to slow down, the transmission wrecked.

“Guys…” said Star. “I think Billy’s…I think he’s getting up.”

Billy slowly rolled over and sat up. He was a mass of blood, clothing and skin in tatters. Headlights flared behind him and an air horn blared.

A double-trailer Kenworth gasoline tanker smashed him down and under with a crash. Billy rolled, clattering, and the mass blurred above him. He ricocheted between the pavement and the speeding undercarriage until a stray bounce flung him up into the rear suspension. The stunned driver hit the brakes. The air brakes howled.

“Is he dead?” asked Star. “He’s got to be dead…”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Jim-Bean. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy s*&t in my day…”

The body of the driver was tossed out of the side of the tanker, rolling.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Hammer. [MORE]

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Saturday, August 1

Evil Stars: Part 6 – Hasta la Vista

There was the sound of wrenching metal.

“Hammer?” asked Jim-Bean. “Come back.”

Archive and Jim-Bean exchanged a worried glance.

“What?” asked Star. “What?!”

“Hammer’s not answering his comm.” Jim-Bean loaded a pistol. “Stay close to me.”

Archive drew his Glock and followed a worried Star out the door to the main chamber.

The double doors had been torn off their hinges with incredible force. The proof of impact was evident in Hammer, who lay underneath one of the doors, unconscious. Another door across the way had been struck so hard that it was nearly folded in half.

“The armory,” said Archive. “He’s going to get his weapons.”

“Maybe. I don’t plan to stick around to find out. Grab Hammer.”

Archive dragged Hammer out from underneath the door and onto the elevator in the center of the room, onto the elevator platform. Jim-Bean and Star joined him. He punched the red button labeled UP.

Jim-Bean rifled through his bag.

“What are you doing?” asked Star.

“Leaving a parting gift,” said Jim-Bean. He pulled out a few blocks of C4, with detonators attached. “Courtesy of the armory Billy is raiding.”

Just before the elevated platform cleared the ceiling of the entrance, Jim-Bean rolled the C4 through the opening. [MORE]

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Friday, July 31

Evil Stars: Part 5 – Billy Smash!

Bekleys Auto Repair appeared to be just another small shop on Toronto’s south side. With its crumbling facade and dirty windows, few people gave the store more than a passing glance. Inside, the repair shop looked even worse, with its peeling wallpaper, creaking floorboards and layers of dust thick enough for mice to ski on.

Many of the people in the neighborhood wondered how Tom and Rose Bekley could support themselves with the meager few customers who wandered in every few weeks. Naturally, the police checked by occasionally to make sure the Bekleys weren’t selling drugs, or fencing stolen goods. But everything was legal and quite innocuous. The auto parts worked even if they were highly overpriced. There just weren’t any customers.

However, Tom and Rose secretly worked for Majestic-12. Green Box #14 was a standard example of the storage facilities maintained by the Majestic-12 janitorial staff.

Jim-Bean and Hammer dragged Billy into the room between them. A nervous Star entered accompanied by Archive.

Hammer nodded at Tom. Tom nodded back and flicked a supposedly “broken” light switch behind the counter. It opened a reader for a Majestic-12 cistron in the bathroom.

Hammer held up his cistron to the reader. The wall slid back to reveal a hidden passage that led to a small elevator. They clambered into it.

The elevator descended one hundred and forty feet down into the sub-sub-basement. The center floor of the warehouse had a small elevator capable of moving a six-foot square box. Below were three work areas.

They dragged Billy to the labs. The small testing and processing lab was common to Green Box facilities. A workshop filled the remaining space. It was stocked with raw materials and electronic replacement parts. At the end of the room were three ten-foot by ten-foot specialty rooms with double airtight doors. They trussed Billy up, upside down, hanging from a hook in the holding tank. Hammer replaced Billy’s plastic handcuffs with steel-alloy manacles. When they were sure he was secure, they closed and locked the massive door.

Archive scribed something in chalk on the doorway.

“What’s that?” asked Jim-Bean.

“A ward,” said Archive. “Just in case.” [MORE]

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Thursday, July 30

The Evil Stars: Part 4 – Billy’s Club

A tall, muscular man entered with a pig-like squint to his eyes. He's dressed in the traditional riding leathers of a biker, complete with Satan's Sadists vest. He was huge and muscular, with python-like arms, a bald head covered by a do-rag, and bristling with hostility. In one arm was a fire ax, and a shotgun was in the other. The entire bar went silent when he entered.

“Billy,” said Hammer. He drew his pistols, unnoticed.

“Uh, excuse me suh,” said the owner, a small, shifty-looking tcho-tcho. “No weapons allowed he—“

Billy put the shotgun to the tcho-tcho’s head and pulled the trigger. [MORE]

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Tuesday, July 28

Evil Stars: Part 3 – Enter the Dragon

Toronto's Chinatown district was south of their hotel, bounded roughly by the thoroughfares of Dundas, Spadina, Queen, and College. Markets, restaurants, curio shops, newsstands, and other places of business dotted the streets, decorating the area with colorful signs--mostly in Chinese. Those of Chinese descent thronged the streets: live fish swam about in window-side tanks; orange- and red-necked barbecued duck and pork hung weirdly in restaurant and market windows: produce stands overflowed with fresh vegetables and fragrant fruits.

The newish Black Dragon Restaurant & Lounge was located in the heart of Chinatown, on Dundas Street. The large establishment featured Tcho-Tcho cuisine, previously unfamiliar to gourmets in the area and something of a hit with those who took dining seriously.

The restaurant exterior was painted a flamboyant gold and red: the green and black inferior was decorated with dragon statues, lanterns, Tcho-Tcho throwing spears, oddly wriggling octopus-like creatures, and so on. Whether the agents arrive for dinner, they ended up waiting in the lounge.

“Tcho-tchos,” said Jim-Bean with a sigh. “You know what we’re going to have to do, don’t you?”

Archive took the bait. “What?”

“Burn it down,” said Jim-Bean. [MORE]

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Friday, July 24

Evil Stars: Part 2 – Zymvotek

The biotechnology firm Zymvotek was a five-minute drive away. The agents pulled into a new industrial park, one of those campus-like affairs, with freshly-dyed grass and newly-purchased trees. They stopped before a silver-and-black, block-long building with a twelve -foot-high orange “Z” looming beside the main entrance.

The guards directed them to a loading dock, where they were greeted by two people in white lab coats, far down the side of the building. They passed out visitor passes to everyone.

“Oh great,” said Hammer. “It’s your girlfriend.”

“Not. My. Girlfriend,” said Jim-Bean through gritted teeth.

Dr. Lisa Howell had improved her looks since they last met, changing her haircut and even putting on makeup. She was cute, in a geek girl sort of way.

She smiled at Jim-Bean as the other lab assistant trundled the thing out of the back of the van. It began squealing again.

“So you got transferred, huh?” asked Jim-Bean, trying to make polite conversation and get Howell to stop smiling at him.

He was being polite; Howell was running a virtual reality server on a crystal matrix AI. It had nearly cost Howell her life. The saving grace was that the entire server system had been destroyed by the FRACTAL GODS virus, so there was no evidence of wrongdoing. Still, Majestic-12 punished any failure, including being in the wrong place at the right time. Her transfer to the opposite coast was a mild slap on the wrist.

Howell nodded. “At Zymvotek, we mostly study the commercial possibilities of bacteria—as food for humans, of course, and that's how the company began, but also as oil-eaters, selenium-fixers, mineral-concentrators, that sort of thing. Until a few weeks ago we had a division dedicated to cosmetics tests on animals. Everyone was glad to halt those tests, and the facilities are still intact: Corporate doesn’t know what to do with them until next year’s budget plan is complete. We can use this area for several months without interference: I've already gotten the space allocation."

They entered a large room, silent and empty except for lab benches, utility connections, and stacked rows of gleaming stainless steel cages numbering in the hundreds.

Howell’s chatter ended abruptly when the assistant removed the tarpaulin and she actually saw the creature in the cylinder. Her jaw dropped in delight.

"Sprague said this was something special, but I could never have dreamed of this! This is no recombinant product, gentlemen." she chuckled happily to herself, and began to make plans. Jim-Bean was abruptly forgotten.

“Have fun,” said Hammer. “In the mean time, we need to track down that biker gang. They somehow knew what we had in the truck. That means there’s a leak.”

Archive nodded. “I looked it up. Those bikers were members of Satan’s Sadists. They’re also security for God’s Lost Children—“

“GLC?” asked Jim-Bean. “One of those guys was wearing a shirt with GLC on it.”

Archive nodded. “God’s Lost Children. Harking back to such elaborate ’70s rock acts as KISS, Pink Floyd, and Alice Cooper, God’s Lost Children is as much a visual tour de force as an act of pure sonic aggression — which is exactly why their handlers at Grandeur Records have pumped millions of dollars into making the band one of the top acts in the world. Through constant media exposure, the whole process has taken less than six months.”

“I remember them,” said Hammer. “We played their record backwards…”

“Secrets of N’Kai,” said Archive, nodding along with Hammer. “That’s how we defeated that statue of Tsathoggua—“

“Sorry, what?” asked Jim-Bean.

“You weren’t there,” they said in unison.

Jim-Bean shrugged. “Oh.” [MORE]

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Thursday, July 23

Evil Stars: Part 1 – The Inevitable Happens

Hammer, Jim-Bean, and Archive drove down a large black truck down a four-lane thoroughfare--two lanes each northeast and southwest—past dusty commercial offices and light industry.

“You see that?” asked Jim-Bean, looking back over his shoulder out the window.

“What?” asked Hammer, eyes on the road.

“Motorcycles. Lots of ‘em.”

The thrum of motorcycle engines was suddenly all around them.

Three motorcycles pulled up on either side of them. Each motorcycle was driven by a massive biker wearing leathers, a beard, sunglasses, dangling skull-and-crossbones earrings, confederate flag patches, imitation Iron Crosses, and handlebars that end in spiked mace heads. All of the biker gang wore jackets with a cartoon face of Satan flanked by Capital S’s on their backs. One biker-man's T-shirt read “GLC”.

Riding behind two of the bikers were tough-looking young blondes dressed less remarkably. Each woman carried a medium-sized flat box with the butt end propped against her right thigh. One biker-woman's pants had a two-inch circle carefully cut in the seat, through which showed skin and a neatly-tattooed yellow triskelion.

“Hammer,” said Archive, “there’s a black van in front and behind us—“

The truck jolted as the van behind them hit its bumper. The van in front began to slow down.

“They’re boxing us in!” shouted Hammer. [MORE]

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Wednesday, July 22

Evil Stars: Prologue

Jatik handed Archive a computer printout.

“Dear Mr. Jatik,” read Archive aloud. “This situation is so upsetting to me that I am unable to work effectively. I really don't know how to reply to your questions. There are so many things to explain, and so many places I could start. Now that I have raised the issue, I need a few days to compose a methodical presentation which you can use to create a plan of action. Per the enclosed exhibit, please follow the instructions carefully. It has to do with the work being done here. Enough of these things have died that I can fake the death of one more.”

Archive hesitated. “There’s a paragraph entitled ‘feeding instructions.’”

Jatik nodded sagely. Hammer encouraged Archive to keep reading.

He shrugged and continued. “The specimen currently eats a diet of 6 parts raw hamburger, 4 parts freshly-killed flies, and 1 part bone meal, in the total amount of 1 kg per 10 kg of body mass. It does not appear to ingest liquids directly, though a colleague believes that it does in higher humidity. Since acquisition, it has grown slowly—weight it weekly and increase feedings proportionately.”

“What eats freshly killed flies?” asked Hammer.

Jatik cleared his throat. “Dr. Gall disappeared approximately a week ago. His dented and damaged car was found abandoned al Seacliff Palisades Park, in a quiet residential neighborhood. Based on evidence found in the car, the police believe that Gall committed suicide. They make that guess mostly from the evidence of Tail's car. I can supply the name of the detective in charge of the case. Sgt. Jack Bolling."

“So someone killed him to shut him up? What did he give you, Jatik?” asked Hammer.

"The affair is even stranger than you may be guessing,” said Jatik. He uttered a brief command into a phone, and two aides pushed in a short dolly. It bore a crate covered by a tarpaulin.

Jatik dismissed the two men. As he swept back the covering. Jatik couldn’t refrain from a flourish, but his "Tah-dah" was flat and ominous, as it might be: inside wriggled an eighteen-inch-high tentacle THING.

As soon as the tarpaulin was lifted, the thing leaped across the container towards Hammer in a single lunge, squeaking fiercely, its tentacles gripping the sides of the cylinder in a fruitless effort to snag such toothsome food.

The creature was in a travel container, a Plexiglas cylinder about a yard wide and a yard high, walls an inch thick, closed at either end by stout hydraulic clamps and double-latched. A few breathing holes broke the seal.

“What the hell is that?” asked Hammer. [MORE]

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Tuesday, July 21

The Evil Stars: Introduction

This story hour is from “The Evil Stars” in Cthulhu Now by the late Keith Herber. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

  • Game Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
  • Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero/Acolyte) played by Joe Lalumia
  • Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://jeremyrobertortiz.blogspot.com)
  • Kurtis “Hammer” Grange (Fast/Dedicated Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster

Despite the fact that I wrote scenarios months in advance, sometimes I get caught by surprise. And this session, the players finished the previous scenario faster than I anticipated. I had my notes, so we dove right into the next one. The challenge was that I knew we wouldn’t finish the second scenario, so I had to find a natural break. Fortunately, this scenario does just that.

The Evil Stars is a scenario loaded with cheese. It features an evil rock band who makes a deal with dark mythos forces in the most complicated way imaginable. God’s Lost Children, whom I introduced in a much earlier scenario, uses its tours across the U.S. to lead the crowd in a mystical chant that in turn empowers standing stones. The chant idea is actually pretty cool – the notion that a major death metal star is hiring cement trucks to build massive standing stones at each concert isn’t nearly as a cool. But far be it from me to shrink from a challenge. I can only go to this “heavy metal really is evil” well so many times, so I crammed it full of every cliché I could think of.

First, we actually start with the biker gang, Satan’s Sadists, as part of the At Your Door campaign. This is a nice introduction to the gang and gives the agents a reason to care what they’re up to. After the gang attempts (and fails) to steal the baby dark young they were transporting to a Majestic-12 front company, the agents get a lead on the gang. They’re not hard to follow, since they’re security for God’s Lost Children.

But I didn’t stop there. I shifted Star’s role to a much more important one, turned Billy into a killing machine, and created a narrative that took a page from Terminator: Star wants to snitch on Satan’s Sadists, but it’s up to the agents to retrieve her. And when Brianne (changed from Brian, because I have a rock star female figure) Lochnar of God’s Lost Children finds out, she calls in his Mythos favor to set Billy on her trail. What ensues is a long string of violent interludes that culminates in a battle of the bands. [MORE]

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Thursday, July 16

Black Guard: Conclusion

Jim-Bean, Hammer, and Archive walked slowly out of the house, backwards, weapons on the ground.

“We’re with CIFA,” said Hammer. “My badge is on the ground.”

The cops grabbed their badges and cuffed them while they checked out their identification.

Nina Juarez was at the ready, this time with a camera crew.

“Agent Grange,” she said, “we’ve gotten reports that Dr. Bitterich was seen at Revie’s Retreat, a funeral home. Was his death a hoax?”

“I don’t know,” said Hammer, looking a little pale. “You tell me.”

“If they saw Bitterich,” said Archive, frowning, “then that means…” he caught himself when Nina swung the camera to face him.

“What was that?” The floodlight beamed onto Archive’s sweaty face.

Archive smiled and whispered something.

The camera popped and sparked as the floodlight went out. [MORE]

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Sunday, July 12

Black Guard: Part 9 – You Scream, I Scream…

The stairs led down into extreme darkness. Their flashlights did not illuminate in the normal way, casting a much dimmer light upon their surroundings. The basement was circular, approximately sixty-foot in diameter. Images of demonic figures, and black writing accompanied them. A large pentagram sketched in white chalk covered the center of the room. The chalk glowed as their flashlight beams traced its perimeter.

A tall man sat akimbo inside the center of the pentagram. He appeared to sleep with his arms folded across his chest. He wore jeans and a dark polo shirt. He was barefoot, with a tag on one toe. What was visible of his body was entirely covered by blackened and blistered skin, oily and sticky to the touch.

Thirteen burned red candles ringed the pentagram. On the opposite side of the room was a small rectangular table that held seven small statues.

Hammer drew his pistols. Jim-Bean pulled out his gas mask and put it on top of his head, ready to be flipped down over his face at any moment.

The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, and the candles spontaneously lit. A demonic voice echoed through the chamber and the man rose…

Hammer fired several bullets into the figure, but he barely reacted.

“He’s already dead,” said Archive. “Mundane weapons won’t work.”

“Well do something about it!”

With a scream, the man reared back and black tar spewed out of his mouth.

Archive pulled out a piece of chalk and penciled an Elder Sign onto the hilt of Hammer’s pistols. Then he made a mark on Hammer’s forehead.

“What’s that for?” asked Hammer.

“It will protect you,” said Archive.

“Oh man that’s disgusting,” said Jim-Bean, transfixed. The vomiting continued, as the tar slowly encompassed the corpse, volume far beyond the capacity of a human stomach to contain.

“What about my gun?” asked Jim-Bean.

“No time,” said Archive. He tossed him a pocket knife. “Use mine.”

“But this is…” Jim-Bean looked down. It was a Glock. “Never mind.”

The tar rose into a roughly humanoid form, rippling like a pool of black mud, exploding in geysers. It expanded to a size larger than an elephant, but only because of its lengthy lumbering limbs and legs did it project size. Its head was topped by a single black oval eye and snout-like mouth, a receptor filled with needle-like teeth similar to the spines of a cactus. The stench of ammonia filled the room. But by far the most awful part of the beast is its shriek, which sounded like a dying animal slaughtered in the most horrific manner. It echoed inside their skulls.

Archive presented the Elder Sign amulet. “In the name of—“

The Screaming Crawler moved with the grace and speed of a leopard. It closed the distance to Archive in one stride, slamming him against the wall with an undulating limb of ooze and claws. [MORE]

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Saturday, July 11

Black Guard: Part 8 – House Inspection

The house next door to the Gray’s was a large gray-brick home with an attached two-door garage and a large privacy fence encompassing the back yard. The home was two-stories tall with large bay windows along the front. Very few flowers grew in the yard and tall bushes filled the flowerbeds bordering the home.

Police flyers posted on the doors and windows pronounced that the home was “sealed by order of Judge Joe McCrary of Rosetta, Texas, pending completion of a criminal investigation. Anyone entering the premises without proper authority are in violation of this court-order and may be subject to criminal procedures.”

Jim-Bean approached the door. It was locked. He put one palm on it and concentrated.

The door clicked open as the various locks and chains undid themselves, bending to his will. The door flung itself open to reveal…

Hammer standing there.

“The window was open,” muttered Hammer, shaking his head.

The living room was spacious but sparsely decorated. An entertainment center sat on the north side of the room, just right of a door leading to the guest room. A 19” television set and an impressive surround sound system dominated the entertainment center. Lining the center was a rack of music CDs.

Jim-Bean checked out the audio equipment. “Manufactured in Germany. Go figure.”

A small brown couch and a faded leather recliner were centered on the entertainment center. Only two pictures were hung on the walls. One was a painting of a blonde boy looking upward, and the other was a picture of the 69 Mets following their World Series win. Under the picture was a banner with the caption, “You gotta believe!”

“I didn’t figure Nazis for Mets fans,” said Hammer.

A small fireplace filled the east corner next to the back wall. There was a closet beside the front door and an opening that led to the office on the southern wall. Two archways opened on the northern wall, one leading into a formal dining room, while the other provided access to the kitchen. There was a set of stairs going up in the center of the western wall, and a restroom door as well. A balcony overhung half the room, providing a good view of the front door and the front half of the living room.

“Spread out,” said Hammer. “I want a room by room search. Whatever happened is going on with this Doctor has something to do with this house.”

Jim-Bean caught a glimpse of a figure slipping across the threshold of the stairwell upstairs. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

“This is Nina Juarez,” whispered the GNN reporter into her handheld wireless microphone. “I’m here live in the Nazi house of Frank Manz, also known as Doctor Olaf Bitterich. I’ve searched the rooms here and despite the house supposedly being abandoned there’s evidence that someone, or something, is living here. Curiously, I found a pen with Dr. Revinowitz’s name on it, the forensic examiner on the case. I think I just heard someone enter the home…”

Jim-Bean’s psychic senses were suddenly tugged downwards into the center of the house, as if something was trying to get his attention. He perceived a terrible screeching, like nails on a chalkboard – he didn’t hear it, but he felt it tingle up and down his spine.

Jim-Bean sighed. “It’s that GNN reporter again.”

“How did she get here before us?” asked Archive.

“Juarez!” shouted Hammer. “Get down here!”

Nina slunk her way down the steps. “Agent Grange? What are you doing here?”

“You are in violation of a court order!” snarled Hammer. “Get out of here!”

Nina recovered, holding the microphone up to Hammer’s face. “Why is the government interested in this place, Agent Grange?”

Archive lifted one hand and the microphone began to spark.

Nina threw the microphone down in disgust. “Why does this keep happening!” He took out her tape recorder.

Archive kept his hand up, whispering to himself.

Nina played the tape. All that came out was static.

“Oh come on…”

Archive’s chanting grew louder. He opened his eyes and Nina was compelled to look at him.

Then she bolted for the door.

“What did you do to her?” asked Jim-Bean.

Archive shrugged. “Broke her microphone, degaussed her tape recorder, and scared the crap out of her.”

“So pretty much what we did to her last time,” snorted Hammer. [MORE]

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Friday, July 10

Black Guard: Part 7 – Sphere of Influence

Archive was helping Jim-Bean to his feet when Hammer met them in the kitchen.

“What happened?” asked Hammer, pistols out.

“Jim-Bean was possessed by an entity,” said Archive matter-of-factly. “A victim of somebody called…”

“The Doctor. I know, I heard about him from Matthew.”

“You okay?” asked Hammer.

Jim-Bean shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “I’m fine,” he said. “That was weird.”

“The little girl was…a…” Archive’s eyes were focused on the other side of the room. “…conduit…”

A six-inch diameter ball of energy emerged from the ceiling and floated before them.

Archive stumbled backwards, panting in fear. “Oh Jesus!” he wailed, falling over one of the bar stools. “Get it away from me!”

The orb flashed colors sequentially, going from white to blue to green to red, and back to white.

“Archive,” said Hammer slowly. “Be cool.”

Archive ran towards Lisa’s room.

“What the hell?” asked Jim-Bean. “I mean, it’s a ghost and everything but he was cool about the poltergeist…”

“It’s a sphere,” snapped Hammer, pointing his pistols at the thing. “Remember what happened at the park?” [MORE]

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Wednesday, July 8

Black Guard: Part 6 – The Doctor is In

Hammer checked in on Matthew, who was sitting up straight in his bed, listening to the ruckus.

“You okay kid?”

Matthew nodded. “Yeah, the Rabbi says it’s okay.”

Hammer edged into the room. “He’s here with you now?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I speak with him?”

Matthew cocked his head, listening. “He says you can speak through me.” [MORE]

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Black Guard: Part 5 – Chasing Aimee

Lisa gathered up Marissa at the entrance to the girl’s bedroom, sans door. An incredible force had ripped it right off its hinges.

“What happened?” she asked, half-fearing the answer.

“Whatever it is, it’s gone now,” said Archive.

Lisa peered into the Marissa’s room. “What’s he doing?”

“You’d better get Matthew and go to your bedroom,” said Archive. “Lock the door.”

Lisa, pale with fear, carried Marissa to Matthew’s room. Archive took a deep breath and walked into Marissa’s room.

Jim-Bean was on the floor, playing with Marissa’s dolls, and most specifically a floppy orange little monster.

“Jimmy?” he asked.

Jim-Bean looked up. His pupils were completely white.

“I am…Aimee Resnick,” said Jim-Bean in a soft, feminine voice. [MORE]

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Tuesday, July 7

Black Guard: Part 4 – “I Love You…”

Jim-Bean pushed aside a floppy orange-colored doll with wide, staring eyes and a huge grinning maw to reach for the figurines. To his psychic perception they were sparkling with energy. He had no idea how they’d gotten into Marissa’s closet.

Jim-Bean didn’t realize the temperature in the room had plummeted until he caught sight of the sleeping girl’s breath, misting in the air. He shivered.

Banging resounded from the kitchen, breaking the silence within the home. Crashing sounds and breaking glass quickly followed, as the volume of noise increases to deafening levels.

Jim-Bean leapt up and ran into the kitchen, pistol out. Archive and Jim-Bean skidded into the kitchen at the same time.

The cabinets of the kitchen violently opened, slammed shut, and opened again. With each opening, contents of the cabinets crashed out onto the tiled floor.

“What the hell is going on?” shouted Hammer, pointing his pistol everywhere at once.

“Poltergeist!” shouted Archive. “It’s probably connected to the girl—“

The pantry door boomed as it banged shut, and reopened.

Jim-Bean ducked a can of food. Unlike his two companions, he could see the normally invisible poltergeist.

It looks just like Marissa’s doll, only larger. It had two saucer-sized eyes, the black pupils punctuating the white surface. Its maw was in a perpetual expression of slack-jawed stupidity. It had large, bird-like feet and rubbery arms that ended in cartoon-like hands with just three fingers. A short stubby tail wagged behind it as it tore open cabinets and tossed their contents around like a toddler throwing a tantrum. [MORE]

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Monday, July 6

Black Guard: Part 3 – They’re Here

The grandfather clock in the Gray’s house bonged twelve times.

Archive’s cistron buzzed. He had voice mail.

Archive clicked on the ear bud in his ear. “Any of you guys just leave me a message?”

Positioned at guard posts in the intersecting halls of the house, Hammer and Jim-Bean confirmed they hadn’t.

“Maybe it’s one of your fans,” muttered Hammer. “Since everyone seems to have your phone number.”

“Very funny,” said Archive. “My old cell phone number redirects to the cistron.”

“Maybe you should play it,” said Jim-Bean.

Archive replayed the message with the other agents on the line.

The message crackled with static. But there was a whispered, urgent message within the noise.

“What was that?” asked Hammer.

“I think it said something about finding a body,” said Archive. “Did you hear that?” [MORE target="_blank"]

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Friday, July 3

Black Guard: Part 2 – The Book of Matthew

Archive chose his words carefully. “More like a guardian spirit,” he said. “This Rabbi, whoever he is, is watching over Matthew.”

Lisa sighed. “About time one of them was useful. I’m going to go put Marissa to bed. Wake me if you need anything.”

Lisa left. Hammer and Jim-Bean joined Archive at the doorway, leaving behind the electronic sounds of exploding zombies.

“So how did that scroll get in there?” asked Jim-Bean.

“Ghosts don’t usually write things without help.”

“Help?” asked Hammer.

“The Rabbi possessed Matthew,” Archive said grimly. [MORE]

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Thursday, July 2

Black Guard: Part 1 – Going Gray

Ms. Gray’s home was in the west side of Rosetta on a cul-de-sac containing only five homes. A concrete sidewalk connected each home along the cul-de-sac.

The Gray home was a single story, red-bricked home with an attached garage. There was a large pecan tree in the front yard and several oak and pine trees shading the back yard. The backyard had a seven-foot wooden privacy fence. Although Ms. Gray had rose bushes and colorful annuals bordering her home, they were neglected and many had withered. Very little traffic occurred in the area. Lisa drove a new, white minivan, which she parked in the driveway.

Hammer pulled the SUV up. “Maybe we should stay in the car,” he said with a frown.

Archive blinked. “Why?”

“This isn’t our case. I don’t want to freak the poor woman out.”

“You?” asked Jim-Bean with a smirk. “Intimidating?” He switched to a Texas drawl. “Why I do declare I’ve never heard – I say I’ve never heard – of such a thing!”

“That sounds like Foghorn Leghorn,” said Hammer. [MORE]

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Wednesday, July 1

Black Guard: Prologue

Rosetta was a small suburban town, widely known for its beautiful woods. The total population just touched 53,000. Many wealthy families lived in the area and this affluence provided access to many amenities and services. The city had a large library, a first class private hospital, and a professional police force and fire department.

Rosetta was home to RaeMart Industries, a large scientific firm that created specialized missile technology. Rosetta’s schools were some of the best in Texas and the students consistently scored among the highest in the state. Rosetta was home to the American Dream.

The north side of town consisted mostly of industrial zones and shopping areas, including a large mall. The east side was the oldest part of town and many of the families who lived there were very wealthy and owned large plantation-style homes. To the south lay the “poor” section of town, which was the only area zoned for apartment buildings.

“So there’s supposed to be a Nazi around here somewhere?” asked Hammer, driving a huge black SUV.

Jim-Bean shrugged from the passenger seat. “I know what I saw. Galt said Rosetta, Texas. And some doctor.”

Archive scanned his limited-access cistron. “The old town square holds an arts and crafts festival most weekends and is ringed by a number of antique stores. The most popular restaurant is The Cattleman, but many chain restaurants can be found on the north side of town.”

“But nothing about Nazis?” asked Hammer.

“Nothing yet,” said Archive. “But if you had a Nazi living in town, wouldn’t you bury it?”

“Point taken,” said Hammer. [MORE]

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Sunday, June 28

Chapter 40: Last Rites of the Black Guard - Introduction

This story hour is from “Last Rites of the Black Guard” by Ed Wetterman. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

  • Game Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
  • Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero/Acolyte) played by Joe Lalumia
  • Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://jeremyrobertortiz.blogspot.com)
  • Kurtis “Hammer” Grange (Fast/Dedicated Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster

If you’re familiar with the Karotechia in Delta Green, you know that it is led by a triumvirate of Nazis on their last legs: the ancient Olaf Bitterich, the artificially sustained Gunter Frank, and the immortal Reinhard Galt. Advancing the Delta Green timeline thus causes a bit of a problem, because Bitterich should be dead of old age. The solution: Last Rites of the Black Guard (LRBG).

LRBG assumes the characters will conduct a séance, which isn’t necessarily something every group will try. Instead, I had our resident psychic character possessed by Aimee’s spirit and let him role-play out the answers with the other characters. Only after enough clues were gathered about what happened to the spirits did I reveal that there was once a Nazi living next door.

LRBG then moves to the second part of the scenario, which is essentially a death trap. Once the investigators find their way down to the secret door, it locks behind them and they are engaged in a fight for their lives with a Risen of Osiris, an undead monster. Since I adopted this monster to a Delta Green setting, I changed it to a Screaming Crawler. The effect is the same: the investigators have to slog it out in a toe-to-toe fight. My players were unhappy about this, expecting to uncover some plot-device to destroy it. The monster has no other purpose than as a guardian, which surprised my players, who expected it to be the old Nazi himself.

This scenario provided a mix of creepy investigation and slugging it out with a supernatural beast. Because of how the fight went down, Archive was taken out early, which left it up to the gunslinger and the faceman. The gunslinger enjoyed himself, the faceman didn’t.

Defining Moment: Since his incident with Yog-Sothoth, Archive is terrified of spheres. Which just happens to be the form an ABE takes… [MORE]

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Wednesday, June 24

Dead Letter: Conclusion

“What the hell was that?” asked Hammer.

Fiona sat in the middle between Hammer and Jim-Bean. She was still coming to. Archive drove and Guppy sat in the passenger seat.

“I think that was patient zero,” said Jim-Bean. “Whatever it was, it’s been dead a long time.”

“And infected with Sapphire,” said Hammer. “Site compromised. Initiate PURGATORY. Repeat: PURGATORY.”

“I remember that,” said Jim-Bean, “wait, you’re not…”

“I am,” said Hammer. “The entire site has to be wiped out. If that gorilla makes it out into the wild…”

“But the evidence!” shouted Jim-Bean. “We can trace this back to the Karotechia!”

“No time,” said Hammer.

Jim-Bean focused. He might not be able to gather evidence physically, but he had his own ways of gathering information. He concentrated.

Horst Jaeger was screaming frantically in German to a laptop microphone and webcam. A bandaged figure, with the same pale blue eyes as the big Nazi they encountered at the chemical plant, barked a command. Jim-Bean’s remote viewing couldn’t make out the location of the Nazi, but he could see his name written at the bottom of the screen: REINHARD GALT.

Jim-Bean didn’t speak German. Galt’s speech was slurred and there was interference in the wireless feed. He could make out the words “The Doctor” and “Rosetta, Texas.”

The signal suddenly went out. The laptop rattled. Jaeger looked up in fear… [MORE]

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Tuesday, June 23

Dead Letter: Part 20 – Going Ape

The sound of a roaring engine reached his ears. Hammer grabbed Fiona and dragged her out of the way.

The front end of a car smashed through the garage door, ramming into the cages in the back of the garage.

Hammer peered through the window. Jim-Bean, slumped over the wheel, looked up. “That enough of a distraction?”

Hammer frowned. “Yeah. Keep them busy, I’ll get Fiona to safety.”

“Oh sure,” said Jim-Bean.

Hammer fled, half-dragging Fiona with him.

Heavy breathing caused Jim-Bean to peer back through the front of the car, beyond the cracked windshield. Something huge and dark moved in the shadows of the now torn open cage.

Jim-Bean threw the car into reverse, but the wheels merely screeched. The vehicle was held fast by two huge, gangrenous paws that gripped either side of the front fender. [MORE]

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Monday, June 22

Dead Letter: Part 19 – I Know Nahzing!

Jim-Bean sauntered up to the front gate. He yelled at the guardhouse. “Hello?”

A guard stepped out, dressed in camouflage and carrying an automatic weapon. “This facility is private property.” He tapped the large sign that read: PRIVATE PROPERTY. “You must leave.”

“Oh that’s okay, I don’t plan to stay long,” said Jim-Bean. “I’m looking for Fiona Lin-Wei, have you seen here?”

The guard went into the gatehouse and picked up a phone. After a hushed conversation, Jim-Bean was ushered in.

“Jaeger will see you. Follow me please.” [MORE]

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Saturday, June 20

Dead Letter: Part 18 – A Real Bear

The Training Center was located off State Road 12, on a logging road deep in the Rocky Mountains north of Sonora, California. The terrain was mountainous with dense pine and redwood forests. The agents were positioned on top of a ridge overlooking the facility.

The Bear Flag Republic Training Center was a large compound surrounded by a ten-foot-high, chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. A two-lane paved road led up to a gatehouse, from which an armed security guard checked in visitors and monitored the compound on closed-circuit TV. Guards with dogs made one patrol of the compound every four minutes. Beyond the gate were several buildings of various sizes and a parking lot.

The lot contained a dark green Chevy Suburban (license plate UBER-01) and a black van with license plate AIK 834. In the center of the compound was a large, cylindrical tank approximately 100 feet in diameter and 100 feet high. The road led right up to the tank and encircles it. The other buildings in the compound were the office, the garage, and the barracks.

An unmarked tanker truck stopped at the gatehouse for clearance, then pulled up to the tank, connected a hose to it, and transferred its cargo.

“That’s got to be Sapphire.” Hammer handed off his binoculars to Jim-Bean. “Guppy, think you can override their security cameras? A place out here probably doesn’t have too many wires…”

Guppy tapped a few keys on his cistron. “Yes. It’s wireless all right. I can put in a repeat feed.”

“Do it.” He turned to Jim-Bean. “Jimmy, I need you to provide a distraction.”

Jim-Bean grinned. “No problem.” [MORE]

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Thursday, June 18

Dead Letter: Part 16 – Men in Black

Hammer, Archive, and Jim-Bean drove Fiona back to the nearest Majestic-12 facility. Guppy lay unconscious in the back seat.

“Tell her,” said Jim-Bean. “She’s seen too much already.”

Archive looked fearfully at Hammer, who was driving. But he nodded.

“We work for an organization, an organization of the highest level of secrecy,” said Hammer. “It’s a clandestine taskforce that deals with the elimination and obscuration of preternatural phenomena that pose a threat to our citizens and their country."

Fiona, dirt smudging her face and an ugly purple bruise on her cheek, looked askance at Hammer. “And what organization might that be?”

“Majestic-12,” said Jim-Bean. “But our cover is the Counter-Intelligence Field Agency.”

Fiona sighed. “So you ARE government goons.”

“We’re beyond the government,” said Hammer. [MORE]

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Wednesday, June 17

Dead Letter: Part 15 – Safe at Last

Hammer creaked open the safe door. Fire and sparks lit the darkness around him. Plaster and wires hung from the ceiling. The explosion deafened him. His ears were ringing.

The world swam as Hammer stumbled out of the rubble. He looked around. All the Nazis were dead.

Klaxons continued to wail. The way back up the steps was blocked, but Hammer could make out the opening to the Sapphire plant, a stairwell on the other side of the room. He shoved some debris out of the way.

Hammer sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look.

One blackened, burned hand shoved its way out of the rubble.

“Oh, no…” whispered Hammer to himself. He dug faster.

Like some Nordic god, the Nazi rose up naked out of the scorched earth around him. He was over six feet tall, with a very muscular physique and classic German features. His blonde hair was cut short, his face clean-shaven. He looked as if he could have stepped out of a World War II SS recruitment poster.

“No!” Hammer dug faster.

The Nazi reached over and pulled out a jagged piece of metal. Testing its weight in his hands, he slowly stalked towards Hammer with murderous purpose. [MORE]

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Tuesday, June 16

Dead Letter: Part 14 – It’s Been a Blast

“Gogogo!” Jim-Bean ran.

The horde had swelled to include every zombie in the facility, over one hundred, clawing and screeching, stumbling over each other to get to the sweet flesh.

The agents skidded out into the main hall. They were surrounded. The zombies began to moan softly, tightening the noose as they closed in on their prey.

“BY THE POWER OF THE ELDER SIGN!” shouted Archive. He thrust the phylactery before him and the zombies, as one, were thrust backward as if hit by a wave of force. The sign was losing its efficacy against them.

They dashed for the door.

“Fiona!” shouted Jim-Bean. “Throw Guppy’s satchel behind you. Now!” [MORE]

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