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Records of the Boston Parapsycological Society
15 years ago
General
Inane Rambling of a Demented Predator
At GhenghisCon, running an assortment of Cthulhu adventures to amuse and enlighten the poor innocent fools, I mean, convention-goers. A bonus - the venue is a red-brick university building well-infested with vines, leadwork windows, and antique library books. Nicely atmospheric.
Running - Kevin A. Ross' "A Pale God" from Great Old Ones, chosen because of the excellent recording at Yog inspired me, and because I don't mind wiping out all my players at a con game.
'The Haunting', because of course I'm going to run the all-time classic for the newbies
and 'The Flophouse Fatalities' - a homebrewed, that I knew would work well in under 3 hours, and a nice little mystery ending with more questions than it managed to solve. No quotable quotes, but I was very impressed with the intelligence and foresight of the players in that one.
In all sessions the investigators were amateur parapsychologists emulating Harry Price et al and ghost-hunting for fun. It very swiftly stopped being fun. For one thing the events out at the bandstand in 'Pale God' were so horrifying that one PC spent the night staring at a small white thing walking around and around inside a bottle, whilst he himself worked his way through several more, of gin. In the morning he swore to tell the police everything, but his obvious intoxication didn't leave a good impression.
Drunken Jock : Eats you up inside! The Worm! In the bottle! The thing in the bottle!
Sergeant : Riiiiight... That's that Mexican drink, isn't it?
Not that it was all ghastly, at least at first glance. A certain amount of gossip was started in Arkham, for example, when a local doctor and one of his unmarried nurses book a room at the Hotel Miskatonic. Admittedly the shenanigans involved breaking into the room next door, as opposed to anything lewd, but that won't stop the rumours. And being seen driving through town with a large tribal spear strapped to the Model T roof, and wearing a safari helmet and miner's lamps, attracted considerable attention too.
Are we wearing university blazers? We can pretend it's part of a scavenger hunt.
One of the students develops a slightly deranged affection for some of the specimens - 'Frederick' & 'Isobel' - and wants to see if she can breed them as pets.
Me, GM : Um, that would probably be a really bad idea
Her : Why?
Me, GM : You've seen how they breed
Her : *Remembers the screaming, the hysteria, and the state of the corpse.* Oh yeah....
Scenario ends with two of the investigators coming back to the house in question, to find one of their compatriots fleeing for distant parts, one gibbering and preparing to burn the house down, one missing entirely and one gibbering alone in the dark with no idea how he got there or what happened. He finds out a few weeks later, but derives no posthumous satisfaction from the knowledge.
Jock OOC : Guess I acquiesced to It's demand. 'Give me your sticky white... love bits'
And the classic, The Haunting, which ended with attempted murder, madness, and suicide, thus ensuring that the evil reputation of the Corbitt house will continue forever, especially since they managed to catch the sound of the first round of carnage on wax cylinder.
It started well.
Quincy the Grad Student : So why did you get into ghost-hunting anyway?
Professor OOC : I saw Erotic Ghost Story once and I want an erotic ghost story of my own.
Looking at PC photos.
Geek : He looks extinguished.
Me, GM : EX-tinguished???
Quincy the Grad finds a good way to detect ghosts and other supernatural manifestations - by bashing things with a hammer. Eliot the Geek is left in the haunt room to document everything, measure the room in minute detail, set up a wax cylinder to record - and photograph the blood oozing from the hammer hole in the wall.
Me, GM : He really is your party's bitch, isn't he.
Alas, the furniture objects to his continued presence. Running back to the haunted room and looking down at their mangled friend.
Quincy the Grad : Perhaps he was tired of living?
After carting their friend off for a long convalescence they decide they should hit the library for further research. Finding a worm-eaten copy of the Liber Ivonis
Quincy the Grad : Shall I do Detect Ghosts on the book? *waves hammer*
Quincy the Grad : *to hardware clerk* I want your finest, cheapest ladder!
Me, GM : You can always put it on your expenses
Quincy the Grad : I want your most expensive ladder!
This all proves most useful, and they return to the Corbitt House confident of their imminent success.
Instead the four find themselves locked in the basement, defending themselves against demonic possession and worse, one unconscious and stabbed in the intestines, one shot in the knees, one stark-raving bonkers, and one dead having blown his own brains out after a glance at whatever was through the hole in the wall. And all this because they discovered Corbitt's diaries, wanted to cast the spell in it, and went looking for his ceremonial knife. They found it. Then it found them.
Me, GM : The Professor has apparently gone insane and is trying to stab Quincy to death. On the other hand, you all know what Quincy is like so stabbing him is entirely understandable.
The Corbitt House's reputation for decades of madness, suicide and bloodshed continues...
Running - Kevin A. Ross' "A Pale God" from Great Old Ones, chosen because of the excellent recording at Yog inspired me, and because I don't mind wiping out all my players at a con game.
'The Haunting', because of course I'm going to run the all-time classic for the newbies
and 'The Flophouse Fatalities' - a homebrewed, that I knew would work well in under 3 hours, and a nice little mystery ending with more questions than it managed to solve. No quotable quotes, but I was very impressed with the intelligence and foresight of the players in that one.
In all sessions the investigators were amateur parapsychologists emulating Harry Price et al and ghost-hunting for fun. It very swiftly stopped being fun. For one thing the events out at the bandstand in 'Pale God' were so horrifying that one PC spent the night staring at a small white thing walking around and around inside a bottle, whilst he himself worked his way through several more, of gin. In the morning he swore to tell the police everything, but his obvious intoxication didn't leave a good impression.
Drunken Jock : Eats you up inside! The Worm! In the bottle! The thing in the bottle!
Sergeant : Riiiiight... That's that Mexican drink, isn't it?
Not that it was all ghastly, at least at first glance. A certain amount of gossip was started in Arkham, for example, when a local doctor and one of his unmarried nurses book a room at the Hotel Miskatonic. Admittedly the shenanigans involved breaking into the room next door, as opposed to anything lewd, but that won't stop the rumours. And being seen driving through town with a large tribal spear strapped to the Model T roof, and wearing a safari helmet and miner's lamps, attracted considerable attention too.
Are we wearing university blazers? We can pretend it's part of a scavenger hunt.
One of the students develops a slightly deranged affection for some of the specimens - 'Frederick' & 'Isobel' - and wants to see if she can breed them as pets.
Me, GM : Um, that would probably be a really bad idea
Her : Why?
Me, GM : You've seen how they breed
Her : *Remembers the screaming, the hysteria, and the state of the corpse.* Oh yeah....
Scenario ends with two of the investigators coming back to the house in question, to find one of their compatriots fleeing for distant parts, one gibbering and preparing to burn the house down, one missing entirely and one gibbering alone in the dark with no idea how he got there or what happened. He finds out a few weeks later, but derives no posthumous satisfaction from the knowledge.
Jock OOC : Guess I acquiesced to It's demand. 'Give me your sticky white... love bits'
And the classic, The Haunting, which ended with attempted murder, madness, and suicide, thus ensuring that the evil reputation of the Corbitt house will continue forever, especially since they managed to catch the sound of the first round of carnage on wax cylinder.
It started well.
Quincy the Grad Student : So why did you get into ghost-hunting anyway?
Professor OOC : I saw Erotic Ghost Story once and I want an erotic ghost story of my own.
Looking at PC photos.
Geek : He looks extinguished.
Me, GM : EX-tinguished???
Quincy the Grad finds a good way to detect ghosts and other supernatural manifestations - by bashing things with a hammer. Eliot the Geek is left in the haunt room to document everything, measure the room in minute detail, set up a wax cylinder to record - and photograph the blood oozing from the hammer hole in the wall.
Me, GM : He really is your party's bitch, isn't he.
Alas, the furniture objects to his continued presence. Running back to the haunted room and looking down at their mangled friend.
Quincy the Grad : Perhaps he was tired of living?
After carting their friend off for a long convalescence they decide they should hit the library for further research. Finding a worm-eaten copy of the Liber Ivonis
Quincy the Grad : Shall I do Detect Ghosts on the book? *waves hammer*
Quincy the Grad : *to hardware clerk* I want your finest, cheapest ladder!
Me, GM : You can always put it on your expenses
Quincy the Grad : I want your most expensive ladder!
This all proves most useful, and they return to the Corbitt House confident of their imminent success.
Instead the four find themselves locked in the basement, defending themselves against demonic possession and worse, one unconscious and stabbed in the intestines, one shot in the knees, one stark-raving bonkers, and one dead having blown his own brains out after a glance at whatever was through the hole in the wall. And all this because they discovered Corbitt's diaries, wanted to cast the spell in it, and went looking for his ceremonial knife. They found it. Then it found them.
Me, GM : The Professor has apparently gone insane and is trying to stab Quincy to death. On the other hand, you all know what Quincy is like so stabbing him is entirely understandable.
The Corbitt House's reputation for decades of madness, suicide and bloodshed continues...
