[Forum Game] The Void: Summer of Fear

[EmperorGrimm]

Coldfront.net @ /join #TheVoid

Hello and welcome to The Void: Summer of Fear, my horror roleplaying game. The game takes place in the small town of Lake Squaw, which has long been a vacationing spot for middle class families during the Summers. Located along Route 66 in California (look up Amboy, California, that is the location with some fictional additions), the town has a history of strange occurrences, tragedy, and brutal murders. Though by July 4th, 1968, the town has either forgotten its past or dismissed the old stories as fables. As the upper middle class spend their final month in their lakefront houses, celebrating the 4th of July, darkness lurks threatening all who live in Lake Squaw. But the story will begin once we get enough players signed up.

For now, I need you guys to create your characters. You will provide the following information.

Name/Alias (s):
Age:
Short Biography: between one and three paragraphs, do not make them gigantic

I will then create your statistics based off what you provide me. They'll look something like this.

Ben Hanson (age 32)
Health: 5/5
Psyche: 8/10
Combat: 3/5
Action Points: 25/50
Items/Abilities: Amulet of Ysil'och, can randomly see the future

Characters must be "everyman" types, no exceptions. They can be any gender, race, or creed but remember that its 1968 so make sure they fit into the time period. Also they have to plausibly be in Lake Squaw, a small american resort town along Route 66.

The game will progress via Episodes which can vary in length. Enough time at least to get orders in, to have us all get our IC in, and to have enough happen in the game in general. I will post updates with events for characters by designated locations marked off by my paintbrush map, it'll get the job done I think.

Health; represent's your physical well being
Psyche; represents how insane you are
Combat; how well you can fight
Action Points; some events will require action points that your characters can spend to engage them, AP also helps limiting the activity per Episode.
Items/Abilities: items can boost your stats while in your possession without having experiences to boost them, abilities are the same thing in regard to their effect on the game just that they represent abilities that are originate from your being instead of items.

That's about it for now, i'll be adding rules when they're needed and will answer your questions either via PM or my coldfront.net chat room. The game will operate as simply as possible and is geared toward story telling with statistics thrown in for stability and balance.

Orders Guidelines

1. You may PM or post in the thread your orders in Bold and a demarcation signifying that they're orders.
2. I will process your orders and inform you of the costs before I post the results.
3. Movement is the only thing set in stone, to move to a different area within a "locale" costs 10 AP. Between "locales" it cost 20 AP.
4. If I can't understand your orders i'll let you know unless they're just blatantly a mess without any effort put into organization.




​

 

[EmperorGrimm]

The Void: Summer of Fear

Old Ian Kelly after his murder

Prologue

Traveling on Route 66, people for generations have passed through the Mojave Desert. Most of them stopping off at the small towns that began as railroad stations during the 19th Century. When crossing over the California/Nevada border, beyond Needles, going west for thirty four miles the travelers would come across the town of Lake Squaw, built around the lake of the same name. The first settlers came from Boston and were descended from mostly Irish immigrants who sought as many others did, opportunity and fortune out on the frontier. Ian Kelly, a prize fighter who having grown too old for bloodsport took his savings and built a hotel and saloon near Lake Squaw, naming it Old Kelly's Hotel and Saloon. There were already houses constructed along the lakefront by pioneer families but there was not much else.

Lake Squaw like other towns in the Mojave was a railroad station for the Santa Fe Railroad. Old Kelly's became the haunt of many weary travelers, outlaws, and simple families who didn't have the resources to continue further west. So it was that Lake Squaw became something of a bustling frontier town, with little money to be made unless you owned any of the local businesses. Founded in 1883, the town had grown, with a population of 300 by 1900. Unbeknownst to most of their seasonal inhabitants, the town even by the turn of the century had garnered a reputation for manifesting strange occurances.

Old Ian Kelly, had arrived at Lake Squaw in 1887. Considered an eccentric by his neighbors, he established his hotel and saloon the same year. As the only private enterprise in the town, it was embraced by the local inhabitants who had struggled at the desert oasis. There was no mine or any farmable land, the population had survived by fishing the lake and selling wares to train passengers. He was described by the last surviving inhabitant of the town in 1927 as handsome and charismatic. Who could exhibit incredible kindness but also horrific cruelty. Ruthless in business, he reportedly had a rival saloon's owner murdered by the outlaw Jake Redding who was in turned murdered to keep his mouth shot by Old Kelly himself.

In 1895, a renown gunslinger, Robert S. Hamilton fell in love with a local prostitute owned by Ian Kelly. When he attempted to buy his love from Kelly, he was told to get out of town by sun fall. The rumors being that Kelly was in love with the same women, Mary Hester. R.S. Hamilton lost in the haze of love challenged Kelly to a duel on what is now Ian Kelly Street. Both men were skilled with a gun, but it was expected that Hamilton would kill Ian Kelly in the street. On Friday afternoon, July 5th, 1895, the two men squared off with hundreds of onlookers. The town's sheriff in the pocket of Ian Kelly would fire his pistol to initiate the duel. Hamilton did not know that the deputy sheriff had a rifle aimed at his back from the water tower.

The death of R.S. Hamilton broke the heart of Mary Hester who avenged her love's death by feigning affection toward Ian Kelly and in a moment of opportunity murdering him with the same pistol used to kill Hamilton. She then aimed the pistol at her heart and blew chunks of it out of her back. The death of Ian Kelly saw "Old Kelly's Hotel and Saloon" change ownership to Benjamin Rubenstein a Jew from New York City who transformed reformed Old Kelly's as Lake Squaw entered the 20th Century. Since the events known in Wild West lore as the "Mary Hester's Revenge", patrons of Old Kelly's began reporting strange happenings.

On the first anniversary of the killings, in 1896, a couple heading to Los Angeles, saw what they described as a female dressed in a loose hanging dress walking the halls at the same time of R.S. Hamilton's death from 4:30 PM to 5:12 PM. At 5:12 PM the clock in the room froze there and its arms would return back to that time when moved. The couple was then awakened by violent banging along their walls inside their room. Which frightened enough to find sleep at the train station. Their room was the same one that Mary Hester had lived in during her time in Ian Kelly's employ. Year after year the same complaints came from those staying in Room 14 on the anniversary of Mary Hester's death. Until finally, after learning of the past attached to the room, did not rent the room on that day until his own death in 1931.

Lake Squaw however seemed to attract tragedy. In 1903, an aging outlaw, returned to the town to retrieve thousands of dollars worth of bonds stolen from train passengers in 1889. Joe "Lighting" Prescott planned to escape to Mexico to live out his days in retirement. What he didn't plan on was his partner, a young confused teenager he had taken on in Arizona murdering him without aim or provocation. He proceeded to rip apart the corpse with his knife, consume Prescott's heart and then wander into town bloody and in a daze. When the sheriff found the remains, he arrested the young boy whose name was recorded as Willie Green. The boy was hanged in Lake Squaw in 1890. Since his hanging, sightings of an apparition of a teenage boy resembling Willie Green occurred walking the streets which were now surrounded by corner stores, a church, Old Kelly's and other buildings. Numerous deaths have been left unresolved in the nearby streets of the alley way where Lightning Joe's corpse was discovered.

In 1926, the construction of Route 66 brought an economic boom to the town. The railroad was still operational and hundreds flowed into the town, mostly travelers an tourists. Lake Squaw had always been a rest stop on the way to bigger places that had more to offer. Businesses accommodating the influx of travelers sprung up, at the height of the tourism boom, there were five hotels, three saloons, and dozens of small businesses selling trinkets, hiking equipment, and assorted goods. Amherst Crator which actually towered over the town, to the north of the town, like a mountain was known for its unique geology. Scientists now came to the small railroad station to study the ecosystem and geology of the area. The population swelled to 1,500 by 1929.

It was during the 1920s that the town became a summer resort for the wealthy. Lake Squaw was named number three in a list of beautiful lakes in California which saw the economy soar. There were quite a few houses along the lakefront from the 1880s but new money came in and built more of them. In the summers, nearly two thousand additional inhabitants came from across the southwest and beyond to vacation with their families. Lavish, decadent parties were thrown on lake boats and at the mansions near the shore. Leading to yet another tragic moment in the town's history. The Matthews Family, whose patriarch, George Erickson Matthews was heavily invested in the stock market was found murdered at their home. George Matthews was found dead from a self inflicted gunshot wound with a letter in his front pocket. Revealing that he had lost everything in the Crash of 29 and could not bare informing his family that they were impoverished.

The Crash of 29, ended the parties and decadence of the summer months. Lake Squaw remained a popular destination but the visitors who came in the 30s and beyond were calmer. Reports of hauntings continued at Old Kelly's and the so called "Cannibal's Alley". Generations were born, lived, and died in the small town. All with their own baggage but for those who had lived through the decades, the old timers sitting on the porches of their house enjoying their twilight years remember the old stories as told by their parents or grandparents. The population continue to grow as a US Army base was established to the north of the lake for artillery training in 1941. World War Two saw thousands of servicemen in training near Lake Squaw. What little industry the place had was dedicated to the war effort. Trains from back east brought in waves of soldiers preparing to go fight in the Pacific Theatre.

During the war years, the town struggled to house all the excess soldiers and so all rooms were made available, including Room 14 at Old Kelly's. Ben Rubenstein had perished in 1931 and his loyal son, Max, had taken over the business. He had been told the story of Mary Hester by his father and others in town but he thought little of them. On the anniversary of the Mary Hester's death, he had rented Room 14 to the military and a young artilleryman was housed there that night. Little is known about what happened because the man, Lewis Baldwin was found mutilated in the bathtub. Investigations by military and local police turned up nothing. Max Rubenstein and everybody else had alibis and the case remained cold and was eventually abandoned.

Other soldiers who frequented so called Cannibal Alley, officially named Bruce Street which had become a red light district during the war reported strange happenings. Prostitutes and others who worked and lived on the street had also reported strange events in their time there. There were a total of nine murders there from 1904 to 1945, all middle aged men. It was assumed in the bustle of the war years that they had been murdered by pimps or muggers. None of them were ever solved. So it went until the end of the war. In 1945, the town depopulated though Fort Willard remained on the north side of the lake. The town became quieter, investors in the post-war economic boom bought up the lakeside houses and made sure that in the summer, they were being rented or owned.

Through the 1950s, into the 60s, the town became idyllic Americana in its feeling. Subdivisions were built for the veterans returning home. They had families and their children became the Baby Boomers. Televisions were bought and installed into homes. Teenagers fawned over Elvis and then The Beatles. Lake Squaw's population remained steady at 2,500 until summer when it grew to over 3,000. There were several more experiences in the aforementioned locations but the new corporate owners swept everything under the rug. Though, the Matthews Mansion had to be closed up because of another family massacre by John Carter in 1958. But the stories were often dismissed as "ghost stories" by country simpletons or as something to excite people about the town's history.

Lake Squaw, known by experts of old west history as a minor piece in America's conquest of the western territories. Known by the upper middle class as an enchanting vacationing locale. Even the locals of the town, midst the disturbances of the 1960s, have mostly forgotten the tragic and strange history of the town. To the youth, they are just silly ghost stories that every small town has. Lake Squaw by the late 60s is just another American small town with limited contact with the counterculture raising families, working in the armaments factory, in the service industry. Approaching Lake Squaw one comes over that last hill, along Route 66, and their eyes fall upon the lake glistening in the desert sun. A true oasis, where for some had become a annual tradition. If only they knew what awaited them in July of 1968.
​

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Character Sheets

Henry Terrence Lewis (age 38)(Tristenxh)

Spoiler

Health: 5/5
Psyche: 10/10
Combat: 3/5
Action Points: 25/50
Items/Abilities: M1 Garand (against humans and animals a die roll will determine a temporary Combat boost, not very effective against the supernatural)

Kenneth Loudbear (age 23)(Noco)

Spoiler

Health: 5/5
Psyche: 9/10 (Alcoholic, permanent -1 penalty on Psyche)
Combat: 4/5
Action Points: 30/50
Items/Abilities: Ancestral Tomahawk (unknown modifiers)

Tommy "Arri" Arri-Wa-Wa (age 25) (BlackBishop)

Spoiler

Health: 5/5
Psyche: 6/10 (Fiery Temperament, random die roll to "lose temper", -3 psyche temporarily, +2 combat)
Combat: 2/5
Action Points: 50/50
Items/Abilities: Peyote Stash (psychedelic experience may allow you to communicate with supernatural forces and gain useful knowledge), Volkswagen Type 2 (+10 AP permanently)

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Events and Records
Prologue
I. The Blind Approach the Edge (I-II, III…)
II.
III….

Map of Lake Squaw

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Sign Ups now Open!

 

[Tristanxh]

Name: Henry Terrence Lewis
Age: 38
Biography: Having served in the U.S. Navy during the '50s, Francis gained an honorable discharge from service and his G.I. Bill. The VA managed to get him a home in Lake Squaw where he's lived for the past decade. He's stayed single and generally prefers to consider those in company to be friendly rather than formal or romantic, thus it's worked out well for him so far.

 

[Noco19]

Name: Kenneth Loudbear
Age: 23
Short Biography: His ancestors were among the early settlers of Lake Squaw, Chemehuevi native Americans who worked as trappers and guides, and eventually even soldiers during the Second World War, assimilating into White society through inter-marriage and assimilation. Kenneth Loudbear is the youngest scion of his family, working as a wilderness guide for adventurous tourists while supplementing his income by selling knick-knacks and arrowheads as a gimmick.

 

[Arrowfiend]

Looks like a really cool game, but sadly I can't join right now. If I'm the only one with his opinion then feel free to ignore me, but I think you should delay starting the game. There are already a ton of games going on and right now is prime testing/exam time. I myself am already committed to several games, and my testing begins next week. I'd like to join the game, but I wouldn't be able to until after all testing is done in 3 weeks. Again, just some food for thought, so feel free to ignore me if lots of people want to start.

 

[Kaisersohaib]

Reserved.

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Looks like a really cool game, but sadly I can't join right now. If I'm the only one with his opinion then feel free to ignore me, but I think you should delay starting the game. There are already a ton of games going on and right now is prime testing/exam time. I myself am already committed to several games, and my testing begins next week. I'd like to join the game, but I wouldn't be able to until after all testing is done in 3 weeks. Again, just some food for thought, so feel free to ignore me if lots of people want to start.

I'll keep it going with whoever wants to play, at least 3 others. So you might be able to join us in the future.

Noco and Tristen are approved, character stats up.

 

[BlackBishop]

Tommy "Arri" Arri-Wa-Wa
Born: 1943

Tommy, or Arri as he prefers to go by, is a fiery youth with a deep seeded resentment toward the government and the role they played regarding the plight of his native tribe, the Chemehuevi, most now resigned to life on the reservation north of the army base. Harboring resentment toward the establishment and his Americanized parents, Arri is a known scrapper and a popular figure within the counter culture of the town's youth.

The son of a career soldier and a nurse, Arri has become embroiled in conflict with his parents, and though records indicate he lives at home, in truth he lives with friends, moving from couch to couch, and many quiet spots he chooses to park his van. Arri is passionate in his views and well liked by the hippies of Lake Squaw, though a hot temper often lands the young man into trouble more often then not.​

 

[EmperorGrimm]

(Episode One will be up today)

 

[BlackBishop]

(Episode One will be up today)

((Pumped. Love my stats, btw - How did you know I planned to incorporate peyote in my ic ))

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Episode One - The Blind Approach the Edge

Part I

Festivities, planned by Lake Squaw's public officials were underway at Harrison Park. In total the park was expected to have nearly two thousand people picnicking on the grounds, waiting for the fireworks display in the evening. Families from the lakefront had the more expensive setups naturally (with the exception of Sam Zioty, Larry Rubenstein, and those locals living on Barlow Hills who were more ambitious) while most of the crowd rested on blankets. A dancehall band on the banquet deck played soft wallpapered tunes. Children were running freely, being stopped every so often by people their parents knew. It was a congregation of the "silent majority", middle class America enjoying the hot July 4th day. Native Americans from the reservation were selling their crafts and wares, so was Sam Zioty and his two sons who worked a tent where they cooked his famous barbecue. It was a day of perfect small town harmony, something not altogether honest, but not altogether superficial either. Tom Rhodes, the principal of Lake Squaw High School, a highly respected man who survived Normandy and was wounded in the Ardenne, raced northward into the desert.

In his truck, there were three gallons of water next to packed sandwiches. A pistol laid in his lap, cradled by nervous hands. His destination had come to him three weeks ago, in a dream. A dark cavern that opened up like a snake swallowing rodents. He approached the cave without fear and slid down the entrance which resembled a rocky, dry throat. Sliding off the edge of the bottom, he found himself without light. Alone and vulnerable, he sat still, awaiting the meaning of his presence. Before him appeared a lizard's tongue that softly wrapped itself around his body. It communicated with him without language or solid images. When he awoke in his bed, next to his wife Martha, he knew absolutely what he was to do. Despite his tussling, she had not woken, they were both used to waking up to Tom Rhodes having a nightmare about the war. He slipped out his coverings and grabbed the keys to the truck. Although nobody would know of this moment except Tommy Rhodes, but before he left he kissed his wife and children for the last time and he weeped for what he must do.

The Amherst Crator towered over the horizon, if somehow you could explode a nuclear device and then while it was exploding cast a mold of it all with sand, clay, and stone, you would get Amherst. Heatwaves vibrated the air and they grew wider and longer. He had been on the road for nearly five hours when he arrived at the national park station. There was almost nobody there due to the holiday, two security guards manned the gate. He knew the place from his time as a teacher, bringing hundreds of students there on field trips. As he approached he knew. His foot stomped on the gas pedal and the car swerved into a straight course toward the guards. When they realize the car was going to smash them, one jumped onto the gate to climb over. The other too surprised to react was struck directly, smattering his intestines like a lasso around the barbwired fence. Climbing over the gate, the last guard fell onto the other side before sprinting away. Tommy Rhodes reversed the truck which smoldered like a city being sacked. Without much aiming time he pushed down the gas and crashed through the gate and swerved to the left. Gaining control, he drove along the crater looking for the lizard.

Suddenly the truck's engine died and he halted seemingly in the middle of nowhere, on the opposite side of the tour routes. He felt a vague nausea, the world stretched inward and outward. Strangely, a hard cold wind blew through his window from outside. At once he knew the path. The engine restarted by itself and he pressed onward to a series of caves. By this time security and the police had been alerted. When he approached the gate five guards holding rifles readied themselves in front. They meant to kill the driver before he could get closer. Rhodes pressed the gas and with a mechanical roar sped toward the gate. Bullets pierced his left shoulder, grazed his neck, others missed. The car sent the guards leaping away, two were not so lucky. The steering wheel was covered in blood but he was not mortally wounded. After a five minute drive he found himself at the cave in his dreams. The engine died again, this time for good.

"Follloooow the liight." whispered his master, humanoid lizards appeared ahead of him, motioning to follow them.

Part II

Black clouds were sighted in the direction of Amherst Crater at around one in the after. Since they seemed so far away, most of the sightings went unreported. A Jess Stewart, in Barlow Hills was the first to call the weather department about strange clouds full of lightning on the horizon. During the phone call, she described it as if describing a volcano. Miss Stewart was a weather reporter from Bakersfield who had been invited to Lake Squaw by a real estate broker, Alan Kubrick. This was roughly 43 minutes after the storm's appearance. At Harrison Park, the town was buzzing from alcohol and the collective energy of the crowd. Sam Ziotty held court at his deluxe camping tent which could fit a dozen people inside. Two dozen more congregated outside where his cook who he was paying overtime was preparing Tex-Mex food. He sat in a reclining chair with his wife sipping from Italian wine. They both wore sunglasses and dressed as if on the beach. Sam Ziotty was a newcomer to Lake Squaw, he was a New Jersey lawyer who had retired young and had invested in three lakefront mansions that he rented out. His own home was in Barlow Hills.

The rumors going around town were true, Ziotty and Rubenstein were planning the transformation of the town, they sought to buy out the locals of the town with the support of a real estate corporation from Los Angeles. The armaments factory would be torn down, the lakefront houses would be rented out to even wealthier vacationers. All the small businesses and mom and pops in town would be replaced with world class establishments. They saw it as the Aspen of California that meant a lot of money to those able to make it happen. Nobody knew about it, not even the mayor who was what Ziotty dismissed as a "do gooder" in his notoriously derisive tone. Rubenstein, for his part was indifferent except that he was promised that his family's business at Old Kelly's Saloon and Hotel would remain in their hands. Larry Rubenstein though did not share the business acumen of his grandfather and father. Too young to serve in Korea, he missed out on that war and spent his youth at Oakland City College spending away his father's money rather than receiving an education. After spending his youth partying in Hollywood and attempting to establish an acting career to the chagrin of his family, he returned home broke and the new owner of Old Kelly's. In truth he desperately needed the business to pay his bills, Ziotty at an easy time convincing him of the plan.

Both men were in the crowd at Ziotty's tent. So was 19 year old Jose Hernandez, the son of an migrant worker from Mexico. Known locally as a dope fiend hippie who supposively lived out in the hippie caves to the west, close to the Indian Reservation. He had made his way to the party of Barlow Hillsians, with a large knife stuck under his shirt. His eyes were moving but were empty, sweat poured out of him, soaking his shirt. The teenager was adorned with hand made jewelry, his leather vest was black like the clouds over Amherst Crater. Born in Mexico, his parents brought him over the border to work in the fields of the Salinas Valley but never made it after finding work at Lake Squaw's armaments factory during the Korean War. His mother worked as a housecleaner at the lakefront until her untimely death in 1962. Her corpse was never found and the case was all but abandoned by the authorities after three years. In his heart, the sirens of revenge sang over what rationality he had left, she would have been at work that day of his mother's death. She had been a long time housekeeper for Larry Rubenstein and the last she was seen was at his mansion dusting off rugs in his backyard. It was clear to the young, confused boy that Rubenstein knew where his mother was despite the fact that he was seen by over five witnesses downtown the entire day.

He came upon Rubenstein, the moment for blood vengeance had arrived. Strange whispers clouded his thinking until from the cacophony one clear directive was given. "Now, Jose, get your revenge!"

(Part III coming later today. You can go ahead and introduce your characters but as of this post, nobody knows that the above 2 events have occurred yet.)

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Episode One - The Blind Approach the Edge

Part III

The gash in the side of Larry Rubenstein weeped blood. At the tent, screams rang out causing a scene on the little hill they were camped on. Jose Hernandez was pulled away by a group of men, still slashing away. He chanted something intelligible, "Ahhhhwuuush ahhhhhwuuuush." One man cut it short by punching him unconscious. Rubenstein laid on the ground staring past his wife and friend, to something his eyes didn't seem to comprehend. Though if he had lived, he would have described the image as Mary Hester, the spirit that haunted Room 66. When he returned home after his father's death he knew the stories of the room but he was not squeamish and was dismissive of "silly" ideas like ghosts. An elitist who saw his staff as country bumpkin types (he was not completely inaccurate but there were many brilliant characters in Lake Squaw), he found having his office so readily available to him in the lobby unsavory. He decided then to make Room 66 his new office. Maybe, he thought, the stories would keep the "morons" away.

Mary Hester, what paranormal experts categorize as a "post traumatic spirit", relatively weak compared to other types and attached to a very limited material space, usually attempts to terrorize but on occasional are murderous.

He spent nine months in the room without issue but on the anniversary of Mary Hester's death (a date he did not remember from his father's stories), he sat at his desk with a glass of scotch, lit a cigarette, and went to work consolidating old financial records for the bank. The afternoon faded into the evening when the doors began to move by themselves. Rubenstein assuming it was the wind from the window ignored the activity. Too focused on the work at hand he did not allow himself to realize that the day had been notably stagnant. Minutes later, he was not so dismissive. A deep hollow knock came from behind him. Jumping out of his chair he at first though it may be a couple next door fucking on a shoddy bed. But it had only happened once, he settled back into his chair when another knock seemingly struck on the opposite wall. This time he remember the stories, nervously he pulled out the drawer that had the pistol. The window closed hard and the bathroom door began to open and close rapidly. "Somebody, help me! Get me out of here!" Remembering that there was a door to his office, he sprinted to it but could not turn the knob.

Behind him, the voice of a female, shouted painfully, angrily. "GET OUT." The knob finally turned free.

After that night, he began to see the various spirits of Old Kellys. This he had kept secret from everyone, even his wife. Dead outlaws, prostitutes, other forms of darkness. He hadn't slept well in months. What he saw as he bled out from his gaping torso, was Ian Kelly himself. The spirit of Ian Kelly had been sighted before but out of all the spirits, he was the rarest. Also he had been seen through the town, unattached to the hotel itself. His square jaw underlined a big Irish face covered by red hair. On his belt were two Colts and a bowie knife. His skull was broken by bullet wounds, his left eye fell into a fleshy cavern. He stood watching as the young boy was beaten and Rubenstein died. His death formed part of something greater indeed and everything was moving forward according to plan. As Rubenstein took his last breathes, Ian Kelly walked off, fading until he was gone.

 

[EmperorGrimm]

Episode One - The Blind Approach the Edge

Part IV

News of the stabbing caught on like a virus through the crowd at Harrison Park of the murder. It also began to seep into downtown as nervous people relayed the events that had occurred in the last hour. At this moment, it would have still been possible to escape from Lake Squaw, the mass of kinetic energy billowing from Amherst Crater was still hovering in the sky, gathering more power every minute. The summer day was still bright and hot, many of the children were complaining that they wouldn't be able to see the fireworks that night. For their parents, it was a job to remain calm and get home safely. Lake Squaw wasn't perfect but nobody had been murdered in town since a decade ago. At least thats what the common people of the town believed. They didn't have any reason not to believe the police department's statistics. That crime had gone down by 40% in the last decade not that it was a town full of crime then either. Rumors began to fly around, infecting people with false memories, delusional accusations, but at this moment the people of this small town in the Mojave Desert were cordial and were more concerned about making new plans for gatherings at their houses. Many had their own fireworks.

After two hours, the town was still busy, the people whose cars had been blocked by the congestion were now leaving out. Driving over red white and blue decorations. Louise Elliot, the wife of Bert Elliot, a bus driver who transported people to the various attractions in and around town waited for her husband at the grocery store. A bit of emergency shopping for a party of neighbors for the evening. In the backseat was her three children, one of whom, Julie, asked her mother, "Do you think it was those Manson people?", her tone carried the new found feeling of independence and maturity that seventeen year olds have when in the process of self actualization. "I don't think they would come all the way out to Lake Squaw from San Fran, there's plenty of folks out in San Fran and Los Angeles for that."

As mother and daughter exchanged theories, a police officer, John Harkes, came through in his squad car. He pulled next to the Elliot station wagon and asked if her husband was inside. "Johnny, whats this all about?" Ms Elliot asked. Harkes motioned for her to come closer, away from the ears of her children. "There's been some kind of an attack at Amherst Crater. It happened about three hours ago."
"Oh dear!" Ms Elliot said
"But that isn't the only thing, there's some kind of storm gathering steam over the crater. We haven't been able to get in touch with anybody else at the national park. We're wanting to know if Bert knows anything."

Bert Elliot left the chilly interior of the grocery store and came to the car with bags of meats, baked beans, and a bottle of white wine. "Is everything ok Johnny?" He came closer to his wife and Harkes after putting down his groceries in the truck. His wife explained about the situation at Amherst Crater and Bert was noticeably surprised. He said, "No, I don't know anybody who could have done such a thing. Are you all sending officers over there?"

"We have two squad cars there now. They're waiting for back up from Needles and Bakersfield. But if you don't know anything then there's nothing more I can do here." he paused for a moment, adding gravity to what he said next, "Listen, keep everybody close tonight, I just have this hunch that something is wrong."

Louise Elliot responded, "You don't think more people are going to die today, do you?"

Part V

As the day marched deeper into afternoon, the lakefront mansions were busy celebrating. Many of them being city people were not as affected by Larry Rubenstein's murder, they assumed that some crazy local had finally snapped. As for rumors that there were nearly a dozen security guards dead at Amherst Crater, by time they heard them, the alcohol had eaten away any cares. At Barlow Hills, people watched the storm over the crater, it had doubled in size since it was first reported in the late morning. The police department, fire department, and the mayor had been alerted and were now at work, discussing the day's events. Publicly they were telling everyone that there was a standoff and that they were waiting for a negotiation team from Needles to arrive. The truth was much more sinister. It was 9:56 AM when a security guard, called in frantically about a man rampaging around Amherst National Park. He described the assailant and they all knew that it was Tom Rhodes, the principal of the high school. None of them could imagine the Tommy Rhodes murdering anybody. Something else the guard mentioned was that they had wounded him with 10 or more rounds but he seemed to have resisted their damage. They only had two squad cars at the location, both waiting outside the gate taking shifts watching over the entrance. There was no negotiation team coming because the police department was receiving instructions by Mayor Reid Elgin to keep it all quiet. A murder spree was bad for tourism.

The officers posted at Amherst had not been able to broadcast to the station in over half an hour. Hard torrents of wind pushed them around so much that they retreated back to their cars. Minutes later, the squad cars were rocking back and forth. As dust, rock, and debris assaulted their motorized shield, a panic occurred and both vehicles abandoned their positions and raced backward out onto the road leading back to town. Once they escaped the winds and earth, they were able to tell headquarters they were returning to town. Tom Rhodes was as good as dead if he was not in some kind of shelter. It would take them an hour to drive back. The murders fell by the waist side, the issue now was the coming storm. The weather department out in Barstow said that nothing was happening at the crater from their end. Mayor Elgin, dismissed them as idiots, he could plainly see a storm forming over the crater. But the meteorologists, bored of whatever game this was, disconnected the call.

(It is 3:20 PM in the afternoon, Lake Squaw's people have mostly returned home and are in the full swing of spur of the moment parties. Time has created distance from the events of the day, long enough for explanations to take the edge off of it all. You may introduce your characters and begin submitting orders which cost Action Points. Movement to a different section of town (as per the map) requires 10 AP per movement. Moving between "locales" requires 20 AP. The Orders guidelines are in the first page of the thread. All the characters know about the murder of Larry Rubenstein and the "attack" at Amherst but are mostly ignorant of the details. Anything to do with the supernatural is also not known.)

 

[Deleted user]

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[EmperorGrimm]

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