Romero

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"What lay behind our joint love of shadows and marvels was, no doubt, the ancient, mouldering, and subtly fearsome town in which we live – witch-cursed, legend-haunted Arkham, whose huddled, sagging gambrel roofs and crumbling Georgian balustrades brood out the centuries beside the darkly muttering Miskatonic." - H. P. Lovecraft

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Premise

Avery Wildes is old money. It is said that her ancestor was one of the first to set foot in the place that would become Arkham, and her families history has been intertwined with the city ever since. Her family has always been close to the beating heart of the city, and Avery is no exception. The balls and parties hosted at Wilde Hall are near-legendary, and by brushing shoulders with the rich and powerful of Arkham, Avery has ensured that her family will not fade into obscurity. Her husband's recent sudden death has done nothing to dampen these gatherings, in fact they seem only to have spurred the hostess onwards.

You have heard of these parties, perhaps you have even crossed paths with the Wildes family, but you were still not expecting to find an invitation arriving at your door. Somehow, you have caught Avery's attention, and as the night of the gathering approaches, you find your attention turning towards who else might have received these mysterious invitations. The only information you have received is a date, a time of arrival, and an instruction that this particular event will be a masquerade ball, and that your title for the evening has already been chosen for you. But you know there is more to it than that. Invitation or not, there is something you need in Wilde Hall, something that is calling to you, haunting your very dreams...

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Overview

Setting: Lovecraft's Arkham, and the surrounding area
Time Frame: 1920's Prohibition-era America
RP Tags: Historical, High Casual, Advanced, Large Group, Eldritch Horror, Mystery, Tabletop
Characters: Journalists, students, professors, detectives, criminals, socialites, private investigators
Themes: A period mystery drama, with a heavy dose of Lovecraftian horror. Your character will have their own personal motivations for attending the Wilde Hall ball, as well as goals as a group with your fellow PC's.
Style: I'm looking for three or four paragraphs per post as a minimum. I'm not too fussed if this ends up in the Casual or Advanced sections, but I'll still be expecting regular and engaging posts.

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Thank you to everyone that's taken the time to read this far! This is an Interest Check for an idea I've been playing with for a while. This RP will be drawing inspiration from the roleplaying system Call of Cthulhu, as well as from the Lovecraftian mythos as a whole, but with my own spin on things. Expect mystery, suspense, and horror that is terrifying to behold! I've tried not to overload with information, so consider this a taster. If you have any more questions, please do ask away, and I'll do my best to provide some answers! Looking forward to hearing from you all.

The Blackwood

Sorry to see that this is coming to an end. I really enjoyed my stint as Cillian (and the gradual pace worked nicely for how much free time I have had recently), but you've got to look after yourself first, and if the spark isn't there, then the spark isn't there. Best wishes, and give yourself plenty of time to grieve, but I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your next project.

The Blackwood

For a moment, Cillian held his breath. His offer seemed to hang in the air, fragile, and as the unusual pair glanced at each other, he did not know which way their decision would fall. He had spent much of his life rubbing shoulders with strangers, and he had always found an ease in forming brief, fleeting moments of companionship, but even so, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Not for the first time, it was the small frame of Calvin that came to the wandering bards aid. Cillian's face broke into a wide grin as he watched the elf-maidens shoulders shrug. For the next brief moment at least, Cillian would have company, and most importantly, a potential audience.

As Saskia called for a drink, Cillian followed her lead, signalling not only a mead for himself, but also three hot meals. Calvin had made it clear that he wouldn't turn down some food, and if the elf wasn't hungry, then Cillian's growling stomach would certainly be willing to pick up the slack. He listened intently as the pair continued to bicker, his face not showing any sign of the thoughts whirling through his mind. The clear dislike of the Blackwood in Saskia's voice may go some way to crushing his initial ideas of creating an unusual travelling party, but that same bile in her words suggested that he was right when he suspected that she knew more about what lurked in the shadows than she might have already told him.

The sun was dipping towards the horizon as they continued to talk, but Cillian had already conceded himself to the fact that his long dreamed about voyage into the calling darkness would have to wait at least until dawn. If he had to spend an evening in this strange city, then he could think of worse places than in a bustling tavern! A lull in the conversation alerted the bard to the fact that his input was required, and the thread tugged him back to the moment. Two expectant faces were looking at him from across the table, but Cillian's smile did not falter. A lifetime of a wandering mind had instilled in Cillian the ability to have his ears act almost independently, and it took only a moment for the thread to remind him of the question that had been levelled at him. Cillian's relaxed smile broke into a wide grin, and he felt the fire in his heart begin to burn brighter again. The tavern was beginning to fill as the evening drew in, and Cillian was careful to raise his voice a little, both to be heard above the bustling noise, but also with the intention that if there was curious ears nearby, they would be able to hear his words.

"Why am I drawn to the Blackwood? For the same reason that the baby bird leaps from it's nest. It is in my blood. All of my life, I knew that my path would lead me here, that I would travel across the river and into the heart of darkness itself. Will I go in alone? I admit, I do not yet know. The Blackwood has haunted my dreams, it's call like that of a siren, but those dreams only show my path, they do not show whether I walk alone, or with other's at my side. Perhaps before this night is out I will have a companion, perhaps there are comrades waiting for me across the river, or perhaps I am destined to travel into the darkness alone. For now though, I am happy to eat, drink and be merry, for only the gods know what the new day will bring!"

A tankard of mead had arrived at Cillian's elbow, and he was quick to grab it, raising it across the table towards the unlikely pair. His smile was wide and warm, his eyes flashing in the firelight that lit the tavern.

"To your good health, friends, and to being merry!"

A Watchful Eye

Pay careful attention to the reactions of Saskia and Calvin, as well as the rest of the tavern, at his mention of companions, to see if he can gauge any interested parties (Perception) = 4 + 1 = 5

The Blackwood

@POOHEAD189 Cillian is still present, and thirsty for adventure!

The Blackwood

Romero, you roll in almost every post and I want to say I appreciate you

@POOHEAD189

My pleasure. If nothing else, it gives me something to react to when I inevitably fluff an easy roll!

The Blackwood

Cillian could barely hear the elf over the roaring in his ears. He had heard the stories about the Blackwood, huddled around distant campfires or above the merriment of a dozen different taverns, but they still lit the fire within himself. Lost souls, fey spirits, an orc horde, demonic cults, if even half of the things that the elf was saying were true, then Cillian would find enough adventure to write a hundred songs. He had always known that his path would lead him into the darkness of the Blackwood, but even as the fire blazed into an inferno, he caught himself. When he was a younger man, he had been hot-headed, impetuous, too quick to throw himself into the jaws of danger just to feel the rush of adrenaline, just to feel alive, but he was older now, and he had not made it this far without cooling off a little. Wiser? Perhaps not, but he had enough scars across his body to have learnt a few lessons. His first instinct was still to leap at the opportunity, and the elf's words were more than enough to make Cillian want to plunge into the very heart of the Blackwood, but age, and experience, had given Cillian enough of a second instinct to stop and think.

The spell seemed to break, and the hunger pains in Cillian's stomach suddenly came to life again, almost making him wince. Even the drink the elf's hand was enough to make his mouth dry. The Blackwood had been calling to Cillian for as long as he could remember, he was sure that he could ignore the voice for at least another night. Letting the easy smile on his face remain unflinching, Cillian nodded his thanks towards the elf.

"You have been more than helpful, friend, thank you. I hope I am not imposing too greatly if I offer to buy you both a drink for your time. Something hot to eat perhaps?"

Cillian was a stranger in a strange town, and the unusual pair across the table were the closest thing to friends that he had. If nothing else, they seemed as if they would be good company while he filled his belly and satisfied his thirst, and if he was to head across the river and into the depths of the forest, then this elf maiden, this 'Saskia' was the closest thing to a guide that he had found. If he could tease some more information out of her for the price of another flagon? Then he would consider the day a success.

Anyone for a Drink?

Attempt to convince the pair to stay awhile and share a drink (Charm) = 5 + 2 = 7

The Blackwood

so I can let you know if you got a special ability or not.

@POOHEAD189

Special abilities you say? Colour me intrigued, and I'll get on it this afternoon!

The Blackwood

Thank you! I will be sure to use this power responsibly (and not just pour it into Singing to give Cillian the voice of an angel). Should I just edit the new figures into my Character Sheet?

The Blackwood

Cillian's chest was still heaving as he caught his breath, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He could feel the eyes of the room upon him, and he felt almost overwhelmingly alive. He was in his element, a player on a stage, the ever-present flame whipped into an inferno. His intended audience seemed a little stunned by his performance at first, until the elf spoke, her voice seeming to finally break the spell that had descended over the tavern. He listened to the two talk for a moment, relieved to hear that his hunch wasn't entirely unfounded, before his eyes were drawn to the outstretched hand of the elf maiden. His brief visit to the city of Greybridge had already proven to be an expensive one, but the bard was no stranger to the concept of money greasing the wheels of information. Perhaps her knowledge was indeed scant, perhaps she was even lying to him, attempting to swindle a newcomer to the city, but something in her eyes spoke to Cillian.

The two of them shared a trade, even if they practised their craft in different ways. It was information that Cillian wove into his tales, stitched into his songs, and he saw a glimpse of a kindred spirit in the elf. Cillian could tell grand legends of lands that he had never set foot in, recount the myths of people long dead, if this 'Saskia' traded in information, then it was not only her own experiences that she could share with Cillian, it was the experiences of every other soul that has pressed a coin into her outstretched palm. With practiced ease, Cillian reached into his coin purse, and pulled free a silver Lordling. He toyed with it in his hand for a moment, letting it run between his fingers, before taking another step closer to the unusual pair and dropping it into the outstretched hand of the elf.

"I hope that this will serve to sharpen your mind, friend. I look forward to hearing your tale."

The Blackwood

I've got a few deadlines to get through this week, but I should be able to get a post up for Cillian this weekend.