28th session
Session 28
Reviewing the Situation
I did a quick recap of the previous session as folks settled in, some kind of subway mess delaying things a bit. Then, I gave folks various letters or telegrams that would somehow have arrived.
- Janet Winston-Roger's Telegram to Delhi and Responses
- Samson Trammel's 7th Letter to Martin and Responses
- Virginia Henslowe's 2nd Letter to Joyce
- Dr. Cecil Walker's 3rd Letter to Lillian
Joyce's player: Deserve ain't got nothing to do with it. --Joyce's spiritual father, Clint Eastwood.
Joyce: I've got a lot of time on my hands.
Martin: No, you don't. The world's ending!
I am not sure what the context of the above was.
I think the next bit had to do with Joyce deciding she'd kept her promise to Samson Trammel and that he really did deserve to be killed.
Martin: Deserve hasn't got anything to do with it.
Joyce: In this case, it does. (pause) Nah, you're right. Deserve doesn't have anything to do with it. It just needs to be done.
Somewhere in here, Vito's player arrived, and I gave him the letter from his mistress. He crumbled, then shredded it, something probably harder for the character than the player, given the character's hook hand.
Folks took stock of the situation: Following their actions, the world was ending. Lighting was roiling in non-stop storms all over the world. Ash was falling.
I forget the context of this:
Joyce: Dare I say it: Non-Euclidean.
Vito: It is epistimologically impossible for me to be any more terrified than I already am.
Meanwhile, he introduced Amelia Burroughs, aka Amelia of Carcosa.
Lillian: Delighted to meet you, Miss Burroughs. I've heard so much about you.
Amelia: Um... I'm sorry.
At one point, Vito asked Amelia how long she'd been in Carcosa, as he knew time passed differently there.
Amelia: An eternity.
He started to ask about what the King in Yellow had done to her, but stopped himself, saying that she didn't have to answer.
Joyce and Lillian both answered Janet Winston-Rogers's telegram, doing a reasonable job, I thought, of assuring her that a) they were going to fix things and had at least some chance of success and b) that she was not to blame. I'd pondered whether she'd commit suicide, but figured that, given those answers, she'd probably hang in there. Also, at this point, she was a fairly minor footnote, and her death would, I think, have been gratuitous, not meaningful.
Martin answered Samson, and there was a brief conversation via telegrams (at least, I assume that's probably the only thing that could reach where he was at any point before folks returned to the USA).
Vito spoke to Martin, I think trying to comfort him, but I'm not entirely sure.
Vito: Marty, you do understand we were played?
Martin: Yeah.
Vito: Played very hard. Not just you.
Martin: I understand.
Vito: He played us like a pair of bongo drums.
Martin: You were right about the King in Yellow.
Some time later:
Martin's Player: Martin is drinking water.
Lillian: Oh hell.
Meanwhile, both he and Lillian tried to set Amelia at ease, each in their own way.
Lillian: Miss Burroughs, I feel we're in the same profession -- making Vito afraid of small women.
And Martin passed her a note.
During all of this time, I'd been sending information around to folks. For instance, I'd compiled reminders of what folks knew and had said they'd felt about Edgar Job. I'd compiled a sheet summarizing the time traveling observatory they'd entered in the Yucatan when speaking to Gol-Goroth. Two major points were in there:
1. The view of Chichen Xoxul that Vito had assumed was the beginning of the world which Joyce had told him was more like the end looked a whole like what was happening all around the planet now.
The conclusion I figured folks would draw: Yep, that was a trip into the near future.
2. When Golxumal was a dead moon, and Gol-Goroth lay in the dust, possibly dying, there was ash everywhere and green lightning roiled all over the brown planet dominating the sky -- just as it now roiled all over the Earth. And, at some point after that, there was nothing left in that area of the sky, except for dust.
Joyce noted that one question no one had asked Gol-Goroth: Who threw you down into that pit? We'd assumed it was the Liar. But, it wasn't.
Well, technically, Gol-Goroth was not in a pit, and had not been thrown anywhere. But, certainly, something had caused the destruction of the civilization on Golxumal, and, as Joyce noted, that something was not the Liar.
I now handed Martin's player a sheet about one of the books he'd received from Remy. In previous sessions, Martin had narrowed down a long list (which I said he'd probably narrowed down from an even longer one, as I had no desire to create a list of hundreds of pages and thousands of books -- as it was, the list was about 20-25 pages) of the books from Samson Trammel's library to a shorter list of 30-50 books he wanted to see.
Remy had sent those to him. I sent the player links to most of these, as I'd created the longer list from occult book catalogs. We were both boggled, the player that certain books were real and me that so many of the real books were available, legally, for free, online.
I then gave the player a list of the remainder of the books, each with a short paragraph of description. Before this final session, I created a more full description of one of those books, which I now handed the player, for, while the player had not asked for further details on any of the books, the character had the information to realize now which one might hold the key to explaining what was happening.
This did not spell everything out, but I had other handouts to explain what one could figure out from that first handout. The player did not need those, which was great.
Martin: It's Azathoth.
Joyce: What?! (cocks her gun, pointing it at her own head)
Vito: Joyce -- Joyce -- what are you doing?!
Lillian: Shut up and let me talk!
Martin: Shut up and let her talk.
Joyce: Martin, did you just say --
Martin: Yes.
Joyce: This is Azathoth?
Martin: Yes.
Joyce: We're doomed.
And the player decided that one of Joyce's pillars had just cracked: I saved the world once; I can save it again.
Vito offered Joyce a cigarette.
Joyce (waving it away): It doesn't matter anymore.
Vito (to Joyce): I've never seen you refuse a cigarette before.
The discussion started to get heated, while Martin tried, quietly and without success, to break in.
Lillian: Martin's going to save the world again if you'll only listen.
Martin: We need to get Edgar Job to go through an interstellar gate.
Joyce: One does not simply make an interstellar gate.
Lillian: Raise your hand if you just banished an interstellar god.
Martin: Raise your hand if there isn't another choice.
Joyce noted that there happened to be an interstellar gate in the Yucatan.
GM: Do you want to count on Gol-Goroth to continue to allow it to exist?
Joyce's Player: ... No.
The Horrible Truth
The puzzle which they had been assembling all game and into which Martin had fitted the final crucial pieces was this:
The 1924 ritual Ramon Echevarria had led his cult in was actually composed of an inner and an outer ritual. The inner ritual began with the summoning of the Liar and was always intended to end with the Liar's death or banishment. This ritual was intended to draw the attention of Azathoth, attention that would be fatal simply by Azathoth's nature. And, when the Liar was banished, the outer ritual was completed, for the 13-year-old break had been nothing more in the cosmic scale of things than the blink of an eye.
The Chaos at the Center of the Universe was not going to arrive in, ah, person on Earth. It was merely looking at the Earth, but that gaze alone was enough to destroy the planet. Its gaze was, however, bound to a focus. That focus was a single human being, the unlucky Edgar Job.
But, as Martin had learned from the book he had read, if Edgar Job could be perusaded to go through an interdimensional gate, the dread gaze of Azathoth would follow him, sparing the Earth.
To open such a gate, it was necessary to have seen the location onto which the gate opened. But, Joyce and Martin had seen a fine location in a painting in Samson Trammel's home, a painting called The Gazer's Perspective, and they had seen it in person, for it was that part of space where Golxumal floated -- at least, until the gaze of Azathoth had reduced Golxumal and the planet it orbited to dust.
This meant that Gol-Goroth hadn't simply told them the Liar's true name out of fury that the Liar was hiding behind its own name, but also because it wanted Azathoth's gaze turned away from Golxumal. Of course, this meant that Gol-Goroth set in motion the events that turned Azathoth's gaze to Golxumal in the first place.
(This was not in the original text, although it seems almost as if it were meant to be. The initial idea came from the Yog-Sothoth forums, iirc, and I added the bit about the full circle. There was another possibility I'd considered very carefully, but it didn't come up.)
And, for this particular run, both Nyarlathotep and Hastur were intimately involved. Nyarlathotep had hoped to prevent the destruction of the Earth, as it likes playing with the planet and its inhabitants. This is why Nyarlathotep fed Samson Trammel's delusions. But, the Crawling Chaos had no intention of spelling things out. If the monkeys were too dumb to figure it out, well, losing one's favorite toy is disappointing, but there are always other toys. Also, as the Messenger, Nyarlathotep might have been somewhat bound when it came to playing favorites, and certainly, once Azathoth's gaze was turned to the Earth, there wasn't anything more Nyarlathotep could do about it, except perhaps root for the folks trying to save the world in its own inscrutable way.
In some ways, both Nyarlathotep and Hastur acted as they did in the late 1920s because of the 1924 ritual. If the world was indeed teetering on the brink of destruction, from Nyarlathotep's point of view, best open the floodgates to all of the Outer Gods now. From Hastur's point of view, best destroy it or absorb it into Carcosa, denying it to either the Liar or Azathoth.
And, when Hastur was thwarted, it held a grudge. Perhaps nothing would have come of this, but when Vito was drawn into the struggle against the Liar, Hastur tricked Amelia, and through her, Vito, nudging them towards uncovering the information needed to banish the Liar and complete the 1924 ritual.
Martin was an unexpected bonus for Hastur. When Nyarlathotep offered to re-embody Jeremiah in return for Martin walking away from the struggle against the Liar, Hastur had no idea that Martin would decide to shop for a better bargain and send Amelia to ask Hastur for a counteroffer. Hastur's counteroffer was that, in return for re-embodying Jeremiah -- and, after some negotiation, allowing Amelia and Geoffrey to return to Earth if they wished to, and resurrecting Martin if he died while trying to up hold his end of the bargain -- Martin would not walk away from the struggle, and would, instead, see it through until the Liar were either banished or destroyed.
At that point, perhaps to rescue Vito, perhaps because she knew the world was ending and hoped to die, Amelia chose to return to Earth. Hastur kept its part of the bargain, and refused to allow her to return to Carcosa. As Vito noted, it was basically returning Amelia as a "f*ck you" gesture to Vito. (Geoffrey has pretty much been absorbed into the Stranger and has no desire to return to Earth.)
Flying to Baltimore
Joyce's player had already established that Joyce had renewed contact with Kristen Knuth, and we'd already established that folks had started creating and recreating networks of people dedicated to fighting the mythos. Granted, those networks are probably back to ground zero, what with the apocalypse, but they were still a fine justification for why There's Always A Plane. After all, this isn't a story about how folks find transportation to Baltimore and Johns Hopkins, but about what they do when they get there.
So, the Knuth family was supplying a Lockheed Electra, which, ironically, was the same model as Amelia Earhart's plane. Routes were planned.
Lillian's aunt Anne said that she would run interference with the mythos members of her and Lillian's family who wanted very badly for the world to end.
Vito said that the plane needed to make a stop in Ethiopia to pick up George Ayers, one of the only people on the entire planet whom Edgar Job considered a friend.
Lillian said that if they were going to Ethiopia anyway, she wanted to stop at Kolluli, where the father of her child lived.
After Ethiopia, the route would go to Gibraltar. Then, folks would switch to a Danish Royal Navy Flying Boat, which would go to a Danish colony in Virgin Islands. (I'm a little vague on the details, which I may have gotten wrong.)
From there, the flying boat would go as close to Baltimore as it could get, which meant the Chesapeake Bay.
(This was amusing as I had recently come from the first ChessieCon.)
Lillian's Player: So, we're going to save the world while one of my sources of stability runs around the world slaying my relatives -- which is a good thing.
Some time during the journey, Joyce apologized to Vito.
Vito: You owe me an apology? Who are you and what have you done with Joyce? (gun in hand)
Joyce: Don't jog my arm while I'm flying.
I think she was apologizing for something to do with her attitutude toward the King in Yellow or Amelia. I think Vito said something about Hastur laughing.
Joyce: I don't know if they laugh.
Amelia: It's more of a smirk.
(I took that from something Amelia's player had said as Amelia in a brief email.)
George Ayers was collected with little fuss. He was more than willing to help. The next stop was Kolluli, and somewhere around here, someone said, I think of Lillian's infant son, Panoub, "Maybe he's a monster." This may or may not have been followed by a statement that all children were monsters.
As Martin's player had previously played Jerome, I handed the NPC off to her again. Jerome tried to take in the full extent of how his life had changed since he met Lillian.
Jerome: The world is ending and you're bringing me a baby? ... Thank you.
Lillian: Do you think you can keep him safe for the next little while while I save the world, or would you like to come with me?
Jerome: What constitutes saving the world?
After further discussion, he decided that he would stay in Kolluli with his new son.
Meanwhile, Vito and Joyce were talking.
Vito: Azathoth is everywhere.
Joyce: No, that's Jesus. An easy mistake.
Lillian approached Joyce and explained that she'd like to borrow Joyce's services as a yenta.
Joyce: Excuse me?
Lillian: A yenta. A marriage broker. (*) You're the only one here who can translate from Italian.
Vito: Hey!
Lillian: The only woman.
Joyce: You may be better with Vito.
Lillian: Martin!
Joyce: Okay, I'll do it.
Lillian: I think I want the feminine touch. Come on, Martin.
(*) NB: Lillian got this wrong, likely because the player, like many of us, first heard the term "yenta" in Fiddler on the Roof, where it is the name of the village matchmaker. "Yenta" actually means "an old gossip", "busybody", "meddler", or "nuisance". The play did not exist at this point, of course, although Sholem Aleichem's Tevye stories did. I don't know if there's a character named "Yenta" in them. I think not. The Jacob Adler play Yenta Telebenta did exist, but I don't think the title character was a matchmaker.
So, Martin went to translate what Lillian said into Italian so that Jerome's mother, Maria, would understand it. I have no idea whether the marriage of a Coptic Christian Afar man who, I think, already had another wife, and who was in his late 20s or early 30s in 1938, would have been arranged by his father, his mother, or simply himself. Perhaps Jerome's father was dead and Jerome himself was fairly confident in his ability to get his first wife to agree, but wanted to make sure he had his mother's blessing. Or possibly Lillian decided that, whatever the local custom was, she wanted to get her future mother-in-law's blessing.
So, you're an Afar woman listening to a 20-something white woman inform you that she's bourne your son a baby and that she intends to come to Kolluli and live with him. And, she assures you, she won't come empty handed, but with a worthy dowry.
Hm. My guess was that Maria would, at the very, very least, be extremely nervous about a white woman moving in. This would cause trouble when her family searched for her, and the fact that she was rich would just make the trouble worse. She was less than reassured by Lillian's attempt to convince her that no one would come looking for Lillian, although Lillian absolutely believed that this was the case.
I did not have her speak strongly in opposition to the very concept of this stranger marrying her son. This was partly because, as Lillian eventually told Martin to translate (though I don't recall if he did), given that Lillian fully intended to marry Jerome with or without his mother's blessing, Maria had the choice of whether to make the strange, rich white woman an ally or an enemy. Maria had already figured that part out. She wasn't about to forbid the marriage, I figured, but it wasn't something she would be happy about either.
The other reason is that this was going to be the last session, and I didn't want things bogging down in a side plot. I certainly didn't want to go around in circles, so I was trying to find a way to break the stalemate. Then, one occurred to me. I will not pretend this is anything approaching realistic, but it might be used in a movie.
Martin asked if there were anything Lillian might be able to do to prove her good faith so that her future mother-in-law would give her blessing to the marriage. Maria looked all around her, gesturing to the falling ash and lightning. It was clear to her that the world seemed to be ending -- perhaps another reason she wasn't outright resisting the very idea of the marriage -- so if her future daughter-in-law could kindly make the lightning stop, then, yes, she would give her blessing.
She did not, of course, mean this quite literally. What she -meant- was probably more along the lines of, "So, the world's ending. If this were to change, I would probably be relieved enough that everything else would be small potatoes by comparison." And, of course, if the problem of the end of the world were to be solved, she might never know or believe that Lillian had any part in it. But, that wasn't necessary. She'd stand by her word. We had a reasonable out, a hoary cliche, and enough story lubricant to move on.
Lillian: Fine. I will save the world betrothed, not married. (flounces off (player's description, not mine))
Somewhere around here, I noted that something Martin's player had told me was not likely to come out in a big, dramatic way, so I mentioned it so that the player could let the others know.
As the player explained, Martin had an unusual sensation of anger, unusual because anger was an emotion he tended to suppress or channel into snarkiness, often of the type that critiques the intelligence of those who have physical advantages over oneself. As the player put it, Martin was very repressed, just not sexually.
But, Martin had thought about the current situation and had come to the same conclusion as Vito, that he'd been expertly played by Hastur, well before Vito mentioned it. Martin realized that Hastur had, in fact, behaved quite intelligently -- and hadn't gone out of its way to lure anyone in. Rather, Martin had reached out to Hastur, and had gotten what he wanted at a price he thought he could afford. There was no one to blame except himself, and he knew this. And yet, he was angry at Hastur.
Vito: The great thing is you've stopped being angry at -yourself-.
The player agreed, saying that Vito kept constantly telling Martin that Martin wasn't worthless until Martin actually finally started to believe it.
Joyce: You talk a lot, little man.
Vito: I got shat out by a god!
Joyce: Are you willing to make the final sacrifice?
Vito: Yes.
At least, I think that's what he said. If not, it was probably something more elaborate that boiled down to "Yes". I preseume that Joyce and Vito were taking about walking through the gate, or perhaps talking about dying, but I'm not certain.
Meanwhile, Martin was worried about Joyce.
Martin: Don't die from Russian roulette. It's a stupid death.
Joyce: Do you think any of us has a -choice- in this?
Both of them knew the spell to create a Hyperspace Gate, and both knew that it would cost to open one across an interstellar distance.
Joyce: I'll do it.
Martin: -We'll- do it.
He was well aware that Joyce was not exactly interested in preserving her own life and not at all convinced that there was any chance that the world would not end.
I'm guessing that this is the point where he wrote and slipped Joyce a note. I found it when I got home after the session, like a sort of Easter Egg at the end of a movie.
So, other games? Players pass notes about nefarious plans, paranoid suspicions, and so on.
This game? The note read:
Please don't die if you can possibly help it. And don't fucking kill yourself. (I'm saying the same thing twice.)
Martin didn't have the nerve to say it to Joyce's face, the player explained.
- Martin's Note to Joyce aka the Easter Egg the GM found
I forget the context of this:
Lillian: Which is why I'm trying to get you to be more like Martin.
Joyce: I don't like penises enough.
Folks transferred to the flying boat, and I had Joyce's player make a Pilot roll, something I normally don't do for routine flights. But, this was hardly a routine flight. Joyce was flying into the teeth of an apocalyptic storm, and that was not a poetic exaggeration.
Joyce was one of the best d*amned pilots in the entire world. But, the player rolled a 1, and had not, for a change, spent quite enough points to guarantee success. So, the flying boat was going down.
The player noted that it would be going down into water, and that it was, after all, a flying -boat-. I agreed that this made sense and had her make a second piloting roll. She spent fewer points, but I figured this was slightly easier, so the Difficulty was a tad lower.
And, again, she rolled a 1.
Joyce: Abandon... boat!
We both thought that it was astonishingly appropriate for Joyce to fail at what she was best at right after one of her pillars cracked. Interestingly, her remaining pillar was, and remained, "Flying is the world's greatest pleasure."
I don't recall whether or not I hit anyone for damage for the unexpectedly rough splashdown. I suspect that a) I didn't, b) I ought to have, but c) it wasn't a huge mistake.
To The Eye of the Storm
Joyce, Douglas Henslowe, Vito, Amelia, Lillian, George Ayers, Martin, and Jeremiah came ashore somewhat bedraggled. To get to Johns Hopkins, they decided the easiest thing would be to hotwire a parked or abandoned car or truck.
Vito: Not that one! It's yellow!
Joyce: It really doesn't matter any more.
They drove to Johns Hopkins, which was at the center of the world storm, and not in good shape. There, they were met by Dr. Cecil Walker. Cecil was at least as shell shocked as Joyce, possibly more so, but he had taken notes. I believe he handed them first to Joyce.
The first page was typed. The second was handwritten.
Cecil led them to where Edgar Job was. This involved a trip through open land and choked rubble, where lightning struck and deadly radiation flared unexpectedly from acute angles.
The book has interesting spot rules for dealing with this, involving allowing players to spend Investigative ability points from certain Academic and Technical skills. Each point spent gives a pool of 1d6 points which can be used to soak damage from lightning or radiation. Players needed to explain just how these skills were protecting characters from these unnatural hazards.
This took some time, but with a group of nine people -- Joyce, Vito, Martin, Lillian, Douglas, Jeremiah, Amelia, George, and Cecil -- caution was well advised. Examples of skill justifications included:
Joyce: Cthulhu Mythos: You just have to do the math for 17 dimensions to see where the lightning will strike.
Lillian: Art and Photography: A Chiarscuro of the End of the World.
Martin: Architecture plus lightning rods.
Martin's Player: I finally get to use my Antiquarian special ability!
Once everything was explained, rolled, and tallied, there was a pool of 103 points, and there were lightning rods atop buildings, mirrors arranged carefully, specially prepared clothing, and so on. And, if need be, the pools could be replenished, on a 1 to 1 basis, from certain general abilities -- though not Health!
Normally, to see whether or not someone is hit, the target number is 3 if the target's Athletics is less than 8, and otherwise, 4. The book said to use as target number each character's "highest remaining Investigative pool total". I wasn't happy with this for several reasons. First, it meant more taking a break from play for fiddly calculations -- calculations that were not as interesting as the justifications for spending points for protection. Second, it struck me as punishing the players for getting into the spirit of the special rules, particularly as I'm not sure that they're supposed to know about the hit rules. Third, I'm not sure what one does with NPCs in this case.
I emailed Christopher Smith Adair about this, and he came up with a third alternative: Use Sense Trouble as if it were Athletics for the purpose of calculating the hit thresthold. I liked this. It preserved the difference in feel that the authors seemed to be going with. It was simple. And, appropriately, everyone except for Martin had a Sense Trouble Rating of 8 or higher. As for the NPCs, well, I'd improvise.
Everyone was attacked once by lightning and once by radiation. I think I spent two points for each attack until I ran out the pool. I made all the rolls first, making a check for each hit and an X for each miss. Then, with the sheet in front of me, I asked the players what order to go in.
I think it was PCs first, and then NPCs. For the PCs, it was Martin, then Joyce, as these were the two people who knew how to cast the spell to create the Hyperspace Gate. I think after that it was Lillian, who was on friendly terms with Edgar Job. They'd both been patients at Joy Grove, and had the sort of bond fellow prisoners might form. Lillian had given Edgar better advice than Dr. Keaton, while Edgar had always been willing to discuss any topic frankly with Lillian. Vito came last.
Martin and Joyce each got hit by both lightning and radiation, while Lillian and Vito dodged the lightning, but not the radiation. Each time I rolled damage, I asked if folks wanted the characters to take it or to use points from the slowly diminishing pool. I think Vito's player had Vito take a couple of points, but otherwise, the pool was used. (Possibly it was Lillian who took the damage, though; my notes are not clear on this point.)
Next, were the NPCs. I think Jeremiah went first, getting hit by lightning and radiation, and I think the pool was used to soak all but five points of damage.
George Ayers went next, as folks correctly guessed that he was needed to convince Edgar to go through the gate. He was hit by lightning and radiation, years of meditation and fasting not having prepared him for this, taking 20 points of damage. Or was he?
The pool soaked the damage.
Next was Douglas, Joyce's Source of Stability, as Martin had no desire for her to go insane. Douglas, too, was hit by lightning and radiation, taking 13 points of damage -- or was he?
Again, the pool soaked the damage.
Next was Amelia. Ironically, the NPC most likely to be suicidal was spared by both lightning and radiation. Perhaps it was sheer luck, though Lillian's player had the idea that she was skipping through the storm, around lightning bolts and well away from acute angles.
Last came Cecil, who was hit by radiation, though not lightning. He took five points of damage -- and again, the pool soaked it. There were 20 points left in it, and by my count, of the 18 rolls made (2 for each of 9 characters), five were misses.
And folk came at last to Edgar Job.
Saving the World, D*mning a Man
Cecil had brought Edgar to the basement, to a round operating theater. He was still there, face covered in ash except for where tears had left their tracks.
Martin and Joyce started making the Hyperspace Gate, while Vito and Douglas readied themselves in case something or someone attacked. Lillian went to speak to Edgar Job.
The book has guidelines for what folks can say or do to convince Edgar Job to walk through a Hyperspace Gate. It isn't possible to force him through the gate (*), but it is possible to trick him. However, Lillian had no intention of tricking him, and I'm not sure any of the others thought that tricking him would be right.
Update: Turns out I was incorrect.
Martin's Player (via Google Hangout / Chat) : Oh, Martin would have tricked Job into going through. He didn't want to. Like okay possibly outright lying should be the second resort, not the absolute first one. But Martin's a giant liar and totally would have lied, lied, lied if he'd felt it was the only way to get Job through the portal.
Mechanically, if one goes strictly by the book and does not use the harsh option, which I'll get to in a bit, one needs to make three convincing arguments, accompanying these with the appropriate Interpersonal ability spends. Bringing George Ayers counts as making two successful arguments.
They had brought George Ayers. And when Lillian explained what was going on to Edgar and what they wanted of him, she started by mentioning her newborn son.
At that point, we'd hit the sweet spot, where the mechanics fade away because the narrative level has already got that covered. Sure, when Lillian spoke to Edgar, talking about how strong and brave he was, and apologizing for not realizing how strong he was, that maps easily on to a 1 point Flattery Spend. But the thing to remember is that "a 1-point Flattery Spend" models the earnest speech she made, not the other way around. So, we weren't skipping playing anything out, but I didn't need to stop and look anything up, which is a good place to be.
Edgar had no idea what was happening to him. He was in great pain, great enough that he'd tried to kill himself several times, to no avail. He felt the weight of terrible, terrible attention on him. He didn't think anyone could do anything to help him.
Lillian agreed that this was the case, but said that he could do something for everyone, and that she needed for him to be as strong as he had already proved he could be when he watched over the mouth at Joy Grove for hours or when he held off orderlies at Johns Hopkins to protect Jeremiah's brain cylinder.
She explained what Ramon Echevarria had done to him. He said that he had been very stupid to believe Ramon, but she insisted that he had not been. When he protested that she would have known better, she told him that she would have fallen completely for Ramon Echevarria's lies. Lillian may not always know herself as well as she thinks, but in this case, she was almost certain correct about her own weaknesses.
George was quietly supportive, and somewhere in there, I had Cecil figure out the last bits of the puzzle now that he'd heard the ones he hadn't previously had. He interrupted himself at first, not sure it was actually relevant, but Lillian thought it might be, and, in any case, I think she wanted to see the whole picture.
Clearly, Ramon Echevarria's goal was to draw Azathoth's attention to destroy the Earth. But, why would he wish to do such a thing? Cecil noted two things that had gradually become apparent to all over the length of the campaign. First, Ramon Echevarria was a narrcissist with a colossal ego. Second, great power demands great sacrifice, and great sacrifice brings great rewards, as was demonstrated by Montgomery Donovan's sacrifice of his wife in return for increased Nectar productivity in Malta.
What power could be so great as to warrant sacrificing one's entire planet? Cecil theorized that Ramon Echevarria wanted to become a god. And, even if he died along with anyone else, in his mind, he would still have triumphed because, as the person responsible for the destruction of the world, he would clearly have become the most important person in the world.
Martin: I can open the portal at any time now.
Edgar: Can we just get this over with?
Martin's Player: Martin steps over it with the Locksley overcoat and the portal opens.
At this point, Vito approached Edgar, explaining that he was a father and starting to make it clear that he was quite willing to beg, if necessary, for Edgar to go through the gate. George Ayers gently put a hand over Vito's mouth.
(In theory, I could have let Vito continue, even if it meant undoing some of Lillian's work, but I think, practically speaking, it made sense not to drag out the moment.)
Martin offered Edgar a pill, basically a downer, on the theory that it might ease Edgar's pain, at least a little, at least temporarily. Edgar asked which of the pills he used to take it was most like, and Lillian told him. He asked for something to take it with, and Martin, ever prepared when it comes to drugs, supplied some booze. I very much doubt it did Edgar any good, but it was a kind thought.
Unlike the other gates folks had seen and used before, this one was not simply the lines drawn on the floor. Rather, it floated in midair. Edgar walked through it.
Vito: Oh God.
This was probably the first time he had called on God in any way at all in over a decade.
Lillian (calling to Edgar): Remember: Om mani padme hum!
She hoped desperately that such meditation techniques as she'd discussed with him might bring him some relief. Nevertheless, in terms of self-inflicted Stability losses, folks agreed that this was the equivalent of killing one's own Source of Stability.
Vito: Will he die?
Joyce: I don't think so.
Vito: Will he change?
Joyce: You know what? That's above my pay range.
Vito: We may have given birth to a new god.
This is probably not the case. Probably.
The ash fall gradually tapered off. The storm slowly subsided, and with it, the lightning. It would be more than a year before any country returned to any state resembling normal, but, eventually, that day would come.
Coda
We now cut ahead, each person doing a vignette for his or her character, first a month after, then a year after, and finally, a decade after. These were rough time units, not precise ones.
One month later...
Lillian:
She returned to Kolluli, with great wealth in the form of tools, camels, and other goods.
Lillian (to Jerome): I told you you'd be rich and lucky.
Joyce:
Interior. Joyce's little apartment. Day.
Door unlocks. She walks in. There are blank spaces because Cissy took her stuff with her.
On a bookshelf is a 4 volume set of, I think, Proust, with the third volume missing. Nothing is cut after page 50 of the first volume. Joyce had planned to get around to reading the rest of it... some time.
There's the sound of a loud clock ticking. Darkness falls.
Then, light again. Joyce is showing Jeremiah and Martin around.
Joyce: The rent is $150 a month. Fred's the building manager; he lives on the first floor. You'd better make the payments -- I'm keeping the place.
Change of scene. Vito de Genarra and Tommy Carapacio, with Joyce in the car.
Cissy walks by. Joyce watches until she's out of sight.
Joyce: Take me to the docks.
The car drives to the docks. Joyce gets out. She's dressed in adventuring garb.
Martin:
Martin went to visit Samson Trammel, as he had promised. He confirmed that the Liar was gone. Samson shot himself, blowing his brains out in front of Martin.
Ironically, Martin had been just about to give Samson Trammel the ritual to summon the Liar back. Sure, it would be no easy process. It took Ramon Echevarria two years to form a sufficiently decadent cult, and he had more charisma than Samson Trammel. But, it would have been possible.
Martin's Player: I think if this is TV, he's reaching into his pocket, drawing out the notes -- and then Samson shoots himself and the notes drop and scatter on the floor. And there's a nice shot of what the notes are.
Martin walked out, probably in shock, definitely taking the Stability hit.
Martin's Player: Martin has a 2 Credit Rating -- he'll pay people to bury Samson Trammel.
Next scene: Martin and Jeremiah are at the funeral. There are pall bearers as well, but no priest.
Martin drops some dirt into the grave.
Later that night, he tells Jeremiah everything.
NB: He'd pretty much been doing that all along, so I'm not sure how much Jeremiah didn't know at that point.
This coda was the only one where I broke the book's advice of giving the player free rein to decide what happens in the flashback, and I asked the player afterwards if she wanted to tweak what happened, but she liked the dramatic irony.
She noted that Martin loved Samson Trammel and would do far more for him than was wise or sane -- although this would NOT include Martin spending two years of his own life recreating the cult of the Liar. Still, from Martin's point of view, the Liar was destroying the world at an incredibly slow rate. He didn't consider that a problem.
Martin would not have gone to such great lengths for someone like Husein, whom he did not love and who was not one of his Sources of Stability. I didn't pin down what happened to Husein, Luc, and Alex, and I don't feel the need to, although I do have a couple of theories. But, they weren't important at this point.
Vito:
Vito: Joyce, I need one last favor.
Cut to a small farm in the west of England.
Vito shoots his mistress.
He has a gun in his hand. He has a baby in his hook arm. Douglas Henslowe and Joyce are watching. There are dead fauns of the satyr variety.
Vito: Sorry, babe, but you made it clear who you loved more. I hope you're happy in the embarce of your goddess.
NB: That last is expressed more as a curse than a wish.
Vito: Thank you for helping me out, Joyce.
Joyce: Yeah, I can take time out of my busy schedule.
Joyce confirms that Vito will look after Douglas and find a place for him.
Vito: He's family.
Vito asks if Joyce wants to do something, probably join him for more monster hunting.
Joyce: Vito, no offense, but you'll understand if I want to take a vacation from monsters.
NB: Vito's player had forgotten about his mistress's other daughter, fathered by her husband, a 14-year-old girl, and we agreed that it was a lovely loose end to leave dangling. (She wasn't staying with her mother, who'd tried to keep the girl away from the mythos.)
One year later...
Someone raised the question about whether history would be significantly changed.
Joyce's Player: The great volcano explosion in the Himalayas? Yeah, that caused some -weird- weather.
Joyce:
It's more like a year and a half later. South China, 1940. Air field.
General Leslie Graves: Yep, the Chinese say they're sending us their best flying instructor.
Joyce: So, this is the Flying Tigers? You can't fly worth shit.
Vito:
Meyer Lansky: You disappeared for two years, and you came back stone cold.
Vito: I owe you some money.
Meyer (now played by Joyce's player, who does it really well): -You- owe me money. -Everyone- owes me money!
Vito deposits a lot of money on the table.
Meyer: Whoa! That's some money. Is that the collateral or the principle?
Vito deposits an even huger heap of money on the table.
Meyer: Thank you.
Vito doesn't become a big public figure, but rather a quiet power in the Syndicate. He leads purges of cultists with it. He helps with a new organization in Malta, monster fighting across the world
SUBJECT TO AMELIA's ORIGINAL PLAYERS APPROVAL:
If Amelia is still alive, Vito sets her up as an artist.
Two men enter while Vito's in the room with Meyer Lansky. They're from the Office of Strategic Services.
First Man: Mr. de Genarra? Your services come very highly recommended by Miss Summers.
Vito: Oh, Joycey, you b*tch!
Meyer (laughing) said something about Vito doing his part for the war effort. I have no idea what that was.
The OSS wanted Vito's help with "exotic technologies", and was not shy about threatening to have the IRS look into Vito's finances otherwise.
During World War II, Vito is there for atom bomb testing.
Vito is not impressed by atom bomb testing, saying something about how "they", i.e., the Outer Gods, are getting "us to do it to ourselves".
Lillian:
The Ruins of Dallol.
Lillian is kneeling in the middle of it. She is wearing her desert outfit, crying again. She has her kukri and a picture of Jerome and Panoub.
Shivering, she holds her kukri against her arm.
She takes a deep breath. Her eyes open. She sees the setting sun --
Then, a teeny bit of black smoke.
Lillian gets up and starts running.
Next shot: Axis tanks rolling into Kolluli, smashing everything. The village is crushed by the tanks.
The camera pans out. The entire tribe is running, going elsewhere.
Panoub is with his grandmother and aunt. Jerome and Lillian are observing from a nearby dune.
Next shot: An Axis tank encampment, the middle of night.
There are people on watch. A sentry yawning.
A flash of steel, a glint off a blade, and a thump.
Malta: A few months later.
Panoub, his aunt, and his grandmother, with a mechanized (something I can't read).
Maria hands over a letter to a very confused looking Sir Godfrey Welles.
Martin:
Camera into Joyce's apartment, very late at night.
Martin has woken up. He's leaning against Jeremiah. Both look like they've just woken up.
Martin looks completely hollowed out, and Jeremiah looks tired.
(I may be missing a detail here.)
Holding each other, Jeremiah finally gives up and puts a record in the victrola -- a waltz -- and picks Martin up. They start dancing.
Then the camera moves off them to a desk.
Books -- normal books, poetry books, old books, antique books -- and a couple of mythos books -- and they look like they've been cracked.
A decade later...
Lillian:
Lillian's Player: Jerome's not cut out for a life of international adventure, is he?
Jerome's player, who is also Martin's player, confirms this.
Next time we seeher, Lillian is in Baltimore, with her family -- her brothers and her mother and father -- and Cecil.
She is dedicating the Edgar Job Memorial Rebuilt Mental Care Facility.
The camera lets you note a pale ring around Lillian's left ring finger where the skin is not quite as tan. She clutches a locket around her neck.
She's moving from Wednesday Addams to Morticia Addams.
Lillian (to her family): I'm glad to be home... I'm glad to be out of that nunnery. The monks and the nuns were very kind to me. I'm sorry I didn't let you know where I was. Cecil, would you see me back to my hotel room? There's some calls I need to make -- some people I need to find, to help me.
Inside her locket is a picture of her son, Panoub.
She has contact information for Martin. She has contact information for Joyce.
Joyce's player was skeptical.
Lillian's Player: Well, it may not be -current- information.
Joyce's player agreed, and I think folks agreed that Lillian's contact information for Joyce was c/o Martin.
Lillian: I hope they can help me find him, one way or another.
Vito:
Vito's player asked for permission to insert Vito into Lillian's scene, and indeed, Lillian's player had set things up so that folks could do just that with their characters.
As Lillian is being escorted to the car, another car, a Cadillac Limousine pulled up. An actual driver opened the door. The driver was Douglas Henslowe (and was played by Joyce's player, which seems appropriate, as he is one of Joyce's Sources of Stability).
AGAIN, SUBJECT TO ORIGINAL PLAYER'S APPROVAL
A very elegant looking Amelia gets out of the car.
Vito gets out of the car. He is standing with a cane, wearing a sharp bespoke black suit.
Joyce's Player: You're -so- a Man in Black.
You can recognize the hook. There is a scratch across his chin.
A blond girl gets out of the car.
Vito (to the girl): I want to introduce you to your aunt Lillian.
Lillian: And this is your gift form the gods?
Vito sort of glowers.
Vito: This is my daughter Vivian. (to Vivian) Say hello to your aunt Lillian.
Vivian: Hello.
Vito: Where is Panoub?
Lillian: I would very much like to know that.
Vito (sternly): Why didn't you contact me? (realizing, mollified) Oh, right. You wouldn't have been able to find me.
Lillian: But I just did.
Vito conceded that point in a way that boiled down to recognizing that Lillian is still Lillian, but I have no idea of what he actually said.
Vito: Joyce is all right.
Martin wrote a small note: I'd rather not go back there.
I'm not sure if this was about Lillian asking him to go to Ethiopia or Malta to look for Panoub, but that's my guess.
Vito looks at the memorial There is a small, tasteful plaque with a sketch of Edgar Job gazing calmly out into space.
Vito takes out a bottle of liquor, pours a glass, sips, pours out the rest on the ground.
Vito: My friend, I can only imagine what sort of glories you are seeing.
Douglas (played by Joyce's Player): Mr. de Genarra -- the Secretary did want you to get back to him, and the General --
(I forget the exact dialogue)
I think Alexi was with Lillian at this point. Both he and Panoub were squires to Sir Godfrey. But, Lillian lost track of Panoub.
She is very quietly freaking the hell out because of this. But, she also makes it clear that she's planning to spend some quality time with Cecil. Cecil likewise makes this clear.
Vito: All right, Dougie. We will go ahead and see the General. (to Lillian): I'm going up to New York City in a week or two, to see Marty and Jerry.
Lillian: Can I go with?
Douglas: She doesn't have clearance.
Lillian: Douglas, do not make me use confrontation therapy.
Vito takes out a form or certificate and writes something on it or signs it or something.
Vito: Fine. She's got clearance now.
I think Douglas may have pointed out the technical irregularities, but if so, Vito made it clear that Douglas was not going to push the point.
He and his entourage get back in his car, and Douglas drives away. Lillian gets into a car with Cecil, and that car also drives away.
Nartin:
He is now somewhat less pretty, more craggy faced, distinguished.
He and Jeremiah are moving into a home, a house in New England.
Interior of the house. Martin with a knife, opening a box.
The box is -full- of mythos books.
Camera pans from the box to the desk to a little brochure on the desk. The part it shows reads:
Welcome to Miskatonic University Orne Library Speacial Research Division
Cut to:
Vito: Make sure that they're not interfered with by anyone and that they get all the funding they need. No one is to mess with them, and they are to be watched.
Jeremiah and Martin in a car. Martin's first day at work.
Martin walks into the Miskatonic University library and looks up. And up and up and up at all the books.
Joyce:
Exterior. Montage of Parisian scenes, autumn. A lone figure.
Crowded alley, Joyce, with a bag of groceries, and a bottle of wine under one arm. People greeting her in French.
Joyce's 5th floor walk up. It's efficient. There's a stack of empty wine bottles.
In one tiny room / office. Camera pans over various awards.
Flying Tigers Patch
Bronze Star for Captain Joshua Winters, US Army Air Corp
Photo of Soviet women, flag, Order of Lenin
Overseas Medals, Lieutenant Josephine A. Summers
Ministerial Aviation, blueprints, jet
Camera pans to a typewriter with a sheet of paper in it, the first page of a novel she's writing: The Big N
Camera pans to a letter from the US Department of State
Dear Miss Summers,
We regret to inform you that we are once again unable to renew your passport. We will review your case again in six months...
Joyce drinks the wine.
She puts on her glasses because there's no one there to see her.
She opens a book. It is a French translation of Moby Dick.
She stares into the camera.
ROLL CREDITS
Post-Coda Notes
So, how different would history be after the apocalyptic events of 1938? That's really a group call or a GM call, depending on how one's group does things. Lillian's player was of the opinion that history would be entirely different, while Joyce's player thought that things would only bobble a little due to the, ah, volcanic explosion of Mount Kailash and the really freaky weather that followed for months afterwards.
For myself, I want enough of a change to be felt, but not so much I need to do a lot of extra work.
Requiring the Ultimate Sacrifice
If at any point any player character offers to accompany Edgar Job on his exile, "with no tricks, no sleight of hand", according to the book, that is sufficient. Debate ends; Edgar Job agrees.
I'd asked folks on various fora what to do if a player decides to call "backsies", saying that either the character was lying after all or that the character had second thoughts at the last minute. General consensus boiled down to:
1. Edgar Job is not an idiot. He's going to be skeptical of offers that come out of nowhere unless he has good reason to believe them. He might insist the other go first through the gate.
2. However, if the player calls "backsies", so be it. This is about what kind of people the player characters are. It's their story, not Edgar Job's.
This didn't come up, as no one offered to go with Edgar Job, and I was using the default set up. However, the authors note that it's fine for a GM to decide that nothing less than a player character making the ultimate sacrifice will do. From a presentation point of view, if the ultimate sacrifice is optional, the GM shouldn't be suggesting it, but if it's required, the GM needs to make sure the players and their characters learn this, if need be, by having Edgar Job say outright, "I'll go if one of you will come with me."
When things first started in the autumn of 2013, it seemed to me that the most likely person to decide to go through the gate with Edgar Job was Martin, perhaps followed by Lillian, though Vito might also rush to volunteer. Before the final session, though, all of these characters had good reason not to volunteer. That is, yes, if the fate of the world depended on it, and if there were no other way, they'd probably be willing to walk through the gate, but they had a counterweight, something worth living for on Earth. In Martin's case, it was Jeremiah. In Lillian's case, it was Panoub. In Vito's case, he had a family, including a newborn daughter, and Amelia needed looking after.
The one person who, on paper, seemed to have nothing holding her to Earth was Joyce. But, as it turns out, she was no more likely, and possibly less likely, to walk through the gate with Edgar Job than any of the other three.
Martin's player said that Martin would have stepped through that gate in a heartbeat if it were necessary. Yes, even if it meant leaving Jeremiah on the other side. Yes, even if it meant Jeremiah stepped through into de facto eternal damnation with him. He would do it to spite Hastur. After all, as the player said, Hastur probably got less satisfaction out of "a pair of sad lovers" than "earth is gone".
Lillian's player said that Lillian would have stepped through. After all, she had made arrangements for the care and training of her son. And I think Vito's player confirmed that Vito would have done whatever was necessary, whatever it cost him.
The Carcosa Option
To save the Earth, it was necessary to open a Hyperspce Gate to somewhere across vast, interstellar distances. Therefore, Eternal Lies sets up circumstances where the PCs will see such a place via the picture The Gazer's Perspective.
In theory, the part of space where Golxumal is might be another such place. In the book as written, there is nothing to indicate that it's the location shown in The Gazer's Perspective. This was added by someone on the Y-S forum, iirc, and I liked the idea, so I used it. I'm not sure just why Ramon Echevarria had this painting in the first place, on the narrative level, but it may be that he actually had some contact with Gol-Goroth at some point, given that his whole scheme of destroying the Earth actually benefits Gol-Goroth. Hm. I really must mull that one over. It may smooth out a few bumps in the backstory.
In this run, however, after Martin killed Montgomery Donovan, it occurred to me that there was another possibility for this group.
Martin had gone to the Silent City, aka Mdina, in Malta, because he figured that if he walked its streets long enough at night, he could find his way to Carcosa, or the Stranger, or both. He left quickly, as the Stranger advised, lest he be trapped in Carcosa, creating a gate that would open in Montgomery Donovan's bedroom. But, that was a gate from Mdina / Carcosa, not a gate to it.
Still, it was not impossible that someone would think of sending Edgar Job to Carcosa. And, Martin wasn't the only one who could claim to have seen that city, for Vito had been there as well.
Vito's Drive was revenge. And, Martin found himself furious at Hastur. Sending Edgar Job to draw Azathoth's fatal gaze to Hastur's own world was definitely something I could not rule out. Should I allow it to succeed? What would follow if I did?
Well, the best case scenario would be that a different planet full of people suffered and died because of the choices the PCs made. Sure, I could rule that Hastur stopped the gate from working or something like that, but... if the characters had decided to be that ruthless, I decided, I would let it stand.
This would, however, have a couple of loose ends, at least one of which would need to be addressed.
Let us suppose that Martin and the others opened a gate to Carcosa, and that Edgar Job walked through. Somewhere in Carcosa was a gate leading back to Earth, to the bedroom of Montgomery Donovan.
However much Edgar Job might have wanted to stay away from Earth, if the pain did not drive him back through the gate in Carcosa, Hastur almost certainly would. If the Carcosa Option were taken, one of the PCs would have had to go through the gate with Edgar Job, and would have to find and erase the gate leading back to Earth before Edgar Job went through it -- and perhaps, before other things went through it.
Naturally, Edgar Job himself could not be trusted to erase the gate, nor could any other NPC. If this were to be done, a PC would have to do it. I was fairly sure at least one of the PCs would be willing to make that sacrifice, the same that Amelia once made, but could no longer make.
So, the Carcosa Option was definitely on the table, but, as with the Ultimate Sacrifice, was not something I would suggest. It had to come from the players, not from me.
Bringing PCs Back From the Dead
If the PCs fall off Mount Kailash or into the Devouring Ravine or one of the many Mouths or other orifices of the Liar that are lining the ravine, the book advises Keepers to be vague about exactly what happens, hand the players any NPCs on the mountain, and continue. However, unless all of the PCs perish AND the Liar is banished or destroyed, the authors advise that the dead PCs remain dead.
If both conditions are met, the authors suggest that the Keeper choose one PC to survive, swallowed by the Liar and excreted elsewhere. Just where is up to the individual Keeper.
As we neared the end of the campaign, I realized that, if I wanted, I had a way to bring back any and all of the PCs.
Nyarlathotep might well save Joyce, for two reasons: To show her exactly what she'd done, and because she might be able to save his favorite toy. Whether Joyce would have accepted Nyarlathotep's aid would, of course, be another matter.
As I was using the "Wives of March" background for Lillian, if she died, she'd immediately be reborn, all memories intact, in the body of an infant girl. Admittedly, getting this infant back into the thick of things would be a little tricky, but I figured I could always use Aunt Anne as needed.
Amelia could guide Vito out, as Hastur would permit this, wanting to show Vito exactly what he had been manipulated into doing. This could combine with Amelia returning to Earth and Vito, only to be doomed to die with the rest of the planet. And, that's the one I actually used, although if Vito's player had decided that Vito would refuse Amelia's aid, in full understanding that this meant Vito's death, I would have respected that decision.
For Martin, I had two possibilities. First, Hastur would bring him back at least so long as the Liar was alive and unbanished. Second, Martin tends to accumulate good karma, and he'd given Husein a ritual to open a new Mouth. If Hastur had no reason to bring him back, he could get excreted through the very Mouth Husein had opened.
This led to the interesting question of just where the Mouth that might eject Martin or Vito or Joyce should be. For Vito, I realized that it should be somewhere in India, and that one of the people hauling him out of the hole should be Sivakumar, the man who had guided him and his companions across India and Nepal in Tatters of the King. I decided to place the Mouth at Calcutta if this came up, which it did.
For Martin, I might have placed it in Los Angeles. This would have allowed me to wrap up the Samson Trammel thread earlier, and I think that would have worked. But, I like the way that thread worked out in play.
