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Chaosium Digest Volume 31 Number 09
Chaosium Digest Volume 31, Number 9
Date: Sunday, June 25, 2000
Number: 1 of 4
Contents:
* Using Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge (CTHULHU)
by Cullen Bunn
* Pulse Fear (CTHULHU)
by Michael Blenkarn
* Terror at Erne Rock (CTHULHU)
by RJCHRISTEN@aol.com
* The Events of one 2234 Water St. (CTHULHU)
by Chris Wilson
Editor's Note:
Seems that four people were not intimidated by Mr. Boyd's "The Books of Uncle
Silas" from a couple of issues ago. We have two excellent Call of Cthulhu
adventures, "Terror at Erne Rock" and "The events of one 2234 Water St." In
addition we have our first fiction submission "Pulse Fear" which deals with some
new beasties for the Mythos. Intended as an introduction for a sourcebook, the
author said that he might have some game stats to go along with his story in the
future. Topping off this great stack of submissions is an article on "Using
Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge" by Cullen Bunn, editor of Whispers from the Shattered
Forum, a small press horror magazine. As you can see, we've got a great issue
this time around! Enjoy.
As previously noted, all Call of Cthulhu, Elric! and Nephilim articles qualify
for the quarterly Chaosium Contest. Even though they don't count for the
contest, I still gladly accept Pendragon, Delta Green and Glorantha submissions.
The deadline for the next contest will be June 30th. The winner gets a copy of
the upcoming Call of Cthulhu Keepers Companion
http://www.chaosium.com/cthulhu/rpg/2388.shtml for their winning Cthulhu, Elric!
or Nephilim submission. So, keep those submissions coming!
Don't forget to vote for the Origins Awards!
ANNOUNCEMENTS
* From Chaosium:
The Keepers Screen FINALLY Shipping
Well our long delayed Keeper Screen (2387) was delayed a little
longer when our printer realized just how much work collating a
multi-panel screen with all those swell innards and rescheduled the
job. Currently, the Screen is expected to arrive this afternoon or
tomorrow. We expect the Screen to begin shipping by the end of the
week. Huzzah!
ORIGINS AWARDS
The Academy of Adventure Gaming Arts & Design and GAMA have announced
the nominees for this year's Origins Awards. You can view the
nominees and vote online at the Academy Webpage:
http://www.gama.org/academy/academy.html
We're pleased as punch to have our epic campaign Beyond The Mountains
of Madness (http://www.chaosium.com/cthulhu/rpg/2380.shtml) nominated
for Best Role-playing Adventure of 1999.
We're also very happy to see Pagan Publishing's Delta Green:
Countdown, nominated for Best Role-playing Supplement of 1999
I strongly encourage everyone out there to swing by the site Academy
site and cast your vote. These are the only awards our Industry gives
out so please participate!
* From Pagan Publishing
2001 MAY BE LAST YEAR OF PLANET EARTH
Cthulhu Calendar by John Coulthart & Alan Moore Could Chronicle Humanity's
Extinction! (Or Maybe Not)
SEATTLE -- Experts agree: 2001 will be a year with twelve months in it. This
unusual phenomenon requires an unusual calendar to keep the space-time continuum
straight. If the stars should come right, and Great Cthulhu walks the Earth,
well--what calendar could possibly appease Him?
THE 2001 CTHULHU CALENDAR, of course! Available in September, this 12"x12"
freakish piece of occult weirdness belongs on the wall of every sect, next to
the altar and the rusty binding-chains.
A calendar this sinister could not be produced without sinister minds, and
fortunately they have answered the call:
Illustrator John Coulthart provides the pictures. John's work has recently been
collected in THE HAUNTER OF THE DARK, from UK publisher Oneiros Books. He has
illustrated a number of Lovecraft stories and concepts, and his new painting
"Red Night Rites" appears as the wraparound cover to issue 16/17 of THE
UNSPEAKABLE OATH, shipping this summer from Pagan Publishing.
Writer Alan Moore provides the text. Moore is a comic-book legend for his work
on WATCHMEN, FROM HELL, THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN, and many other
titles. His recent explorations into higher planes of reality have led to his
examination of the Cthulhu Mythos from a Kabalistic perspective, resulting in a
set of strange and bewitching texts that accompany the illustrations.
THE 2001 CTHULHU CALENDAR includes a charming selection of important
Lovecraftian dates, assembled by Cthulhu Chronologist Guy Bock, so you won't
miss those extra-special gift-giving occasions.
The calendar will be released by Pagan Publishing's bookstore imprint, Armitage
House. The calendar will carry a suggested retail price of $13.95, product code
PAG3001. A sneak preview of the calendar is available at the publisher's
website:
http://www.tccorp.com/
* From Tim Wiseman
If time allows, please take a peak at my web-hosted adventure 'The Madman' at
http://www.geocities.com/wiseman_tim and let me know what you think. The
adventure (campaign?) requires just a little more work in the last couple of
chapters, which has been a little delayed as I have relocated from the US to the
UK in the last month. Please let me know what you think! I have put a lot of
time into this.
**Upcoming Releases from Chaosium**
JUNE
>CALL OF CTHULHU Keeper's Screen
#2387 $14.95 ISBN 1-56882-149-2
http://www.chaosium.com/cthulhu/rpg/2387.shtml
At the printer!
CALL OF CTHULHU KEEPERS (Keepers of Forbidden Lore) can now keep their
secrets in style. This new three panel Keeper's Screen is jam-packed
with vital GM information presented in any easy to use at a glance
format. The player's side of the screen features awesome Philippe Caza
artwork worthy of its own sanity check. This product includes a new
introductory scenario perfect for beginning investigators and keepers
alike, as well as three 4-page game aids (weapons table with an alien
weapons section, a new 4-page summary of rule book spells,
and some character sheet masters to jump-start your new Call of Cthulhu
game).
JULY
>The Yellow Sign & Other Tales
THE COMPLETE WEIRD FICTION OF ROBERT W. CHAMBERS
6023 $19.95 ISBN 1-56882-126-3
by Robert W. Chambers
http://www.chaosium.com/cthulhu/fiction/6023.shtml
This massive collection brings together, for the first time ever and
with much of the material unprinted since the 1890's, the entire body
of Robert W. Chambers' weird fiction work. Chambers is considered a
landmark author in the horror field for his _King in Yellow_
collection, but that is just a small part of his weird fiction
output. The Yellow Sign & Other Stories brings together tales from
five different Chambers collections, and also includes the novel _In
Search of the Unknown_ and an excerpt from the novel _The Tracer of
Lost Persons_. These stories are also connected to the Cthulhu
mythos, for they introduce concepts such as Hali, Hastur, and
Carcosa. Selected and edited by S.T. Joshi.
--------------------
Using Cthulhu Mythos Knowledge
By Cullen Bunn
The Cthulhu Mythos skill is one of the most interesting (and notorious) devices
of the Call of Cthulhu role-playing game. While it can prove to be an essential
talent for an investigator pursuing lengthy investigations into the mythos,
increasing one's aptitude in the skill presents dire consequences. The more
knowledge one possesses, the closer one draws to the brink of madness. No other
game illustrates more clearly how dangerous knowledge can become. As Lovecraft
wrote in the game's namesake story, ". . . the piecing together of dissociated
knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and our frightful
position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from
the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age." However, the
Cthulhu Mythos skill can present some difficulties for the Keeper, depending on
how it is used.
Take for example: an investigator has five points in Cthulhu Mythos after
encountering a Hunting Horror in his first exploration of the unknown. During a
later scenario, this investigator stumbles across a group of the Fungi from
Yuggoth-the Mi-Go. The Keeper takes great delight as the player rolls the
investigator's Occult skill to no avail. As the investigator's (and the
player's) terror and confusion mounts, the Keeper prepares to spring a few more
surprises. But the player calls for a Cthulhu Mythos skill roll and
subsequently rolls an 04%. Now the Keeper feels obliged to reveal a little more
information about the Mi-Go, and the investigator somehow understands that these
alien creatures are known to perform terrible operations and experimentation
upon hapless humans. This can ruin at least some of the tension in the game.
Additionally, to maintain a sense of realism and a suspension of disbelief, the
Keeper must also devise some connection between the Hunting Horror the
investigator encountered to earn the Cthulhu Mythos points and the Mi-Go-two
elements that were meant to be unrelated in the Keeper's campaign.
While there is nothing necessarily wrong with the mechanics of the Cthulhu Myths
skill as it is presented in the rulebook, there are some options available that
can enhance the game for players and Keepers alike.
First of all, the Keeper could decide to disallow players from rolling both
Occult and Cthulhu Mythos. Instead, the Cthulhu Mythos skill could interact
with the Occult skill similarly to the way in which Martial Arts interacts with
Fist/Punch. When you wish to see if an investigator understands the true
significance of a newly found artifact, for instance, roll only against the
investigator's Occult skill. If the roll succeeds, the Keeper may reveal some
tidbit of non-mythos information or may simply say, "During your occult
research, you have never come across something like this," letting the
investigator know that there is something more to the item. If the roll
succeeds and is lower than the investigator's Cthulhu Mythos skill, the Keeper
may reveal some of the artifact's Mythos significance. In this way, the two
skills work hand in hand. Remember, the Mythos have been around for a long
time, and while most people are unaware of things such as Shoggoths and Deep
Ones and Dholes, it seems likely that a character with a 90% Occult skill might
have stumbled across some small reference to the Mythos during their studies.
Perhaps their first encounter with a Mythos entity stirred something in their
subconscious. This option can help the Keeper explain how the investigator
knows something about the mind-numbing horror he is facing. It also cuts back
(ever so slightly) on the number of dice rolls being made during what might be a
frightening scene. While rolling dice and testing skill levels can add drama to
the game, doing so can also pause the game until the results are resolved.
Still, the Keeper faces the challenge of ruining some suspense or killing the
fear factor by revealing too much information when a successful Cthulhu Mythos
roll is made. If handled correctly, though, successfully understanding the
Mythos can be frightening as well. Writers will tell you that strong fiction
will "show not tell," and this concept can be applied to Call of Cthulhu as
well. Using the example above, our intrepid investigator has succeeded on a
Cthulhu Mythos roll. The keeper could simply state, "You remember a reference
to something similar to these creatures in one of the books you read in your
early days at school. You passed it off as fiction at the time, but the book
described these strange beings as not of this earth with a desire to experiment
and operate upon unsuspecting humans." Depending on the situation, this might
work fine. But imagine that the Keeper says nothing right away. Later, as the
investigator sleeps, he dreams that he is being held down in his bed by
pincer-like arms. The Mi-Go swarm around him, buzzing excitedly. Blood runs
down his face, stinging his eyes. As he watches, horrified, the Mi-Go lift his
brain from his skull, showing it to him! A sanity check would, of course, be
required as the investigator wakes, sitting bolt right in bed, with a new
understanding of the terrors that must be faced. This technique, like any
other, can be overdone, but hopefully it will give Keeper's some new ideas as to
how to present Mythos information.
These ideas are presented only as options for Keepers who may be finding the
Cthulhu Mythos skill a bit problematic. Other gamers may have already devised
their own methods for handling any problems they may have faced. It is
important to handle any given situation as logically as possible, thereby
maintaining realism to balance the fantastic. It is also important to maintain
an air of mystery, so that the players are kept guessing. By using some new
techniques, the Keeper can perhaps make the campaign a little more thrilling, a
little more frightening.
And that's the name of the game.
-------------------------
PULSE-FEAR
(Michael Blenkarn)
The office was unkempt and the rain pattered listlessly against the smeared
windows. I must freely confess that I was considerably impatient to get this
over with. Another dreary unfocused time I had been dragged from my comfortably
warm office and erudite musings on the raison d'être of the universe with the
cloudy, erroneous aid of some rather fine brandy. Another investigative task to
undertake on that wet and rainy February evening. The clouds were thick, grey,
threatening billows, which promised more rain to come, and the sun, going down
with its last hour of deep golden light is steadily receding. My sardonic
musings were concluded, luckily before I drowned in my own witty repartee.
A worried looking administrative worker bustled into the cramped room and seated
himself steadily at the chair opposite me, looking harried and anxious around
his receding chin. I only listened with half an ear as his irritatingly hesitant
murmuring decorated the room, my mind traversing somewhere else in a desperate
search for my hallowed alcohol and the saturnine demeanor it instilled in me.
The general gist of the one-sided conversation was that, with subtlety and
discretion uncommon to one such as me, I was to investigate the domicile of one
David Broussard. The unlikely suspect was an electrical designer, for this
rising company which my memory failed to put a name to even as I reposed in its
central premises.
The always-eccentric thirty-something designer had apparently been making
increasingly bizarre and draconian comments and demands, I gathered as my mind
circled back into the immediate social reality of the administrator's soliloquy.
His hair and beard prematurely greying and becoming infested with an unkempt
chaos, unfitting in one so anally retentive. With a characteristic lifted
wholesale from the most stereotypical administrator parody, the petty
disapproval inflicted irritation into my hirer's tone as he verbally documented
Broussard's systematic pilfering of low-level supplies and domestic appliances
from the offices and shop floor. It didn't surprise me that with such a manner
my investigative talents were required to sift through the house of this most
unprecedented employee any
more than I was surprised by his unwillingness to do such a task off his own
back. Truly the world had found a new stereotype to parody in the weak-minded
and officious cowardice of this prince of administration.
Wearily I parroted back his description of Broussard's house and my instructions
once across the threshold. The facets of my mind were unanimous in the decision
to disregard the instructions and wield the instincts that several years as an
investigator had given me in this delicate situation. His house, a wonderfully
eccentric display of good old fashioned English character, was a converted
church oddly resplendent in a dilapidated area of Brichester. I hadn't been to
Brichester since my father shot himself in our beautiful family home. I tried to
concentrate on the matter in hand. I was overjoyed to discover at this point
that my dear colleague had business to attend to and that his secretary, a
decidedly more down to earth proposition, was to conclude the interview.
In considerably more colloquial tones, which I could thankfully connect to, the
secretary elucidated me as to the intrigue wrapped up in this convoluted task.
Strange late night noises and uncannily electronic flashes had disturbed the
repose of the neighbourhood, until a sudden cessation of activity but a week
past, since which Broussard has seemed dead to the world or at least to his
employers. In increased agitation therefore the management selected me for this
not particularly formidable task in order to calculate the economic fluctuations
of their respective payrolls that were symptomatic of the apparent
loss of an extremely talented designer at the forefront of their operations. Of
the fee of course, I left no bargaining unbargained. The week's worth of notably
high payroll which would have been divested to Broussard had he been present and
working seemed fair enough to me. Concluding the bartering with a relief for not
having to out-math the absent administrator's probable accountancy gene, I
hesitated not in acceding to requests and subsequently set off upon an extended
journey to the old surroundings of
Brichester.
It was a long time finding the obscure lane that accommodated the lugubrious
abode of my quarry. When I finally did, the coppery sun was sinking into
iridescence westward in a fiery beauty of a sunset making the disproportionate
and mostly derelict houses around me skeletal and forbidding silhouettes. In the
dying light the converted church stood imposing and ominous, in a decrepit
rectangle of untended greenery. The sunset shone its calm and flickering glow
upon it, giving the gothic overtones and gloominess of the stonework a golden
sheen that seems incongruous.
Taking in the fragile and discordant beauty which sheathed the decrepitude in
strange and unearthly ways, I was a little reluctant to crunch up the short
litter strewn path to the imposing portal echoing silence back towards me. The
light suddenly reminded me of the beautiful day when my father had taken his own
life. I skirted quickly away from the recollection.
The door was bedecked with an ostentatious knocker, and to my quiet, closet
romanticist's joy, opened with a melodramatic funereal creak. Taking a deep
breath of the comparatively fresh air, stunned again by the still, almost
unsettling tranquillity of the area, I hastened inside to a routine
investigative task. As I thought.
My optimism wilted.
Dust was the first thing that drew my focused attention as I crossed the
threshold. There was a thick, choking carpet of it bestriding the splintered
planks, which were slightly warped and cracked with age and damp. The stifling
air was dry and eerily still, stale and tasting of age and negligence. The light
filtered weakly and dimly through a high, smeared and barred window at the far
end of the hall, a dirty yellowish pallor making the peeling paint on the walls
jaundiced and unhealthy looking. A fly buzzed ineffectually at the dirty pane,
weakly batting it, the sound seeming loud in the empty silence. Stairs, rickety
and unstable, climbed precariously up one side of the dusty and unwelcoming hall
to an unseen
landing, the ascent beginning at the other end of the hall and culminating just
above my head. Three doors, ill-fitting in their frames and cracked, scabrous
and blotched from lack of care and polish, were set into the uneven wall on the
right. A door inset into the space underneath the stairs themselves was held
firmly shut with a formidable if rusted padlock.
All this I digested in moments, my attention wavering over the details and
analyzing the sinister atmosphere. And sinister it was; I couldn't quite explain
why but uneasiness overtook me, and an uncharacteristic desire to seek the
comforts of the outside, an unwelcome voice that spoke warily through wreaths of
time from my childhood. I had investigated deserted houses before particularly
as a child, remembering the thrill of the forbidden. But then, youthful
exuberance and a rampant desire for exploration and knowledge had powered my
steps, not least a healthy dash of adrenaline, all things that I thought the
alcohol had drowned long ago.
The door swung shut behind me. I ignored it, and though a slight strangeness in
the click as it closed bothered some secluded, more energetic part of me, it was
soon drowned out by the oddity of my new environment.
Shaking my head ruefully at the unaccustomed feelings, I begin to tread lightly
through the dust with quiet, disconnected confidence. The childish voice of
fright was fogged out by the assurance of professionalism. Here I was in my
element; silently stalking for not lives like an assassin but information, the
thrill of investigation reawakened in me. I suppose the flicker of elation and
childishness had awakened the old enjoyment when this was all new to me and I
had not experience enough to be as wary as I should be. Ambiguous as it was I
tried to catch the lucidity of the experienced professional in me and make it
focus the once-familiar feelings into a hardness of diamond, to create an
equilibrium for my own advantage.
As this passed through my focused and attuned mind I had sidled quietly to the
first doorway I came to and testily, tentatively tried the loosely and
unattended door-handle. It rattled like the crack of broken bones in the
unsettling silence and exasperation followed my wincing as I stoically tried to
open the door slowly and quietly. The room contained no life and my heart
fluttered back into a steadier momentum. Where had this fear sprung from?
The numerous rudiments of relaxation littered the room in profusion. A sense of
character permeated it unlike the deadness of the hallway, which I was grateful
for. The bookshelves were shoddy affairs, little more than planks nailed
together, and the books filling them were worn, crumpled with damp and decidedly
the worse for wear. A couple of armchairs projecting stuffing slowly but
steadily from wide and frayed slashes stood facing an archaic and battered
looking television set, more than likely an ancient monochrome affair. There was
no evidence of over-emphasized piety and no totem-like religious artifacts
cluttering the space, which made me a little more comfortable. However, strange
and compelling sculptures stood in bizarre postures on the crooked and peeling
mantelpiece. Their oddity made my eyes water to try and look to closely at them.
In my mind I tried to correlate the personality of Broussard with such a squalid
display of dejection. I couldn't. The sinister atmosphere clung uncomfortably to
me still and desperately tried to draw my mind into the easy, disconnected
blankness, which had made me one of the best in the business. Even the slightest
crackle of discarded papers under my feet, crisped with age, made me spin
jerkily on my feet almost in a fighting crouch, hands shaking convulsively for
no discernible reason. I searched my hip for my small revolver and found it,
clamping my left hand comfortingly but readily over it. I leafed through the
cracking pages of one book upon the incongruous shelves. An unfamiliar language
stared back at me, mirroring my incomprehension. I turned page after page,
almost desperate to find anything to suggest Broussard to be an Englishman I
could relate to, and when a different sort of crackle entered my life, I barely
flinched. I was enthralled in the book for several seconds before the
implications of that crackle battered through to my muddled consciousness. I
hastily dropped the book and its hypnotic influence and with a practiced
movement drew my revolver and spun on my heel.
The room was as empty as before.
But the television flickered with life.
--
