Talkhaus IRC Call of Cthulhu RPG recruitment thread! \o/

[UnclePutte]

Tekeli-li! Teke-li! Teke-li!

[UnclePutte]

Remember, Fluffi et al - if IRC is being a jerk, just go straight to https://rolz.org/dr?room=Call%20of%20Cthulhu%20Talkhaus !

[Mikkofier]

Remember, Fluffi et al - if IRC is being a jerk, just go straight to https://rolz.org/dr?room=Call%20of%20Cthulhu%20Talkhaus !

I recommend editing the OP to include that link.

[UnclePutte]

Ambiguous Sunday game status alart! I'll be visiting up north for my niece's birthday, and I *may* show up late for the game! I hope y'all can forgive me the (possible) delay. If it's inconvenient, we can also reschedule.

Also, hyuck hyuck. I finally learned to use these rascally images and spoilers, so I'll be sure to exploit them to the extreme now.

[spittySynthyHands]

It's alright. Birthdays only happen once a year, you know? And your niece will appreciate it, I'm sure.

[Sorel]

I wouldn't mind if we call off the session anyway. More time to work on my CC12 is always appreciated.

[UnclePutte]

Righto, then. We'll waive Sunday's game, and have a day off.

[UnclePutte]

How's next Sunday for everyone? I at least managed to get that day free, by sheer luck, as my father decided to celebrate his birthday on Saturday instead of the more official Sunday.

Frankly, this part of the year is what I like to call "the birthday streak", and it lasts to the end of May. Several times a month someone in the family hits their b-day, and as presents and flowers go at a pace of 20-50€ per celebration, I end up feeling well spent once it's all said and done.

Speaking of birthdays - am I correct in remembering that our first game was on 1st of March, 2015? In that case, in a mere 15 days - 2 weeks and 1 day - we will be celebrating the first birthday of Talkhaus Call of Cthulhu: Curse of the Dogman! :o

[Sorel]

next sunday should work.

[Sorel]

correction: unexpected visit is unexpected. I will most likely not show up today. Sorry.

[UnclePutte]

Right, we kinda canned yesterday. I started writing the whole story thinger now. I'll post the first part here initially, but after that, I wonder - how should I present it? In a separate thread, as a like, serial story? Or would that crowd the gazebo too much? I think it'd be nice if I could make it a talkhaus public entertainment thingy, but I dunno, I don't trust my writing abilities enough to keep people entertained.

Oh well, here goes. Curse of the Dogman, chapter the first, part one!

Monday, 13th of March, 1922. Northside. The day had dawned on a foggy, overcast note, in true Arkham spring tradition.
Ron Cowell, a heavy-set thirty-something man with a curly red beard and wire-rim spectacles, reclined on his favourite chair in his
small corner room in the Arkham Advertiser offices, made even smaller by the cluttered sheafs of paper and discarded frontpage drafts.
The smell of coffee and old cigar smoke permeate the room, and the air was a bluish haze in the little light that filtered through the windows.
The dingy smell and half-darkness were starkly reminiscent of the den of a large, hibernating animal after a long quiet winter.

There was a rap on the door, right on time. Cowell ran a palm across his face, scuffed his shirt front just in case, and stubbed out his cigar. "Enter",
he croaked, discarding his early morning haziness and donning his "chief editor frown". It felt like a charade, but traditions of authority ran deep.
A mixed group of people filed in, formíng a rough double row before his desk.

"Right, then.", he said, giving each comer a cursory glance. The big bald man at the back looked like a longshoreman, but chipper enough. There was a petite young
woman, a bare-faced kid, and Jones. Jones was the only professional reporter of the lot, as far as Cowell could tell, and the whole posse was his friends rustled
up to help him get back on the job. Clive had mentioned the guy's plight - he hadn't been the same ever since being injured in Somme - and Cowell felt confident he
could afford to hand out a small job to see if he was still up to the task.

But then there was the last guy. He was young, tidily dressed, even slightly affluent-seeming, but... the mask. He wore a mask of the kind that Cowell couldn't
remember ever seeing outside of museum exhibits, the occasional world fair show, or fleeting glimpses in feverish midsummer dreams. The latter confused him,
and beneath his conscious mind, he made to ignore it and bury it where all the other unnecessary, inconvenient parts of life go. The lad with the mask must have
had his reason. Maybe he was a special kind of mime, or there were religious reasons to it, or so the excuses flitted along. He focused on Jones again, and a mouthful
of long-cooled coffee.

"I heard Clive roped you lot into covering the Dogman story. Pay's 50$ a day, plus reasonable expenses, cut that as you will.
I'm looking forward to printing a story a week from now. Frankly, I don't expect the guy to be on the loose any longer than that, so you might as well
consider it a deadline."

50 dollars a day were, frankly, an unreasonable expense for a tabloid story, but Clive and a few other boys in the office had insisted. God-damn pinko socialists, he
thought, but his heart wasn't in with the ire. The great mess-up of 1914, when the entire western world swallowed its brain, crapped its bed and summarily massacred a
generation of its finest children, was something everyone still remembered. Some more intimately than others. Money was money, but chances to salvage souls from the maw of
the mad tragedy didn't come often. 'He'll shape up to be a good reporter if I give him a chance', Cowell monologued internally.

The tall, goofy one in the back nodded with enthusiasm, his moustachioed bald head bobbing like a seal surfacing and diving again. "Sounds perfectly reasonable to
me", Jones replied. His voice was outright rusty. Chlorine or mustard gas, maybe, Cowell risked a guess.

"Now, I'm not going to tell you how to handle your business, since you're all professionals, but I must remind you to not upset people. You're working on the Advertiser's
dollar, so what you do reflects on us. I'm handing you a set of part-time press badges, though - they're with an expiry date at the end of the month. Don't make me regret
that."

Jones was the first to reply. "Won't be a problem, sir". "We will not disappoint you, sir", said the lad in the mask. An accent - French? "No worries there Mr. Cowell!
Consumate professionals, us! Hawr hawr!", bellowed the big one, full of energy. Some of it caught to the young fop, and he followed in tone "We're on the case!"

Cowell suddenly felt tired again. Enough for coffee, he decided. 'I'll have a nap once I shoo these keystone kops off on their way'. "Great. I'm glad we're all on the
same page", he said aloud.

The tromping of five pairs of feet disappeared down the hall, leaving Cowell to his own devices. "Well, what's the worst that could come of it?", he thought out
aloud.

[Mikkofier]

Looking good!
I think a separate thread would be good for visibility.

[UnclePutte]

Hmm. I am not sure about how and where though. I originally thought of making the game a youtube video series of sorts, but that's on the shelf for now as I prioritize writing it all out.

Well, I'll take suggestions certainly. For now I'll just piece it all together and post here, while waiting for a better idea.

[spittySynthyHands]

I think it's a pretty nice intro. Although, I do think it's going to be a bit buried if you present it here. That said, I don't actually know where you'd put it. The art showcase, perhaps?

Err, I'm also not going to be able to make it this sunday, since I'll be traveling. I don't think the basic plan has changed though, so, err, I do that I suppose.

[UnclePutte]

Yeah. For Jones, I think it was "jump out of the window".

Are you guys okay with playing with just the two of you, Fluffi and Mikko, or shall we extend the hiatus? I'll channel my energy to writing the prosaic form of the adventure out instead, if so.

[Sorel]

I'm fine with just 2 players.

[UnclePutte]

Alright, I'll presume Mikkofier's silence means assent! We'll play today, usual place, usual time.

[UnclePutte]

The party survives again - or do they? The fate of Jones Frederick Stoneson remains unknown! Dun dun duuunnn~!

[Mikkofier]

Dropping an overweight person from high places.

[UnclePutte]

Twice. Gotta remember that. Twice.

He was terrified too. You really did a heroic job with him.

Edit: I just had the mailman summarily dump a copy of Gou Tanabe's manga "The Hound" - a small collection of comics based on the works of Lovecraft. I heartily recommend, and more than that, I suspect I shall be drawing inspiration from it~ uhehehe~~

[UnclePutte]

Bad news everyone. I slept scarcely a wink, and am feeling quite thoroughly rekt as a result. I don't think I can run the game today. I'm sure I'll be in better shape a week from now, so I hope you all look forward to it~

Edit: Also, I forgot - happy first Cthulhu anniversary! We started on 1st of March, 2015, I think! Thank you so much for sticking with ol' Putte this far!

[Bedlam]

Yo, I' be happy to join in. I'm in EST, so these games'd be taking place around 11AM for me. Also, the rule links and stuff on yer' first post are busted~

[Mikkofier]

I think we're in a decent enough spot to introduce new characters.

[UnclePutte]

Indeed! We're working to get the character done for tomorrow. And in the meantime, Jonesy's building a new spare character too.

Let's see what we'll get on Sunday, 16:00 GMT!

[Mikkofier]

My characters keep being sent to the hospital in critical condition