# [d20 CoC] Nightfall on Planet Earth



## Hurtoc (Jun 1, 2003)

Nightfall on Planet Earth is my first d20 Call of Cthulhu scenario, in fact the first CoC game I've GM'd. The game begins in Boston, 1930. I invited 3 players to join and they graciously accepted. I ran a 4th party member as an NPC. Characters were pre-generated by me.

The characters are:
Philip Howard, Private Eye, played by Al
"Iron Jaw" Jim Smith, Musician, played by Dave
Riley Grossbart, Student, played by Jason
Alice Hargreaves, Nurse, played by the GM

Game website is here.

The game began in April 2002 and met with some periods of delay, but we are now closing in on the endgame, and while the posts are available online through MSN Groups, I thought it would be good to share through Story Hour; it's been a fun story with good players.


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## Hurtoc (Jun 1, 2003)

*At the home of Professor Irving Hahn*

(Note, I am re-posting here my in-game posts, so you'll note that GM posts address the post to "you" meaning the party.)

March 3, 1930

You are taken from the train station or your residence by taxi to Professor Hahn’s central Boston townhouse. There, in an upscale street, you find yourselves entering the brick townhouse in the early afternoon.

Marcus Marconi, Prof. Hahn’s lawyer and estate executor, welcomes you in turn and guides you into the home’s library. There you are able to find comfort in an array of leather chairs while Marconi props himself against a large desk.

“Thank you for coming. I have read a portion of the will earlier this morning to various relations of the Professor’s; cousins, aunts, unlces. But the bulk Professor Hahn’s will involved the four of you, and I am hear to read it to you now.”

Marconi stands and pulls a paper from his suit pocket. He is tall, middle-aged and friendly and his suit is rather nice. Before reading, though, he turns to each of you.

“Ah, but of course, you’ve never met one another. Allow me. Here, this is Riley Grossbart, a student at nearby Miskatonic University and one who worked under Prof. Hahn’s tutelage. And here we have Philip Howard, an investigator from New York. Remind me to buy you a new tie,” he adds with a wry smile. “The young lady is Alice Hargreaves, a nurse here in Boston who was of great comfort to the Professor in his recent stay in hospital. And finally, Mr. Jim “Iron Jaw” Smith, the renowned musician.”

You think for a moment about what the four of you could have in common to have been included in the will of the Professor. Marconi unfolds the paper and begins to read, hopefully answering your questions.

“Dear friends,” he begins. “Thank you for coming today. Each of you has helped me in turn, in some way or another, and your compassion and aide have made a mark with me. I have been informed by the doctors that my life will come to a sudden end and nothing can be done. While this would normally shock a person, I find myself overcome with a sense of rest at last. But my work is unfinished.”

“As Professor of both History and Mathematics, my interests are myriad and have taken me all over the world. Last year I took a sabbatical but when I returned, I could not recall what I had done during that time; where I had been, whom I had been with, nothing. Riley, you may remember me being curt with you when you asked how the year had progressed; well now I can truthfully say I was short with you because I did not know. I simply found myself back here at my home, the calendar advanced by one year! I began to retrace my steps, locating ticket stubs, newspapers, notes and anything I could find in my house and luggage. There was a puzzle here, a map of event I might be able to reconstruct. I needed help and sought out Mr. Philip Howard, a private investigator. He has helped piece together part of the story.”

“Apparently I spent time abroad, in Egypt and even on Smythe’s recent trip to Antarctica. How or why I was visiting these places was unanswered.” At this point Marconi pauses from reading the will. His hand waves to a framed photo on the wall. It depicts a sailing vessel in the cold waters off of Antarctica.

Marconi continues. “Soon it became apparent to me that my trips and meetings during 1929 were an attempt to bring together seemingly disparate historical and scientific information together in a new research paper I would publish; as I retraced my steps with Mr. Howard’s help, I uncovered handwritten notes that I myself had penned. The subject of these notes was bizarre and at first unwelcome; a lot of incoherent or incomplete ramblings, hard to put together but forming some kind of knowledge. I uncovered 2 pages of notes but I know there are 5 such pages total. These 2 pages I sent to Riley to review, perhaps he has made some sense of them. Alas my sudden and catastrophic illness has come too early for me to complete this work.”

Marconi’s eyes look over the paper for a moment at each of you. “My bequest to you four who have helped me so much recently, perhaps in ways unknown to you, is to complete my research; locate the remaining pages of notes and have them published. Because these notes have found themselves scattered, I will need you to travel, all expenses paid of course, to retrieve them using any methods you see fit. I feel this case is strange enough to demand the different talents each of you has to offer. As compensation for your work, when all 5 pages of notes are returned to my lawyer Mr. Marcus Marconi, each of you will receive payment from my estate a sum of $400,000.”

Marconi is silent as he folds the paper into his pocket. “I have made arrangements for you if you wish to agree to Prof. Hahn’s bequest. But before you answer, please enjoy some refreshments in the hall.”

Outside the library in a wide, dark-wood paneled hall you find hors d'oeuvres and chilled wine waiting for you. 

You see that Alice isn’t interested in the food; she looks at the rest of you and says, “This is very strange, what do you make of it?”


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## Hurtoc (Jun 1, 2003)

*By the way...*

So let me know if it's bad form to post to Story Hour a game that's already posted online elsewhere. I figured fans of Story Hour and EN World would find this venue the most accessible.


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## Elemental (Jun 2, 2003)

*Re: By the way...*

The style of narration is certainly novel. I'll keep an eye on this one, and see how it progresses.


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## Hurtoc (Jun 2, 2003)

*Continued...*

[Riley]

Riley moves over to the table and pours himself some wine.

"An intriguing puzzle, that is certain."  He takes a sip.  "Luckily, I enjoy a good puzzle," he says, smiling, then takes a longer drink.  He eyes the food, but doesn't take anything, instead turning back to face the group.

"As Mr. Marconi stated earlier, my name is Riley Grossbart.  Professor Hahn was my mentor, so it is not surprising that I am here to take on this riddle.  I can also understand the link between you, Ms. Hargreaves, and the Professor, although I'm not sure why he would tax you with this.  Mr. Howard's relationship has already been explained by Mr. Marconi's reading of the will, but I am curious about the relationship Mr. Smith had with him, as well as what his involvement with this is."

Riley rubs his finger over his glass rim, swirling the contents slightly, looking towards Jim Smith expectantly.

[Iron Jaw]

Jim Smith seems out of his element but comfortable at the same time, in fact he seems like he would be comfortable almost anywhere.   The most striking thing about him is in fact the feature that gave him his nickname, his jaw is pronounced and muscular you suspect from his years behind a sax.  He looks to the man who addressed him, his hands are in his pockets as he says " Well, I hardly knew him.  I spent a little time at his pad, he met me down at the club and said he liked my music... that it gave him some peace of mind. "  He flashes a bright smile, " But hell, I don't know why he would want to leave me $400 grand, but I'm not complainin'." 

[Phil]

Phil  momentarily appraises Riley's interest in wine.

"I don't much care for it," he says absently, while sniffing about the table for a bottle of Scotch.  Philip Howard hasn't touched wine since France in 1918.  And that's why.  

But anyone can see he has touched plenty of Scotch.

He finds near the back of the table that the Professor had not forgotten him.  The shot he pours is more than generous, and probably more than genteel under the circumstances.

As if he cares.

"$400,000 is a lot of dough.  And I don't hear his relatives squawking about it going to strangers, either," he adds pointedly.  It's not good business for a detective to get too breezy in front of clients, but Phil appears entirely comfortable with these younger people.

Phil's brown eyes rivet each of the other guests in rapid turn.  Eyes that search, but eyes that reassure.

"Before the Great Crash, New York was bulging with documents that the wealthy gents called 'valuable', and you'd be amazed how many of those documents could just grow legs and start walkin'.  I had a good trade in getting them back."  

Phil hopes his voice didn't betray just how much emphasis his heart felt on that word "had". 

"I think we can find some notes that no one really wants easy enough."

He downs his shot as if already toasting a life of ease in Havana.

[Riley]

Riley continues to swirl the wine, not really drinking it.  He pauses for several moments, thinking.

"Well, there is obviously reasoning that we can't see.  But I must agree with Mr. Howard's assessment.  Finding a few notes shouldn't be too difficult, provided we have clues as to where they may be found.  I trust that Mr. Howard and Mr. Marconi already have a destination in mind to look first.  I am rather curious what was found in both Egypt and Antartica.  Perhaps Mr. Howard can fill us in on what he has already uncovered in his investigations."

He hesitates once again, then continues, "A whole year without memories.  It is rather peculiar."

He turns and looks at Alice.

"Ms. Hargreaves, you were the Professor's nurse.  What was his cause of death?  Did he have any type of head trauma or some other indication of amnesia to account for that lost year?"


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## Hurtoc (Jun 6, 2003)

*Where do we start?*

[Hurtoc's note to Story Hour readers: I am going to include OOC comments from the game; below for example I ask for Initiative]

Alice nibbles on some cheese before saying, "Professor Hahn didn’t tell me of his memory problem. Amnesia is possible, but it is strange at least to discover an entire year has elapsed without you remembering anything! But I have seen some odd things in my years as a nurse, and this wouldn’t surprise me."

"$400,000 is a king's bounty, and this sounds something like an adventure. I think we should go and see where it takes us. Mr. Hahn was very kind. Well, at first, when he came to the hospital, he was a bit cranky and agitated. His first night was restless. But he soon came to lighten up and found his last days there to be very relaxed. Alas, his cause of death seemed to be from having lived beyond his physical means. During this lost year, he must have been in one challenging environment to another, and at the age of 62, his body wasn't able to keep up. A number of internal problems came together to spell his death. In his final days I talked with him and found he had a lot of spirit, though, and I think it rubbed off on me."

Alice smiles at this and Marconi summons you back to the study. He says, "It sounds like you guys are on board. Can't say I blame you; I think I'd like to go, even without the big prize at the end. But I will be staying here; you can contact me by wire if you need anything."

He picks up an envelope from the desk. "As for your destination, you will be heading across the Atlantic, to Huddersfield in England. I've boooked passage on the cargo ship "Rainbow's Gold"; it was the vessel Prof. Hahn took on his journeys East. They have only a few staterooms, making the trip more private."

"When your reach the Isles, you'll take a train to Huddersfield and stay at the Lockwood Manor. Lord Lockwood was a friend to Prof. Hahn and Hahn believed the 3rd page of notes was entrusted to the Lockwood house. However, Lord Lockwood also passed on recently, and his son, the new Lord Lockwood, is keeper of the house. But he is expecting you and all arrangements are made. Lockwood Manor has a library of very old and rare books, and it is there I believe you will find the next page of the Professor's notes."

Mr. Marconi also passes out three hundred dollars to each of you for any unexpected expenses and to purchase sundries. 

A streetcar takes you to the docks where you are dropped near the loading ramp for the "Rainbow's Gold". No one is there to help with bags or great you; this isn't a passenger liner. However, the ramp is there so you'll use it. 

Paying the cabbie you grab your bags; all you have are your simple belongings ad an extra set of clothes, not having expected an extended trip. Approaching the boat you see it is large and new, with smokestacks jutting up from the center and a crane resting now but able to move large loads in and out of holding areas.

Suddenly, from behind nearby boxes, three men in black suits appear. They look a bit scruffy and quickly each produces a knife! The tall one says, "You're not getting on that boat, friends! And hand over your goods!"

OOC: Everyone should roll initiative, even if you aim to resolve this without combat.


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## Hurtoc (Jun 6, 2003)

*Continued...*

[Iron Jaw]

As the men appear Iron Jaw is quick to act, he drops his bags to the ground and pulls his own knife.  It is a sleek black switch blad and as it clicks open you get the idea he has used it before.  His posture changes as he bends his knees and raises the knife in front of him, " You may get that bag boy, but you're gonna bleed for it...."  The look on his face matches the hardness in his voice....

OOC: 14 is my init

[Phil]

Phil had expected Boston Harbor to have a few rats.  Opium smokers, derelict foreign sailors trying to jump ship, and just plain salty old drunks.  But toughs in suits hadn't been on his short list of cheap hoods.

His brown eyes flash as the big revolver comes out of his overcoat pocket.  They search the mug of the mouthy guy in front.  The sound of a hammer cocking all the way back will make most ordinary rats flinch, but if the crook knows how to throw a knife, then it's more like an invitation.  What color rat does he have here?  Phil is about to find out quick.

Phil hopes that these guys are Boston "paesanos" of some of his familiar New York Mafiosi.  He scans their faces for a family resemblence.  They don't impress Phil as bright enough to dream up many capers on their own, so a detective's job is to jump in and start detecting.

"Keep your paws where I can see 'em!  And tell me where you got the big idea."

---------------------------------------------
OOC:  Initiative = 14   This is an Intimidation attempt;  but if we have any knife-throwers in the crowd,  the fireworks will begin!  If the crooks panic and break-off running, then I won't pursue; rather, I'll look toward the street to make CERTAIN no back-up men with Tommy guns are standing on the running boards of a passing car.   

[Riley]

Riley steps back, sheilding Alice as best he can, but letting the other two step forward.  He decides not to say anything, seeing that the situation is well in hand from the other two, and being more of a scholarly sort.  He reaches into the pocket of his overcoat, fingering the pen-knife that is there just in case...

OOC: Init = 9


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## Hurtoc (Jun 6, 2003)

*Take it easy*

[Phil rolls 24 for his Intimidation check]

Iron Jaw and Philip react quickly to the threat and take position. Philip’s gun is trained on the lead goon whose eyes grow just a little larger when they see the pistol.

“Listen mac, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he spits out. You can feel that he doesn’t like it when he’s not in control, and he knows Philip isn’t a joker.

“You can keep your bags, just get lost, we don’t want to see your pusses again around here.”

The thugs make no move to attack yet and seem to be sizing up the threat of the party. Philip looks at the main guy again; hey, isn't that Franco, a small time hood from the Bronx? You roughed him up one November not so long ago, perhaps he forgot about it. He was trying to put the squeeze on an informant of yours. Now you know where he ran to after you were done with him.


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