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Found 4 results

  1. OOC thread for this thread. Can Christopher unravel a fiendish plot, and escape the knives of God's vengeance? @Spacefurry
  2. January 30th, 2022, Sunday, 3PM Harold Hitspike's panic room, Hitspike Heuristics, 27th floor of 1386 Pittsburgh Ave., Freedom City, New Jersey, USA, Earth "So as you can see, Mr. Daye," bluff, red-haired young Hagar Hitspike nodded at the charred skeleton in the centre of the pentagram, surrounded by an otherwise spotless and undisturbed steel panic room, "this is a little outside of our understanding." Despite being a good foot shorter than Christopher and swathed about the middle in a long bath towel, the man looked both composed and solemn. His brother and sister, standing nearby, nodded vigrously. The towering, gaunt-faced, gold-haired woman who'd introduced herself as Hildegard wiped a tear from her eye with her green silk dress's sleeve, adding in a voice trembling with dismay "Yes! Father never trafficked with the hellish forces of the underworld! Me and Baby Harry knew all his business dealings. This is all some terrible frame-up job!" "Yes, uh...ah...hm..." White-haired, portly Harold Jr. was too stunned to say anything intelligible, and the man stumbled to his father's desk back in the rich wood-paneled office to sit down. "Now I understand this has been a little disorienting," Hagar said with an apologetic look somewhere under his dripping hair and beard, "seeing as we have for some unaccountable reason all stepped into this room at the same time from different places. God knows I didn't expect to come out of the shower and see my father a charred-black skeleton. But we can pay handsomely and the police stopped taking our calls years ago. So, well..." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. His sister stepped around the puddle forming at Hagar's feet to seize one of Christopher's hands with her own, her long nails and tough skin creating the effect of being grasped in the talons of some huge bird of prey. "I can't think of anyone else who could get to the bottom of this, Mr. Daye! Please, if you possibly can, find out what happened! What killed our father, and why?!"
  3. GM April 20th, 2020, 4.45PM Blackstaff Investigations, Emerald City(Oregon), USA Vang flew unceremoniously across the office, propelled by a contemptuous backhand from the towering spirit. Baring its claws, slaver dripping from the mouths in its palms and white eyes rolling up and down along its arms, the horror turned on Blackstaff! "You see!" Vang yelled, pain and triumph mingled in the old man's voice, "I told you they were after me! They don't want you finding Soap!" This was sufficiently obvious that only the stress of the situation kept it from being comical. The wall behind Christopher's desk was shattered inward now, the warm afternoon air rushing pleasantly into the office with that Pacific Ocean salt tang. What had seemed like a simple enough case, finding a young shopkeeper in the Eastern District who had recently vanished into the twisted warrens of the District interior, had certainly taken a turn for the vicious. A saving grace was that the wards had peeled off most of the shells of shining gold armor that had bolstered the thing. Underneath, it looked thin and malnourished, the featureless head lolling and twitching as it got a bead on the occult investigator.
  4. OOC thread for this thread. Blackstaff dodges ghosts and ghouls tracking a missing person. @Spacefurry Initiative, please. The Yaoguai's using the Bruise Demon block from Book of Magic pg.85. Its initiative roll is: 13.
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