DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Horror ACS: Achtung! Cthulhu - The Black Sun ACS: The Drop

You are surveying the darkened French countryside from the open door of an airplane. For most of your flight over France, it has been cloudy and still. Once you entered the Rouen area, however, the wind picked up, accompanied by heavy rain and thunderous clouds. The airman by the door is now making final checks, compensating for the sudden onset of the storm that’s been brewing since you entered this area. When he seems satisfied, he nods in your direction. Holding up a hand with three outstretched fingers, the airman mouths the words,

“Three minutes to drop.”

You have been dispatched here in response to a coded message from Aramis, a local resistance leader located southwest of Rouen. His message was cut off mid-transmission but seemed to contain a dire warning about a Black Sun Master, and Section M has sent your team to find out more. Your orders are simple: find Aramis, investigate the Black Sun activity, and eliminate any immediate threats. If Aramis has survived, he may be found to the northeast of the village where the resistance has safehouses. You will use a code phrase to identify him. He will ask in English for a cigarette, and you are to respond, ‘I only have Lucky Strikes.’

"You will also meet a resistance operative named Isabella Schneider. Treat her with care, and she may be a double agent, as she is an Austrian citizen. Yet she has been useful to date, and her archeological knowledge may prove very useful against The Black Sun operation. She could be on the level as well."

The report that put you on a plane over occupied France was simple, ‘Black Sun officer Jans Stöller spotted lorries of gear arriving in the village. Black Sun's presence in the village of Saint Sulac. Garrison… ‘. Evidently, the name of this Black Sun operative was enough to warrant throwing this team together and sending you across the Channel.

As you are recalling these events, the light turns green, and you line up, ready to jump from the plane. As you look out of the open side door, you can see dark clouds, hear the resonating thunder, and then the sudden flash of lighting. The rain almost obscures your vision at this height, and something about this storm feels wrong. It’s too sudden, with no warning and dark clouds seem to have coalesced directly over the village—and only there. Before you can ponder this strange occurrence, the airman signals the first drop; the storm is playing havoc with the plane’s instruments, and they must clear the area as soon as possible.

[OOC: Please introduce your character, the other pregens will also make the jump with you. Though for some reason they are wearing red undershirts. This is Captain Swann's 100th jump he is a old hat at this kind of a thing, as such his difficulty is 0. He doesn't have to make the roll, though can do so to see if Momentum is generated. The advantage for doing so is the Momentum generated can help other characters with their jump.

The Canadian though should roll Agility + Athletics test (2d20), difficulty 1. Which means only 1 success is needed to make the jump. The roll is under the Attribute + Skill, with 1 being a critical success. If you had an appropriate speciality in Athletics (Parachuting for example) then any die that rolled less than the skill is also a critical success (worth 2 successes).

Isabella will meet them on the ground, so we can get started while Lionhawke recovers.]

Jean-Jacques Lupien

The bear-sized, bearded man was clearly uncomfortable. The parachute shoulder straps seems stretched to their limit over the thick wool clothing the man wore on his large frame. Even the dog, Crook, strapped in with the Australian Corporal Sarah Walker, seemed more at ease. He was last in line for the drop, behind them.

He took a pull off his canteen and muttered, "J’ai le feu au cul! They send me on this vindage of a mission as demolition and extraction. They don't say nothing about no jumping out of an airplane! I am a boatman! I am a loon. I am no goose!"

"Crikey, keep yehr gahrters on, mate," said the Corporal. "Yehr scahrin me dog. Ah was catchin a snoozer during the introducin, whatcher say yehr name was?"

"Royal Canadian Seaman Jean-Jacques Lupien, of Quebec," the man answered, "They say they need someone good with boats, who keeps quiet, who can speak French, so I say I'm your man. They say nothing about jumping out of no plane."

"Heh, welcome to Section M," said the little American ahead of Corporal Walker, the mechanic, Private Dan Gregg. He smiled mirthlessly, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

Also in the crew were Sven Nilsen the humorless Norwegian archer with various pagan religious icons, Agent Daphne Rogers, a young Brit who didn't seem like a soldier, and their leader, Captain James Swann from Trinidad. Jean-Jacques didn't mind the quirkiness of the small cadre, he'd lived most of his life with strange assortments of people, including helping to manage a traveling freak show through New England in the States after he'd "gone straight" after Prohibition ended and there was no work needed for the best bootlegger in the Northeast. He'd seen a lot of weird stuff over his life and that was partially why he'd been recruited to Section M. This crew was better than a standard regiment or a battleship but again, he reminded himself, no one said they'd have to jump out of a plane.

He really did not trust that the parachute that looked as big as a handkerchief to him would be able to slow his descent enough. He hefted his axe, which he trusted more than the Welrod MLIIA in his belt, and tried to hold his tongue after a sharp glance from Nilsen until it was his turn to jump.

Approaching the bay doors, he remembered the instructions that had been quickly given to him. He shuddered as the lightning and thunder flashed and sounded close as the pilot yelled at him to go. "It's going to be a short tour for me if this don't work," he muttered. "But maybe I at least land on a Nazi or two."

He unhooked himself from the tether and leapt into the storm.


Jean-Jacques rolls 2d20
I rolled a 17 and a 10
His Agility is 9 and Athletics is +1 so I think target is 10.
You said to roll under but the rules seem to indicate it is equal to or less for a success? If so, then that's 1 success.

[OOC: Absolutely correct! The system is roll under, each die counted against Attribute + Skill for a success. 1 is a critical success, 20 a critical failure (though think of the failure as more something interesting happens, not catastrophic failure). In addition of one has a specialty in the skill that fits, then the skill adds additional critical success options like 3 in Athletics (Parachuting) means 1 - 4 is a critical success.

For this jump only 1 success is needed. Though the Commander doesn't need any successes as he has a truth that "Veteran Commando" which means he has had plenty of jumps to be considered an expert. Though Ken can choose to roll and any successes he gets count as above what is needed, ie count towards Momentum.

I will talk about Momentum and Threat as they come into play.

Wonderful post! Love the addition of the period era pistol that I knew nothing about!]

The rain stung like little insects trying to burrow into their skins as they fell through the black night. The wind howled, almost masking the snap of canvas as the chutes opened one by one. A momentary flash of lightning across the sky threatened to reveal their clandestine insertion, but if anyone noticed, there were no signs of it.

Chutes blew this way and that, only the experienced commander seemed immune to the gale. Dropping with complete control, and a stiff upper lip as is the British way.

The private was the first to hit the ground. He landed fine, his chute collasping over him like a rain soaked sheet.

Agent Rogers wasn't so lucky. She was blown off course and a couple of the little assault force saw her get tangled up in some trees.

Once on the ground, they all knew rendevous first, so they could help each other on their way to the little village of Saint Sulac.

They should meet their contact the Austrian someplace between were they just landed and the town.

[OOC: One player in the drop group should make a Reason + Survival (Roll 2d20). Anyone wishing to help out, can roll a single d20, against Reason + Survival, and if a success it will be added to the attempt to find their way to the village. This is a Difficulty 3 roll, which means you need 3 successes to accomplish the task without a hitch.]

Jean-Jacques Lupien

Jean-Jacques, despite his fierce countenance, could barely keep his eyes open even after his chute had successfully opened, whispering prayers to Sainte Anne, the patron of Canadians venturing far from home. Despite the chute, the ground rushed up to meet him and he remembered to not meet it with rigid legs and trotted and rolled a bit. Then he regained his feet and detached the parachute and wrapped it up and hid it.

Then, he headed to help Agent Rogers, hefting his axe. Having been working timber since he was a boy scampering up trees to trim problematic branches, getting the slight young lady safely down from the tree was a simple matter.

"Bon soir, madame," he intoned, his rain-soaked musty girth and whiskey-tainted clouded breath suddenly near amidst the branches. "Lache pas la patate, er, hold on to your potatoes is how we say. I mean, don't worry, we'll have you down easy. Grab hold and attache ta tuque!"

With a swipe of the axe, he severed the parachute cords where they'd snarled among the branches over their heads, as he prepared to take on her weight as she became free. It barely seemed to burden him as he dropped the axe and then climbed back down with her.

Once he'd seen to her well-being, Jean-Jacques set to assist the Captain in getting their bearings to reach the rendezvous.


Jean-Jacques Lupien: Reason (6) + Survival (2) = Target 8
Roll 1d20: 5
Reason + Survival assist: 1 success
Pande, will you set up a Dice Roller?

Even as Jean approached the tree, he could see something was wrong. Agent Rogers was wrapped in her lines, along with the canvas being tangled in the boughs of the old oak.

Climbing quickly, he knew exactly where to put his hand or his foot and in a moment, was alongside the damsel in distress. As he spoke to her, he wondered if she had hit her head on the way down; she hung limply, and in the rain-soaked darkness, it was difficult to determine anything else.

The axe freed her body, but she came to rest limply in his arms.

At the base of the tree, a flash of lightning from the horrid storm lit up her peaceful features. She appeared as if asleep in that briefest of momentary light. But a friendly hand and a quick touch told the soldier something else. Agent Rogers was gone. She would be of no use on this mission.

It might remind those who knew the statistics that at least 25% of those who jumped out of perfectly good airplanes never survived to reach the ground. The odds were better with this group, but still, they had lost a companion.

The group gathered, stowing their chutes in bowls of roots and other hiding spots. The question might arise if they should take the time to bury the good Agent, or take her body with them, which would certainly impact their chances of success. This was definitely a clandestine mission against a numerically superior force. Surprise was their best advantage.

Captain James Swann

The captain had landed well, an experienced trooper on these clandestine operations. He moved with the others to where Agent Rogers was hung up as Jean climbed up and freed her. The news of her death was a blow to the mission but casualties were not unexpected.

"We hide her body as well as we are able." he said, looking around for the most likely place to secure her with as little work as possible. They needed to vacate this location in case any chutes had been spotted.

Jean-Jacques Lupien

"Oh, petit," Jean-Jacques said, softly, cupping the girl's head in his large hand. She was young enough to be his own daughter, if he'd had one. "You should have stayed in your library. Hell is no place for innocents."

He volunteered to hide her. His second career as a bootlegger in the States had suited him to the task of keeping valuable things out of sight. After respectfully relieving her of her load of their equipment and anything that should not fall into the hands of the enemy, he carried her through some thorny sous-bois, cradling her close to keep her now-cold skin from scratches. There, in a hollowed interior where the moonlight could reach her face but keep her invisible from the other sides of the undergrowth, he laid her gently, crossing her arms and closing her eyes.

The words of the Catholic battlefield prayer did not come perfectly to his lips but he did remember to ask the archangel Michael to protect her body and for Jesus to save her soul. Then he plunged back through les épines heedless of their irritation.

The Captain was all business. He supposed that was how it had to be but Jean-Jacques was already frustrated with how things had gone.

"This is un mauvais présage," he said to Swann, quiet enough to not sound insubordinate. "A bad sign. Was not Agent Rogers supposed to be our expert on these Black Sun enfoirées?"


((OOC, Pande, if the equipment is the same as the pregen, can Jean-Jacques take on the binoculars, first aid kit, Colt detective pocket pistol and ammo, personal occult notes, and ritual tools? With his Brawn, he can be unencumbered with 1 Major and 5 Minor items. His big axe is Major, his own gun and demo kit are Minor, Rogers' gun, binoculars, and notes/tools could take the other three Minor slots.

And Ken, you should do your 2d20 Reason + Survival roll. You're the best guy for that!))

[OOC: Yes take whatever is on the character for use with the group.

With regard to the roll to find their way in the dark and rain, one character rolls 2d20s Attribute + Skill, and anyone else helping rolls 1. Successes count toward the 3 that are needed to make their way without complication.]

Captain looks at the hills and woods in the rain-soaked dark with only flashes of lightning to illuminate anything at all as the Canadian secrets their fallen comrade.

When he returns, the Captain says, "That way, we should find a road that will help us navigate our way through this forsaken night."

His accompanying hand points in a north-easterly direction. The drop hadn't gone as planned, and they ended up on the opposite side of the little village from where they were intended. It would be a hike to get to the area where the resistance forces might be holed up. In addition, they had to skirt the town and risk being discovered at the outset.

The Norwegian pauses, casting his gaze about, and says, "I think you have the right of it, sir. But we might be better off sticking to the woods. Lupien can guide us through the undergrowth, and we will avoid any patrols. No soldier, godforsaken or not, would willingly do more than is absolutely necessary on a night like this. They will patrol the roads but won't leave their warm vehicles. I am sure of it."

As you orient yourselves and start towards the village, a strange vibration rattles your teeth, and your skin feels cold and clammy. The rain seems to beat down harder momentarily as a huge roll of thunder erupts overhead, followed quickly by a bright lightning strike. It feels like a chill wind just cut through you. It passes quickly, but something very strange has just happened.*1

Sven's eyes snap a bit more northerly in direction and focus.*2


OOC:

*1) Each player takes 1 of Stress from a mental attack. Something is most certainly not right and dangerous!
*2) Sven determines the source as a nearby supernatural event, possibly the start of a dread ritual. This should give them a feeling of time pressure— something is up, and they do not know what!

3 successes achieved, the way is known. The 20 on the Captain's roll introduces a complication. In this case, the troops landed on the wrong side of the town.

Capt Swan Reason + Survival Roll Made for Ken.
Captain Swan Reason + Survival to Navigate to Saint Sulac
Pandemonium rolled 1d20,1d20 and got 20, 6

Sven Nielsen (NPC) Reason + Survival Find Saint Sulac
Pandemonium rolled 1d20 and got 5

Sven Nielsen Insight + Academia Diff 2
Pandemonium rolled 1d20,1d20 and got 3, 7

Jean-Jacques Lupien

Jean-Jacques shrugged at the strange Norwegian's suggestion. "Make no matter to me," he said, stealing off a bit to quietly melt off into the shadows, despite his bulk, to scout ahead. He had spent his mission prep time doing his best to analyze the topographical maps of the area. In case the covert team needed to find a bolt hole quickly, he had a few in mind that might serve.

When lightning lit the sky bright as day for a moment, he felt the unearthly chill, but tried to shake it off for now. "Un mauvais présage," he again muttered, this time in a low growl to himself.


((OOC Jean-Jacques has 1 Courage. Does that apply 1 Resistance to mental damage, thereby reducing the Stress from that attack to 0? Sven Nilsen and Sarah Walker have 2 and 1 Courage, respectively. The other pregens have 0.))

[OOC: Indeed Courage acts as 1 Mental Armor! Good Catch, I missed that in my quick read through the system.]

((OOC Also, just to add in, it seems like the pregens are not 100% on par with the Players Guide. Like, Swann has a Will of 10 which should be Courage 2 but he has Courage 0. And Nilsen and Walker seem to be a bit off as well (each should have 1 less, maybe they took from Swann). I was trying to find why but no good answers.. Crook the dog is the most Courageous!))

[OOC: The Quick Start was done before the Player's Guide, so yes there are errors. Probably should update the ones that are PCs, though I haven't had the time to do so. I have read that there is supposed to be an errata but I have unable to find it on the web. I am fine with Cpt Swan getting the correct Courage and lowering the other two. They are Red Shirts any way!]

The little group made their way with expert guidance through the woods and hills. The going is slow. It takes about an hour to reach Saint Sulac. Up to now, the German presence in the area does not seem very remarkable. Only a single patrol was spotted, and they moved perpendicular to your line of march and disappeared quickly into the dense underbrush. When you reach the edge of the village, things are a little different.

The village itself is small, and your intel suggested it is home to less than a hundred people, and the most noticeable building is a stately chateau at its center. If not for the Nazi banner draped out of one window, it would look like a quaint and luxurious retreat from nearby Rouen. From one balcony, an officer scans the area with field glasses. An MG 42 crew sits behind a sandbag barrier, peering out occasionally while smoke from a camp stove rises behind them.

The most disturbing observation you make is the German soldiers here are not normal Wehrmacht. The Black Sun has definitely taken over. They are easily recognizable, with uniforms showing their insignia, prominent gas masks, and helmets. For them to be have taken over this village so completely does not bode well. As you consider this, you notice a handful of scared-looking villagers being escorted at gunpoint into the chateau.

As they observe the scene, they hear the sound of a car coming closer. It is the type of car that their contact was supposed to meet them in. However, seeing into the car with the headlights in the way is next to impossible. The car pulls to the side, avoiding any line of sight from the German troops, and the headlights are extinguished. In the driver's seat is someone who has longer hair, as if a woman or in a wig.

{Isabella}

Their amulet had stopped pulling in one direction and was rocking back and forth. The car had drawn Isabella near to the village of Saint Sulac. She smiled wryly at a remembered time that she had hoped to drive to Saint Suliac - further along the coast of Brittany -- and ended up in this village. This was not to be as pleasant, she realized as she saw the scene unfolding slightly further up. She stopped the Delahaye on the side of the road and killed the headlamps.

"Scheiße....."

Jean-Jacques Lupien

Jean-Jacques made note of the guards around the chateau. The gun nest could probably be approached close enough where his Welrod might serve, with its night sight and silencer but the balcony sentry would be tough. They'd need something with longer range than what he carried, probably timed with a thunder crack to hide the noise. These Black Sun characters gave him a queasy feeling. Why were they already wearing gas masks, in this weather. Maybe it was to hide something within rather than prevent that which was without.

He gave a silent curse as the villagers were herded into the chateau. Wiping the rain from his binoculars in between glimpses, he attempted to catch details of how many there were and how they approached and were allowed in.

As the sudden trace of the headlamps approached, he lowered the binoculars, so as not to reflect through the cutting rain to the sentry, and ducked down. But once they were turned away, he looked again and caught briefly the flash of blonde in the car.

Not a nice night for a drive, mademoiselle, he thought, sensing trouble. He hoped the Captain knew which of these buildings to the northeast they were supposed to meet Aramis.

As a flash of lightning highlights the passenger in the car, Sven asks, "wasn't one of our contacts supposed to be a blond woman? Should we check the car and see what we can learn?"

Jean-Jacques Lupien

"Une femme blonde?" Jacques replied, quietly. "I don't know nothing about no hairs, only that she's an Austrian and we might not be able to trust her. I guess they all got blonde hairs over there, eh?"

He wiped the rain from his face and looked at the others. "We're supposed to find Aramis in one of these buildings, no? Maybe this lady knows, sure. But maybe this lady's the reason we don't see Aramis nowhere, eh? Or maybe this is some other lady."

He looked back over at the car. "You want I should go find out? If she's some other Nazi lady maybe she don't get out of the car for a while? I keep it real quiet."

The squad looks to their leader to see what his orders are.

Captain Swann

He observes the vehicle for a few moments, eyes sweeping around the surrounding area as well to look for any sight of a trap. Finally he nods.

"Go ahead. We will cover from here. Fist up in the air if it is our contact."

Jean-Jacques Lupien

Jean-Jacques nodded to the Captain and slipped off his bulky pack, carefully placing it on the ground and laid his axe across it. He wanted to appear as close to a citizen of Saint Sulac, not a well-equipped invading soldier. He only made sure to bring his Welrod, silencer in place, near at hand but tucked out of sight.

Then he approached the car, a shadow separating from the undergrowth, on the dark passenger side, opposite from the chateau.

Rain poured off his huge form as he bent at the waist to peer inside. He knocked his left knuckle on the window three quick times.

{Isabella}

It had been a few minutes since she’d pulled over. Isabella was confident that the car was out of line of sight from the village and the Nazi perimeter. But would they have roaming guards? The young woman sensed a shadow approaching on the passenger side of the car. She held her breath waiting for another figure to come along the driver’s side. Three raps on the passenger window jolted her — but then she realized the amulet had stopped rocking and had stayed slightly shifted to that side.

***Elsa……you better be right*** she thought wryly, before shifting over roll the window down. There wasn’t another guard on the driver’s side. That was at least a good sign.

“J’ai des problèmes de voiture.” Isabella claimed car troubles as she slowly rolled the window down. She regarded the hulking, bearded man leaning down into the car. He was not a German soldier and certainly not a Black Sun.

Jean-Jacques Lupien

Car trouble, huh? thought Jean-Jacques. Not sure about that one. His breath clouded the window as it descended. When it was low enough, he leaned an arm and shoulder on the door frame. His movement was casual but his mind was calculating and the rain pouring down his rugged countenance and wild beard was likely menacing.

He tried to tell himself this woman might not be his enemy but seeing her snug in her fine automobile, and thinking of Agent Rogers, dead and suspended in an oak, it was a struggle for him. She'd left her home to save the French and didn't even survive long enough to get her boots on the patrie. He tried to tell himself that it was unlikely he would use his left arm, which he had been sure to position to allow such, to lunge and grab the woman about the throat before she could scream. He tried to tell himself that his right hand, low and out of view, would not be needed to fire a bullet through the clutched Welrod's suppressor into her head. He tried to tell himself that if she were indeed a double agent that her own courage to be around these sous-merde Nazi bastards was equal to or surpassed likely his own or Agent Rogers'. He tried, but it was likely his rage and necessary preparation for immediate violence showed in his eyes as much as his affected tone was light.

"Peut-être je peux vous aider," he offered to help the lady, commenting on the foulness of the evening. "Mauvaise nuit pour sortir." He grinned and his white teeth flashed through the dark, black beard predatorially.

And then, switching to English, and locking eyes with the woman, he asked, "Do you have a cigarette?"

[OOC: While that is the code for the local French Resistance, Isabella will likely know it as well.]