Alexis St. Claire
Alfred Flinders Phillips
Dr. Elise Agnesi de Bruyn
Dented cardboard box with strange contents arrived at the Dewitt House. Inside were newspaper clippings, a brochure to a couple’s retreat in Chile, and a single piece of odd parchment. Traveled to Puna de Atacama region, specifically to Llullaillaco Mountain, where the retreat is located to investigate the retreat. Discovered mad science mixed with the occult and freed a High Priestess of Mordiggian that was held against her will for experimentation. We were unable to destroy or disrupt the operation at Llullaillaco Mountain, other than releasing the priestess that we hope is key to their work. The cultist attacked us and we were forced to flee for our lives.
Newspaper clippings were of people of society, couples in fact. Mostly the clippings illustrated a timeline of public contention, followed by a trip to this center, then apparent relationship bliss. Also, repeatedly references to barren nature of couples, many of which were suddenly with child after visiting the retreat, but never seen in society after child birth.
The scrap of parchment chilled me. I don’t think I’ll forget the look and feel of that paper as long as I live, most directly because that very paper nearly killed me. The page was torn from The Book of the Dead, with a message scrawled across it of “Help Me”. There were impressions in the paper and using archivist techniques I was able to lift the marks. I was left with a copy of the very page where my name had been crossed off of the Book’s list. Comparing the style of writing, the names that precede Ted Logan’s sham were written by the same hand as the person who wrote “Help Me” on the top.
Our travels through the region gave more details on the horrible events plaguing Argentina. I can safely say now that I have no doubt that they are occult in nature. Nearly all sinkholes were at or near massive and ancient cemeteries, as if some road or tunnel had linked all these grounds of the dead, and then ceased to be. The earth collapsed under its own weight, causing the massive devastation we’ve heard over the news wire back in Arkham.
To best investigate the site, Ms. St. Claire and I posed as a couple in strife, while Dr. De Bruyn and Mr. Phillips posed as bachelors. Once to our rooms, we discovered a strange pattern worked subtly into the floor of each of our rooms (sketch included). Not wishing to be exposed to its effects, I damaged a few of the tiles in mine and St Claire’s room. I am unsure if my damage had any effect.
The following day, Mr. Phillips went off to investigate by himself while Ms. St Claire posed as a potential investor. The good doctor and I accompanied her. We next heard from our colleague as he shouted for aid while Dr. Libby Preston gave us a tour of the underground facilities. When we attempted to rush to his aid, Dr. Preston used some wrist-watch to fling electricity at me. She obviously did something wrong as the watch exploded almost immediately after, burning us all and pelting us with debris. We survived the blast and were able to give aid to Mr. Phillips.
We found him in a most precarious hand-to-hand combat with a woman welding a nasty syringe of green swirling liquid. She surrendered when facing our firearms, but was of little help. We retrieved the syringe and brought it back with us to Arkham for research.
PRIESTESS OF MORDIGGIAN
A pit stood in the center room of the underground lair and it is here we found a humanoid/canine creature. She spoke to me in a voice clearly of Mordiggian’s realm. We helped her escape the pit and I found her robes as mask nearby. By this point, more members of the cult were rushing to the aid of Dr. Preston, so we were forced to follow the Priestess out of the facility. Throughout, we continually noticed the same symbol (sketch included). Mr. Phillips even later confirmed it to have been tattooed on the woman who attacked him. We rush through a large room filled with bundles of packages, with addresses worldwide. A large pallet sat empty, the address noting South Dakota. I suspect this related to our failure in that local, perhaps the death of so many mentioned in the papers recently.
The priestess led us to a cave opening, where a large contingent of winged creatures we saw in New Haven waited. At her instruction, these creatures carefully lifted each of us and we were carried through the Puna de Atacama region to safety.
During our flight, I was able to quiz the Priestess
- Her name is High Priestess Righast
- She has no memory of writing the letter to the Society, but admits it looks like her writing
- When shown the symbol from the underground lab, she compared it to a clock with no hands or a clock with broken hand that was a symbol adopted by the enforcers. She heard a group of her guards refer to themselves as The Broken Hand.
- The Broken Hand were members of a Mordiggian order tasked with combating the deity’s enemies; magicians that use necromancy for resurrection/undeath and enforce any other violation of funerary rites.
- This group betrayed her and brought her to this place for experimentation
- The experiments consisted of drawing blood, injections, samples taken, etc. She had suffered from pain, paralysis, memory loss, extreme exhaustion and bouts of sickness; the latter two persist.
- She believes The Broken Hand betrayed her to wrest control of the church away from the priest of Zul-Bha-Sair; for what ends she could only guess it is for power.
Most alarming, was when asked about the events of South Dakota, she mentioned that Mordiggian’s agents had reported back that Native American shaman were working with members of the Miskatonic Society to raise the dead! She had no additional information on the subject and I could tell her recent ordeals left her weakened, so I did not press the matter.
If High Priestess Righast is right, we have a traitor in our midst that is assisting The Broken Hand or is an actual member. If one member possessed a tattoo, is it possible that all members carry the mark on their body?
Campaign of the Month: July 2017
The Miskatonic Society
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Submitted by P.E. Whyborne