We Made a Big Mistake

Present:  Bernard (Jamie), Cooper (Ian),  Gazala (Richard), Jean (Jeff), Mesmer (Shane), Wonton (Darryl)

Marmalading: Fleur (Stephen), Felix (Kevin), Jacob (Chris) 

BY Gazala.

The Gods continued to chuckle as Mezmer strode boldly back down the canyon with Gazala muttering behind him, Wonton proclaiming "this is da wong ting to do" while Felix scuttled to catch up.

As luck would have it though, Mesmer and Felix collapsed 200m down the canyon with marmalade pouring from their mouths. "see I towld you" says Wonton. 

"Good" snapped Gazala. "Let's go back. I didn’t want to do this anyway. We've done all we need to do".

"Wheelie – I do not tink so" Wonton muses while Gazala stares are him menacingly.

Back at camp Cooper continues to work on the Citroen "Jeep" [Citroen B2] and Gazala offers to help. "Fuck off" says Cooper; "You are worse than hopeless"

"We should bury the bodies" Bernard says "they are beginning to have a very strong and unpleasant aroma".

"Let's go" says Gazala, looking for any excuse to gracefully exit from "helping" Cooper.

Jean and Gazala head off in the truck. "If we go about 10km that should be sufficient distance" speculates Jean. 

"And stay close to the hills so we don’t get lost" warns Gazala.

Jean drives off leaving the others at camp and Cooper continuing to swear under the Citroen

 

They drive 10km and find a suitable place to bury the bodies. "One grave for all four" states Jean, pensively looking at Gazala. 

"No, they each need their own grave, you'd better get to work" 

"I knew she'd say that" reflects Jean as he starts to dig. Several hours later and bucket loads of sweat Jean finishes. The bodies are lowered into the graves and Gazala says a few appropriate words after positioning several rocks.  

"Right, let's head back" Jean says as he hastily jumps into the truck.

"There's a sandstorm coming" states an emotionless Gazala "we can probably get half way and when it hits point the truck into the storm"

Sure enough in about 5kms the storm hits. 3 hours later it passes and they return to camp.

Cooper is again working on the car and this time with some success – "got it" he exclaims.

By now its only 1 hour until dark and we decide to camp that night and head off the next day. Mesmer murmurs something spitting marmalade our of his mouth. 

"Why aren’t we going back up the canyon" he says. 

"Because we aren’t" chime in everyone else except Wonton 

"I fink here are stwange tings going on" he says

 The night is not restful. Bernard and Wonton see Cooper twitching and wake him. He screams eyes wide open. "Aghhh – I'm glad that was a dream" says Cooper looking nervously at a sleeping Gazala. 

"Wot you see?" questions Wonton.

"Gazala and her knife cutting me open and removing my intestines"

Cooper refuses to go back to sleep and Gazala soon joins him on watch. Cooper keeps his distance while Gazala wonders briefly why Cooper is acting strangely.

The next morning, we hastily pack up and get moving driving the truck and the Cooper repaired Citroen. The truck tows the other. We arrive at the main (and only) road and stop.

"We need to cover our tracks" declares Bernard. 

With that we go back some 200m – 300m and brush away the tire tracks 

"That wont shop dem" says Wonton, who is still dubious that we have resolved "this matter". Mezmer mumbles his reluctant agreement.

Back at the road we drive toward Tunis a further 15km before turning off the road and heading south for 2 hours. At last we find a rocky outcrop where we abandon the Citroens. 

"Put sand in their fuel tanks" says Gazala.

"No no, don’t do that says Cooper at he looks to protect his handiwork.

"Ok" agrees Gazala fleetingly to satisfy Cooper as she pours sand into the tanks.

Safely back in the truck, we head Tunis. We are passed by several vehicles of no note but then see a Citroen B2 coming toward us with two Arabs in the front seat.

"Ignore them and keep driving" warns Mesmer. 

"Ohhh do not like" muses Wonton. "Dey look for something Mythos – we awaken"

Upon our return to Tunis we go back to our unit. The Calomnie de Tunis newspaper has reopened and the city seems to be returning to normal. After bathing and changing we head off to report to Inspector Heroux, as instructed (when we radioed in earlier he told us to report directly to him. Given we are no longer employed by him we liberally interpreted the term "directly")

We only tell him broadly our achievements. 

"J'ai besoin que tu répares quelques details"(I need you to tidy up some loose ends) " says Heroux. "Especially this skeletal hand that we have locked away in our secure storage"

"nous avons aussi quelques bouts en suspens. Nous aimerions connaître toutes ces Citroën. (we also have some loose ends, we would like to know about these Citroens)" says Bernard.

"I will see what I can find out" says Heroux

"Oh – can you also get us some more silver" asks Mesmer. (the group has decided that certain other mythos items – the hand and amulet – need to be encased in silver)

"I will see what I can do" says Heroux. "Now please deal with that hand"

"Can we have some weapons?" charms Gazala. 

"Of course," says Heroux staring longingly as Gazala's ample bosom. 'and you can have a coupe of my Gendarmes to boot"

We approach the storage area which is secured behind 2 doors - both locked. Cautiously unlocking he first we can here scraping from behind the second. Guns ready, Cooper bravely opens the final door but refuses to look in.

A stench, so foul it threatens to void or bowels, greets us.

"Whaaat are we doing ear? Who are deez pepoole?" says Wonton [ Wonton failed his Sanity roll and his sanity reduced to 9 when he saw the abomination that greeted us. The rest of us were unaffected.  The affect was minor and caused confusion for Wonton – none of us really noticed a difference. ]

Before us was a deformed Gendarme with the skeletal left hand attached. It shuffled toward us and we opened fire. With 79 points of damage (much of which was inflicted by Jean's submachine gun), it was plastered against the wall. (It is worthy of note that Mesmer was the only one who missed)

 

The hand though was still attached to an arm and is crawling across the ground slowly toward us. Mesmer steps forward and plants his slippered foot on it [ successful Brawl roll ] while Gazala nimbly used her knife to cleanly cut the hand from the arm [ successful knife roll ]. It stops moving.

"We need a safe place to store some of these items until we can encase them in silver" says Mesmer. 

"A bank vault?" Gazala asks

"You can keep them in this store room" offers Heroux who has now joined us.

That seems sensible and we decide to leave the hand, the amulet and the censer (albeit already encased in silver) in the room. The other items (Tala's mirror, the knife, Cooper's soap-stone eskimo and Mesmer's necklaces) we take with us.

We had a few things we needed to do. Bernard wanted to follow up the Citroens and decided to ask around his journalism contacts. Cooper needed rest and medical attention for his injuries incurred by the large skeletal creature. Wonton wanted to go to the library and was frustrated it was closed for a further 4 days. And we needed that silver.

All in all, this takes a few days and a few more restless nights. These nights are interrupted by dreams all involving Gazala and her knife removing various bodily parts of the dreamer. Everyone seems to be becoming cautious around the psychotic Gazala.

One evening Jean decided to talk to Tala in the mirror. After introductions are made (Jean hadn’t met Tala before) and whilst Mesmer was having a dream, Jean showed Tala the sleeping Mesmer. 

"There is a shadow behind Mesmer" says Tala. "It looks like Gazala" – Gazala however was sleeping like a baby.

Jean wakes Gazala and they decide to use her knife to poke the shadow, as they had done some time ago. This seemed to work a treat with the shadow immediately disappearing albeit Mezmer woke up screaming that Gazala was trying to kill him.

"Not yet " thought Gazala. "and it won't be your hand I cut off"

"You are safe with me" Gazala says to Mesmer.

"Keep away from me" says Mesmer cradling a rifle.

The other strange dream that Wonton had was one of a Citroen crashing into a large skeletal creature.

"I fink deez dreams are premonitions" says Wonton. 

Naseeba

Everyone ignored him.

"I dream of Naseeba, my bride to be" Wonton proclaims "I miss her but need 10,000 francs. Dats a lot of money"

 

"You cannot marry her" states Gazala " you must free her" 

"I Chinaman and she marry me" responds Wonton.

"You will free her" Gazala states as though there is no room for argument.

"We put on big banquet – lots of meat and rice – Chinese food - sweet and sour pork." 

"You don’t eat pig," says Gazala "you are truly ignorant."

"I eat wot I wan', pork good." 

The argument goes on for some time, Wonton taking some delight at Gazala's discomfort but not so much that he risks physical harm. Gazala stores this insult away for the future.

Meanwhile Bernard's journalism connections have discovered that the Citroen B2 "fleet" was stolen and is being stored in an old warehouse near the docks. When we say fleet, we mean 20 vehicles.

Heroux kindly supplies us the address and that the property is owned by a company called Baal Pty Limited with the directors being Iva Biggin and Midiks Enormous. Cooper found this hilarious and explains the joke in some detail to Gazala who he erroneously thought would also find it funny. Jean overhead the explanation and smirked with a sailor's carnal knowledge.

We scout out the property. It is clearly Arab owned and we decide to follow the next Citroen that leaves. 

"Why are we doing this?" questions Mesmer.

"Do you have a better idea?" answers Bernard

"We will be seen" argues Mesmer.

"I doubt it" responds Bernard. "We are in a non-descript and commonly seen truck, driving on the only road east from Tunis. Nothing unusual in that"

Citroen B2

Mesmer is silent in his protest. 

Sure enough, an hour or so later, a Citroen with two occupants heads out of Tunis travelling east. We follow at some distance.

The car travels to the point near where we exited the desert. We slow to help but they aggressively wave us on. We continue on for a kilometre or so until we are out of sight. We pull over near a rocky outcrop, put the bonnet up to make us loom as though we have mechanical issues, and set watch on the Citroen.

After not long the Citroen begins to head into the desert toward where the baby is buried.

"I told you something going on" says Wonton. "We should have gone back and removed those hieroglyphs" 

"You said you didn’t want to go back" corrects Gazala pointing out Wonton's hypocrisy.

"Did not" responds Wonton

The Citroen drives further into the desert and we lose sight of it. Night draws near and we set camp. The usual watches are maintained. During his watch, Jean engages Tala and shows her the night sky.

"Strong Mythos," says Tala. "There is a beam coming from those distant hills in the desert, shining straight up."

 

Jean wakes us and tells us all what Tala has said. We can see nothing however we know she has always been truthful.

"Oh no" says Wonton, "we make big mistake. Now beacon to all who know mythos. We need to fix".

Madman's Feast

This was all written by the AI of Chat GPT.

Provide you give it guidance, its results are very impressive.

Introduction

Madman McCreedy was a rich tycoon known for throwing lavish feasts at his sprawling mansion. These feasts were always attended by the crème de la crème of society, who came to indulge in Madman's culinary delights and to witness the depraved entertainment provided by his harem of slave girls.

On this particular occasion, Madman had decided to showcase the butternut pumpkins grown on the grounds of his estate, which were harvested by his harem wenches, naked, in preparation for the feast. As the guests arrived and took their seats at the long tables in the grand dining hall, they were greeted by the sight of the wenches, adorned in nothing but golden chains and brightly colored silk, as they used a complex system of winches and pulleys to lower the platters of food to the table.

At the head of the table sat Madman, a cruel and pompous man, who relished in the suffering of those around him. As the feast got underway, tensions began to rise, and it became clear that not everyone would make it out of Madman's mansion unscathed.

Invitation

 Dear esteemed guests,

You are cordially invited to attend a grand feast at my mansion on the evening of the 22nd. I assure you, it will be an occasion to remember.

The menu for the evening is sure to satisfy even the most discerning palates, with a variety of delectable dishes and fine wines. And as a special treat, I have arranged for the entertainment of my harem of wenches, who will serve and attend to your every need.

I hope you can join me for what promises to be a truly memorable evening.

Sincerely,

Madman McCreedy

Arrival

Bishop Pompous arrived at Madman McCreedy's mansion in his grand carriage, drawn by four white horses. His robes were adorned with gold embroidery, and he carried a staff of office adorned with precious gems. As he stepped down from the carriage, he glanced around at the other guests arriving, his eyes narrowed with greed and avarice.

Margaret Tannebaum arrived in a sleek black limousine, accompanied by several of her most prized wenches. She was a notorious madam, always on the lookout for new girls to add to her stable. As she stepped out of the limousine, she scanned the other guests with a calculating eye, wondering who might be interested in purchasing her wares.

Nonce Patriarch arrived on foot, his face red with anger and exertion. He was a local merchant, known for his short temper and violent outbursts. As he stormed up the driveway towards the mansion, he cursed and shouted at anyone who dared to get in his way.

Strepto Coccus arrived in a battered old van, which he had driven himself. He was a wild-eyed scientist, always on the lookout for new and bizarre experiments to perform.

The evening air was heavy with the scent of Madman McCreedy's prized butternut pumpkins as Strepto Coccus clumsily navigated his van up the winding driveway of the mansion. As he struggled to find the brakes, the vehicle careened towards the wall of the mansion, sending a shower of bricks and begonias flying. Madman McCreedy, the host of the evening's feast, stormed out of the mansion with a face redder than his prized pumpkins.

"You fool!" Madman shouted, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to cultivate those begonias? They were to be the centerpiece of tonight's feast!"

Strepto winced, knowing full well that there was no appeasing Madman when he was in a rage. "I-I'm sorry, sir," he stammered, trying to placate the irate tycoon. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

But Madman was having none of it. "Make it up to me? How exactly do you propose to do that? Those begonias were irreplaceable!"

As Madman continued to rant, Strepto couldn't help but wonder if he would even be welcome at the feast anymore.

As Nonce Patriarch and Margaret Tannebaum took their seats at the table, Nonce couldn't help but let out a growl of frustration. "Dammit, I can't stand these blasted fancy dinners," he grumbled, fidgeting with his napkin.

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Oh, do calm down, Nonce," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "You know how Madman loves to put on a show. It's just for one night, darling."

But Nonce was in no mood to be placated. "I don't see why we have to dress up like a bunch of peacocks and sit through these tedious courses," he continued, his voice rising. "I've got better things to do than twiddle my thumbs while Madman and his cronies prattle on about nothing."

Margaret sighed, trying to ignore the stares of their fellow guests. "Really, Nonce, you must try to be more civil. It's not like you to make a scene."

But Nonce was beyond reasoning, his anger boiling over. "I'll make as much of a scene as I please, Margaret," he spat. "I'm sick of these pompous assholes thinking they're better than everyone else. It's time someone stood up to Madman and his ilk."

As Nonce's tirade continued, Margaret could only shake her head in resignation. She had long since learned that there was no reasoning with Nonce when he was in one of his moods. All she could do was hope that he would eventually tire himself out and the feast could continue in relative peace.

Leek Soup

The first course of the evening was a rich and creamy leek soup, the aroma of which wafted through the air as the platters were expertly lowered by the wenches using their practiced hand at the winches. Madman McCreedy, the host of the feast, stood at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he welcomed his guests to the meal.

"My dear friends, I am so pleased to have you all here with me tonight," he boomed, his jovial tone belying the calculating gleam in his eye. "And now, let us begin with this delicious soup, served up by my loveliest of ladies."

The wenches, dressed in revealing garments and adorned with glittering jewels, moved smoothly around the table, ladling out the soup with practiced efficiency. The guests, dug in with relish, chatting and laughing as they savored the rich flavors of the soup.

Lampreys

As the second course of lampreys in aspic was being served, Madman McCreedy rose from his seat at the head of the table and addressed his guests. "My dear friends," he began, "I am pleased to announce that this evening's feast is dedicated to the most noble and ancient of all culinary traditions: the lamprey in aspic. For those of you unfamiliar with this delicacy, it is a dish that has been enjoyed by gourmands for centuries, dating back to the Roman Empire. The lamprey, a slender, eel-like fish, is cooked in a savory aspic made from broth, wine, and spices, and then served chilled on a bed of greens. It is a dish that requires both skill and finesse to prepare, and I am confident that my kitchen staff, led by the esteemed Greta Tannenbaum, have done it justice. Please, do not hesitate to indulge." With that, Madman sat back down, signaling to the wenches to continue serving the lampreys.

As Bishop Pompous eagerly dug into his serving of lampreys in aspic, he couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan. His pudgy fingers grasped at the slippery creatures, tearing them apart with his teeth and savoring the rich, salty flavor. Madman McCreedy watched on with a satisfied grin, pleased to see his guests enjoying the feast he had so carefully prepared. Despite the bishop's reputation for greed and corruption, it seemed that even he was not immune to the allure of Madman's culinary delights.

Margaret picked at her lamprey with a frown, clearly unimpressed by the slimy dish in front of her. "I don't know what Madman was thinking, serving such an unappetizing dish," she grumbled to the wench standing by her side. "I've had better food at the brothel." The wench, used to the guests' fickle tastes, simply nodded and refilled Margaret's wine glass, hoping to distract her from the unappealing entrée.

As Strepto looked at the slimy, writhing lampreys in aspic, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust wash over him. He had always been more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy, and the sight of these eel-like creatures, their mouths wriggling as they hung suspended in the jelly, was simply too much for him to bear. He tried his best to hide his disgust, turning his head slightly to the side and forcing a smile as Madman McCreedy regaled the guests with stories of his lamprey-fishing exploits. But despite his best efforts, Strepto couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to be sick.

As the lampreys were served, Nonce's face contorted in disgust. He glared at the slimy, wriggling creatures on his plate and let out a loud groan of revulsion.

"What is this?" he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "I can't stand the sight of these things."

Madman chuckled, a cruel glint in his eye. "Oh come now, Nonce. You can't deny that lampreys are a delicacy."

But Nonce was in no mood to be placated. He slammed his fist on the table, causing the other guests to jump in surprise. "I won't eat these abominations," he declared.

Madman's smile faded, replaced by a hard, cold look. "You will eat what I serve at my table, Nonce," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Or you will suffer the consequences."

Nonce's anger reached a boiling point. He grabbed his plate and, with a growl of rage, hurled it to the floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

The other guests watched in stunned silence as Nonce stood, chest heaving, his face red with fury.

Madman's eyes narrowed. "You will be punished for this," he said, his voice cold and threatening.

But Nonce was not about to back down. He squared his shoulders and met Madman's gaze with a fierce determination.

It was then that Margaret spoke up, her soft voice breaking the tense silence. "Gentlemen, please," she said, her tone conciliatory. "There's no need for this kind of behavior. Let's just enjoy the rest of the meal in peace."

Her words seemed to calm the men, and the tension in the room dissipated slightly. The wenches moved quickly to clean up the mess, and the rest of the course was completed in an uneasy silence.

Butternut Pumpkins

As the next course was served, Madman McCreedy called out, "To the winch, wench!" The wenches obediently began to lower the platters of butternut pumpkins, their muscles straining as they worked the winches.

Madman picked up a pumpkin and examined it closely, saying with a smug grin, "This butternut pumpkin is not the same as the other ones. It's the finest one I've grown all year." He took a bite, savoring the taste as the other guests dug in with relish.

Bishop Pompous, his face slick with sweat and grease from the lampreys, eagerly reached for a pumpkin, his eyes alight with greed. Margaret Tannebaum, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of them, her appetite completely ruined by the slimy entrée.

Strepto Coccus, never one to hide his true feelings, openly grimaced at the pumpkins, muttering under his breath about the inedible nature of gourds. Nonce Patriarch, on the other hand, was in high spirits, his anger at the lampreys temporarily forgotten as he dug into the pumpkin with gusto.

As the feast went on, Madman McCreedy watched with pride as his prized pumpkins were devoured by his guests, his wenches scurrying around the tables to refill glasses and plate up seconds. It was a grand and lavish feast.

Trifle

As the final course of trifle was served, Nonce let out a loud sneeze and sniffled, drawing the attention of Madman McCreedy. "Ah, my dear Nonce, are you allergic to sherry?" Madman asked with a sly smile.

Nonce glared at Madman, his anger bubbling to the surface. "Yes, I am," he spat out. "I told you that when I accepted your invitation. You deliberately served it to me knowing I couldn't have it."

Madman chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense, Nonce. I simply forgot. No need to trifle with me over such a small matter."

But Nonce was not placated. He slammed his fist on the table and stood up, his chair clattering to the ground behind him. "I won't be made a fool of, Madman," he growled. "I'm leaving."

Madman's face turned dark as he watched Nonce storm out of the grand hall. He turned to his guards and nodded. "See to it that he is thoroughly punished for his lack of manners."

As the guards set off after Nonce, the other guests looked on in shock and fear, wondering if they would be the next to incur Madman's wrath.

As the guests indulged in the rich, creamy layers of the trifle, the sound of Nonce's beating echoed through the halls of the mansion. Margaret, keen to distract from the unsettling noises, attempted to make conversation with her fellow diners. "I must say, this trifle is delightful," she said, picking at the raisins scattered throughout the dish. "I do love a good sherry in my dessert. Don't you agree, Bishop?"

The bishop, who had been preoccupied with shoveling spoonfuls of trifle into his mouth, looked up at Margaret and nodded. "Indeed, my dear. The sherry is a delightful touch."

But despite Margaret's efforts to steer the conversation away from the disturbing sounds emanating from the hallway, the thuds of Nonce's beating continued to hang heavy in the air. As the guests finished their dessert in silence, the tension in the room was palpable.

Coffee

As the guests sipped their coffee and nibbled on the dainty sweets, the sounds of Nonce's beating continued to echo through the halls. Despite the gruesome noise, Madman seemed undisturbed, enjoying his coffee and sweets with relish.

Once the guests had finished their final course, Madman stood up from his seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, a sly smile on his lips. "I hope you have all enjoyed your meal. It was my pleasure to host you all at my mansion, and I hope you will join me again for another feast in the future."

There were a few polite murmurs of agreement from the guests, although most of them seemed eager to leave and escape the sounds of Nonce's beating. Madman, however, seemed oblivious to their discomfort. "Before you go, I would like to thank you all for your delightful company," he continued, his voice dripping with insincerity. "I trust you will all have a safe journey home."

With that, Madman bid his guests farewell, and the group quickly dispersed, eager to escape the confines of the mansion and the cruel Madman McCreedy.

Boom?

Present:  Bernard (Jamie), Cooper (Ian), Felix (Kevin), Gazala (Richard), Jacob (Chris), Jean (Jeff), Mesmer (Shane), Wonton (Darryl)

Absent: Fleur (Stephen)

Rather than leave or bury the two bodies of the Arab trackers anywhere near our camp, and the trail into the canyon that led to the sarcophagus, we wrapped the bodies in a tarpaulin and stowed them in the back of the truck. And we decided that first thing the next day we would put the tracking skull into the cave with the sarcophagus and collapse the cave with the dynamite.

The night was again uneventful. 

"Dis too quiet" worried Wonton, "I very worry"
"Someone should definitely stay here and guard my truck" confirmed Cooper.

Cooper, Gazala, and Mesmer took the fuses and made up the dynamite team.
Bernard, Felix, Jacob, Jean, and Wonton remained to guard the camp.

Bernard took a position on top of a raised dune nearby, in fact, the same spot where yesterday he sniped the two Arabs. If gave a good view over the camp and the approach from the distant road. The others made sute the Citroën was behind the truck and hidden from the direction that anyone would approach if they were coming from the road. Then they all relaxed and waited.

Just over an hour later, the temperature already climbing, Bernard called down that another vehicle was approaching. Jean and Felix had previously located a couple of small rocky mounds where they could tuck in, hidden from the direction of the road, but closer than Bernard, and also able to cover the approach. They settled in, while Wonton and Jacob hid themselves in the truck.

Another gleaming new Citroën AC4 hardtop halted in the sand about 100m away from the camp. From Bernard's vantage point with the binoculars, he could make out two Arabs in the front, arguing. He lined up the vehicle's radiator block in the rifle sights and strained his ears.

"No, you frick'n get out there" one of them was shouting.
"Stuff that, you do it" yelled the other.

Neither of them appeared to be willing to approach the camp, and shortly the car stated to back away.

"Boom" 

Bernard's shot echoed round the hills, and a billow of steam hissed up from the Citroën's radiator. But they didn't stop. In fact, they spun their vehicle in the sand and began to speed away.

"Boom"

Another rifle shot from Bernard, this one harmlessly passing through the rear window and out through the windscreen, narrowly missing the driver, who belatedly ducked as the windsreen shatteredin front of him.

Even though they wouldn't get far with a dry radiator, Bernard, Felix, Jacob, Jean, and Wonton jumped into the first Citroën and took off in hot pursuit. 

"Boom"

Bernard took a last long-range shot, and through good fortune, took out a tyre. The fleeing Citroën went through a series of escalating fish-tail swerves and then rolled up onto its side in the sand.
[Bernard's Rifle skill requires a two-dice roll as he is not proficient. But his skill is 17, so he only needs to roll two-D20 with both less than 17. At long range, he adds another dice, so has to roll three-D20, all under 17. After hitting the tyre, the fleeing driver was required to make a Drive skill roll. This failed and he lost control of the car. Hence the roll]

We sped towards the rolled vehicle, hoping they would be injured or at least temporarily incapacitated.

"Boom ... Boom ... Boom"

First a heavy thunk into our own radiator, closely followed by our front tyre bursting as two rifle shots came from beside the rolled car. Jean deftly kept the vehicle under control and brought it to a stop about twenty meters from the enemy location. Leaning out of the driver side window, Jean rattles of a long series of bursts from his machine gun while Jacob and Felix dash off to each side about five meters and dive to the ground. Wonton squeals and ducks down in the back of the Citroën.

One of the Arabs slides around the side of their overturned vehicle and takes a shot at us.

"Boom ... Boom Boom"

His shot whistled off behind us, and return fire from Felix and Jacob dropped him. 

"Surrender" yelled Felix, "toss out your rifle"

A rifle comes flying over the top of Citroën.

"Walk out backwards with your hands in the air" yelled Felix.

The second Arab staggers out backwards from behind the Citroën, his hands stretched to the sky.

"Boom"

The back of the Arab's head blows apart in a misty cloud of red.

"What the?" screams Felix

Bernard waved out from the top of his dune, and jogs down towards us.
"He had a knife" he yelled.

A search of the two bodies revealed even less than that of the first two. No ID, no photos, no money, just plenty of nothing and more questions. Although one of the men was still alive. Jacob bandaged him up, Felix secured him, and we tossed his unconscious body into the back of the truck for later interrogation. We wrapped the other dead body in another tarpaulin and tossed it in too.

"Ow deed they know come ere?" wondered Wonton out loud.
"A marker, on the road" suggested Jean.

So, we rushed back to the truck and took a trip over to the distant road to check for some form of marker or indication of how the two sets of trackers had found us.

Nothing!
Although both their sets of tracks left the road at the same place that the tracks from our truck also left the road.

"They just followed our tracks" concluded Felix

Backing the truck up into a less obvious hollow, we began the process of brushing out all three sets of tracks, for about a hundred meters from the road. We ducked back into cover every time a vehicle approached, but there were no more Citroën AC4's and they all just rumbled past. We figured we could get the tracks all brushed out and be back at the camp by nightfall.

Meanwhile, back up the canyon and heading towards the sarcophagus cave, Cooper, Gazala, and Mesmer had heard the distant volleys of gunfire and wondered if they should hurry back.

"No, no" argued Gazala, "by the time we get back there, two hours, all finished"

So, they continued. A bit further along, and about thirty minutes before reaching the cave, Cooper heard a strange rustling and creaking noise from a side canyon. Gazala quickly unslung her new rifle and dropped down into cover. Mesmer threw off his robes, and quite starkers, began his invisibility chant. Cooper drew his pistol, and also dropped down into some cover, carefully watching the end of the canyon that the odd noises had come from.

An odd creature assembled from old skeletons

The odd noises: a dry scraping, rattling, creaking, and rustling sound continued for some minutes util a peculiar creature emerged from the canyon, about one hundred meters away from Cooper as he crouched behind a rock with his pistol. The thing was about eight feet tall and looked to be made up of a collection of animal skeletons and skins with odd bits of vegetation in places. The various skulls from the skeletons were present, but not joined to their own skeletons. They appeared to be able to look out in all directions. Fortunately, it was not moving very fast, just shuffling along towards the group on an assortment of different legs. It staggered along slowly. It would take another ten or so minutes to get close enough to attack.

Gazala looked it over, and despite it looking like the weirdest thing she had ever seen in the desert, she thought that a grenade would deal a goodly amount of damage. She slipped two grenades out of her pack and lined them up on the ground, for when it came into range. Then she made sure the rifle was fully loaded, made herself comfortable, took a sip of her water, offered a prayer to her ancestors, and settled in to wait.

Mesmer finished his Invisibility ritual, none too soon, as the burning sun was starting to cook his back and he suspected that it would be burnt red again before the end of the day. As the sweat beaded up across his shoulders and began to trickle down his back between his shoulder blades, he uttered the final chant, waved his hands just so, and faded from sight.

All the skulls on the creature spun immediately in his direction, and it stood taller. Looking directly towards where the invisible Mesmer crouched, it started to run, no longer a disjointed slow shamble, but a purposeful and coordinated run.

"Oh crap" Mesmer whispered, leaping up and running in the opposite direction.

Almost caught by surprise, Gazala quickly dropped the rifle and picked up a grenade. Flinging the pin behind her she lobbed the grenade into the air and watched it arc towards the running creature. Offering another prayer to her ancestors, she ducked further down behind the closest rock.

"Boom"

Peering over the top of the rock, Gazala was quite surprised to see the creature, hardly damaged, and still running flat out towards .... Cooper.

Cooper fires off a pistol shot

"Shoot" yelled Cooper, his pistol held out in front of him in his classic double handed marksman stance. He wasn't sure where to aim, the thing seemed to have multiple heads and they were all looking his way. He picked one though, sighted into its empty eye sockets, and squeezed the trigger.

"Boom"

Gazala scooped up her rifle, sighted it centre mass, and squeezed the trigger.

"Boom"

The two bullets hit their targets, shattering chips of bone off the creature as they pass right through and into the rocky ground beyond. But it remains on its feet, not even slowing, as it closes in on Cooper. Gazala backs quickly away, rifle trained on the creature. But as it engages Cooper she can't get another clean shot, so she continues to back away, quickly.

"Why me?" wondered Cooper as he dropped the pistol and drew his machete. As the creature threw itself at Cooper in a frenzied attack, Cooper swung his machete towards the thing's chest.
"Maybe it's a chest?" wondered Cooper as his blade swept through the air, totally missing.

The creature's multiple swinging arms struck Cooper and he staggered back, blood welling up from a deep cut across his shoulder. [Cooper missed, and the creature hit for 8 damage. A hit dealing more than half of the targets maximum hit points deals a "major" wound. Major wounds affect all skills and require an additional dice to be rolled for every action, the least favourable result used. If rendered unconscious with a major wound, players need to roll successfully against their Toughness stat, or bleed to death, immediately!] 

Mesmer sights his rifle on the creature

Mesmer, having put a decent distance between himself and the melee, stopped and turned back. He dropped down to prone and aimed his rifle back at the swirling battle. With his eye over the sight, he watched as Cooper took another swing with the machete, chopping off a piece of one of the things many skeletal arms. Then the creature swung back, and Cooper slumped to the ground, unconscious.

With the strange creature now the only the standing target left, Mesmer fired.

"Boom"

The creature tumbled over backwards and didn't move.
Mesmer jumped up, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and rushed back towards Cooper.
First Aid was applied, bleeding halted, and the imminent threat of death averted.
In fact, the two points of First Aid were enough to bring Cooper around and he groggily sat up.

The dead creature, now just a pile of old skeletons and shrubbery, lay scattered on the ground beside Cooper. Cooper stared at it for a few seconds, and then calmly pulled his few grenades out from his backpack. With a deft flick of his hunting knife, he removed the bases of the grenades and poured out the gunpowder into a pile on the ground beside the "body" of the creature.

"Hey" asked Mesmer, "What are you doing?"
"Just need to blow this thing to smithereens" Cooper replied.
"Oh" exclaimed Mesmer, "Um, need any help?"

Cooper pulled a dynamite fuse from the bag and began to mount them into the pile of gunpowder. He wired then together and was just laying out a very short tail when Mesmer, "helping", knocked the fuse out of the gunpowder. Cooper cursed, and then reset the fuse.

Suddenly Cooper stopped, looked around, and scrabbled back from his improvised explosive device with a shriek. 

"Ah" he shuddered, "maybe this isn't such a good idea"

[Cooper had failed his Sanity roll upon seeing such a strange creature and obtained a temporary Insanity as a result. This required him to act in the worst interests of the party for a period of two-rounds. Ian felt that blowing up the creature, wasting the fuses, and potentially damaging everyone present fitted the bill nicely. Cooper was on one point so would likely have died if the gunpowder had gone off. Shane had intervened by having Mesmer undo Cooper's efforts in the guise of assisting]

Cooper, Gazala, and Mesmer gathered up their equipment and continued on towards the cave.

"What's that noise?" asked Mesmer a few minutes later.

A rattly buzzing was emanating from Gazala's backpack, and upon investigation they found that the large ruby gem was vibrating around inside the magical skull.

"That's never happened before" states Mesmer.

As they approached closer and closer to the cave, and the sarcophagus within, the gem became more and more violent inside the skull. By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, the gem was slamming from side to side of the skull. It almost looked like it was trying to bash its way out. But they were on a mission, with clear instructions from Bernard. Place the skull inside the cave with the sarcophagus and blow the entrance so everything is well and truly buried.

Mesmer carried the rattling skull into the cave and placed it close to the sarcophagus, which was still wedged as deeply into the cave as the party could previously get it. Cooper retrieved the dynamite from where it had been hidden and began to set a series of charges running from the cave entrance back down the length of the cave. Gazala took her rifle and binoculars and climbed up to the top of the nearby peak to check around. She could see back to the camp and noted two smoking vehicles sitting out in the desert nearby. No sign of the party truck though, and no sign of any other people.

"BOOOM"

The ground shook. Gazala hurried back down to the cave location and joined up with Cooper and Mesmer. They moved off down the canyon until the sun dropped below the hills and it started to get dark. They found a reasonable spot to camp for the night, and Gazala told the others that she would stand watch for the night.

"Are you ... sure......?" grunted Cooper as he curled up under the little tent and fell into an exhausted sleep.
"Okay with me" confirmed Mesmer as he also slipped under his bedroll and began to snore.

Gazala slits Cooper's throat

A little later Mesmer awoke. Something had disturbed his fitful slumber. As he peered out from under the side of the little tent, he saw a large shadowy figure rise up from behind Gazala and bend down as though whispering into her ear. Gazala then slowly rose and crept towards the tent. Mesmer couldn't move, he felt paralysed, he couldn't even yell. Gazala drew her knife as she ducked into the tent and with a quick swipe, she cut Coopers throat from ear to ear. As bright arterial blood gushed out across Gazala's robe, she turned and looked straight at Mesmer.

Mesmer tried to back away but was frozen to the spot. Gazala raised her knife and leapt across the tent towards Mesmer. The wicked magical blade gleamed greenly in the dark as it swept towards Mesmer's throat.

"Arrrghhh" Mesmer screeched, as he jerked up from his bedroll.

All was quiet, Cooper was snoring beside him, and Gazala looked over with concern from her spot just outside the tent.

"We most go back to the cave" stated Mesmer.
"No way" argued Gazala.
"Then we must get further away" countered Mesmer, "Something is not right"

They quickly packed up and carried on down the canyon in the dark. It was pretty slow and tough going, and after a few hours of struggle, they decided that that would have to be far enough. Quickly throwing up the little tent they all squeezed in and dropped into an exhausted sleep.

Cooper awoke to see Gazala crouched over his nether regions, licking her lips suggestively. She bobbed down and engulfed his swelling manhood between her warm lips. Cooper grinned and leant back.

Mesmer had the same dream as a few hours previously.
Gazala on a killing spree with her glowing knife.

They all awoke, sometime just before dawn, and scrambled up and away towards the camp. Cooper still grinning, Mesmer nervously keeping an eye on Gazala, and Gazala wondering what the hell Cooper was grinning about.

Around dawn they arrived at the camp. The truck was parked just behind the tent and the rest of the crew were just waking and preparing breakfast.

Jacob tended to the injured Cooper, healing him for two more pints [and eliminating the major wound in the process]. After a good feed, Cooper went out to see if the Citroën's could be made to run. He was still grinning but reported that one vehicle was a total write-off and would need towing, but the other might be okay after some heavy-duty repair work.

Inspector Heroux called in on the radio and reported that one of the night-time guards had cut off his left hand and attached the skeletal hand he was supposed to be guarding. They shot and killed him. He'll check in each morning at 9am, so we should have the truck running and the radio on then. We gave him the number plates of the two Citroën's, and he will try to find the owner.

"Ten bob it's Tariq" bets Cooper.

That night we set up guard shifts, but its only Wonton that has a strange dream. Once again Gazala is out and about cutting people's throats. Wonton takes a quick look around after waking from that dream, looks about, sighs, and goes back to sleep.

In the morning Mesmer argues that it's critical to return to the cave and check why the strange dreams are occurring. He thinks that the skeleton is extending its influence beyond the sarcophagus, and we must not leave it like that.

Bernard and Cooper suggest that it's much more important to get rid of the bodies and the Citroën's before more trackers turn up at the camp, and possibly overrun us. So, it's put to a party vote, fix the cars and get rid of the bodies, or head back to the collapsed cave.

"Well, that's just stupid" states Mesmer in a huff, and gathered up some supplies and headed off up the canyon to check on the cave, all on his own. 

"Oh, for Achmed's sake" moans Gazala, and gathered up her stuff and went with him.

Wonton scooped up the tracking amulet and followed them.

Bernard just sighed and sent Felix after them.

Bernard, Cooper, Jacob, and Jean stayed to deal with the cars and the bodies.

The God's chuckled ....

 

Part 2 - The Binding

Present: Bernard (Jamie), Cooper (Ian), Felix (Kevin), Gazala (Richard), Jacob (Chris), Jean (Jeff), Mesmer (Shane), Wonton (Darryl)

Marmalading – Fleur (Steven) 

We arrived back to the army camp to find them breaking camp. The state of emergency was over. No more Ghoul creatures had been seen or found for days, and the widespread unrest had settled down totally. Jean's authority to order artillery strikes had been rescinded, and the residents were returning to Tunis to clean up and recover. Heroux also noted that no cloves or other spices had been appearing around the camp for days.

The Mythos Containment Field

Based on the information Mesmer obtained from Tariq's private library, we commissioned a stone mason to carve the three power symbols into the sarcophagus. Three pairs of symbols, each pair on opposing faces. According to Mesmer, this arrangement should generate a mythical containment field and bind the baby skeleton and its powers into the sarcophagus.

Once the carving was completed, Mesmer and Wonton both checked the results with their Detect Mythos ability. 

"Oh" exclaimed Wonton, "Dis now extreme big source of mythos power. Everyone see"
"But is it working?" wondered Mesmer.

That night there was only the mess tent and a few bunkroom tents left, most of the army had relocated back to the Tunis barracks. After a small dinner we crowded into our assigned bunkroom tent and consulted Tala in her magic mirror.

"Oh" Tala exclaimed, "This is definitely very strong evil now. But I cannot tell if the containment effect is working. And anyone who is attuned to the mythos world will be able to see this. It's a huge beacon!"

"Oh no. I like not veacon 'fect" squealed Wonton.
"Don't we have a tracker thing?" asked Cooper. 

Jacob dug the skull out of his backpack and donned the amulet. The skull immediately spun around and stared in the direction of the sarcophagus. With a bit of experimentation, we confirmed that the tracking power of the skull was definitely active, with an apparent unlimited range of effect! A lot of discussion regarding our next steps followed. It was decided that first thing in the morning we should get mobile and bury the sarcophagus way way way out in the desert.

Goodbye rifles ...

In the morning, Heroux requested that we return all the army equipment, including guns and ammunition, that we had been issued with. Our special investigation team was being decommissioned!

"It is too soon" shouted Bernard, "There is one last mission to undertake"
"And we will need lots of dynamite for it" noted Gazala hopefully.

We handed in all the rifles, three pistols, Hubert's sub-machine gun, and eleven of the grenades. We did not disclose that a further thirteen grenades are stowed in the truck. Gazala received a box of dynamite and fuses, which she handed over to Cooper. Jean also retained his navy issue sub-machine gun.

"No rifles" muttered Bernard, "We must remedy that immediately"

Bernard and Gazala determined to take the old Citroën into Tunis and obtain a rifle or two from the black market, while the rest of us would take the truck and head south into the desert to get some distance away from the camp area and keep the sarcophagus on the move, for now. Gazala got a couple of the remaining legionaries to load her old family tent into the truck.

"Look after this with your life" she commands Jean.

Trusting that Bernard and Gazala would be safe, and successful, the rest of the group loaded into the truck with supplies for a week and headed south. After quite some hours, we found a place to set up camp, before it got dark, and settled in to wait for the others to arrive. They arrived, with a rifle!

After an uneventful night, we loaded back into the truck and headed deeper into the desert. We were searching for a totally isolated, rugged, and deserted area where we might hide the sarcophagus in an old cave, or similar hiding place. Towards the middle of the day, we found some rocky outcrops with a system of small canyons cut up into the rocky hillside. At the edge of the desert, just before the rocky outcrops, we stopped to explore further up the canyons. 

Gazala's family tent

Gazala hauled her family tent out of the back of the truck and had us set up a basecamp, so we could start searching from there, with somewhere to return to for rest and water.

We spent the rest of the day searching up the various rocky canyons that ran up into the surrounding hills. We didn't find an appropriate resting place for the sarcophagus that day, although we confirmed that the area was totally deserted. 

"For sure no one lives anywhere around here" stated Gazala, having searched for tracks and signs of life while the rest of us had been looking for caves.

Again, we had an uneventful night. No strange dreams, no appearing spices, no peculiar possessions.

In the morning, Cooper cooked up a good feed and after sating ourselves we headed back into the hills. Of course, we couldn't leave the sarcophagus at the camp without a decent guard, and we were too nervous to split the group, so we lugged the huge stone sarcophagus around with us on our search. It was pretty damn heavy, so it was slow going manoeuvring the thing up the canyons as we searched.

"I need to carry this delicate dynamite" complained Cooper, "You lot will have to carry the sarcophagus"
"Mutter, mutter" grumbled Mesmer.

A cave opening in the hillside

Just after midday, Jacob popped out from a narrow gut he had scrambled up and yelled.
"Hey, over here. I found the perfect place" he called. "A small cave opening into the hillside"

Sure enough, apart from trying to get the sarcophagus up the narrow gut to the cave entrance, the spot looked perfect. Reasonably hidden, hours away from the nearest vehicle access, and totally able to be collapsed with the sarcophagus inside.

While we lugged the sarcophagus as deep into cave as possible, Cooper assessed the cave entrance for his dynamite charges, and Bernard clambered up to the top of hills with his rifle and binoculars to take a look around and make sure there was no one anywhere nearby.

After about fifteen minutes, Bernard, preceded by a small avalanche of stones and rocks, arrived hurriedly back at the cave entrance.

"Vehicle" he puffed, "there is a vehicle ... heading towards the camp ... from over by the .. road"

Bernard explained that he had seen the vehicle through his binoculars, driving slowly back and forwards along the road, and then stopping and leaving the road, heading slowly across the desert, straight towards our camp and the truck. Obviously tracking us somehow.

"We'll need to run" he concluded.

Leaving the sarcophagus lodged into the back of the cave, and the box of dynamite behind some rocks just inside the cave, we raced back down the canyon, hoping to arrive at the camp before whoever was approaching did, and set up an ambush for them. 

The Arabs new Citroën AC4 Hardtop

But it wasn't to be. When we finally emerged from the canyon, with the camp about two-hundred meters away, we saw a new model Citroën AC4 slew to a halt about two-hundred meters on the far side of the camp, and two Tuareg Arabs clutching rifles leap out and start running towards the camp. Bernard threw himself prone on a small dune while the rest of us continued the race to the camp.

We won. The two Tuareg Arabs dropped and disappeared into ground cover, and we did the same beside the tent. From Bernard's dune behind us, he took a shot towards them, and killed a puff of sand. Cooper and Gazala yelled out for them to surrender and give themselves over to our mercy. One leapt up and ran back towards their Citroën. 

Bursts of gunfire rang out. A crack from Bernard's rifle behind us on the dune, a crack from Gazala's pistol, and a thunderous stutter from Jean's sub-machine gun. The Arab flew forward to the ground and didn't move. Just then the second one also leapt up and ran for their Citroën.

"Stupido" chuckled Mesmer as Bernard's rifle shot took him through the back of the head.

The two Tuareg trackers lay dead in the sand beside their Citroën. Searching their bodies revealed two old photographs, one of Bernard, taken way back at the magic artifact auction and published in our own newspaper, the Calomnie de Tunis ("Slander of Tunis"), and the other of Gazala, a more recent picture, but still taken some months ago. Nothing else, no papers or identifying documents, no money, and our Detect Mythos spells revealed no magic of any kind.

Now we had two extra rifles, extra ammunition, a spare Citroën, complete with reserve petrol and food supplies, and two bodies which had to "disappear".

Part 1 - Dealings with Tariq Nadir

) Present: Bernard (Jamie), Cooper (Ian), Felix (Kevin), Gazala (Richard), Jacob (Chris), Jean (Jeff), Mesmer (Shane), Wonton (Darryl)

Marmalading – Fleur (Steven) 

As we were heading off to visit the desert compound of Tariq Nadir, aka Tariq the nasty, that collector of Mythos relics that we had briefly met at the auction some months back, Jacob requested that we stop off in the Jewish Quarter of the city to visit the Rabi of the Or Thora Synagogue. Apparently, times were tough for the Jews in the Hara of Tunis.

"Stop outside this door" said Jacob, "I'll only be a moment"

Jacob jumped out of the truck with his green duffle bag and gave a knock on the door. After a few moments the door swung open, and a well-appointed rabbi beckoned Jacob inside. He was out in less than ten minutes, without his duffle.

"Hopefully that'll help" he muttered.

"They are going to build a new synagogue you know, over in the European Quarter. It'll be good for the faithful to get out the Hara" Jacob stated.

"So long as those damn German's don't arrive in numbers" he qualified, "A good thing that Hershell and his Brown Shirt rabble are out of the picture now"

Cooper was our driver again for this trip, and he shoved the truck into gear, and we rumbled off out of the city towards the southern countryside. Cooper reckoned he knew where Tariq's compound was, so we let him navigate our way into the desert. Pretty soon we were roaring through the sands, a huge plume of sandy dust billowing up behind us. This definitely wasn't going to be a surprise visit!

"So" asked Bernard, "We only have these three magic things with us, right?

He was referring to Mesmer's Three Heads, Gazala's knife, and Cooper's Soapstone Amulet. Due to the unknown but potentially extremely high risk of carrying magic items into Tariq the Nasty's home turf, we had discussed leaving everything else back at the camp, under armed guard by the Legion.

"What about this control necklace?" queried Mesmer, "It's definitely magic"
"Um..." noted Jacob, "And I bought the magic skull and it's paired amulet"
"What?" yelled Bernard, "How did you idiots overlook all that?"

But we were already approaching a stone fence stretching left and right, with a well-guarded gate blocking the sandy track in front of us. Beyond the gate, the track led on towards an old stone fort about five hundred meters away. Just behind the gate stood a stone shed, and six armed Tuaregs had emerged. They were all armed with old rifles, their heads cover in the traditional blue tagelmust, with just their dark eyes visible.

One approached Cooper at the driver's window and said something.

"He wants to know what we want" translated Gazala.
"Talk to the Boss" replied Cooper, pointing to Bernard in the front passenger seat.
"Matrid?" the guard asked Bernard. "He wants to know what we want" translated Gazala.
"We want to speak with Tariq Nadir, we may have some items that might interest him" responded Bernard.
Gazala said some stuff to the guy, and he went over to the guard post to call back to the main Fort. Then he came back and said something to Bernard.

"He said to wait here" translated Gazala.

After a few minutes we saw four horses being ridden out from the fort and down the track towards us. Three of the horses carried more armed Tuaregs, but the fourth one carried a young girl. She must have only been around eight-year-old, and as she got closer to us, we could see that her lips had been crudely stitched shut. No speaking for her! (Hafsa)

"What the" gasped Gazala, tensing up with her hand dropping to her knife hilt.
"Be calm" whispered Bernard, "We are the Guests here."

The three slid off their horses and one of them lifted the girl down. She was staring at the truck, and immediately started to shuffle sideways around us. Her eyes never left the truck as she made a full circuit completely round us, and when she got back to the man who had lifted her down, she looked up at him and held us six fingers. He must have been their leader, and she had correctly counted each of the magical items we had bought with us!

"Mr Nadir is interested" said the leader.
"Leave your weapons here and follow us" he commanded.

We had a quick discussion and decided that Bernard, Gazala, Jean, and Mesmer would head up to the fort, while the others would remain in the truck. While Bernard, Jean, and Mesmer unloaded their weapons into the wooden crate in the guard post, Gazala launched into a rapid discussion with the leader. She waved her arms a lot, and eventually convinced the leader that she should be able to carry her knife. [Richard made a successful Charm role]

As we started off to walk to the fort behind the riders, the strange girl tugged on the leader's cloak and pointed emphatically back towards the truck. Apparently, Jacob's skull and paired amulet was a significant item, and she was very interested in that. But it remained "safe" in the truck with Jacob and the others.

As we puffed our way down the track in the hot sun, we noted that each corner of the fort had a small tower equipped with a mounted heavy machine gun manned by two Tuareg guards.

The perimeter walls looked sturdy and well maintained, although the rest of the small structures of the fort looked pretty run down and worn. The centre of the fort compound contained a collection of tents, and we were led to the largest one in the centre.

"Gazala" whispered Jean, "Remember that you are playing my betrothed and need to be a tad submissive. This could go majorly wrong if you get aggressive, or Tariq decides he still doesn't like you"
"Although how could he not?" adds Jean as Gazala stares daggers.

As we brushed through the large double flap doors into the central tent, we noted that it was richly appointed with amazing antique looking rugs on the floor and hung around the walls, cushions scattered across the space, with armed guards standing unobtrusively in the shadows around the outside of the tent. A small harem of semi-clad females was performing in front of Tariq, who was lounging on a couch at the back of the space.

Tariq Nadir looked much as he did when the group had previously encountered him, arrogant and pompous, his dark eyes staring from below his white turban, and his bushy beard covering the lower half of his face. He was wearing a similar red robe over full purple pantaloons.

Gazala bit her tongue when he complained to Jean.
"You let your woman carry a knife then?" he asked derogatorily. 
"Of course" replied Jean, "It is a family heirloom"
Let me see" Tariq commanded, holding his hand out to Gazala.

Jean had to request Gazala hand the knife over for his inspection, which she did. And she didn't even cut his fingers off, which you could tell she was itching too.

"You'll keep" Gazala muttered quietly to herself.

Having decided to be relatively open with him, we relate some of our experiences with Hershell, and what we had concluded about his summoning of the Ghouls. Tariq was in agreement and noted that Hershell was a fool meddling with forces well beyond his understanding. 

He looked over the three items that we had bought with us and confirmed that Mesmer's amulet was a control amulet, able to control creatures of the type whose blood was stored in the crystal of the amulet.

"A low power item" he scoffed, "I have a number of those"

He confirmed that Mesmer's three shrunken heads were a summoning device and commented that they were more trouble than they were worth.

He offered to buy Gazala's knife, to which Gazala forcibly noted that it wasn't on offer. He seemed to know about the robbery of our bank vault and knew that Hershell was responsible. He asked us if we had recovered the Censer from Hershell, and where it was currently held. Bernard noted that despite a thorough search of Hershell's residence, where the shrunken heads were obtained, there was no sign of the Censer there. [Absolutely true, we had already recovered it from the floor of the Church crypt after Hershell was sucked into the other realm by the amorphous tentacle creature]

He said that he would be interested if we found the Censer, or wanted to sell or trade the Mirror, Rings, or Boots, which he knew we had purchased at the auction. He didn't seem to know too much about the Mirror, he didn't even know it could communicate. He told us that the Skeletal Hand, if fitted to a living person, would cause them to go mad in just a matter of months, He asked us about the Skull of Seeking, which we informed him that we had heard of, but understood it was not currently operating.

He also knew that Hershell had found an item of "world changing" power, and that it had disappeared while being transported by Hershell's German aircraft some weeks ago. He suggested that if he had this item, he would store it out of harms way, "somewhere safe"

This Tariq Nadir character seemed to know an incredible lot. But he was being relatively cooperative, and eventually agreed to trade Mesmer's three shrunken heads for access to his private research library. Wonton was summoned from the truck to search the library with Mesmer, since he had studied the most about the baby skeleton and arrived soon after.

"How is your Triad?" Tariq asked of Wonton when he arrived.
"What I twy?" Wonton responded confusedly.
"The Triad. Oh, never mind" laughed Tariq. 

Naseeba

Wonton had stopped just after entering the tent, his attention captured by one of Tariq's harem. She was kneeling on one of the rugs in the corner of the tent, looking alluring. Wonton's jaw had dropped, and his eyes were wide open and bulging out.

"You want to partake of my women?" Tariq asked Wonton.
Wonton was speechless and could only nod his head.
"Be my guest" Tariq commanded, and the girl, Naseeba, jumped up and led Wonton through a flap in the back. 

"I luf you werrrrry long time" Wonton muttered as she led him out by the hand,

"Only one of you can enter the library anyway" Tariq noted, "Mesmer, you best go"
"Bernard, perhaps you would like one of my other girls? Tariq offered.

Mesmer followed one of the guards out of the tent and down into a massive subterranean library below the original fort structure. Books of all kinds and ages were stacked into shelves, all around the walls and free standing through the centre of the space. Mesmer didn't know where to start he was so excited. But in his logical and systematic way he attempted to find the most heavily used section of the library [Using the Spot Hidden ability, but failed] and then just picked a corner and started reading titles.

He eventually found a collection of ancient tomes that mentioned the use of the three Words of Power, Baal, Hammon, and Tanit, and described how they might be used to contain the skeleton and restrict its power while in the earthly realm.

"Bingo" he yelled quietly, and used his eidetic memory to commit the instructions to memory.

In a strange quirk of fate, as Mesmer returned to the main tent from his long library research, Wonton returned from his long loving and offered to buy the girl from Tariq.
"How much to buy?" Wonton asked Tariq.
"A mere ten thousand francs" Tariq offered.
"Ohhh, I come vack latter den" Wonton suggested, "I only haf nine at moment"
"Well" suggested Tariq, "I could accept nine thousand with one of the other magic items"
"Ohhh, not got thousands, just haf nine" replied Wonton.
"Yes, later then" scoffed Tariq.

Making polite excuses, we all then headed back to the truck and rumbled off back towards camp.

To be continued .....

The two Tuareg trackers lay dead in the sand beside their jeep (Citroen B2). Searching their bodies revealed two old photographs, one of Bernard, taken way back at the magic artifact auction and published in our own newspaper, the Calomnie de Tunis ("Slander of Tunis"), and the other of Gazala, a more recent picture, but still taken some months ago. Nothing else, no papers or identifying documents, no money, and our Detect Mythos spells revealed no magic of any kind.

Now we had two extra rifles, extra ammunition, a spare jeep. complete with reserve petrol and food supplies, and two bodies which had to "disappear"

Silver

Les Personnes Présentes: Cooper (Ian), Gazala (Richard), Hubert aka Lard-arse (Kevin), Jacob (Chris), Jean (Jeff), Mesmer (Shane), Wonton (Darryl)

Introducing: Felix le Pen (Kevin)

Marmalading – Bernard (Jamie), Fleur (Steven)

When last we observed the group known as Bernard's mob, they had just stormed the basement cellar of Herschel's city mansion and encountered unspeakable horrors that had been the death of Hubert. Jean's machine gun fire had eventually dropped the second tentacled and barrel-shaped creature, and Hubert's head had tumbled forward from its chest and lay at Jean's feet, its blue eyes staring up towards the ceiling, with a wry grin his final expression.

As we now look in upon their exploits, we see that Bernard has slumped to the floor of the basement cellar, no doubt overcome by the unexpected shock of Hubert's passing. Jean is standing at the base of the spiral stair, smoke wafting up from the barrel of his machine gun, his sharp eyes peering into the gloom ahead in search of further targets for his gun. Without thinking or taking his eyes off the gloom, he discards his empty clip and slaps in a fresh load.

"It seems clear" he yells back up the stairs, "bring down some decent torches"

Jean steps aside as everyone piles down the stairs and exits out into the space, the gloom pushing further and further towards the back of the room as each person arrives and shines their torch forwards. The room is about five metres wide by about twenty deep, partly full of old boxes and barrels. Two wooden cupboards stand in the far-right corner of the room, surrounded by a cluster of boxes. 

Five metres in front of the party lies the shot-up corpse of a barrel shaped thing, a ring of green tentacles flopping from its top edge and a head shaped cavity in the centre of its "chest".

A grenade is tossed

Mesmer utters a girly scream and yanks the pin from one of his grenades. With a quick toss he sends the grenade sailing out over the dead thing and towards the back of the room. Everyone flees back up the stairs yelling, except for Jacob who starts muttering to himself, and ignoring the impending explosion, starts to throw boxes and other rubbish over the top of the dead creature.

"Fire" he mutters, "Fire will fix it"

[Everyone had to roll against their Sanity. Jacob, Mesmer, and Wonton failed their rolls and were subject to a temporary insanity. Wonton's rolled insanity was to disbelieve the strange creature situation and so was free to act rationally, but Jacob and Mesmer were both required to act irrationally, to the detriment of their party. Jacob chose fire as a method to remove the horrible creature from existence, while Mesmer chose the grenade. Mesmer isn't very good at grenade throwing though, and fortunately for Jacob, totally missed his target]

The group, excepting Jacob and Mesmer, spread out in the cellar around the top of the spiral stairs, guns and torches trained on the stairwell, as a loud explosion echoed up from below, shortly followed by the shark crack of rifle fire, and a billowing cloud of smoke and muffled coughing.

Then came the sound of feet, rushing up from below. Gazala's finger trembled over the trigger of her gun, and she started to apply pressure, poised to fire at whatever was approaching. As a shadowy figure burst from the stairwell amid a wave of black smoke ... Gazala realised it was just Mesmer and held her fire.

"I don't know what came over me" he stammered, looking back over his shoulder to the dark stairwell.
"Jacob is still down there, feeding his stupid fire"

The smoke billowing out of the stairwell started to dissipate, and then Jacob emerged from below, soot stained, couching fit to burst, and bleeding from a shallow scratch across his cheek. [One point of damage from the grenade burst, but was a D6 roll so could have been much worse]

As the group were waiting for the smoke to dissipate further so they could get down again and explore, the faint sounds of sporadic coughing could be heard from below.

"R yoo sur Hubert deed?" inquired Wonton
"Oh yes" stated Jean, "His head is now football. Very dead"
"Too bad" whispered Gazala.
"So, what is coughing?" wondered Mesmer.
"Nothing good I'm sure" grunted Cooper, "Let's go see"

The very handy MAS 38 SMG

Led by Jean clutching his machine gun, the group cautiously descended the spiral staircase back into the basement cellar and spread out across the end of the room. Their torches lit the near half of the room well but cast odd shadows that appeared to jump and flicker across the far end of the room. Wafts of smoke still curled up from the small pile of charred rubbish laid over the dead thing, and Hurbert's head still lay on the floor at the foot of the stairs.

Bits of slimy green tentacle lay on the floor next to Hubert's head, like they were reaching out for it.

"It's still trying to claim him!" stated Mesmer, "maybe burning isn't such a bad idea"
"I told you", exclaimed Jacob.

The group slowly advance down the room towards the shadowy far end, checking each and every possible hiding spot on the way. Wonton stares eagerly towards the back left of the room, his eyes bright.

"Dere" he mutters, "Pentagram devinity dere"

But before they even get close to the far end of the room, a muffled cough sounds from somewhere at the back right corner. As previously mentioned, the back right of the room had two large cupboards and a collection of boxes.

From the front centre of the group Jean immediately opened fire, spraying a full magazine of bullets into the cupboards and boxes. Boxes and cupboards alike shred under the barrage, and a small cascade of shattered glass rains down from the cupboards. They were full of chemistry glassware equipment like beakers, burettes, condensers, flasks, and retorts. All useless now though.

"That should do it" states Jean confidently.

A large metal box

After the barrage of gunfire, the group continues to tentatively advance, poking at every bit of junk and box. In the far-right corner of the room they find a large metal chest, about a one-meter cube with a solid lid clasped down. Three or four indentations from the machine gun fire pit the near side and the faint sounds of movement can be heard from inside it.

"Shoot it" yells Mesmer.
"Burn it" yells Jacob.
"Don't open it" yells Cooper.
"Da pentagram!" yells Wonton, who has drifted over to the left-hand corner of the room.

Jean steps up to the metal box, gives the lid a prod with his machine gun barrel, makes sure the clasps are secure, and steps back. He keeps his gun trained on the box. 

"I'll watch it" he states, "you lot check out the place"

Wonton is already down on the floor with his chisel and cleaning rags happily dealing to the pentagram. 
Cooper and Gazala drifted off to search through the rubble.
Jacob rushed back to the bits of tentacle flesh and was gathering them into sacks, "for burning" he said.
Mesmer was trying to keep the three talking heads from casting unknown summoning spells. [This Mythos tainted artifact was purchased by Herschel in the Mythos auction some months ago, and we had just "recovered" them from his locked drawers upstairs. Mesmer had dropped them into his backpack, but as soon as they were left alone for more than twenty minutes, they started up some strange chant that Mesmer suspected was some form of Mythos summoning spell, and no one wants that to happen!]

As the first chunk of Wonton's chisel on the pentagram etched into the stone floor sounds, Jean "hears" one half of a strange radio conversation in his head. Amid bursts of crackling static, he makes out the voice of the Bretagne's radio officer.

"Crackle ... confirming ... artillery strike sss ... sss ...36° 49' 51'' N sss 10° 10' 06'' E "

Keeping his attention on the strange metal box, Jean calls over to the others.

"Um, something weird is happening" he states.
"You think?" laughs Mesmer.
"No, well yes. I mean, I can hear stuff in my head. I think the battleship is going to shoot at us"
"No problem" suggests Mesmer, "we are in a tiny cellar, underground. What could go wrong"
"Wuse" suggests Wonton from the floor, "Dey no vant me kill pentagram, so rick us"

A muffled "... help me ...." sounds from the metal box.
"Crackle ... confirmed ... sss ... firing sss" echos inside Jean's head.

A high-pitched whine, closely followed by a muffled whump, and the ground shaking follows.

"Crap", exclaims Jacob.
"See, no problem" states Mesmer.
"No wuse, weal message" mutters Wonton.

"S'il vous plaît laissez-moi sortir, je suis Félix" sounds from the metal box.
"Stuff that" says Jean, finger slowly tightening on the trigger of his gun.

Jean kept a very close eye on the metal box and all its rattles, clanks, and muffled words, while Wonton carefully removed the rest of the pentagram from the floor. Once it was all removed to Wonton's satisfaction, he cast a Detect Mythos spell to verify the pentagram effects were also gone.

"Oh" he exclaimed, "Mythos here. But not vorry, only vhat expect. Not the floor, not the box"

Introducing Felix le Pen

The box is cautiously unclasped, and slowly unfolding out from the box appears a dishevelled looking French gendarme. He introduces himself as Felix le Pen, the only survivor of his patrol captured by a group of Brown-Shirts about a week ago. He explained that they stuffed him into the box and told him he would be sacrificed for the greater good of the motherland.

[Welcome to Kevin's new character, nearly killed before he even joined the party.
Despite the near fatal start, we are sure he will fit right in]

The group promise to return Felix to his commanding officer, Inspector Heroux coincidently, and then they return up the stairs, through the basement and then the kitchen, and back into the main part of the house. Gazala and Mesmer break off to retrieve Maria, the saucy maid, while everyone heads out into the yard to get the car ready for departure.

"Are you sure we should take this Maria with us?" asks Mesmer.
"Of course." replies Gazala, "The poor women must have suffered horribly working here"
"But she has been here for these past few weeks and no ghouls have bothered her" notes Mesmer, "she is most likely as deeply involved as Madame Herschel herself!"
"Mmmm" reconsiders Gazala, "You are right, she could indeed be in league with them"

They find Maria still tied up in the room she was left in, and Gazala leans down and rapidly deploys her Mythos blade, cleanly slicing Maria's throat from ear to ear. Mesmer gasps in shock.

"This will also save a space in the car" Gazala calmly explains, looking Mesmer in the eye.

Meanwhile, out in the yard, the rest of the group find that the artillery shell fired from the Bretagne was in fact totally real, the coordinates were in fact targeted right there in Herschel's yard, and the Mercedes was now a crumpled and burnt-out pile of scrap metal. 

Of the two Legionnaire guards and the skeleton's coffin box, there was no sign.

"Mon Dieu" gasped Jean.
"My God" gasped Cooper.
"Wǒ de shàngdì" gasped Wonton.

But do not be too worried by this apparent disaster. After just a few minutes of extreme panic, the coffin box turned up, lodged into the boundary fence on the far side of the yard and undamaged, and a French military transport rumbled into the yard and a squad of legionnaires tumbled out and dispersed around the yard. Although they were all pointing their guns at the group! 

Their corporal explained that they were investigating the explosion and he just wanted to clarify who this group was, who was in charge, who the group was working for, and "what the hell happened to that car?"

Mesmer took point on these requests and the group was soon offered a ride back to Heroux's camp.

"No touch vox" commanded Wonton, "And must put on voof"

Two of the soldiers immediately slung their guns over their shoulders, grabbed the box by its two handles and start to carry it across towards the truck.

"Nooo" yelled Wonton, "I say no touch vox"

The two soldiers stopped, carefully put the box down, unslung their guns, and opened fire. Their eyes had glazed over and rolled back in their heads, and they fired indiscriminately at everyone. The one with the rifle killed one of his companions while the one with the SMG missed with his first burst. To their credit, the rest of the legionnaires were quick to return fire, and the party were quick to dive for cover.

After a few bursts of gunfire, the two possessed legionnaires were down, along with four of the main squad. Fortunately, none of the group were even scratched.

The legionnaire corporal refused any more of his men to handle the box, and loaded his survivors into the truck, along with poor Bernard [suffering from the dreaded marmalade and just a dead weight to the group] and Felix who was very keen to get cleaned up and report to Inspector Heroux, and they all rumbled off towards the camp.

Gazala and Jean stood guard over the box, from a healthy distance of around fifteen meters. In fact, they sheltered inside the mansion, at the waiting room window, where they could see the box, but were the farthest from it they could get.

An old Citroen is found

Cooper and Mesmer led the rest of the group out into the city to "commandeer" a replacement vehicle, and eventually returned with a dinged up old Citroën. Pickings were slim, but Cooper managed to get the wheel straightened and the engine started.

Wonton led the efforts to manoeuvre the box into the boot and then the group all clambered aboard. They wisely avoided using the rear seat, so no one was too close to the influence of the box, and to achieve that they had to have two standing on each running board as they slowly and carefully made their way back to camp.

Four silver ingots have been sourced

Back at camp, the group find that Inspector Heroux has assigned Felix to their team to support the ongoing investigations with his excellent knowledge of the city and its less salubrious underbelly. Heroux has also managed to obtain four ingots of silver as per the request to obtain such, to line the various containers that had been commissioned for storing the Coffin and Censure. Heroux also reported that one of the guards on watch over the Censer a night ago had gone all glassy eyed and tried to open the box containing the Censer. He had a pile of cloves and other spices with him. He was shot dead.

The group were generally feeling rather battered, with party members suffering major wounds and much damage from their recent battles. A dose of medicine and overnight rest in the camp sick bay was ordered, and everyone tucked in for the night.

Jean woke in the morning feeling slightly improved, but reported to the group regarding his strange dream, in which the Bretagne had fired another barrage of artillery, right at the camp! It was decided that Jean should immediately radio back to the Bretagne and cancel any firing authority he currently held, for a period of 72 hours. No exceptions.

Mesmer woke in the morning having not had much rest. His three-heads relic tried their chanting spell every thirty minutes or so, and Mesmer had to keep half an ear open all night, and repeatedly put a stop to their magical shenanigans. Wonton confirmed that the three heads should not be separated from each other, so Mesmer would just have to keep at it while they were with him.

Over breakfast, the group discussed the plans for the next few days. Injuries still abounded, and healing was one of the priorities. The stone sarcophagus commission was expected to be completed tomorrow, and the Censer needed to be dealt with. Silver was available!

The first plan of action was to embed the Censer within one of the silver ingots. Cooper scavenged up an appropriate furnace and melted down one of the silver ingots. Wonton cautiously lowered the Censer into the molten silver, and it was set aside to cool. Later in the day, once it had cooled sufficiently to potentially handle, both Wonton and Mesmer cast their Detect Mythos spell to check the effectiveness of the silver encasement.

"Nufing" reports Wonton. [He failed his spell roll]
"Definitely much weaker" contradicted Mesmer. [He made his spell roll]

Throughout the rest of the day there were no reports of additional cloves, caraway, or harissa appearing anywhere around the camp. An apparent success from the silver encasement.

More rest and healing overnight (except for Mesmer, who was now looking very weary indeed).

Jean woke in the morning feeling slightly improved, and again reported to the group regarding another strange dream, in which the Bretagne had fired another barrage of artillery, directly impacting the skeleton coffin box and blowing it open! The group rushed out to the heavily guarded tent where the coffin box was being held. Fortunately, not a prophetic dream, as nothing had happened. 24 hours had now passed since Jean's firing authority had been cancelled for 72 hours.

Today was another rest day for the group.

That evening the stone sarcophagus was delivered, and that night Jean had another dream of shells from the Bretagne exploding in the camp, blowing the group to pieces. In the morning, 48 hours had passed since Jean's firing authority had been cancelled for 72 hours.

Cooper reheated the makeshift furnace and the remaining three silver ingots were melted down and poured into the stone sarcophagus's cavity. Wonton led the careful relocation of the coffin box (without anyone touching it or even coming within one meter of it) to the workshop, and the box was carefully and slowly lowered into the molten silver. As the box settled onto the small packers placed into the bottom of the stone cavity, the molten silver just overflowed the top of the box, perfectly filling the cavity. The stone lid was lowered on and sealed shut.

"Tiny Mythos only" smiled Wonton, "much tiny"

Jean woke the next morning feeling fully well, and happily reported to the group that there had been no strange dreams of artillery shells or explosions.

But Felix did have a dream! 

The Left-Hand relic

You may not recall, but when Mesmer took the three heads relic from Herschel's locked drawer, he also retrieved a skeletal left hand. This was another relic that Herschel had purchased from the infamous auction and stashed away in his collection. Felix related that he had dreamed a dream regarding his left hand. He had found a nice sharp knife and chopped his own left hand clean off. There was no pain, and he had pushed the skeletal left hand onto the fresh stump where it smoothly attached itself.

"It was really cool" Felix related, "And I had sooo much strength. It was awesome"
"Oh, for goodness sakes" grunted Mesmer, "And no, you can't have it"

72 hours had now passed since Jean's firing authority had been cancelled, for 72 hours. Theoretically, Jean could now call in an artillery barrage. Time for the group to move off and not remain stationary for too long. There were no recent reports of ghoul activity from the city, and the residents were beginning to return. Wonton desperately wanted to go to the research library, but that had not yet been opened. Other options were discussed. 

The silver sealed sarcophagus was loaded up onto a French truck, commandeered from the motor pool, complete with radio equipment, and the group piled on board and headed into the Medina. They were going to talk to Madame Peltier, the proprietor of the mystic shop located there. She had proven somewhat helpful previously and the hope was she would prove helpful again.

Nope, she wasn't. But she did say that Tariq (the nasty) was the other purchaser of relics at the auction, and it could be dangerous to approach his desert compound. Apparently, he had hundreds of deadly Arab guards stationed there.

"That's us then" said Mesmer, "let's go"

Using the trucks fancy radio, Jean made contact with the Bretagne and confirmed that his firing authority was only to be reinstated for 48 hours, then rescinded for a further 72 hours. No exceptions. And then they headed back to the camp to drop some of the magic, before heading into the desert to visit Tariq. We left Tala's Mirror, the Censer, the Sarcophagus, and the Hand under guard at the camp, and took Mesmer's Three Heads, Gazala's knife, and Cooper's soapstone Amulet.

"He hates me" noted Gazala, "I had better pretend to be betrothed to one of you"
Gazala looked around the party and decided that Jean would be the best option of a bad bunch.
"You" she commanded, "You will be my betrothed"