CM:  You're lying at the foot of a full length mirror, face down on what feels like an expensive carpet. Looking up, you can see that you're in the entrance hall of a luxuriously appointed, but less than palatial, house.

Francis scrambles awkwardly to his feet.

Riker stands, muttering curses, pistol still in hand.  Rivera's got, what, a few seconds' head start...?

CM:  Yeah, a few seconds. You can hear footsteps racing away from the house, into the night. To your left is what must be the front door, currently open to the night. Across the hall from you is an open door, revealing behind it a lounge remarkably similar to the one in Rivera's lair. A home-away-from-home perhaps? PCN rolls, please.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 12 [12]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 36 [36]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 69 [69]

Francis examines his arms and sleeves carefully. "I seem to be alive."

Benny: "Whaddya know? So am I!"

Smile puts his hand up. "Technically, I'm not either."

Riker paces around the room, taking stock of the surroundings.  "Oh, super," he mutters.  "Ok, next question...where th' fuck are we?"

Francis scans the letters. "Rivera's bolthole?" he answers absently.

Private message from CM to Francis:  PCN roll for a quick scan.
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 25 [25]
Private message from CM to Francis:  The first concerns business transactions Rivera was conducting for Cabot.
Private message from CM to Francis:  The second details the allocation of funds from an offshore account for the paying off of a Vatican official in charge if the Museum of Antiquities, and inquires as to whether Rivera recieved a package from Cabot, as his presence would be appreciated at a forthcoming dinner party.
Private message from CM to Francis:  The third talks about the dinner party at Cabot's estate, at which Rivera seems to have been a great success, and makes mention of an alchemical text in Cabot's library that Rivera wanted to borrow.

Francis:  "Running for help, I'd imagine..."

Riker:  "Fuck this shit."  Riker sprints out the door, pursuing Riviera.  "C'mon, man!"

Benny:  "Francis, keep the flute in your hand."

CM:  A dreadlocked figure is pelting down a brick inlaid path towards a massive, turreted house nestled amongst the trees and bathed in moonlight.

Francis nods absently, absorbed in the letters. "I'll catch up..."

CM:  Rivera has a good lead, but the path is straight and there's no cover.

Riker:  "Awwwww, shit," hisses Riker.  He sprints, trying to catch up with the dreadlocked Riviera, ostensibly to open up a Can of Whup-Ass on his sorry tail.

Benny grabs Francis by the arm and pulls him. "Come on! You can read them later!"

Francis stumbles after Benny, still reading.

Private message from CM to Riker:  WPR roll
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 37 [37]
Private message from CM to Riker:  He's going to reach the house before you catch him...

Benny:  "Spooky house.  I think we are headed for a showdown, and I don't know how I feel about this."

Francis:  "Hmmm?  We just do it, Mr. Fitzpatrick."

Benny:  "I guess there is always a first time for everything, right? And next time you call me Mr. Fitzpatrick I'll call you Frank. how's that?"

Francis:  "Mmmmmhmmmm..."

Riker says, just loud enough for Riviera to hear, "Right on your ass, boy."  With the punk running, if he turns his head...

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 83 [83]

Benny:  "He's gone..."

Riker is all over him, in a diving tackle.

CM:  Roll it

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 14 [14]

CM:  Rivera's head slams into the path, and there's a nasty cracking sound. He struggles weakly.

Benny: "And the quarterback is toast!"

Riker:  "That is why I shoulda gone into football, instead'a being a private dick."  He twists Riviera's arm behind his back, and slaps a pair of strip 'cuffs on the guy.  "Because I hate voodoo bullshit.  C'mon, genius...wakey-wakey.  Got some questions for your sorry ass."

Benny walks up to Rivera and doesn't even flinch.

CM:  Rivera laughs, his dread locks bobbing wildly as he is wracked with both pain and unholy mirth. "Ask all you want. You're too late," he gurgles, spitting blood. "Cabot has the Grail, and the time is right. Nothing can stop...Varinae casting off His ch-chains and reclaiming us, His flock...He's waiting for you..." The fanatical light in his eyes dims, and goes out.

Riker:  "First goddamn time this shit's gone right since we started..."  He watches the dim bulb over Rivera's head go out.  "Or not.  Well, shit..."  Dreadlocked head is dropped, coolly.  "Luck's gonna turn our way some time, right?"  He stands.  "Into the valley of death strode the four..."

Benny:  "I hate Salem, I hate Boston, I hate Massachusetts, and I hate dreadlocked voodoo hockies who serve powerful but crazy vampires..."

Francis folds the letter he's reading and tucks it into his inside jacket pocket.

Benny:  "I know Carla will resist.  I hope it's enough"

Francis:  "Come, gentlemen, time's awasting."

Benny:  "Well said..."

CM:  Roll percentiles please.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 81 [81]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 89 [89]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 21 [21]
Private message from CM to Francis: You get a sudden crawling sensation down your spine.

Smile looks up as a cloud crosses the moon. "Got a bad feelin'."

Benny:  "What else is new, Smile?"

Smile: "Real bad feelin'."

Francis:  "Oh, dear..."

CM:  Something is rushing towards you through the night. Moonlight gleams on pale grey fur, then something smacks heavily into Riker, knocking him sideways off the path. The air is full of snarling. As the cloud passes from the moon, you see the source of the sound. Wolves!

Riker mutters, "Whoa-o!  Imagine that...a bad feelin..."  The rest is cut off by the hurtling grey form.  Riker spits out sod, and tries to regain his feet.  "Fuck!  Fucking dogs!"  He swings one arm around, clubbing at the best, while the other, encased in a nice leather jacket, is thrown up in defense.

CM:  Riker, the animal snaps at your face, spraying you with saliva and keeping you on the ground.

Benny grabs the shotgun and looks to see if Francis is ok.

CM:  The pack surrounds you, nipping at your heels, darting in to attack while you're dealing with the others. They're big animals, heavy with muscle and fur, their ears flattened against their skulls with rage.

Francis waves at Benny, indicating Riker as the one in need of assistance.

CM:  "Nice doggy," mutters Smile. "Back off!"

Benny puts the muzzle close to the wolf on top of Riker and pulls the trigger.

CM:  *BOOM!* The Wolf's head is gone, adding to the mess that  coats Riker.

Benny:  "I love pointblank and a shotgun."

CM:  Riker, as you shove the dead thing off you, another wolf comes snarling out of the night.

Riker rolls onto his stomach, and pushes himself up, pistol in hand. Surprise is lost, so the next best thing is to..."Run!"

Francis shrugs and puts the flute to his lips, blowing on it experimentally as he runs.

Private message from CM to Francis:  Dex roll
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 58 [58]

Francis lowers the flute with an embarrassed look.

Benny:  "Let's head for the house."

Francis: "I rather doubt he's performing his ceremony at the house, Mr..er.. Benny."

Benny:  "Where then? Riker, you still have that thing that puts little red dots on things and then blows a hole in them, right?"

Riker:  "Yeah, I got it..."

CM:  The wolves bound after you, snarling their rage and snapping at you.

Riker keeps running, making damn sure people're following.  "House.  Cover."  He doesn't take a shot, not yet.  Wait for an opportunity to lead 'em off a cliff or something...

Francis follows, not nearly as gracefully.

CM:  The house looms, brooding in the light of the full moon.

Riker:  "Goddamn fucking spookshow shit..."  He beelines it for the door.  Sure, it's a trap, but there ain't no other cover, and there's more dogs than he's got bullets...

Benny runs beside Francis, puffing "why wouldn't the ceremony be in the house?  Does it need a special place?  Like holy or unholy ground?"

CM:  The big door opens easily, spilling you into the glow of a hallway.

Francis:  "A ceremony of such critical timing is probably tied to a particular place."

CM:  Smile barrels through the door like a steam train.

Benny jumps inside and stands fatigued and sweating.

Francis stumbles in after him.

Riker slams the door and leans hard against it, soon as everyone's in.

Benny:  "Well, they want us inside, that's for sure. Maybe this place has some significance that we don't know about?"

Riker:  "I hate dogs I hate dogs I hate dogs..."

CM:  The door slams shut, and the clack of the bolt seals the wolves outside. The door shudders momentarily as furry bodies slam into it, then all is silent.

Riker holds up a hand, panting, sweating.  "Gimme just a couple'a minutes to catch my breath..."

CM:  The house is a grand, sprawling construction. The walls are panelled in rich, dark oak, mahogany and teak. A vast main staircase rolls upwards from the center of the main hall like a tidal wave, the dense red carpet resembling a river of blood. Everything about this place speaks of wealth and the power of accumulated ages.

Riker:  "Castle fuckin' Dracula.  Enter freely an' of your own free will..."

Benny takes the time to put in a few more shells almost absentmindedly while looking all around.

CM:  The decor in here is disturbing to say the least. Wierd and obscene statues, unsettling figurines of hopefully unreal creatures, and paintings depicting scenes of monstrous depravity with chilling realism are displayed with the loving pride of the collector here.

Francis:  "Enter freely, go safely, and leave behind a little of the happiness you bring."

Private message from CM to Francis:  Occult Lore roll, please.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 27 [27]
Private message from CM to Francis:  Just about everything you see here has occult significance. Lining the walls of this house are some of the most infamous occult artifacts in history. If anything, Cabot may have done the world a favour by taking these cursed and tainted items out of circulation. You find yourself itching to find the library, and it's only with effort that you focus on the task at hand.

Benny:  "If you ask me, it's too late for that.  But I'm all for moving around."

Francis drifts toward one of the more macabre pieces with all of the self-control of a moth at a bug-zapper. "This is just extrordinary..."

Riker:  "If that fuckin' thing turns into a monster...dammit, Francis, stop that, man..."

Francis:  "These are some of the most infamous occult artifacts I've ever heard or read of.  Legendary.  Why, this one--"

CM:  The hallway is huge, the ceiling lost in shadow.

Riker drags Francis along.  "Ok, we got guns...what else can we use for protection, Francis?"

Francis:  "Protection?  Oh, dear..."

Riker:  "Right.  Anything that makes vampires or demon-eating mosters go away?"

Smile:  "Anyone got a crucifix?" mutters Smile. "I'm thinking of getting religion."

Benny:  "Not me, that's for sure."

Francis smiles slyly and pulls an ornate crucifix from a pocket, offering it to Smile.

CM:  "Maybe not."

Benny:  "If I survive this, I have to think over  few things."

Riker:  "I gotta little one, St. Christopher's medallion, but..."

CM:  PCN rolls please.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 11 [11]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 75 [75]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 67 [67]
Private message from CM to Benny:  You hear something move above you.

CM:  Out of the darkness above you, four figures drop silently onto the floor. Surrounding you, they are slender and beautiful, two men and two women, armed with oriental looking swords and pistols. Obviously vampires, they each have a shock of white hair. Init rolls please.

Benny rolled 1d10 for a total of 1 [1]
Francis rolled 1d10 for a total of 3 [3]
Riker rolled 1d10 for a total of 4 [5]
Smile rolled 1d10 for a total of 5 [5]
Vampire 1 rolled 1d10 for a total of 6 [6]
Vampire 2 rolled 1d10 for a total of 5 [5]
Vampire 3 rolled 1d10 for a total of 5 [5]
Vampire 4 rolled 1d10 for a total of 1 [1]

Benny:  "OH GOD!!"

Francis crosses himself.

Riker:  "Fuckin' ninja-ass vampires..."  He takes aim...not at the people, that won't work...but at the weapons...

Private message from Francis to CM:  Luck to still have salt in my pocket?
Private message from CM to Francis:  Roll it.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 75 [75] - FAIL

CM rolled 1d4 for a total of 4 [4]

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 2 [2]

Riker:  Betcher sweet British ass I am...

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 30 [30]

Riker does the simple -- gun in face, goes boom.

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 33 [33]

Riker attempts to snag the sword whilst the living dead is distracted.  "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil..."

Private message from CM to Riker:  Dex roll
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 64 [64] - FAIL

CM:  The second vampire tries to strike at Francis, but the crucifix holds her off. Francis, your move.

Francis:  "In the name of the Father, The Son and the Holy Ghost, I bid thee depart."

Benny:  "I knew it... this is useless."

Francis:  "Faith, Benny! A piece of the True Cross would be convenient about now."

CM:  The second vampire recoils from Francis as though sprayed with acid. The third vampire strikes at Benny.

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 21 [21]

Benny:  "Keep away, you fiend!!!" Benny dodges like crazy.

Francis turns toward Benny's attacker, thrusting the cross toward it.

CM:  The leech dives forwards and practically runs into the crucifix. There's a hiss and the thing recoils.

Francis speaks. Latin, rich and magnificently holy sounding, rolls off his tongue.

Benny:  "Objects of Faith.  In what do I have faith?"

Riker:  "Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me...Benny, man!  You got faith in Carla!  Use it!"

CM:  As Francis intones, the fourth vampire slashes at his unprotected back with her his sword.

Francis:  "In God, Benny.  In the power of His name!"

CM:  "Nooo!" Smile leaps forward, intercepting the blade as it swings down towards Francis. With a sickening crunch it scythes through his arm, cutting it off just below the elbow. The heavy weapon continues it's arc, hacking through ribs, heart and lungs, before embedding itself in his pelvic bone.

Riker:  "Shit!"  Riker's still trying to grab the sword while the bloodsucker's distracted...

CM:  Smiles screams. Eyes wide in disbelief, he stumbles back, dragging his intestines out in a bunch as his ribs spring open, spilling his organs onto the floor.

Francis raises the crucifix in his left hand, his right lifted in benediction.  The words take on a ritual singsong that is familiar.

Private message from CM to Francis:  Wpr roll
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 24 [24]

Francis's voice rises, a rolling thunder, and you recognize the ritual of exorcism.

Benny moves to one of the swords and with it impales one of the undead. Aiming for the heart, he puts his body behind the sword and uses his weight to drive it forward.

CM:  Str roll

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 4 [4]

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 3 [3]
Private message from CM to Benny:  Behind the thrashing vampire, you can see light coming through the crack in the panelling.

Smile tries to laugh, but coughs instead, blood filming over his lips.

Riker:  "You want me to end it quick, man?"

CM:  "Finish those bastards off first."

Benny grabs another of the swords and stands besides Smile "This one is for you and for all the others..."

CM:  The vampire nailed to the walls is thrashing and screeching like a banshee. Then it erupts in flame...

Benny:  "Fire...Varinae..."

Francis continues to intone, his face lit with a wild sort of joy.

Benny goes to the next writhing vampire and uses the sword on him.

CM:  The leeches are no challenge now. Together, you finish them off in short order. One by one, they burst into flame.  Though fierce, the fire seems oddly self-contained, refusing to spread.

Francis pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, mopping his flushed face.  "That was... remarkable."

Benny:  "You saved our lives Francis..."

Smiles coughs, blood bubbling out with every gasp. "Sh...shit. I l-liked this bod-body too. Guess I <cough> won't be able to k-kick Varinae's ass after all." He gestures to Francis closer to come closer.

Francis eyes Smile uncertainly but kneels next to the fallen demon.

Private message from CM to Francis:  Dipping a finger into the ruin of his chest, he stares at the crimson fluid. "The blo-blood is the life, Francis. More for us than humans, the blood is the life," he gasps, forcing the words out. "Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh." He fumbles a dented hipflask out of his pocket, and empties the contents onto the floor. "U-use it," he whispers, pressing the empty flask into your hands. "Blood of my blood..." His eyes roll up into his skull, and with a rattling breath, he is gone.

Benny looks to the wall where the first vampire was impaled and pulls out that sword carefully.

Riker:  "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."  Sword in one hand, gun in the other, he looks like some sort of post-modern swashbuckler.  "We've gotta get a move on..."

Benny:  "Any ideas on how to produce vast quantities of fire? I sure haven't"

Francis leans close to Smile, and when he leans back with a horrified look, he's holding a silver flask. He carefully presses the flask against Smile's torn body, squeezing blood into the flask.

Riker blinks.

Francis:  "He... he said... The blood is the life. Use it.  We need every weapon we can find."

Riker shakes his head.  "We're not gonna haveta pour that shit all over the place are we...?"  He blinks.  "I gotta plan...if we can find the Grail."

Francis:  "He said... 'blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh', quoting the Last Supper.  That makes me think that we should put it in the Grail... we'll decide when we find it.  Time is short, gentlemen."

Benny:  "It's worth a try..."

Riker:  "Benny...find Carla, man."

Benny:  "It's not like that... but I'll do it anyway." Benny closes his eyes and concentrates.

Private message from Benny to CM:  telepathic sending
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 64 [64]
Private message from CM to Benny:  you call out, but there is no reply. She may be unconscious...or worse.

Riker:  "Think they killed her?"

Benny:  "I don't think...  " He stares at the cracked wall panel. "Hey guys? Check this out."

Riker stops for a moment, and squints at the cracked wall.  "Star light, star bright..."

Benny slashes the wall with his sword.

CM:  With little effort, you can pull away the cracked panelling, revealing the concealed passageway beyond. Steps lead down into the darkness. A single low wattage bulb provides illumination here.

Riker:  "Well...shit on me.  Let's go this'a way, boys..."

Benny:  "Right behind you..."

Francis clutches the bloody flask in one hand, the crucifix in the other, and follows Benny.

CM:  At the bottom of the stairs is a small well. Sturdy metal steps, bolted to the wall of the well, lead downwards.

Riker picks his way down the steps, carefully.

Benny:  "Do you think there is any way we can take out the powder from these shells?" Benny holds one of the red shotgun shells.

Riker:  "Sure.  You just open it up, man.  Why d'you ask?"

Benny:  "I still have more than a few and it looks like they won't be much use.  You never know when you need to start a fire."

Riker hands over his lock-blade knife.  "Good idea.  I got a couple flares left, too."

Benny gets to it.

Francis's lips are moving silently, his eyes closed - he appears to be praying.

CM:  The ground trembles slightly...Are you still moving, or have you stopped while Benny does his thing?

Riker:  "Ohhh, shit..."  He keeps moving.

Francis:  "Time, gentlemen..."

Benny stops doing his thing and keeps moving.  "Maybe later... If there is a later."

CM:  The ladder goes down for maybe thirty or forty feet before dropping into a narrow circular tunnel, just over six feet across. The tunnel walls are smooth and slick, carved from the bedrock and leading down. Far from being cold, the air here is moist and damp with the scent of decay. Are you moving on?

Benny:  Yes

Francis:  "Yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I will be not afraid..."

Benny:  For the first time in his life Benny finds those words comforting.

CM:  After a short while, your downward journey is interrupted by a circular wall of metal made of interlocking crescent shaped segments. There's an odd-looking glyph on the wall next to the iris door, etched in the bottom of a concave depression with a short, thin spike in it's center.

Riker:  "Francis, man...what the fuck is that?"

Private message from CM to Francis:  Occult Lore Roll, please.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 42 [42]
Private message from CM to Francis:  It's some form of power glyph. They're normally activated by fresh, living blood, hence the spike.

Riker grimaces.  "How much?"

Francis leans forward, pressing his hand against it.

CM:  Francis, as you press your hand against the glyph, the spike penetrates your palm, sending a shock of pain up your arm. Blood wells around the wound, trickling onto the glyph, which glows briefly. With a grinding sound, the iris door gapes wide for you. Echoes of the sound ripple down the tunnel as it continues on the othe side. A foetid stench wafts out of the tunnel that makes you shudder; the reek of ancient death lying hungrily in wait.

Francis grits his teeth and manages not to cry out.

Riker:  "I was gonna do that, man..."

Francis:  "Just pulling my share of the load, Mr. Riker."

Riker sticks the pistol in its holster, and strikes a flare with his free hand.  "You done that an' twice again, Francis.  You survive this, I'll take you out to the best restaurant in town."

Francis:  "I never turn down a free meal."

Riker grins, briefly.  "Then let's rock this party, huh?"

CM:  The walls in this part of the tunnel are different, more ornamented. Set into the walls is a frieze of smooth black marble, depicting images of a crawling, writhing, bat-winged, savage thing with countless gaping hungry mouths in battle with creatures like stars. Oddly, much of the border of the frieze resmbles nothing so much as it does micro-circuity. PCN rolls, please.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 94 [94]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 48 [48]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 79 [79]
Private message from CM to Francis:  There's a faint vibration, like distant machinery...

Francis:  "Machinery," Francis says quietly.  "Distant - can you feel it?"

CM:  Now that Francis has drawn your attention to it, you can all sense a distant vibration, a hum of contained power in the walls and floor.

Riker:  "Gears of th' Damned, right?"

CM:  The tunnel narrows and closes in, becoming rougher in texture as it spirals down into the bowels of the Earth. The going is hard, the floor is slippery smooth with tha passage of countless feet over thousands of years, and you find yourselves constantly in danger of losing your balance. After another hundred yards or so, the tunnel abruptly opens out again, and what meets your eyes beyond the tunnel tells you that no matter what you've faced up until this point, you're in some serious shit now.

Riker whispers, all the humor gone from his voice, "Well...fuck me..."

CM:  The chamber beyond is vast, a perfect sphere maybe two hundred yards in diameter. Its walls are some kind of fused crystal, millions of facets darkly reflecting colours and shades unlike anything you have seen before. Four pillars jut from the sides of the chamber towards it's center. At the axis where they meet is a huge sphere, who's utterly black surface crawls with discharges of energy.

Francis crosses himself.

CM:  The sphere is so completely black that it's almost blinding, casting a sickening anti-radience across the chamber. By contrast the pillars that support it glow so intensely they almost seem to be made entirely of light. The chamber seems filled with a powerful, subsonic hum that creeps sullenly into your bones.

Benny stares with his jaw hanging.

CM:  Beneath each pillar lies a tunnel entrance, at least twenty feet wide, with a disturbingly organic appearance. By the one to your left sits a pair of jeeps, incongrous in this place of ancient madness.

Riker:  "Sheeeeit, Francis...what is that thing?"  Even Riker, not the most religious sort, crosses himself and fumbles for a moment with the medallion under his shirt.

Private message from Francis to CM:  What IS it?
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 9 [9]
Private message from CM to Francis:  Legends have told of demonic beings like Varinae and Marak the Destroyer being chained in the hearts of dead stars. Could that thing be a...black hole?

Francis stares up at the sphere, horrified. "Legends tell of demonic beings being chained in the hearts of dead stars.  Could that be a... a captive black hole?  I've never seen anything like it..."

Riker squeezes his eyes shut.  "That's him, right?  Black hole to hold the demon-eater...Fuggit, man...Francis, just point me in th' right direction, an' let's get on with this before I break an' run, okay?"

Benny slowly walks towards the huge pyramid.

Cabot:  "Ah. Excellent. I was beginning to think you'd never make it."

CM: The man standing on the pyramid is tall and powerful, his long white hair swept back from his forehead and draped across his shoulders.

Francis:  "Mr. Cabot, I presume?"

CM:  His clean-shaven face is lined but curiously youthful, and his eyes are a startling blue. He's elegantly dressed in a pure white three-piece suit of italian design, and looks more like an eccentric stockbrocker or rockstar than a lord of the undead. Behind him stand two of his white haired vampires, carrying between them the bloodied and battered form of Carla. It's impossible to tell if she's breathing.

Benny:  "Cabot..."

Riker can't help himself.  They've been spotted, and he says, falsetto -- "Heyyyy, Caaabot..."

Benny:  "YOU MONSTER!!" Benny starts running towards Carla...

Cabot:  "Correct Dr Walters. And correct, Mr Fitzpatrick. I'm feeling rather pleased with myself tonight, and I'd hate for my mood to be ruined by having to pull the head of this charming young woman. Lay your weapons down. They make a lot of noise and I can assure you they'll do little good anyway. If you behave, she'll live."

Private message from Francis to CM:  Slip the flask into my pocket, if I can...
Private message from CM to Francis:  Done.

Cabot:  "Very sensible Mr Fitzpatrick. Are your friends as smart as you are?"

Private message from Benny to CM:  He keeps the small blade Riker gave him in his pocket along with the silver key.
Private message from CM to Benny:  Noted.

Cabot:  "On the contrary Mr Riker. I'm far from stupid. If I kill you all, on what will I feed? No, far better to culture you and cull you sensibly. Mankind is a valuable resource I'd be foolish to squander. With luck, you might last a hundred years, maybe more. Time is on my side. And when I finally do consume the last dregs of this world, I'll be more than powerful enough to take on my treacherous brethren below."

Francis:  "Mr. Riker... Alan... do as he says."

Riker scowls, and tosses the sword aside.  "For you, Francis, yeah.  for Benny, sure.  Carla even.  Not this cheap-ass hustler."

Cabot:  "You're so much smarter than that Mr Riker. I'm quite the fan. Please don't lower my opinion of you with pointless shows of masculine bravado."

Riker dumps the pistol, too, with a scowl.  "Gotta live up to th' type, man," he mutters.  "So, you expectin' us to just stand here an' let you do this?"

Cabot:  "You're hardly in a position to do anything about it. In case you're wondering about Jophiel crashing the party, don't." Cabot points to a large, X-shaped construction near the cavern's far wall. Chained to it and struggling mightily is the enraged figure of Jophiel/Gordon. He is guarded by another two of Cabot's white-haired thralls, armed with machine guns. "I should tender my thanks. After your last encounter at the morgue he was left in quite a state. It took comparatively little effort for my people to capture him."

Private message from CM to Francis:  Occult Lore roll, please.
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 5 [5]
Private message from CM to Francis:  It's a Sorcerer's Cross, an enchanted device designed to turn a prisoner's power back at himself. They're supposed to be impossible to escape from.
Private message from Francis to CM:  Ah hell... anything we can do to circumvent it?
Private message from CM to Francis:  Free him yourself. That's about it. They are only supposed to stop the person tied to it from escaping.

Cabot:  "Now that you're here, we can begin. You don't mind if we cut to the chase, do you? We did all the boring chanting and handwaving before you arrived."

Benny:  "Why haven't you killed us three?  Surely you mean to feed on more than us."

Francis moves forward with Riker. "What is our part to be in this, Mr. Cabot?"

Cabot:  "Witnesses to my acension, dear boy."

Benny also starts walking gingerly towards the undead figure.

Riker:  "Look, pal...I been shot at, blown up, locked up in jail, faced demons, that crazy-ass fruitcake over there...I am not inna mood to play James Bond shit with you."  Still walking forward.  "War form's in the dead star, right?  Point singularity.  An' you want us to sit here an' watch you, play up to your ego?  Gimme a break."

Benny:  "Witnesses?  You mean this is a show?  For us?"

Francis:  "What makes you think Varinae will not simply consume you, Mr. Cabot?"

Cabot:  "Don't be silly. I AM Varinae."

Riker:  "Yeah yeah yeah...like he's Jophiel. Personally, I don't care if you're God Almighty. I am gonna kick your ass so hard that your albino pansies over there are gonna feel it.  We've been to Hell, genius...you think this scares any'a us?"

Cabot frowns. "This is actually distressing. I had anticipated that you wouldn't co-operate, and I do so hate to waste a surprise. I might as well drop the charade." He gestures at the two vampires, who fling Carla from the top of the pyramid. She tumbles bonelessly down the steps, before landing with a crunch at the bottom. "Don't worry. She's already dead. Little bitch managed to kill herself earlier tonight. Opened her wrists with her teeth, believe it or not."

Benny stands stupefied at the display.

Riker puts on his 'I'm not convinced' look, and keeps marching up the pyramid.  "Look, bub..."  Finger stabs out.  He glances at Carla for a moment, then back up. "I'm gettin' real sick of this theatrical bullshit."

Cabot:  "If you insist on being rambunctious Mr Riker, you will have to be disciplined. You're about due for a spanking, and I know just the fellow to do it. I believe you've already met?"

Private message from Riker to Francis:  Man, I hope you got that damn flask ready...

Riker cracks his knuckles. Then he stops. "Ok.  Okay..."  He turns around.  "You are one fucked up ugly sonofabitch, mister."

CM:  The figure that stands behind Riker is a nightmare made flesh, literally. The massive body bears the marks of Louis Rivera, in the heavy stitching and stapling that holds it together. The additional limbs and bladed attachments are obviously his "signature feature". However, it's the eyes that catch your attention, the eyes and the undying hatred they radiate. It's a hatred you've seen reflected in other eyes, other faces. In the mad vagrant in Harvard Square, in a youth standing over the bloody corpse of your partner, and in the eyes of the supernatural serial killer, Kevin Ruppee.

Benny walks towards Carla's body and picks her up in his arms.

Cabot:  "I'd hate for you to feel left out Mr Fitzpatrick. There's someone who wants to see you." A dark suited figure stumbles out of the darkness, head waggling obscenely, coarse sutures marring the flesh of the neck, where the head has been crudely re-attached, probably by the hamfisted Louis Rivera. It's Ishmael Katroni. Fear Roll.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 11 [11]

CM:  "Bennnnnyyyy," gurgles the Ishy thing thickly, strings of blood flecked drool spilling from it's mouth. It shambles towards you, the fire axe in it's left hand dragging along the floor.

Benny:  "Ishy...you too?  But it's no longer you, is it?"

Francis fumbles in his inside pocket for the flute, pulling it out and pressing it to his lips.

Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 99 [99]

Private message from Riker to CM:  Incidentally, Riker is scared out of his wits, nearly pissing his pants...and trying to buy time for everyone else by keeping the bad guys' attention.

Private message from CM to Benny:  It's gone

CM:  init rolls please.

Benny rolled 1d10 for a total of 7 [7]
Francis rolled 1d10 for a total of 9 [9]
Riker rolled 1d10 for a total of 9 [9]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 3 [3]
CM rolled 1d10 for a total of 10 [10]

CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 14 [14]

Riker:  Ohhhh, this is gonna hurt...I am dodging, down down down, towards the bottom of the steps.  We ain't that far up.

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 62 [62]

Riker:  Odd.  Always odd.

CM:  Left arm feels like it's fractured. A haze of agony obscures your vision for a moment. Francis, your move

Riker tumbles down the steps, yelling with pain and anger and shock.  "Izzat the best you can do, medical student?  Fucking flunk-out loser!"  Down, down...keep talking.  "Couldn't even stay dead right!"

CM:  The thing turns and lumbers after Riker...

Francis concentrates on stilling the shaking in his hands and tries to play the flute.

Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 8 [8]

Cabot:  "Come now, Dr Walters. Would I give really Rivera a key for my own constructs?"

Riker:  "Fucking freak!  Cheap-ass, sorry-ass, three-assed...it is three asses, right?  Three-assed WANKER!" Riker is backing down the steps...just a few more feet...just a few more feet.  The taunts keep up.  "Dickless wonder!  LOSER!  Crack addict mother-FUCKER!"

CM:  The construct growls and stumps down steadily, rage and insanity in its stare in equal measure... Benny, your move.

Benny:  "I WILL put you to rest, my friend." Benny runs towards the sword and shotgun while avoiding Ishy's axe.

CM:  The thing swings at Benny as he sprints past. Make a AGL roll.

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 72 [72]
CM rolled 1d100 for a total of 79 [79]

Benny:  "Arrrgghhh!!"

Riker laughs again, eyes casting about for shotgun or pistol.  "I made a fuckin' MINT off'a you, Kevvie...an' you didn't even get star billin'!  That's whatcha wanted, wasn't it?  Weak-ass ego, you got there...an' now you ain't much better...still playin' second fiddle to your betters...somebody just pulllllin' your strings."

CM:  The Rupee thing ROARS, and suddenly something is pouring from it. Not smoke, it is rage made real, a black wave of unholy bile. It swoops down at Riker.

Riker:  "That the BEST you can do?!"  Riker backpedals real fast.  Gun, gun, need a gun or a sword.  "You kill me, boyo, you're still second-best!"

CM:  The cloud of black ectoplasm spews out of the construct, and it topples over, limp. The cloud boils after Riker...

Private message from CM to Riker:  A voice, Rupee's voice, fills your mind. "Gonna be the best Riker. Gonna be YOU."

Riker really, really, REALLY backpedals, and his good hand grabs for the last flare in a pocket.  St. Christopher isn't helping, so...

Francis gasps, taken by surprise

Cabot:  "Much as I hate to admit it, I have need of a pure heart, like yours." Cabot smiles at you, and you watch in horror as his fangs slide into place.

Riker bares his teeth in a caveman snarl.  "The fuck you say, dead boy."  The flare is struck.  "I eat losers like you and shit them out."

CM:  The cloud pounces, swirling around Riker and pouring into his mouth and nose....

Francis shakes his head, mumbling the words of the rite of exorcism as his left hand fumbles for the crucifix in his pocket.

Benny does all he can to shut out everything, and grabs the shotgun.

Riker chokes, stabbing at the darkness with the flare, as if it were a knife, magnesium and phosphorous dripping onto skin and clothing, blistering hot.

Benny turns around quickly and fires at Ishy, as many times as he can.

Cabot slaps the cross away...

Private message from Francis to CM:  ...and while he's focused on that, out comes the flask from the right hand pocket, spraying him with Smile's blood.  If it doesn't bother, him, I drink it...

Private message from CM to Riker:  Rupee is in your mind, trashing your thoughts like a teenage burglar...
Private message from Riker to CM:  Uh...blow him out?  Still stabbing with the flare, and keeping in my head that single-minded determination...Riker's faced worse than this, honest...
Private message from CM to Riker:  WPR roll...
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 40 [40]

CM:  Cabot pulls Francis' arm outstretched, and runs a fingernail down your wrist. Instantly the flesh parts and blood begins to pour into the grail. Quickly the cup is filled, brimming over with your life. Cabot smiles, scooping the cup to his lips.

Francis grabs at it, trying to knock it out of Cabot's hands. "You are NOT the Resurrection and the Life!"

Cabot: "But I AM!!"

Riker twists and turns, broken arm flailing painfully as the inky cloud of Rupee's soul attacks his very being.  He'd yell something pithy and sarcastic, but seems to be a bit busy.

Francis:  "He who believes in you shall surely die."

CM:  Cabot pulls the grail away, and downs the contents with deep gulps...

Benny looks desperately for the sword.

Francis:  "Nooooooo!!!!!"

CM:  Ishy stalks after Benny....

Private message from Riker to CM:  "Still second best, Kevvie...you're screwed six ways from Sunday.  See...you ain't trapping me in here with you...you're trapped in here with me." Riker mentally grabs Rupee as best he can, and lays the smack down on him.
Private message from CM to Riker:  Wpr Roll
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 3 [3]

CM:  Suddenly, Francis drops to the ground. Cabot pauses, looks directly at you and says calmly in a voice not his own, "Get out of here, Francis. I can't hold him for long." It's Smile. Then Cabot's face contorts and he roars with rage, dashing the wooden cup to the ground.

Francis scoops up the cup and scrambles down the pyramid.

CM:  There's a shriek of hatred as the black cloud erupts from Riker in a stream of slime...

CM:  The grounds rumbles. Lighting arcs from the sphere, reaching for Cabot. Cracks begin to spiderweb up the walls of the cavern.

CM:  Ishy towers over Benny, the axe raised...

Cabot:  "GET OUT OF ME!!" Cabot shrieks, as the flesh on his face bubbles and roils like a rough sea.

Riker's running for Ishy, already, yelling, screaming, "An' THAT'S how we do it on the Hill asshole!"

Private message from Riker to CM: Gonna body check the dead guy.
Private message from CM to Riker:  Roll it
Private die roll from Riker:  1d100Total 58 [58]
Private message from CM to Riker:  Messy but successful.
Private message from Benny to CM:  telepathic sending "Ishy, stop, I'm your friend!"
Private message from CM to Benny:  There's nothing there. It's just a shell
Private message from Francis to CM:  Stumbling backwards down the stairs, trying to figure out if fleeing is the right idea...no...wait... Jophiel.  Can I get to him from here?
Private message from CM to Francis:  Yeah.

Francis skids to a clumsy halt on the stairs and abruptly changes course, sprinting for the cross bearing Jophiel.

CM:  The two vampires on the pyramid top scramble after Francis...

Riker slams into the Ishy-thing, black, rotting blood squirting from its mouth as his shoulder somehow manages to crack ribs and pierce internal organs, throwing it off balance..."BENNY!  FUCK HIM UP!  FUCK HIM UP!"

Private message from Francis to CM:  Can I grab some kind of cutting implement to cut the bonds?
Private message from CM to Francis:  LUCK roll
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 58 [58]

Francis scoops it up without even breaking stride.

Benny once again puts the muzzle to the head of his friend's body and pulls the trigger.

CM:  *BOOM!*  The Ishy-things rotten head explodes like a dropped cantaloupe...

Francis:  "Blessed Lord, guide my hand and my heart!"

Cabot roars in anguish and rage. "KILL YOU!!!," he screams. "DRINK YOU ALL!!"

CM:  The vamps are close behind Francis as he races for the cross bearing Jophiel...

Private message from CM to Francis:  Agl roll
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 47 [47]

CM:  Francis stumbles...

Francis:  "In the name of the Father, The Son and the Holy Ghost - by the purity of the Blessed Virgin Mary--"

Riker:  "NYAHHHHH!  I AM NEVER GONNA GET THAT SMELL OUT!"  He turns and grins at Cabot, then, with great care and deliberation, runs after Francis.  His middle finger on the right pops out and he says, loudly, "BLAH BLAH BLAH!  FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!"

Benny:  "You will pay... dearly..."

CM:  The ground is really shaking now, bucking like a bronco with a burr under its saddle...

Francis loses his balance, skidding across the buckling floor.

Riker:  "WHATEVER YOU'RE GONNA DO, DO IT NOW, FRANCIS!"

CM:  Agl rolls, Benny and Riker...

Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 100 [100]
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 76 [76]

CM:  Riker falls into one of the rotting corpses, and a jutting bone punches through his vest and into his stomach.

CM:  Benny stumbles, and falls to one knee.

Riker:  "Kuuuhuk!"  Riker sits, looking rather dumbly at what's sticking out of him.  "Shit...went right through the vest..."

CM:  The vampires pounce on Francis...

Riker struggles, trying to gain his feet.  Never leave a man behind.

CM:  Jophiel stares impotently down at Francis, less than a foot away...

Private message from Francis to CM:  Strength roll to get free??  So close...
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 58 [58]
Private message from Francis to CM:  Never mind

CM:  Cabot is writhing and screaming at the top of the pyramid...

Francis:  "Dear Lord, give me strength!!"

Riker starts for the cross...if the vamps are all over Francis, their guns are readily at hand...

Francis thrashes under the vampires, fingers tightening around the haft of the axe.  He swings it toward the cross.

Private message from CM to Francis:  Dex roll...
Private die roll from Francis:  1d100Total 28 [28]

CM:  Slowly, so slowly, the cross falls...

CM:  Then...
.
CM:  SMASH!!!!

CM:  The vampires on Francis stop, looking up in awe...

Riker coughs more blood, and grabs the shotgun Benny's dropped.  Levels it at the bloodsuckers, and aims, carefully as he can.  Won't hurt them, but maybe the force of the blast will knock them away.  "MOVE, MAN!  GO!  GO! RUN!"

Benny uses the chance to pull Francis from under the undead suckers.

Francis stares, awstruck

CM:  The figure that rises from the rubble is radiant, almost too bright to look at...."Get out of here," Jophiel barks, his voice resonating in your bones. "I can take care of the rest. Make sure the vampires never find this site again." His face shifts momentarily, becoming that of William Gordon. "Tell them...I'm sorry." Then it hardens, becoming a warrior angel once more.

CM:  "JOPHIEL!! DO IT!!" yells Smile from Cabot's contorted mouth. "I can't...hold him!!"

Riker:  "RUN!  RUN, FOR THE LOVE'A GOD, RUN!"  He books it.

Francis staggers to his feet, stumbling toward Riker

CM:  The two vampires try to run, but they're ash before they've moved two paces...

Benny pulls Francis hard and starts running as if he hadn't been fightin for hours now. "C'MON FRANCIS!!!  MOVE IT!!"

CM:  The place is coming apart as Jophiel glides up the stairs of the pyramid. PCN rolls...

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 21 [21]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 83 [83]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 33 [33]
Private message from CM to Benny:  The jeeps are still there...

Benny:  "To the Jeeps!!"

Riker staggers for the jeeps, grimacing as the bucking stone floor bounces him to his wounded shoulder, then back to his feet.

Benny starts running to the vehicles thinking that there must be some way in and out.

CM:  Light coils out like smoke from the pyramid. Whatever's happening at the peak is already too bright to see, thankfully beyond the range of mortal eyes...

Benny:  He looks back to make sure that both Francis and Riker are following.

CM:  The jeeps sit, incongruous, in front of the tunnel they must have driven down.

Francis tries to hold Riker up as they stumble toward the jeeps.

Benny tries to starts one of the Jeeps as soon as he reaches it and drives it closer to Riker nd Francis.

Riker clambers into the nearest vehicle, with help, still spitting crimson, skin pale and clammy.  "Gotta ged th' fug outta here..."

CM:  The jeep starts first time.

Benny drives out of there as soon as both Francis and Riker are inside.

CM:  Wheels spinning on the crytalline floor, the vehicle bolts into the tunnel, headlights dancing madly from the walls. Behind you, there's a scream, Smile, Cabot, it's impossible to tell. The scream grows louder, deeper, impossibly long for anything human. It becomes a roar, first of agony, then of triumph. Chunks of debris begin to shower down from the tunnel roof, bouncing off the hood of the car. Over the sound of the engine, and the bellows from the cavern, you hear a whispering voice.

"I shall not suffer an evil to live."

CM:  SHRACK...BOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

CM:  The jeep bursts from the tunnel like a cork from a champagne bottle, wheels spinning as it briefly hangs suspended in the air, before slamming down onto the blacktop. Behind you, actinic white light bursts from the tunnel like a geyser, searing away everything before it.

Riker screams -- whether in agony or in sheer, cussed-minded triumph, is impossible to say.

Private message from CM to Benny:  Dex roll to keep control of the car
Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 100 [100]

Benny rolled 1d100 for a total of 33 [33]
Francis rolled 1d100 for a total of 17 [17]
Riker rolled 1d100 for a total of 75 [75]

CM:  The ground continues to tremble for a while, before finally stilling. The light dies, to be replaced by the first rays of the rising sun.

Benny stands up in sheer agony but walks towards Riker, silently hoping.

Riker:  "Urk.  Shit...guys...?  I don't think i'm doin' so hot..."

CM:  Through the haze of semi-consciousness, you can hear the distant wthrumming of a helicopter. It gets closer and closer, until the wind whips up around you and you realise it's going to land. With a whine the rotors slow, and the vehicle hunkers down. A side door opens and a massive, dark skinned man emerges, weapon drawn. Behind him, an older, thinner man steps out.

Private message from CM to Francis:  It's Ellsworth Smythe and Bubba Rodriguez, your colleagues from SAVE Boston.

Benny:  "Great, just what we need."

Francis:  "Mr. Smythe..."

CM:  The thinner man yells something into the helicopter, while the larger man races over to you and begins expertly treating your injuries. One by one, you fall prey to your exhaustion, soaring away into sleep as you realise that, finally, it's over.

FADE TO BLACK. ROLL CREDITS