Jack did the driving of our carriage, and around lunchtime we reached our destination.
On the way to Innsmouth, Ms. Brooks explained that her family members who died young did so by what seems like coincidence. Some did indeed die by what seemed like accidents, including her mother Gertrude from a riding accident while riding alone; but others like her father who died of tuberculosis (though quite young even for that) passed of natural causes. Winston Brooks died at sea in a boating accident at only 27.
Innsmouth is a dirty and rough, bursting with thugs, and really only a village on the seashore. It was founded in 1643, its current population only 367. Fishing is the town industry, though a small refinery of gold is still there, too. A family by the name of Marsh runs the town, known by rumor to be of a decadent sort just like those they lord over…or vice versa. Just before we left we saw Armitage and Wilkinson one last time, to inform them of our plans. A grave look immediately took charge of Armitage’s manor, and what he then told us of brought gravity to the situation at hand, taking our case beyond a mere family mystery and onto the realm of the occult: hints of an evil sea creature of some kind which lives at a place near Innsmouth called Devil’s Reef. Of course, it is at this reef that the lighthouse we sought stands!
No where in this entirety of New England is there not some threat which may be traced to Archimedes’ Mythos or supernatural evils at least. I despair that our group alone is not enough of a force here. Still, we stagger on against it.
Entering the mean streets of Innsmouth, it looked just as we expected. However, I could not hold back upon seeing the denizens, remarking “The Innsmouth Look is no mere look, it’s a problem”. They were evidently not used to many strangers, for it seemed every soul we passed stared at us intently. Ms. Brooks reiterated going to the lighthouse upon our arrival and showed us a letter once there as well, given to Joy Brooks by Bartholomew Tagg of the lighthouse, natural father of Winston.
Will “I think he was maybe not the actual child of Tagg, his mother being a mysterious ‘Sedna’. We know that fouler things exist here, so either that or he was the child of Tagg and some unnatural being.”
She knews not of the whereabouts of the trinket mentioned, but the ‘sins’ refers to a rumor that Tagg murdered his lighthouse partner.
Theo “Many here were lost at sea, perhaps they were themselves partly seabeast and willingly went to sea.”
We made the assembly and records hall by the directions of Moira, both for a charter to take us to the lighthouse, which stands on a rocky outcrop offshore, and our own research into her family. We dropped Will and John off with the women at the records hall on the way, while the rest of us rode for the Innsmouth assembly hall for the boating papers. The clerk, paralyzed it seemed from the waste down, was a repulsive fellow “What can I do for you?”
I began “Well, good sir, we..” and here Jack burst for the “Look, first and formost we’re here to get a charter to Skivern Rock.”
“You don’t want to go there.”
Jack “Yes we do.”
Myself “Indeed we must.”
“You have something to do with Moira don’t ya?”
Will “Moira who?”
Myself “Why we wish to go is our business”.
“She probably hired you to come here, we dont like strangers. She’s an evil woman.”
Myself “The faster you help us the faster we will leave town.”
He walked to a drawer and brought back a bag of coins.
“Here’s 200dollars. Gold. Would you like to earn it.”
Theo “We’s like what we need”.
“There’s $200 just for 1 little (made a geture of slitting his throat).”
Myself “Are you aying you want us to be assassins, dear God.”
“The world wouldn’t miss a bitch like that.”
Jack could not stand that offer, getting very offended “I could as easily kill you and take that $200 for myself, you crippled bastard!”
“I wouldn’t be crippled if not for her”.
Atwater “What exaclty do you mean?”
“She shot me, and the slug is lodged next to my spine.”
Myself “She’s not in prison? You must have deserved it.”
“I could not prove anything. Just take my word for it, and if you stay with her you’re lible to die yourselves.”
Myself “We do our own work, and we do need to get to the lighthosue.”
“Well, we dont have any charters for the likes of you! Now get out!”
Theo “Not yet sir, we seek information on her family as well.”
“Ok, what do you wanna know”.
Myself “NO, no. Official records…births, deaths, local histories and news.”
“That I can allow.”
While our researchers were at work, Atwater noticed the clerk call in a boy, whisper something to him, and the boy run out. Wang followed him to the police, and soon local law enforcement were entering the building.
The constable “So, strangers eh? Have any place to stay?”
Jack “We are only in town for the day.”
Myself “Not stayinhng long enough.”
Constable “Then I suggest you get out of town, before I arrest you for mopery.”
Myself “We are not moping. We are talking with this gentleman here.”
Constable “Mopery it is then, just here with no good reason.”
Will “We are here on business actually.”
The constable sighed and said “If you’re not out by sundown I can’t answer for your health,” then turned and left.
Will “What’s your name, constable? I need to make sure I have this right for my story in the NY Times.”
Constable “John. John Law” and walks out.
Clerk “Get a hurry on here, I wanna lock up.”
In the end, we found corroborating evidence to all she told of her family. Also, a legend from the 1700’s of the Skivern Mermaid, seen by sailors of these shores. In 1750 the lighthouse was build and in 1821 a foghorn was added. First time it was used, the lights and foghors did not come on. Investigation found the mirror smashed and the only evidence of the keepers were blood on the walls.
In the following year, 2 new keeper (Tagg and Andrew Muir) came to the lighthouse. Then, Muir died. Tagg said they got along fine and that he was swept away by a storm, but many knew of them not being on friendly terms and doubted the story. No evidence was ever sufficient to charge Tagg. He lived a very solitary existence there, until coming to town suddenly with a child in his arms, saying it was the survivor of an otherwise unknown shipwreck. Shortly after, the child, Winston, was adopted by the Brooks’s and Tagg disappeared.
Skivern rock has a horrible reputation, of the ‘no one who goes there comes back’ sort.
Passing by a hotel, we took the sign of no vacancy as another example of their hostpitality, so decided to seek out an abandoned house to hide out in, likely a safer choice. Moira mentioned that the old assembly house, now closed, which may have papers within we could steal and forge.
Walking the streets, a small group of men appeared in front of us, blocking our path with no good intentions.
“Strangers eh? We don’t like strangers around here.”
Myself “Just passing through.”
“It’s time for you to leave.”
Myself “Why is everyone here so mean?”
“We’re not mean, we just like our own company. Now get on that wagon and get out of town…now.” Father John tried to calm them with talk of Christ and Catholocism, and they answered by pulling knives. We insisted further that we wanted no trouble as continued on. Taking sidestreets, we came safely the assembly building, parking the wagoon in the rear alley. Jack hauled off and kicked in the dilapidated front door and we began our search, Jack and Theo looking out. Less than an hour later I discovered the proper papers. Then, we slept the night there, keeping a 2 man watch at all times. Thankfully, the night passed uneventfully.
Next morning, we made straight for the docks, finding that most sailors have the ‘look’. Moira suggested we should avoid those particular sailors.
“There is one man, named Dewey Smith, who lacks the ‘look’. He lives in a shack down this way.” We found him working on a net “Oh, strangers! We very seldom get strangers. Nice to meet ya.”
In talking to the man, he must be delusional. He was ever positive, believing only in happy coincidences. He even went so far as to claim Innsmouth is a wonderful place to live, shrugging off their manor toward visitors. He pointed out all the other fishermen once and asked “See all them? Notice anything? They all look kinda like frogs. I think it’s amazing to live around folk who resemble frogs.”
Jack “Keen observation there, pal.”
Smith “It’s a great joke. So, what can I do for you fellas?”
Myself “We have a charter for Skivern Rock.”
Dewey “Sure, I can take you tomorrow.”
Myself “Not today?”
Dewey “Well, I could take ya today. It’s just that I planned on the day off, fixin my nets. But if you must really need to I can take ya today.”
Myself “We should go today. I have a feeling if we stay longer the town will kick us out.” Dewey “What!? They won’t do that. Everyone here is so friendly.”
Theo “You say?”
Atwater “Men just last night pulled knives on us and threatened to cut us!”
Dewey “Ah, you’re obviously mistaken. That was only a joke”. Myself “The constable threatened to arrest us yesterday, and told us to get out of town.”
Atwater “For mopery of all things.”
Dewey “he jokes like that all the time. He’s constanty joking with me.”
Eventually the man got around to business, and we offered extra $ for the inconvenience. $5 would do it, but Jack offered and gave $7. Dewey said we needed to hire one other sailor to help operate a rowboat to row you all in past the rocks around Skivern. “I know a good man. Let’s go up to the Lonely Mermaid tavern”.
Dewey led us up to a man drinking some very stong liquor, named Walter, who asked for spare change. Dewey told him our business and the man said he would not go the Skivern “No one ever returns”.
Dewey said “Ah, just have a couple more beers.”
The man was a Pole who lacked funds to leave town to any desirabe location, and only hired sporadically onto the odd local boat. We paid him $5 after a couple more beers and he acquiesced to assist us.
When arrived at Skivern, both of our employees warned that we were taking our lives into our own hands, and around noon with Walter on the rudder and Jack and Theo rowing, we reached the landing site, through uncharacteristically fairly calm waters for the spot so they said.
On the island is but the lighthouse itself and a hole in the rock going straight down. Walter and Dewey said that no one knows where it goes since it has been so long since anyone has been here and come back. Dropping us off at a broken pier, Walter reversed for Dewey’s boat. Just as it cleared of the rocks, a shape was visible in the deeperr water. Then to our astonishment, something gigantic, more so than anything we have faced before, and grey reached from the water and the tiny boat was broken sunder, pulled into the waters right before our eyes! Walter for a moment floated screaming before being suddenly yanked down below the surface.
Myself “My God!”
Atwater “I think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.” Then, rising out of the sea with a terrific explosion of water came the horrific beast, drenching us all. The creature looked the spitting image of all descriptions we have read of the Great Old One Cthulhu, and John and Theo looked at one another in horror, later naming it as ?. I felt my mind shudder under the visual onslaught, and felt the quiver off my allies even from a distance. A brief whimper from Will snapped me back into motion. From the boat, on a megaphone, Dewey yelled to us “Yoo hoo, signal me when you want to come in!” as if the man didn’t even see the monstrosity.
Theo “Does he not see it?”
Moira “He sees it.”
Jack “He’s insane!”
Moira “The man must see only good in any moment, never the bad”.
Myself “The town must have driven the poor man mad!”
The fact brought with it one positive, we could be sure he was not going to abandon us if the monster didn’t destroy him and his vessel.
Jack “Anyone have a harpoon gun”.
Moira “Get to the lighthouse!”
Stangely, Moira, though not unconcerned, seemed not nearly as phased by what had just occured. Her singlemindedness to the mysteries of Tagg being to such an obsessive degree, it seemed. The move to the structure was somewhat treacherous due to the slipperiness of the path there. I almost slipped over the edge once, as did Jack. Father John did slip, but caught on a good handhold before going over the edge. The monster having disappeared under the waves as quickly as it appeared, we found the door locked by an old and rusted iron padlock.
Jack “We’re not breaking through that then.”
West “Unless we bust it off the old hinges. Let’s give it a go.”
Father John “I could blast it with a shotgun.”
Myself “Atwater, you use your Army .45 and blast the lock”.
Father John “Let me try with my crucifiform-axe.”
A grand idea, and he cleaved it off with the first stroke. We entered, seeing spiral stone steps ascending not ony up, but down to a cellar as well. An unusual addition to such a building. The first room was the kitchen, as well as having a bookshelf of tomes useful for shipping and long-unused fishing gear. On one wall was a painting of a ship on the local coast signed with Tagg as the painter. A close inspection revealed nothing out of the ordinary about the scene depicted. A large but cracked toolchest contained rope, chain and rotten oilskin raingear. The logbook was all in one hand, but for the final entry of the death of Andrew Muir, logged as an accidental drowning. Will examined the log in more detail as I did a fast walk around the room. The log contained nothing unusual, but I did find a closed and waxsealed glass jar in a cupboard full of different colored powders with tiny metallic sparkles. It did not resemble anything even from Bishop’s place.
Jack “I say we split up. Half up and half down.”
We ignored that idea, and I stowed the jar away safely in a pack before we went down. The ladies stayed on the main floor.
The cellar was stacked only with bagged coal for the kitchen, and even a detailed search revealed nothing. Will, being on the thin side and shivering now from cold and wet, recommended we use the coal to start heating the place. On the next floor up, mildewed bedding and footlockers occupied the sleeping quarters. One contained ruined art supplies. There was a second ship painting on the wall, as well as a cupboard housing several more on stretchers. All seemed to be of the same hand, and all of ships that would be local. Very possible these are portraits of actual ships from Tagg’s time. The painting were not like these others, though: An Indian woman standing on a wind swept rock, wearing a talisman. We reconized the talisman as the necklace Moira was wearing!
Will “The trinket in Tagg’s letter? That’s what I would assume, at least.”
There was also a tall locker marked explosives. In it were a dozen antique rocket flairs, launching stand, extra fuses and slow-matches.
West “These could be useful, lets take them out and get them ready to take with us.”
Jack “Like use them to attack a giant monster”.
Myself “Not sure a little flair would hurt that thing much.”
Will “It would probably just anger it more.”
Next floor contained 7 large wooden kegs of whale oil.
Jack “This stuff burns really well.”
Will “Here’s a plan. We attract the creature up to the surface…”
Myself “And make explosives with the oil and flares.”
Will “Or we soak the water around it with the oil and light it with a flare.”
With a quick but throurough search of the room, I found that one of the kegs was mostly empty; another was split on one side, the oil having long ago drained out. Tilting it I could tell it contained something solid. Usingn his axe, Jon cleaved it open revealing several small bricks of solid silver! We tilted and rolled the others, and going by auditory clues they surely contained the same! Moira excitedly pushed past us to the bars.
“They’re mine, mine! They’re my birthright! Give them to me, it’s my silver!”
Theo “Jack settle your woman.”
She opened her handbag and insisted we put the small bricks inside, and so we did. I saw Atwater fingering his small medical pouch on his belt, which I knew to contain a few ready shots of morphine. He was surely thinking about knocking her out with a proper dose.
Will “We are not smashing open all this whale oil yet. We might need those.”
She gave in quick enough with assurances that it was all to be hers.
We began walking up tthe neo xt floor, Jack and Theo leading the way with Moira pressing close behind them. Will hung back intentionally, grabbing me and Atwater aside, and whispering to us that he thought he recognized the amulet now. He recalled seeing a picture of it by chance in a tome recently. It’s supposedly a magic item, with some sort of connection to a fishlike creature.
Atwater “A fishfaced god?”
Myself “Deep One?”
Will “I don’t think so. I think it is one of the 2 creatures the deep ones worship: Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. I think this is of Mother Hydra, if I recall correctly.”
Atwater “You always do.”
Will “If it is the same, it’s of American Indian origin, dating to before Columbus. It provides assistance in spellcasting and is part of Mother Hydra’s worship in this area long ago.” Myself “We need to research that further.”
Atwater “I don’t trust this woman”.
Theolonius asked her “How do you know this silver is yours. It may have been Muir’s.”
Moira “He was dead before my father. What else could he mean by finding my birthright? Do you know what silver is? It’s money,and money makes the world go around. What do you think I was looking for? My birthright! Dollars, money! What do I care about some lighthouse keeper that abandoned my grandfather as a baby. I couldn’t care less about him. What I want is my birthright. I thought there was jewelry, and think there is more than we have aready found. Anything that is here is MINE.”
A close eye did we try keep on Moira from this point on, without needing to pass the word between us. “My precious things I have looked for my whole life.”
Continuing to the next level, and assuring again we had no desire to steal from her, we came to the glass housing for the lamps, 160’ above the sea. A door opened to an outer catwalk. Innsmouth, as well as Newberry north and to the south Kingsport, were easily seen. The lamp was currently out of order, though possibly repairable. Inside the lens housing, on the lamp itself, lay the journal of Barthomew Tagg! Father John opened it and read as I observed our surroundings.
- Entry 1822: Speaks of his job being ‘a grave responsibiity’ but gives him much time to paint. He describes Muir as a ‘bore’ and a ‘fool’ who will not leave him be, having contempt for Tagg’s ‘craft’ and irked him at every turn. Ruining the solitude Tagg sought.
- 4 months later, 1822: They have not talked for the last months, leaving only notes.
- 1824: The fog sounder in place;calls his living a ‘lonely hell’;‘at least Muir had to speak to me’ while repairing, actually welcomed even Muir’s voice;‘desolation; ’I will leave this place at my first opportunity.’
- Later 1824: Heard a woman singing to ‘me, not to Muir…his ears not meant for it.’; Muir wearing on Tagg again;sounder broken again.
- Later 1824: Saw her, almost thought it a ghost;beautiful in a primitive way, she touched him and filled him with ecstacy but disappeared; Talks with her, despises Muir as well;She wants to be saved from loneliness and save Tagg from his;requires fulfillment of urges Tagg repressed for 2 years, “I shall do it tonight”.
- Later 1824: authorities satisfied; no one will man the rock with me though;must return to my beloved; “Sedna showed me the monster, I am shaken to my soul. I can write no more of this”
- Later 1824: Sedna makes another demand, he must obey; “I shall put out the light and the beast shall feed”;does not understand their connection.
- 1825: Again was her accomplice; doused the light for “13 souls” in a storm;worries authorities will ask questions.
- Later 1825: “The flesh is not so repulsive as I feared”. (He is being intimate with Sedna. Something about her must be less than human)
- 1826: 16 sacrificed, beast brought Tagg their silver…“What good does it do me?”
- 1827: 28 drowned, one made it to rock. He watched Sedna drag him back into water; Tagg haunted by the man’s eyes.
- Later 1827: Sedna pregnant
- 1828: Painful birth, “I feared for my love and my child”. Boy is human and Sedna looked at him with rage. Tagg fled with him, hailing a fisherman who took him to port. Trying to protect child from Sedna and damnation.
- Later 1828: Winston safe with widow Brooks; Averil sympathetic and teaching Tagg magic “I begin my treachery”. Here he scribes the spell he will use to fight Sedna. The Baneful Dust of Hermes: You must have the powder with the spell; only affects creatures of nonearthly origins. So, this would include many beasts of the Mythos, though not those such as Deep Ones.
- Later 1828: “I have failed, she read my eyes and knew what I was about.” Neither ritual nor the powder affected her;I am doomed and she lives, guiding another storm now. She is so powerful; “I deserve my fate, may God protect my son”.
So, he would turn the light off so ships would wreck. He mated with this Sedna thing and had Winston. They collected what treasures there were. The beast ate well, and perhaps even Sedna and Tagg.
Theo “Sedna is the mermaid.”
Will “Right, the Indian in the painting. She wanted the kid to be a monster. The dust in the jar is the powder”.
Theo “Yes, the dust with the metal shards”.
Myself “So why was it a weapon but then did not effect her?”
By reading the spell, we seem to have 8 doses in the jar.
We had little choice, as late as it was getting, but to spend the night here. Dewey, we could see, still maintained his position though we had no obvious way of getting to him. Moira admitted to dreaming of the monster, and it only comes up when someone tries to leave. If you stay here you are safe.
We spent a miserable night in the cold and rain worrying about getting back to the boat, with John suggested using empty barrels as flotations, as it seemed our only option but for getting past the monster. And to that, our only choice would be to be to lure the monster up to attack, and battle it to the death. But how to fight it? We did the dust and the whale oil.
Myself “We can light the barrels and hurl the whale oil on him”.
Will “We have the flares too. We can dowse him with the oil then light it with the rocket-flares.”
Atwater “That’s the key to this. The whale oil…burning it.”
Will “We could saturate the water with oil, but then someone may have to swim out there to bust them all open in the right place. How do get someone out there without getting eaten?”
Not to mention how to get the creature to rise in that exact spot, without someone there as bait…someone who would surely die. Eventually we all got some troubled sleep.
In the morning we found Moira gone, and a rope tied to the railing outside and hanging below. She had left us in the night. Downstairs and outside we went and found our boat still waiting for us, the crazy man yelling at us, waving and smiling. Next Will suggestet checking the barrels for the silver in case Moira stole them, but they were indeed still there. Then at Jack’s suggestion we checked the downward hole on the other side of the rock, and I noticed some obvious evidence of recent disruption. Down we climbed to find ourselves in a cavern, a winding passage down to the sea as well as a single side passage which we followed with lit torches. We soon came to a room. In the flickering light, shamanic carvings and paintings of Mother Hydra were visible on the walls in all her blasphemous glory. Additionally another small passage led to the waters edge. As we studied the artwork, if one could call it that, a slight noise came from a dark lower chamber which we had not noticed at first. From it walked Moira hand in hand with a rather strikingly beautiful Indian woman. John quickly readied his shotgun and whispered “Should I start shooting the heathens?”
I didn’t answer at the moment, and Moira broke the initial silence with “Gentlemen, meet my great grandmother. I’ve spent the night talking with my ancestor and have many things to tell you. My grandmother is immortal.”
Theo “What makes her so?”
“She is a priestess of Mother Hydra.”
Poor Jack couldn’t help himself: “Fantastic, fan-freaking-tastic.”
“She’s been trapped here for many years by the creature in the water. It’s purpose is so. Unfortunately, it keeps anyone else who comes trapped here as well. She has been trapped since the death of my grandfather.”
Theo “What triggered the creature to show up here?”
“An internal struggle amongst the Deep Ones. My grandmother feels that deep one hybrids are a sin to Mother Hydra, and she destroys them wherever she sees them. The Deep Ones and hybrids who do not see it that way called it here with a spell. Hybrids are humans with a taint, who will become Deep Ones.” Moira said that they can not help us destroy it.
Will whispered to me “What if she was out there and it killed her? Maybe it could leave?”
None of this changed the fact that the Indian woman worshipped a forbidden entity, though we had no idea of her powers and could be sure that the dust would hurt her, nor did we want to waste it rather than have it all for the Cthulhu Spawn. Moira seemed quite taken with her grandmother, and it concerned us that she was only a step from being a cultist herself, if she was not already one.
While speaking we gatherd around the 2, and Atwater with great skill and grace drew out a morphine syringe and made to inject the grandmother. His arm, however, passed right through what was an illusion!
Moira “What were you to do to my grandma?”
Atwater “This” whereupon he instead injected Moira with an equally impressive surprise attack, and down she went.
Theo “Now where is the ‘mermaid’?”
Jack “Probably in the dark chamber she came out of?”
Myself “We need to get her.”
Just then, a Deep One some 13’ tall stepped out of the shadows of the chamber below. Sedna’s true form!
The question remained why, after wanting to kill any hybrid, did the Deep One seem fine with Moira. Did the years here change her opinion? Did the blood relation spark some monsterous version of familial feelings? We shall never know. Will turned to me quickly “Should we try to lure it to the sea there? A battle with the creature could give us a chance to escape.”
This I felt was an idea, and I knew that Moira was the key. I had barely noticed Cassandra’s chanting, until she yelled “YogSothoth!” and a force of raw power struck Sedna. Atwater turned to us and said “Get Moira in the water, and she may go after her.”
Jack replied “You wanna try that, go for it!”
I said “We’ll hold it off, get Moira in the water!”
Hearing this, Theo picked Moira’s limp body up and over his shoulder just as Will tore the neclace from her neck, and Cassandra yelled “Fight you fools!” as she backed up toward the passage as well and fired another “Yog Sothoth!”, pushing Sedna back again.
Will “Someone needs to ready the whale oil and flares once we lure it up!” Father John took the initiative and rushed away from scene for the lighthouse.
Cassandra was weakening and it was time for us to jump into action. I leveled my shotgun on the foul icthyous being, my shot hitting it’s right side-10, Jack’s first round clicked harmlessly…a dud. Will’s first barrel missed as well, but Atwater fired 2 quick shots and struck it dead on with two shots of his .45 service revoler-14/11. Theolonius was now moving down the passage, with Cassandra and Will, who had naturally moved next to her, blocking the way.
Here, Sedna ignored our shooting men and made for the tunnel as we had hoped but ran into the two lovers. Will took a bite to his arm-12, and Cassandra was viciously rended by the creatures claws. It was obvious she was almost at all she could take, but valiantly through off another spell of the same type, after which she slumped to the ground unconcious. Knowing Will would want to save Cassandra above all else, I told someone to take her attention fast. Atwater sprung into action, and intercepted her move toward Theo as Will dragged Cassandra away.
With an “Aw God” Fast Jack slipped past the two and ran for Theolonius in case the creature made it past Atwater who let loose with a shotgun blast, the slugs hittting the creature dead in the center of the abdomen-34crit. I let go with my second barrel but barely grazed the creature-5 as Jack turned and fired a barrel of his own-12. Parts of the disgusting thing were literally hanging off of and strewn about it’s body, yet still it came at Atwater though it was visibly struggling to do so. It struck him-11 with a claw then raced past him as Theo reached the water. Theo dumped Moira into the sea, and Sedna gave him a good swipe with a claw-10 as she raced past the monk and dove into the sea after her grandaughter. Will called for Atwater to help Cassandra, which the doctor did with all of his usual skill and aptitude. Meanwhile, the rest of us raced back up the hole to the surface, meeting Theolonius who had climbed the outside of the island from the tunnel exit to the top.
From the top, we saw the great creature rise up near Sedna and move for her with purpose. A shriek from the Deep One, and what was a short battle ended in Sedna’s demise. It then reached for Moira and surely took her life with one crashing strike. I ran for the lighthouse as the first of 2 flares from Father John streaked high over my head. I had, overrnight, devised a way to attach the powder to 8 of the rocketflares in such a way that the powder would be dispersed easily over the huge body of the creature. Each hit home, and when I arrived we each fired 2 more before Jack caught up, all hitting their target as well. Jack ran straight past us as fast as he could to get all the oil kegs to the edge of the lighthouse walkway around the buildings lightsource.
The powder from each shot, from the very first, was still burning the terrible skin of the Spawn like acid. We fired our last 2 rockets on, both hitting, and ran for the roof and Jack.
When it reached the base of the rock next to the lighthouse, it still burned though half in the water, and we could see Wang run into the building below just it time. This powder is something we must learn to create for ourselves. As it began climbing, we dropped the first 2 kegs of whale oil. Even if we did not hit the creature directly will all of them, it would still be necessary for it to climb through the conflagaration of oil, thus getting the oil upon its skin in any case. We were now past the point of no return, and we each fired a flare to light the oil now slicking the creature and the cliffside below. Father John’s whisked uselessly away, almost flying behind us. My own and Jack’s both hit our marks though and Theo dropped another keg, this one crashing open directly upon the Spawn’s shoulder. It reacted terribly over the fire, for it must have had a natural aversion to the element. We could still see the acid smoking as the beast and much of the grounds around it ignited the likes of which we hadn’t seen since Cthugha made his attempt to burst forth from the heavens above Central Park.
Still, the thing was not finished, and tentacles reached up as if with minds of their own striking us all with the greatest of ease. The shot on me almost dropped me and I staggered but regained my senses quickly, only the adrenalaine from the situation kept me up I am sure. Theolonius took a supremely vicious shot and after crashing through the glass and into the interior went down in a heap, and I tell you we were all sure he was a dead man. Jack yelled in both horror and anger “WAAANNG”! and was struck the slightest of us all, his quick moves saved his life. Father John was hit badly as well, but somehow remained standing.
The inferno raged on and around it however, while it wailed unnaturally in an agonizing fury. Now, we were essentially trying to dodge it’s attacks in hopes it would soon burn to death. I grabbed the final flare though, and looking back over the edge, let it loose successfully, hitting the root of one of its tentacles. Still it clung to the island and the building. As it rose higher, John singlehandedly appeared on the edge and yelled an obsenity for the first time I had ever heard while dropping another keg onto it “For God, the church and the diocese of New York!”. It burst upon its back and in its rage it lashed out what would be one final time and with all its might on our Jesuit priest. Slamming and grabbing and crushing, before tossing his lifeless and practically formless broken body into the rocky waters below. Jack grabbed an end of the last barrel and toppled it over the edge directly onto its great and vile head. In pointless angerr I fired 2 quick shots from my revolver, I saw Atwater do the same. Whether they truly did the job we do not know, but it was here that the creature became silent in a sudden quietude, the noise from it having been so loud that for several seconds we could not even hear the sound of the ocean over the sudden quiet…then it released and dropped into the water back first with a huge spashing crash. All was over. We might have regretted Moira’s death had it not been for John’s.
We screamed for Atwater to get up to us, for Theolonius was still down. When Atwater checked him, he was astounded and called it a miracle that Theo still clung to life. We soon flagged our boat closer, for the waters were as calm as one could ask now, and went back to Innsmouth. That was yesterday.
I was at the moment then and still am utterly devastated over John’s death. It reeled my psyche worse than the existence of such a monster itself. Atwater, who saw it from below us, can not even verbalize what it was like to see the sight from his vantage point of John being destroyed in mere seconds. Theolonius spent the entire day today resting and recovering from the damage inflicted upon him, beside reading his dark tomes for a few hours. He is bedridden. I think he may be most affected of all over John’s death though his inner will hides it well. He of course did not witness it, we told him only this afternoon. He and John spent many hours together wrapping their intellects around the likes of the Necronomicon. Jack seems the most resilient of us all, doing his best to see light in the situation and reminding us that in another few moments we could have all perished. I write this now in Arkam, the night after. I would wish never to mention it again, but to recall the heroism of a Jesuit priest whose final strike drew the all out assault of the beast, likely saving all of our lives.
We all need a slight respite. Other than reading and research, we may rest and recuperate our strength physically, mentally, and emotinally herefor a time.