Oh boy, time for another campaign module review in my ongoing CoC piecemeal campaign, Rise of the Old Ones! Today's selection, and long overdue at that, is "The Spawn" from The Great Old Ones.
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Well, it happened. Keeping for two years, six months, and a few hours in change give or take, and it finally happened to me. I got sick and the worst of it happened while I was Keeping a game. Oh, it's not like it hasn't ever happened before, at least not in the sense of some very close calls. I once had to run the final session of a Nyarlathotep campaign while dealing with the aftereffects of losing my voice from a cold, which ended up making my normally soprano-ranged voice much scratchier and huskier than normal... not at all a bad vocal look for my sleazy, captivating, and darkly sensually attractive (even the guys want him!) interpretation of the Black Pharaoh himself. In fact, I daresay it made the scenario's end better, if not for the fact I basically sucked down more than my fair share of bottled teas and juices to stay hydrated. On that note, caffeine is bad for your voice, don't do that thing before you GM anything - just sayin'. To be fair, I should have known - there was a nasty virus going around, some rhinovirus strain or another that had spontaneously mutated, and that nobody had any antibodies to. Being on a college campus almost 24/7, and my siblings also being so to a point, someone in my family of course caught it. Then I caught it. Then my labmates in my Nucleic Acids lab all caught it, including my poor professor who also teaches my OTHER CMB lab, which all then got it, too. And yet, none of my CoC group caught the little fucker, despite openly sharing and drinking from my root beer while the virus was starting to develop. I thought it only a little bit of a dry, sore throat at the time, caused by speaking for long periods. That does happen when one narrates, talks, screams, yells, jabbers, etc. across a table at people for hours on end, which is why having fluids on hand to hydrate thyself is always a good idea. I thought it was nothing and proceeded to ignore it. Oh good Lord, I couldn't have been more wrong. I was sick the entirety of Labor Day Weekend, not that long after my birthday. My throat was raw and felt like acid burns, my nose and sinuses were a runny, aching, stuffy mess, and I generally felt like shit for three days. The fourth day, I thought it was over. I thought I'd be okay and that the worst of it was leaving - my throat was better, my sinuses were clearing a little, the post-nasal drip had dried up. It had to be over, right? Ahahahaha, no. Nope. Not even fucking close. Instead, the little bastard decided my lungs would make a lovely place to raise a family of approximately billions of little virion particles, and it set up shop in my bronchioles and proceeded to start drowning me in my own fucking mucus. I literally couldn't breathe walking from my car to class and was tied to a fucking inhaler the entire rest of the week. I couldn't even walk up the damn stairs without hacking and wheezing, and of course, my nose was stuffed up to compound my inability to get any fucking oxygen. This lasted for another four fucking days, and only just this past week was I able to feel better. I was tied to cold medicine and a nasal spray in order to even function and get through my classes, on the very worst week of the semester for my Nucleic Acids lab (I was going in every single day, no fucking joke, outside of class to prep things and streak things and run gels and ARGH FUCK WHY IS THIS MY MAJOR AGAIN). It was hell, absolute hell, and only caffeine and sheer willpower got me through it. Well, and this lovely little chemical compound, of course: That little buddy right there is a wondrous compound by the name of (4bS,8aR,9S)-3-Methoxy-11-methyl-6,7,8,8a,9,10-hexahydro-5H-9,4b-(epiminoethano)phenanthrene, but its friends call it Dextromethorphan or "Dexy" for short. And now you all just realized where that band that did "Come On Eileen", Dexy's Midnight Runners, got their name from. You're welcome. Dexy here is your friendly neighborhood cough suppressant, it's found in most cough medicines you get over the counter and it's also found in many Dayquil/Nyquil type products. I'd wager to bet this guy was your friend at some point in time while you were ill, but you never even bothered to learn its name, you selfish motherfucker. Of course, Dexy isn't all seriousness and sickness. No, it has a... wild side. A party side, you might say. That is, it's used as a recreational drug by some folks. There's a popular way of consuming this drug that involves cough syrup and Sprite or vodka, known to some as "Jungle Juice", "Sizzurp", or "Purple Drank". Take too much of it, and you'll start to wonder where the fuck you are. You see, Dexy here is a semi-powerful disassociative drug, and acts as a bit of an analgesic - that means it makes you high as balls, unable to focus, and numb in the extremities. Those who do this on purpose call the phenomenon "Robo-tripping", supposedly because it makes you feel like a robot - cut off from the world, experiencing everything slower, and reacting without much emotion; in other words, you dissociate and things don't feel real anymore. You can actually experience anything from stimulant-like effects to mild hallucinations, depending how much you take, as well as nausea, vomiting, confusion, nervousness, and drowsiness or dizziness. These effects usually occur over the course of several hours with many "peaks" or "plateaus". In other words, that means you'll not just experience this bullshit once, but you might experience it several times over the course of one night. You could be fine one moment, and then the next you are out of it and unfocused. Some people would call this "awesome". I however call this a nuisance and vaguely frightening, because I am unabashedly straight edge and every time I've had experience with any sort of altered state it has never been pleasant for me, at all, ever. So, let me tell you about how I, doped up on way too much Dexy, Robo-tripped my way through a CoC session last week and why I don't have any material for reviewing "The Spawn" as a result. Now, I gave my players fair warning - I could feel that I wasn't right in the head, and that both my sickness and the medicine were doing this to me. I knew I was tripping, because I knew I took way too many cold meds (the Dayquil type ones) and hadn't let them wear off between before I took another dose of two pills. Granted, I wasn't coughing and hacking, and I wasn't knocked out moaning in suffering from how bad I felt, but I still wasn't there. I'm honestly surprised I got the Investigators on the goddamned train, off to Coppertown in New Mexico, and off the train. I didn't even characterize the town. I half-assed the map and only changed it from one long street when my brother said something to the effect of, "Wow, nice town, GM". The map wasn't the greatest either, but to my addled mind it looked just fine. Until someone asked where in the fuck the police station was, and I turned to look. The only response I had to forgetting to add it was, "Oh." Nothing else, just "Oh." And then I sloppily wrote "P. Station" on the poorly made square, added a star, and called it a day on the map. I'm surprised nobody commented on the Pee Station, or called it a Playstation. Maybe they realized I was just that out of it. To be honest, I really don't remember what the fuck everyone did in Coppertown, except for about two things. I remember them meeting Jose Verde, my Chicano take on Jose Green in the scenario proper, and I remember them talking to Dr. Tyler Freeborn briefly. They also visited some of the miner's outposts in a very, VERY roundabout way, no doubt not helped by my not being able to remember where in the fuck they could drive, where the railroad tracks for the town were, and why they couldn't take their beat-up struggle buggy of a van up the mountains... or just walk. It seriously took me five minutes to give a decent, coherant explanation as to why they, no, could not walk several miles up mountains in thick Ponderosa pine wilderness they had no familiarity with to get to the mines. And all this while feeling like that kid from David After Dentist. Sadly, it was indeed real life, and I had to continue. The players chose to follow up on Jose's lead and go explore the graves of the freshly interred Broad Vein miners, killed in a supposed collapse. They all dug up all the graves and saw the weird circular burn marks on the bodies, and of course were nearly caught doing it. Thankfully, I bungled the absolute fuck out of the rolls for the guards near the graveyard, and nobody was caught. I was even nicer than normal to my one player who just, for the life of him, could not Stealth to save his skin. I probably should have let him suffer, but eh, I could barely tell whether or not the dice were candies at this point (I have very brightly colored, pretty dice, and the ones I was currently using were bright yellow like lemon drops). Not to mention that I was laughing at like every dumb joke way too hard for way too fucking long because OMFG that joke about the holes being for necrophiles was just too fucking funny you guys comedy platinum right here hashtag CoC: RotOO squad 2016. The game continued like this for a good. Five. Hours. I have no idea how I even made it through and no idea how it turned out because I have literally almost no memory of that whole night (voluntarily blocking the horror from my conscious mind?), but I know it was basically a filler/establishment session. There was nothing I could do to make it not be that way, because I couldn't even tell whether or not my hand was real, let alone what the fuck a Copper Lady was supposed to be. You might as well have asked me where I was, and I would have answered, "I don't fucking know, Lost Carcosa, because I keep hacking up pieces of it from my lungs every five seconds?" And I would have, in all seriousness, believed that I was standing in Carcosa, and you need to take your mask off right now, because your face looks not real at all, and neither does my face, and oh my fuck I am so sick and I don't understand why this is happening to me dear god help me. I have no idea why my friends let me continue Keeping that night. They really fucking shouldn't have, because immediately, after driving my friend home (which, OMFG, how?), proceeded to crash on my bed and sleep like a dead woman for the next three days. Moral of the story, kids? Dexy and Keeping do not mix. Just... just cancel the session if you're that sick. Trust me, everyone will understand. Don't powerhouse through it. Just don't do it. Go to fucking bed, set down the dice, and call it a day. It will not end well otherwise. Ongoing Campaign Module Review #2 time! Today's selection is from CoC 5e's core rulebook again, this one entitled "The Madman". Again, I am not sure if it was reprinted, but I am assuming so since almost all the others in 5e were reprinted for 6e.
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Welcome to Musings 2.0, my personal blog here on WordFlow! Here, you can find out what I'm doing now and where I'm going next, as well as get my thoughts on the Cthulhu Mythos, assorted sundry writing topics, and various scientific topics. Archives
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