Schmidt, McDaid and Macleod, having agreed to help Paten MacGuffin in his search for vengeance, start to cross the Loch toward the ruins of Castle MacLaraig.
Sinead Maguire, who has stayed back at the guesthouse keeping an eye on the still mourning Elaine, assembles and takes stock of her ‘bag’o’bombs’, keeping a close eye out for interference from the MacAllens. (Uncannily, rolling a straight 100 fumble on her ‘spot hidden’…oops).
Flash back to the chaps on the Lough …as McLeod’s eagle eyesight at night, spots a group of torches, heading north along the western bank, toward the castle. Reckoning they can make it there first, and choosing a route that avoids McLeod’s estimation as to the epicentre of the pentagram, the party rapidly beach the boat, and make their way through the marshland to the ruined castle.
As the torchlit procession makes its way toward the ruins. McLeod spots the fact that the eight MacAllens fiends, have a captured and bound Elaine and Sinead with them. (Rolling a fumble for a spot hidden rarely bodes well for the roller…and Sinead discovers that she has been nabbed by the MacAllens…along with Elaine, clearly with the help of Erma’s husband at the guesthouse).
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| The true horror..uhhh maybe |
A quick search of the castle reveals a trapdoor, but there is no time to investigate that just yet, as there is an ambush and a daring rescue to spring! Having MacGuffin with his Lewis gun (well stocked with ammunition) pays dividends as his vengeance eventually plays out, bullets flying in the night at the head of the MacAllen column as it rounds the bend into the ruins, the captives safely in cover, and the ends of the column being shot to pieces. Schmidt shouts ‘get down’ in German, knowing that Elaine at least will understand it, though gaining a strange look from MacGuffin, whose memories still lie in the mud of the western front trenches.
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| plotting a route that avoids that hatched bit in the middle... |
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| The ambush, potato chip flank...as the party shoots up the MacAllen column... |
A turn of surprise actions, and accurate close range fire from the party makes short work of the inbred and hulking MacAllens, and the slaughter is complete… Releasing the ladies, the party leaves Elaine and MacGuffuin on watch (Macguffin takes great pleasure in disposing of the bodies), the rest descending below to check out the dungeon level of the castle, before any more of the MacAllens turn up.
McDain and McLeod take the lead, knowing that it is ‘SAN roll’ time… The disgusting remnants of horrible rituals are found in two of the chambers; in one, leathery paralysed corpses posed in horrific death throes, whilst in another, the charred bones of the MacAllen’s nefarious activities (or the activites of something else…). In some cases evidence of spontaneous combustion seems obvious. Despite the potential for it all to become too much for the investigators, they have seen worse on the western front, and keep their stiff upper lip intact (SAN rolls passed).
The charnel house room is last in the tour however, decorated with ancient and recent blood stains and the stench of vile depredations. In the corner of the room sits a strange curved mirror, an ancient gallic text carved crudely onto its dark oak frame. Despite her best efforts, Sinead can not translate it (which is probably a good thing). McLeod has a strange feeling examining the thing. The party endeavours to destroy the mirror, drawing straws to see who gets to carry out the deed.
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| NOT the mirror in the bathroom... |
Just as McDaid and Sinead are about to use shotguns to destroy it...something stirs…dust on the floor swirls, and small motes of burning ember seem to float up in a vortex, an image, then a solid form, of the vile dreaded head…of the Lloigor forming from the bloated charged air in the vile dungeon… ROLL YOUR SAN!
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| ...just the tip, of the Lloigor |
Both pass, running like hell (but lose a point anyway), slowed by that burning sensation in their chests, a heat, a flame, an agonising pain as their burning lungs strive to find oxygen as the thing makes them pay for their transgression.
Luckily they make it out in time, despite some lung damage to both, and race to the surface, just in time for MacGuffin to warn them, that torches, many torches, can be seen moving from the MacAllen farms…toward the castle.
The next day is Samhain…Halloween…a festival bloodily celebrated through the MacAllen’s ghastly rituals. Perhaps the dreaded inbred sect of evil, wishes to start its celebrations, a little bit early…with the investigators as the prize.
















