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1053691 No. 1053691 ID: 681cb5

[Horror, Non-lewd quest]

“Even if they are in gods eyes innocent, we have no choice in the matter. In the father’s name, as we condemn them to the pyre, we can only pray the flames will purge their sinful bodies of His malevolent corruption! If we let even one of them live… then He will return for His blood… He always return for His blood…” – Father Isaac Thorn
33 posts omitted. Last 50 shown. Expand all images
No. 1053901 ID: 953c9f

God, you two are absolutely adorable together.
So, what’s your story? What do you both do? How did you meet? When did you tie the Knott?
Once you’ve dealt with the painting, it’ll be good to lift your spirits, and fond memories and handholding are both good for that.
No. 1053918 ID: 2a82d3

I wouldn't use the painting as extra kindling just yet. For all you know right now, you might anger the spirit, not exorcize it.

>“And to think that I’m related to that grumpy old man.”
Did he know him well? Obviously not, but it does beg the question about how well he knew his family. If he really is ignorant and innocent of all this, that was more than likely deliberate. A split from the family, perhaps? Don't be too hard on him, but you have a right to be informed about any (hopefully not literal) skeletons in the basement he has.

There's also the question of how the line of inheritance ended up at him. As in, what the heck happened to the people ahead of him.
No. 1053949 ID: 681cb5
File 167390414497.png - (106.08KB , 700x550 , 10.png )

>So, what’s your story? What do you both do?
You’re Belle Knott, a receptionist for… well, it used to be a university in another city (as well as a newly started company called Pet.com for a year), but next week you’ll be working for the University of Arkham. To be more precise, their facilities right here in the little town of Crowmoor. As for your adorable little hubby he’s Chris Knott, formerly Chris Craven, and he’s trying to become a professor in Psychology. Apparently, they have quite the research department about mental diseases here in Crowmoor… what with them having an asylum and all.
>How did you meet?
Oh well, you know… you were working at the same university and… well… he came up to you and asked if you wanted to share a coffee…
>When did you tie the Knott?
Didn’t you already say that? Six months ago!

Belle: “Ugh, don’t worry about it dear… it’s just… that horrid painting up there.”
Chris: “Oh? …you want me to cover it?”
Belle: “…I want to rip it off the wall and burn it into cinders in purifying fire.”
Chris: “Now now, dear, no need to go that far.” He looks up at the painting as seems to contemplate something before continuing, “Though it seems like it’s been bolted to the wall itself. It won’t be easy to remove it. So let’s just cover it up for now, Belle.”
Belle: “Hmm… and then we can burn it later?”
Chris: “I don’t know… I have to admit it’s not a very flattering painting… but it’s still part of my family history apparently. Let’s see… look, it was made way back in 1876 by an Emerik K, and is depicting someone called… err… I’m not sure how you pronounce this but… Bovel Krakholme, but with two dots over the first O and a ring over the A?”
Belle: “You mean Kråkholme? Wasn’t that one of the former owners of this place?”
Chris: “That’s right! Edward and Julia Kråkholm! So the grumpy old man in the painting is indeed someone I’m related to.”
Belle: “Still say we burn it…”

>This book have the same symbol as the entrance rug. Do you want to check what kind of cult old grumpy was involved with?
You pick up the book next to you and start to flip through it, expecting to find some occult blood rituals or horrifying black speech, but instead all you find is a bunch of old photos of people you don’t recognize. Well, you say photos, but most of the first pages have drawings of people instead.

Chris: “Find anything interesting?” Chris asks as he leans over your shoulder to get a better look.
Belle: “Just some old photos… that’s all.”
Chris: “Hmm… looks like that book span generations. Look, the first entry is way back in the 1600!”
Belle: “And if I’m reading this index correctly, this book has a ton of the families who’s lived in Crowmoor registered.”
Chris: “I guess if we ever need to find someone that used to live here, we know where to look, hun.”
Belle: “So did you know him? I mean, this Bövel or what he was called?”
Chris: “Oh no, I haven’t the faintest idea who he is. You know about my grandfather on my father’s side, right?”
Belle: “The one that…” you’re about to say committed suicide, but stop yourself, “…that left us long before you were even born?”
Chris: “That’s right. And my grandmother never wanted to talk about where he came from either so… well, most of us never really knew where that branch of the family went to… but apparently it went here, to Crownmoor and these… Kråkholme was it?”
Belle: “…and yet you’re the one who is inheriting this place? Wasn’t there anyone else?”
Chris: “Apparently not. As far as I know, the last people who lived here, Edward and his family, they… well, we’ve already talked about that, haven’t we?”

It’s not a pretty story, and one that lacks details, but apparently this Edward fellow went mad and… well, his wife and daughters didn’t make it… and Edward followed a few months later when he committed suicide in the asylum here in Crowmoor.

Belle: “And yet here we are, in the very same house that horrid tale played out.”
Chris: “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to protect you if anything happens.”
Belle: “Oh? Doesn’t it usually end up with me protecting you, little bun?”
Chris: “You’re probably right, love.”

Your hubby stretches out his arms and yawns

Chris: “I’m completely beat after everything that happened today. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a quick, cold shower before heading to bed… maybe I can meet you there for some snuggles, hmm?”
Belle: “Of course…”

He grabs your hand and squeezes it, before giving you a loving kiss on your cheek. If you want to ask your hubby anything else before going to bed, now is the time.
No. 1053954 ID: 2a82d3

What are his thoughts surrounding kids? Given Edward, he probably have to swear on the Bible not to go crazy if he wants them.

Has you both consummated your marriage yet? (That one's not meant to be expicit, I swear.) Many religious and spiritual institutions (and hopefully spirits) allow annulment of marriages, if there hasn't been sharing of the "blood", so to speak. I doubt that's what either of you want, though.

As creepy as it is, some straight answers under the portrait of the Baron's gaze could be important, one way or another.
No. 1053964 ID: 85c6ae

>[Horror, Non-lewd quest]
That's extremely lewd! Why would you lie to us like that, Kaktus?!

Since your husband is a rabbit, if you guys ever plan on having any kids, then you'd better prepare to have a lot of kids! Everyone knows rabbits are good at multiplying!

>If you want to ask your hubby anything else before going to bed, now is the time.
"Wanna fuck?"
No. 1053975 ID: dee951


This place is far too creepy for that. That'd only be reasonable AFTER the place is deep cleaned and it's in the daylight and you've replaced at least some of the furnishings to be more... comfortable.

That said, cuddling and hugging and petting would be quite nice!
No. 1054015 ID: c28082


>“And to think that I’m related to that grumpy old man.”

Well, that certainly explains how you came to be in possession of this place.

Did his family always have a, uh ... eclectic taste in interior decor?


Let's settle for locking it in a crate in the cellar where we'll never have to see it again, and maybe putting up a nice macrame wall-hanging instead.
No. 1054016 ID: 36784c

We should probably put out the fire in the fireplace before we join our husband in bed. Leaving a fire unattended is a good way to burn down the house you just moved into.

>Let's settle for locking it in a crate in the cellar where we'll never have to see it again
We were told that the painting is bolted to the wall, so we can’t do that.
No. 1054232 ID: 681cb5
File 167425507029.png - (66.70KB , 700x550 , 11.png )

>Have you both consummated your marriage yet?
…you’re not a pair of puritans from the 1600s, so yes?
>What are his thoughts surrounding kids?
The two of you have discussed it at length… and you were considering it right before Chris got that letter. As for now… well, you’ll need to settle in first… find your place and all that… then you can start consider it again.
>Since your husband is a rabbit, if you guys ever plan on having any kids, then you'd better prepare to have a lot of kids! Everyone knows rabbits are good at multiplying!
…ugh, don’t bring that up…
>"Wanna fuck?"
Both of you have been on the road for hours, before being forced to walk through rain and mud to get to a really creepy house… it shouldn’t come as a surprise that neither of you are in the mood!?

>Did his family always have a, uh ... eclectic taste in interior decor?
Chris: “As I said, love, I don’t really know this branch of the family… though you’ve seen how my mother live, haven’t you?”
Belle: “Comfy, homely and warm… a place that always smells of honey and newly baked cookies… a far cry from this mansion.”
Chris: “Of course, mother isn’t related to the folk that used to live here in the first place… they are from my father side, after all.”
Belle: You look up at the painting again, which is still glaring at you with pure hatred, “…if you don’t want to burn that thing, then let’s settle for locking it in a crate somewhere… maybe the cellar or the attic… just somewhere where I’ll never have to see it again. Then we can put up one of your mothers homemade macramé wall-hangings instead.”
Chris: “That would be lovely… but we’ll need to talk to someone and see if we can take that thing down without damaging the wall first. Let’s just cover it up for now and focus on getting settled, alright dear?”
Belle: “…that does sound like a plan, hubby… now, you never told me what happened to the car?”
Chris: “Oh… well…” he sheepishly rubs the back of his head before continuing, “The good news is that we got stuck right outside this really charming little pub, a very rustic place called O’mally’s, and they let me borrow a phone.”
Belle: You look him in the eyes and raises a single eyebrow, “…and the bad news?”
Chris: “Well… heh… see, they don’t have a proper garage here in Crowmoor so… they had to tow it all the way back to Arkham. They said it would take at least a week before they got it fixed…”
Belle: “… … …we’re stuck here a whole week?”
Chris: “Um… not stuck, exactly, but… we’re lucky that we don’t need to leave anytime soon, hun?”
Belle: “Ugh… fine… fine… that’s fine. Let’s just… go to bed so this horrid day can finally end.”
Chris: “Way ahead of you, dear! Tomorrow will be a bright, sunny day, you’ll see!”
Belle: “…of course it will be, hubby… at least when you’re there…”
Chris: “…I love you, Belle…”
Belle: “…and I love you, Chris…”
No. 1054233 ID: 681cb5
File 167425507754.png - (63.43KB , 700x550 , 12.png )

As your husband leaves for his shower, you stay put a while longer and look into the fire, letting your mind wander as you start to come to terms of what has happened the last few days. This is your home now… you’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future... let’s just hope it’s more inviting in the sunlight.

As you’re about to head up, you give the horrid painting a rude gesture, though it only answer with the same hateful glare as always, before putting out the fire in the hearth. You can’t have this place burn down before you’ve even settled in, can you? Sneaking up the stairs, you find that your husband has already claimed the massive king sized bed in the master bedroom, and as his queen you quietly slide in behind him and embraces his tiny body. He purrs in your grip as you hug him, squiring a bit to make it easier for you to get even close before letting himself be completely engulfed by your cuddling.

Belle: “Goodnight, love…” you whisper into his ear, making it twitch.
Chris: “Goodnight, dear…” he whispers back, making you smile…

It doesn’t take long for sleep to come and claim you…
No. 1054234 ID: 681cb5
File 167425508607.png - (85.96KB , 700x550 , 13.png )

Priest: “How do you plead? Guilty or innocent?” the booming voice of the man in front of you bellows.

Looking around in a panicky confusion, you find yourself surrounded by a mob wielding pitchforks and lit torches, all the while several large bonfires burn around them. The world behind them seems to be on fire, leaving everything beyond them as nothing more than strange shapes and shadows, though they aren’t much better as you can barely make out what they look like. Even the priest standing right in front of you is just a blur, a mix match of black, white and green blending together against the night sky. Trying to move, you realize that you’re tied to a large stock placed on top of a pile of wood. You’re tied to a pyre…

A scream of a young girl confirms your fear, that the bonfires that surround you not only have wooden kindling, but a living one as well. The hateful mob move closer to you, their torches ready to be cast upon your pyre, and there is nothing you can do to escape them, no matter how hard you struggle against your bonds.

Priest: “I shall only ask once more. How do you plead, witch. Guilty or innocent? If you refuse to answer…” the shape of the priest turns to look over his shoulder, and you can see another shadow lifting up a red hot branding iron and smiling, “So what say you, spawn of evil?”
No. 1054254 ID: 2a82d3

I 'no not half 'f what ye speak of, 'ut I swear I be innocent. I be from out o' town. Wheel o' me 'agon broke, an' me 'usband ran 'head fo' some 'elp. Anot'ter 'agon 'topped by an' I 'itched onto it na qu'tion'n it. I 'ust 'anted to git ta town to git me 'usband or git some folks to find him. Hand to God, that be the 'ole truth. I be innocent.

I 'no not what be going on 'ere but if ye ar' men of faith, please... don't 'arm good people over it.
No. 1054258 ID: 15c72a

Be as honest as possible. You don't know where you are or how you got here, you think the witch must have switched places with you!
No. 1054284 ID: e5709d

"...She left me."
>What are you blithering, wen-
"YOU LEFT ME! I loved/ you, and you left me! Why?! Weren't you 'my guiding spirit, now and forever'? Didn't we swear to go to the darkest depths of Hell as one?! Was it all nothing more than a playful FARCE?!"
>So you confess? You willingly hosted a spawn of Satan?!
"...I am guilty. Do it. JUST DO IT! GET IT OVER WITH!"
>In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I, Pastor Pasterius, do hereby sentence you to-
"K̷̮͠I̸̗͒L̸͍̭̀̈́L̷̨͘ ̸͚̥̀͠M̵̪̈́̈́E̸͉͠ ̶̝̗͂N̸͓̬͂̚Ȏ̴͚̈́W̶̠̬͑̚"
No. 1054287 ID: 9d2b34



These people are afraid. Let them know you are a simple, pious soul, like them. Show empathy.
No. 1054288 ID: ccbbb0

rolled 1 = 1

This must be a dream. Play along, plead innocent and

If rolling 1: Tell the priest he is resolute and stalwart.

If rolling 2: Call him a "protestant prostitute" and say the Pope did nothing wrong.
No. 1054328 ID: bbb04b

"Ye'd know quite well it matters not what we plead, so I'll spend mine breath to accuse instead; if anyone here were an agent of the devil come to lead men intae darkness, it's you! The wicked pleasures taken from these acts are writ plain upon your face! It is not too late fer the rest of ye to come to your senses!"
No. 1054330 ID: 681cb5
File 167433985254.png - (60.07KB , 700x550 , 14.png )

>This must be a dream. Play along.
This can’t be happening! This can’t be real! This has to be a dream! But… but why can’t you wake up!? WAKE UP DAMMIT! WAKE UP BELLE! WAKE UP! Oh god, please… help… Chris… help me…

With a trembling snout, you try your best to play along, to sound like them…
Belle: “I 'no not half 'f what ye speak of, 'ut I swear I be innocent. I be from out o' town. Wheel o' me 'agon broke, an' me 'usband ran 'head fo' some 'elp. Anot'ter 'agon 'topped by an' I 'itched-” but the priest silence you before you can finish.
Tall Priest: “We know who you are, witch, as you were born of the crow right here in the village. Your poisoned tongue will not save you now… nor will His gaze.”
Belle: “P-please, this is a mistake… I’m innocent! I don’t know where I am or how I got here but… the witch! The witch must have switched places with me!”
Tall Priest: “She pleads innocent to the crime of witchcraft!” the priest bellows out, ignoring everything else you said, “And thus she will be tried as the law demands!”
Wide Priest:“Is this all really necessary, brother Corbin?”

The tall priest stops dead in his tracks as a second priest approaches, this one far shorter and wider than the lanky form of the first priest.

Tall Priest: “You know the law, Father Thorn. We must prove this hag guilty before we can free her from this mortal coil.”
Wide Priest: “And what if you find her innocent?”
Tall Priest: “We won’t, you know that.”
Wide Priest: “But what if she truly is innocent?”
Tall Priest: “…”
Belle: “T-that’s right… listen to your resolute and stalwart friend… I’m innocent…”
Tall Priest: “So you wish to simply release this thing and let the corruption spread?”
Wide Priest: “No, I am sad to say that wouldn’t be possible.”
Belle: “What…?”
Wide Priest: “Even if they are in God’s eyes innocent, we have no choice in the matter. In the Father’s name, as we condemn them to the pyre, we can only pray the flames will purge their sinful bodies of His malevolent corruption! If we let even one of them live… then He will return for His blood… He always returns for His blood…”

Father Thorn looks over at you, clearly considering something, before stepping forwards towards your pyre.

Wide Priest: “But in the Father’s, the Son’s and the Holy Spirit name, may your sins be forgiven and your soul laid to rest.” As he speaks, he makes the gesture of the cross over your chest, “Let my blessing at least protect you from His wickedness, child.”
Tall Priest: “Father Thorn?”
Wide Priest: “You may proceed, Corvin. I am truly sorry, my child… but this is the only way.”
Tall Priest: “With testimonies from those witnessing your dark arts, with your fathers sins weighting heavy upon you, I hereby declare you guilty of witchcraft! Your sentence will be death!”
Belle: “The only one guilty of being an agent of the devil is you! The wicked pleasures taken from these acts are written plain upon your face! It is not too late for the rest of you to come to your senses!”
Wide Priest: “Trust me, child, I find no pleasure in this wicked deed.”
Tall Priest: “But I do! You dare accuse me of being in bed with the devil, when you were born from his very loins!? You who has partaken in His dark rituals and brought forth so much pain and suffering? No, the only agent of darkness here is you and your sisters, and I will enjoy watching every last one of you burn, witch. LIGHT THE PYRE!”
No. 1054331 ID: 681cb5
File 167433986403.png - (118.86KB , 700x550 , 15.png )

The flames quickly consume the pile you’re standing on, and you start to scream as the searing pain engulfs your lower half. Though you’re not able to scream for long, as a thick, black smog rises from the burning wood, filling your lungs with it dark sot and strangling you from within. You cannot breath… and you must scream. The pain is too much, as you can feel your flesh sears of from your bones and the smoke burning away at your lungs, that your consciousness is about to fail you. Sweet oblivion, save me from this hell…
No. 1054332 ID: 681cb5
File 167433987372.png - (31.70KB , 700x550 , 16.png )

But then you look up into the sky and everything becomes calm. Even as your flesh burn and your lung fill with black smoke, tranquility washes over you as you spot the red star hanging in the sky, ever so slowly growing bigger and bigger. Its existence doesn’t help you with your pain… but simply knowing that you won’t be here when It arrives, to suffer the fate it has in store for you all, lets you accept the coming death…

All that is left for you is to curse your father’s name with your last breath, the crow that has brought this evil upon you… may he burn in hell for eternity for his sins... or worse.

Finally, you are at peace…

>K̷̮͠I̸̗͒L̸͍̭̀̈́L̷̨͘ ̸͚̥̀͠M̵̪̈́̈́E̸͉͠ ̶̝̗͂N̸͓̬͂̚Ȏ̴͚̈́W̶̠̬͑̚
You shall not be granted such mercy.
No. 1054334 ID: 681cb5
File 167433993663.png - (101.94KB , 700x550 , 17.png )

With a silent scream you catapult up from the bed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you take heavy breaths. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes darting around the room in a panic but unable to find any danger. It was only a dream… yet it felt so real... you should feel the burning flames and your lungs still hurt… yet, it wasn’t real?

Finally able to calm down, you gaze around the master bedroom, unable to find your love anywhere… but the smell of newly toasted bread coming from the slightly ajar bedroom door betrays his location. Taking a deep breath, you look out the window to see the sun rising over a clear blue sky while the songs of birds can be heard on the wind. Today might be a nice day after all… maybe it was just a nightmare?
No. 1054335 ID: 19ea25

A nightmare that may have been triggered by the smell of burnt toast. Nothing to fear, lets head down and get some proper breakfast.
No. 1054336 ID: dee951

Hmmm. That was... ahistorical. That wasn't how any of the Puritan witch trials or ANY of that stuff went. There are records of this stuff, how people pled, what happened, and so on. HANGING was the punishment for witchcraft at this time, both in Europe and in the Americas, not burning! And only TWENTY people were executed in the Salem Witch Trials, by hanging! With, you know. Actual trials! Burning was European, and done centuries earlier.

That's more like... something warping perceptions of historic events, and conflating two separate, albeit slightly similar, events, and making it some warped reflection of both. Or perhaps the modern pop culture misunderstanding?

Your memories of your teenage New Age phase brings to mind the idea of 'subtle realms' that are reflections of the ideas and mythology people have about things, inhabited by Tulpas/Egregores created by the collective unconsciousness, moreso than anything that actually happened. Perhaps that?
No. 1054337 ID: facc9c

Talk to your husband about your nightmare. Let him comfort you and make you feel better.

Then consider looking up the names Father Thorn and Corbin in some of the books in the house. Tbose names seem oddly significant. And maybe look up rumors about a red star.
No. 1054339 ID: 01fe07

Go talk to your husband. Dreams like that are really upsetting and usually require lots of hugs and kisses to feel better.
No. 1054351 ID: 15a025

Perhaps your husband can help calm you from that nightmare.

Hm, if he's made toast maybe that means you've got electricity now as well.
No. 1054356 ID: 15c72a

House is cursed. Go stay in a hotel.
No. 1054368 ID: dee951


This. Even if it's not cursed, the creepy environment is giving you a bad stress reaction!
No. 1054507 ID: 681cb5
File 167449402506.png - (102.94KB , 700x550 , 18.png )

>Hmmm. That was... ahistorical.
Ahistorical? Since when do nightmares need to follow history? Heck, most of the time they don’t even make physical sense!
>*Talk about 'subtle realms' and Tulpas/Egregores created by the collective unconsciousness.*
The what in the what now? Ugh, it’s way too early to think about weird stuff like that… maybe after you’ve had a cup or two of coffee.

>A nightmare that may have been triggered by the smell of burnt toast. Nothing to fear, lets head down and get some proper breakfast.
A calm washes over you when that smell fills your nostrils. Of course that was nothing more than that, a nightmare… which burned to the ground because of the smell of baked bread. That… and the fragrance of black coffee…

You make your way towards the smell, only stopping to quickly clean yourself and get some clothes on, before venturing out through the bedroom door and into the halls of this shadow filled manor. Standing in the corridor on the second floor, you glance around a bit before continuing, noting the layout of your new home. Not counting the door you came from then there is only one other door here, leading to some unknown room, as well as a small storage closet and finally the stairs down to the entrance hall.

Tiptoeing onto the cold stone that adore the first floors foyer, you can hear the faint voice of your husband singing echo through the rooms, originating from the same direction as the smell of bread and old coffee. You throw a glance towards the room with the fire place, noting that the painting is now covered by a white sheet, but even then you decide to take the other way around the mansion. Walking into the room right across the entrance, you find yourself in some sort of gallery, filled with several empty tables against the walls as well as a rather large piano in the middle of it. Of course, the thing that really catches your eye is the six, large paintings hanging in the room, every last one of them covered by some drapery hanging from the ceiling. Your next stop is the dining hall, where an overly large table is suited in the middle of it, surrounded by at least two dozen chairs, angled in such a way that everyone sitting down would be able to look out the grand window which shows of an amazing view of Crowmoor proper. Once again, you peek into the room with the painting; just to be sure it’s still covered, as you pass the door leading to it while making your way to your destination… the kitchen. The delightful smell of roasted coffee beans and newly made bread fills your soul as you watch your cute little hubby dance around the gas oven, pulling out some newly toasted bread from it before noticing that you’re here.

Chris: “Ah, love, I didn’t see you there! And here I was being in a hurry to get this done so I should surprise you with a breakfast in the bed, but maybe this is for the best. Don’t want to get crumbs into our new king sized bed, would we dear? Now, as we still haven’t gotten our electric back I was forced to be a bit creative, so I just boiled some eggs, made some toast in the oven and finally warmed up the leftover coffee we had with us on the trip, the one in the thermos, remember? Oh, and I got you todays paper as well, because I know-”

He finally turns around and looks you in the eye… and immediately notice something is wrong.

Chris: “Belle… are you alright?”
No. 1054508 ID: 681cb5
File 167449403391.png - (87.65KB , 700x550 , 19.png )

The two of you enjoy your sandwiches and coffee, snuggling together, as you tell him about your nightmare.

Chris: “You do know that they usually didn’t burn witches, right?”
Belle: “Don’t you start with that.”
Chris: “But don’t worry, Belle, it will be fine. It was just a dream, nothing else… and I know the perfect cure for bad dreams!”
Belle: “Oh? And that is?”

He snuggle up against you, kissing the side of your snout as he embraces your body and scratch that perfect spot right above your tail.

Chris: “Lots of hugs and kisses!”
Belle: “Heh, you always knew how to perk me up, hubby.”
Chris: “And you always knew how make me the happiest man alive, love.”
Belle: “Still… maybe we should go and stay in a hotel? Just in case this place is either cursed or haunted? Or both?”
Chris: “Dear, there’s nothing to worry about. You’re just a bit stressed from the move, that’s all. I bet you’ll feel better after you’ve grown accustomed to this place. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure that horror movie about evil preachers burning people alive you saw right before we left didn’t help, Belle.”
Belle: “Maybe you’re right…”
Chris: “Besides, what hotel? I don’t believe this little town even has one, which means we would need to go all the way to Arkham… without a car, I have to remind you.”
Belle: “Huff… I keep forgetting we’re stuck here…”
Chris: “How about this… why don’t we do something after breakfast to get your mind off things, hmm? Maybe we can… I don’t know; explore our new home a bit? I’m certain there should be a library in here somewhere… or we can go down to the town! Visit that pub O’mally’s just down the street? It was a really cute, rustic place with a lot of charm… and very welcoming people as well!”
Belle: “…what happened to the broker, anyway? Has he been by with the fuses yet?”
Chris: “No, haven’t heard a squeak from him. Tried to call him but it just went to voice mail. But that won’t stop us, will it? I’m sure there’s a spare pair of fuses somewhere in this house… or we can just go down and find a shop to buy them in? Worst case we’ll just head over the brokers office and see if he got them or not, right?”
Belle: “Hmm… yeah… maybe…”
Chris: “So a lot of options for today, dear… which one caught your fancy?”
Belle: “…I need to check that book first, love.”
No. 1054509 ID: 681cb5
File 167449404179.png - (94.79KB , 700x550 , 20.png )

>Then consider looking up the names Father Thorn and Corbin in some of the books in the house. Those names seem oddly significant. And maybe look up rumors about a red star.
Both Corbin and Thorn are easy to find, as they are nearly at the start of the book. Though, seeing as they lived long before cameras, there is instead two simple sketches of them in the book instead. It doesn’t say much about them, other than they are a priest and his assistance who arrived in the new world in the mid-1600s from England, and settled here in Crowmoor when the town was founded by Bövel Kråkholme.

Belle: “Look, that’s them! I recognize them!”
Chris: “Are you sure? Did they really look like that?”
Belle: “Well… no… they were more like shadows but… one was a bird and the other… I guess they should have been a tortoise?”
Chris: “Hmm, maybe you saw them yesterday when you were flipping through the book?”
Belle: “It’s… possible, yeah…”

You also find out that this Isaac Thorn had a family in Crowmoor, as there are several other Thorns through the generations, many of them even being priests themselves. Near the end of the book, right before the pages become completely blank, you find a Polaroid picture of a “Father Elijah Thorn”, who must be the current priest of Crowmoor. “While spending most of his youth in Africa, Elijah Thorn returned to his roots here in Crowmoor in his later years, becoming the reverend of the old St. Emerik church.” Huh, this picture can’t be more than a few years old, so he should still be around, right?

Chris: “Hey, I know that church! The one in the background!”
Belle: “You do?”
Chris: “We drove past it, remember? It is down the hill, just beyond the pub, right as you enter Crowmoor.”

Looking at these pictures, you can’t really see the malice you felt in the dream. Sure, Elijah looks like a grumpy old man, but he doesn’t look evil, does he?

Chris: “So… what’s the plan, dear?”
No. 1054510 ID: 5d9787

Let's buy supplies. Minimum amount of food because we will need to carry without the car. Some extra fuses and whatever safety electrical component the shop owner recommend. Also candles, matches, oil lamp, oil and batteries for the flashlights. One way or another this house will be illuminated.
No. 1054521 ID: 5560d0

It would be a little odd to pop into the church out of nowhere and start asking a bunch of strange questions so I say take it easy and give the pub a visit. You can get accustomed with some of the townsfolk and learn more about the town first. Plus there's bound to be some old stories and legends about the town that the regulars love to tell outsiders. Then you can grab some supplies and those fuses on the way back home.

Also give Chris more smooches!
No. 1054525 ID: 281b3c

Maybe get one of those camping flashlights that you shake for a bit to charge the batteries to give light? And has an omnidirectional 'lantern' mode! Preferably also something that works as a club! If only for the psychological benefit!
No. 1054526 ID: 281b3c

Also, go get some spices and herbs. A huuuge chunk of the spice cabinet supposedly wards off evil: salt, cayenne, thyme, sage, rosemary, dill, garlic, the list goes on and on! Find some spices that have a good chunk of those in the ingredients list, and keep them around and sprinkle them places. Even if it's just placebo (or having alternative smells while you sleep!), it should still help. Rituals are important, yaknow??
No. 1054527 ID: 281b3c

Red Star? Could be Mars, though it's a planet. There's Arcturus, a well known Red Giant, but the fact of what Red Giants were was discovered in the early 20th century...
No. 1054542 ID: 15c72a

>town doesn't have a hotel
What *does* the town have?

Go to the church. You have a lead, follow it.
No. 1054627 ID: 681cb5
File 167460810654.png - (89.31KB , 700x550 , 21.png )

>Give Chris more smooches!
As you plant a big one right on his lips, you’re pretty sure you feel his bowtie spin in excitement.
>Red Star? Could be Mars, though it's a planet. There's Arcturus, a well known Red Giant, but the fact of what Red Giants were was discovered in the early 20th century...
…well, apparently they didn’t burn witches back then either, so what does your dreams know anyway? Still, might be something to look into…

>What *does* the town have?
Chris: “Um… well… a long beach and a nice looking lighthouse?”
Belle: “This climate isn’t really made for hanging out on a beach facing the Atlantic, hun.”
Chris: “And then there’s the university facilities and asylum…”
Belle: “Joy…”
Chris: “Oh, and they got a large library there too, love!”
Belle: “Now that sounds a bit better. Anything else?”
Chris: “Hmm… I’ve heard that there are several interesting shops located in the northern part of town… and there is an old theater in the south, though it’s only open on the weekends.”
Belle: “…I don’t know what I expected to find in a small town like this, really…”
Chris: “Worst come to worst, it’s only an hour to Arkham, so we can always spend the weekends there, Bluebell.”
Belle: “As long I get to spend them with you, Sunflower.”

>Take it easy and give the pub a visit.
On the way to the pub the two of you make a quick stop at a general store, to pick up some… ‘essentials’. Luckily, the warmth of the sun has dried most of the mud, making it easy for the two of you to walk down to this ‘O’mally’s’.
Chris: “Okay, the fuses I get, but the oil lamp, spices and garlic!?”
Belle: “Better safe than sorry, my sun. I’m sure the smell of fresh species will make me sleep better… and ward of evil…
Chris: “Evil, love?”
Belle: “It’s important to have rituals, dear.”

As you get close to the pub house, you pass an old crow lady begging for money, though seeing as she reeks of alcohol it’s quite clear what she wants to spend it on.

Chris: “She was here yesterday too, though she was digging through the trash instead of begging. Poor girl.”
No. 1054628 ID: 681cb5
File 167460811565.png - (75.90KB , 700x550 , 22.png )

The mood changes drastically as you enter the pub proper, as you’re met by the sound of chipper music playing on a radio somewhere as well as the sound of laughter from some of the patrons inside. The warm interior of the establishment is rather inviting after coming in from the cold, autumn morning, even if the smell of booze taint the air. The man behind the bar, a rather large and muscular dog, lights up as he sees you, clearly recognizing you.

Perry: “Why, you must be the Knott lass!” he cheerfully exclaim as he wave for you to come inside, “Welcome to O’mally’s! Names Perry O’mally, but you can just call me Perry.”
Belle: “You know who I am?”
Perry: “Why, of course! Your husband came by yesterday and told such amazing things about you, while he waited for his car to get towed. Though I have to admit, lass, while we thought his tall tales was exaggerated, you’re far lovelier than he would ever describe.”
Chris: “I’m right here, you know…” Chris grumbles as he reaches up to the top of the bar counter, having to stand on the tips of his toes to do so.
Perry: “Oh! So you are, young master Knott! My apologies, I didn’t see you there, lad!”
Chris: “Don’t worry, mate, it happens.”
Perry: “Now, what can I offer the two of you? Here to try out my famous breakfast…” he gesture towards the many bottles behind him before continuing, “…or do you rather have some poison to greet the morn, hmm?”

>Plus there's bound to be some old stories and legends about the town that the regulars love to tell outsiders.
Looking around, you can see three groups of people in here, not including the pub owner himself. Near the door there’s a pair of old ladies playing cards, talking about all kind of mundane things, while further in there’s a table full of what you believe is fisherman, laughing merrily as they eat. Finally there’s a group of men on the other side of the pub, wearing leather and drinking already, with the larges member, a wolf, eying you hungrily. Anyone of these three, as well as the bartender, might be talkative if you approach them in right way.

Old Photo album
Oil lamp
Spice blend
No. 1054629 ID: 15c72a

Old crow lady? Might be a coincidence, but your dream mentioned a crow who did something terrible. You should give her money on the way out, and see if she knows anything about the Old Blood.

Ask him about why he has a red-eyed crow on his sign.
No. 1054672 ID: 08de23

In such a small town, people tend to know everyone's business, right? Ask the barkeep about the crow lady, sympathetically. Maybe she went mad or something, leading her to the bottle...?
No. 1054678 ID: 3b7261

I wanna hear about the wolf with the vanity contacts and the getup who is eyeing me like he wants to do something illegal to me. Should I be concerned?
No. 1054680 ID: 5560d0

Thank the barkeep and compliment the pub, it's certainly very charming and lively, very inviting. Casually bring up that there seems to be a certain wolf that seems to have an eye on you, should you be concerned?

Explain that you want to get to know the town better and ask about the pub and the town in general, any fun history that he can tell you about?

>Food and drink
Damn you just ate. Does a morning drink tickle your fancy?
No. 1054687 ID: 681cb5
File 167469297605.png - (77.52KB , 700x550 , 23.png )

As the smell of frying bacon whiffs past you, followed by the aroma of fresh citrus, you regret having breakfast back at the mansion… though if you ate here you might not have been able to hug your hubby, so it might just even out in the end.

Belle: “We have to decline, as we just had breakfast before we came here.”
Perry: “Then maybe a morning drink will tickle you fancy, lass? First glass on the house!”
Belle: “…a glass of something sweet wouldn’t hurt. Something non-alcoholic.”
Perry: “I know just the thing, Mrs. Knott…”

Perry turns around and grabs a bottle from the shelf behind him, before bending down a bit to pick up a newly cleaned glass hidden behind the counter. With a quick, experienced motion he uncorks the bottle, fills the glass with the green, yellowish liquid and without missing a beat slides it over to you.

Perry: “Here we go, a glass of our finest pear cider. Oh, and we got todays newspaper available for all ‘paying’ customers, if you haven’t read it already.” He says while gesturing towards a pile of papers near the door.
Belle: “Thank you, Perry...” you take a sip from the glass, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste, before looking around the pub again, “This place is certainly very charming and lively.”
Perry: “Ha!” Perry tries to hide his goofy smile before continuing, “You should have seen this place before I took over. Let just say I had a lot of cleaning up to do.”
Belle: After taking another sip from the glass, you ask, “Speaking of the old owner… that old sign outside, with the red eyed raven? What is that about?”
Perry: The dog doesn’t answer at first, instead pulling out his own glass and filling it with the same cider he gave you, “Ah, yes, that old thing. Been meaning to get rid of it but… it got its charm you know? This place used to be called ‘The crow nest’ before I took over, not unlike a lot of other things in this town. They have a bit of a crow theme going on, you know.” he takes a quick sip before adding, “And the eyes are supposed to be brown, but wear and tear has made it look a lot more menacing, lass.”
Belle: “This town has a crow theme?”
Perry: “It is called Crowmoor, you know… as in ‘Crow’ and ‘moor’.” Throwing a glance out of the window, he pauses for a second, “It goes way back to the founder of this place, the old blood… their name means something like ‘Crow Islet’ in their old tongue, though seeing as this place wasn’t an islet it became a moor instead… not that it is a moor either nowadays.”
Belle: “The old blood? You mean the… um… Kråkholme or what they were called?”
Perry: “That’s right. They were some noble from some weird, godforsaken country in the old world before they came here… well, I guess they still are, seeing how young Master Chris is a relative of theirs. So cheers to that!” he belloves as he rises his glass and take a large gulp.
Belle: After taking a sip as well, you ask, “So you know their history?”
Perry: “Not really… I know that the last of their line went bloody mad and killed his family, before committing suicide in the asylum in town. Quite a messy affair, I’ve been told… he was completely convinced he had saved them or some such. Kept rambling about the devil and some star as well. Poor sod.”

You take a moment to just enjoy the quiet and relax a bit, sipping from your cider. Throwing a glance around the room you can still see the wolf staring at you while the old ladies seem to be… reading tarot cards? Finally, you notices Chris has joined the sailors in some kind of dice game, having a merry time with those strangers... you were wondering where he had disappeared too. He always had a knack for befriended pretty much anyone. Turning your head a bit to look out the window, you can see the raven hobo going through a trashcan on the other side of the street, clearly desperate to find either food or a drink.

Belle: “We saw this raven outside, begging for money. Do you know anything about her? She seems like she needs help…”
Perry: “Oh, so you’ve seen our resident old mad bird. Ignore her, she’s harmless… mostly just talks about nonsense, so don’t go believing anything she might say.”
Belle: “But surely she has some kind of history?”
Perry: He lifts up his glass and turns it a bit in the sunlight, “I have to admit, I’m not the person to ask about that… though I know she used to be a respected… what was it?” With one swift quaff, he finishes his drink, “Doctor, I think? That all I know, lass, sorry.”

The raven fishes up an old bottle from one of the cans, suckling on it as if she was a new born babe that had just found a bottle of warm milk. With a sigh you look back over the interior of the pub, watching as your hubby seemingly wins a round much to his delight, before locking eyes with the wolf that is still staring at you from across the room.

Belle: “…and the wolf? The one that has been staring at me since I came here, who is he? Should I be concerned?”
Perry: “Hmm?” Perry looks over at the wolf, who gives him a wide smile, before looking back at you, “Ah, you mean that rascal Miller? While I’ve never seen him do anything to bad, there are rumors that he is up to less than legal escapades. So I wouldn’t recommend trying to befriend him, no.”
Belle: “Less than legal? Really?”
Perry: O’mally leans in and whispers, “You didn’t hear this from me, but there are rumors floating around that he and his friends are smuggling something through the port here.” The dog gives you a quick nod as he pulls away from you again.

Belle: You finish your glass and push it towards Perry… “So… this place got any funny stories? I mean, the town?”
Perry: “Funny? Hmm…” he picks up both glasses and places them in front of him, before pulling out a rag, “I’m not sure we have a lot of funny stories, no…”
Belle: “Then how about just stories, then?”
Perry: Cleaning one of the glasses for a bit, he lift it up in the light to inspect it while answering, “Well… you already know about the murder-suicide... and then there’s all the missing children as well, at least according to the paper…”
Belle: “All are these stories this gruesome?”
Perry: “There is the rumors that this place used to belong to some obscure tribe of natives before Kråkholme came here… there’s even an archeologist lass on the other side of town that wants to do a dig here, but so far she hasn’t been able to get the necessary approvals.”
Belle: “Archeology you say?”
Perry: “Supposedly there’s a lot of old treasure to find if you know where to look.” The Dog puts both the bottle and the glasses away, before starting to scrub the bar itself with the rug, “Now, was there anything else I can help you with, lass?”
No. 1054709 ID: 15c72a

Go ask the wolf why he's staring.
No. 1054712 ID: dee951


The guy just recommended NOT trying to befriend the wolf, oof!!!
No. 1054724 ID: 15c72a

What part of that implied making friends?
No. 1054749 ID: a9af05

>Kept rambling about the devil and some star as well. Poor sod.
It can't be a coincidence that your nightmare also involved a star. Perhaps its related to why the previous guy went crazy? Hopefully this doesn't mean you'll also go crazy!
No. 1054751 ID: 75f1f5


Ask flat out if it was a red star. A reference to Mars, perhaps?
No. 1054962 ID: 15a025

Smugglers huh? Are they any, shady areas in town we might wanna avoid?
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