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Strangerj

Steel and Dynamite [RP]

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“Alright.” He grabs the crowbar, and goes over to the door. He forces it open with ease, and steps into the hallway. “Come, come. We’ve got some interesting things to find.”

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"I'll bring up the rear in case any of the cultists try to pull a fast one on us. To be on the safe side there might be more of those creatures we fought earlier as well so sinking a few rounds into them would be good practice in case we do find some wizards hurling fire." Both his hands were brushing the leather strips keeping his guns in their holsters. Once the bad guys made their move he would be able to clear leather and bring his firearms to level with ease.

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The hallway is long, made of grey brick and lit by long, thin lights. On the right is a row of cells, four of them. Two open, one half open, and one locked shut. The other side is blank, but it feels like something should be there. Nate pokes around in one of the open cells.

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Pondering why the cells were left in such a state he pulls the ajar jail door fully open and begins to root around inside. Checking if anything is worthy of investigation. 

(Do I need to make any rolls for this or not?) 

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(Nah.)

 

The door creaks open, loudly, and the cell is revealed. A simple bed sits in the corner, not made for quite some time,  and a sink is next to a partition for a toilet. It’s your standard 3 foot by 3 foot jail cell. Seems like something’s under the pillow.

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"Unknown object under the pillow in here stand clear going to investigate!" The scoundrel felt stronger in his own stomping ground of a police station with the authority of his previous professional  that rush of power was brief though. He silently added under his breath "Hope this doesn't blow up in my face". Slowly he picked his way over and then with the speed of a coiled snake he tore the pillow away and leapt back preparing for the worst. 

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Rolled a 76 from Roll20.net in case you wanted me to make a roll here. 

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The paper is pristine, almost brand new.

It reads:

To whomever finds this note,

You cannot stop it.

The other side seems to be a suicide note, dated 1943.

To whomever finds my body,

I leave my earthly possessions to be burned with me. And I leave the mayor, Joseph Henry Allison, to burn in Hell for his sins.

Daniel MacReady, 1943.

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The ex-lawman brow furrowed as his eyes fixated on the date 1943. What on earth could a note so dated be doing resting under the pillow of this cell? Not to mention how pristine it was to surely the ink would have been faded or smudged by now something was unsettling about all this could it be a false trail by the cultists that had taken over the town? He hollered for his partner. "Nathan in here! I found a note that you need to read pronto!"  

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“Don’t... call me that.”

He walks over, peering over the detective’s shoulder. “Strange. Seems a bit odd. From the past to the future. What could it... hmmmm...” He stands, pondering.

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"We have found evidence of these cultists taunting us with their grand plan going full speed ahead. Not to mention that suicide note looks vaguely suspicious perhaps the man condemned to this cell was a member of the cult or perhaps investigating them himself. How can you be so calm at a time like this? Do we even have the resources to stop them!?" The normally carefree facade was falling off Roscoe's face like a rock-slide fitting that everything else would only cause minor discomfort though actual evidence might as well been poison to him.  

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Nathaniel cocks his head. “N...no. I think this was unrelated. Suicide... but no noose. Let’s look for something to tell the story.”

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