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Old 02-08-2009, 05:29 PM   #3
Onkel Neal
Born to Run Silent
 
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SUBSIM Werewolf Hunt

The Backstory

Darkness, shadows, stretching from the medieval tower known as Nightwatch all the way to the small village, Vanvikan. A nearly full moon rose over the highest spire of the tower, casting its eerily fateful light onto the village below.

And this is where we begin. You, each of the players, are members of a U-boat resupply station in wintery Norway, just across 9 miles of fjord north of Trondheim. You are guarding a secret fuel depot, resupplying U-boats, and some of you are U-boat crews resting after an arduous patrol. There were rumors of a disease spreading through the nearby village of Vanvikan. A plague. Some said it was the disease of the wolves: that at night, when the moon was full, a man would be turned into something else - an abomination, neither man nor wolf, but a terrifying creature of death. And they said it was the tower, Nightwatch, from where the plague came.

So here you are. The madness has begun - there is no way to leave the base until the nightmare ends. No one who ventures into the woods surrounding the base ever returns. And so you are trapped. No one knows who to trust, anyone could be infected with the disease. Your goal now is simply to survive.


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The Land of Long Shadows






Feb. 8, 1945 0420
It was a hollow night at Mercy's Inn in Vanvikan. Outside under a soulless moon a fog blanketed the tiny, wooded Norwegian village that sat on a bluff overlooking Kamp Letzte Jagd, a supply depot for the 13th Flotilla U-boats. Trondheim was a mere 23 kilometers across the fjord, but in this dark and claustrophobic night, it may as well have been on another planet. Atmospheric conditions this close to the Arctic Circle played hell with radio communications and between the gloomy fog, the endless acres of woods, and frigid fjord, Kamp Letzte Jagd was about as isolated as any place Kapitänleutnant Jimbuna had ever been. The lovely young Penelope Grey came over and topped off his stein of ale.

“I hear Oberst Chad is looking for you, Kapitan,” she said with a charming smile. There were a few lasses in Vanvikan’s meager population of 130 fishermen, woodsman, and tillers, fewer still who could match Penelope’s smile.

“Ja, ja, I know. He will be asking for my patience, which is all I have left since he cannot get my torpedoes back from the machine shop in a reasonable amount of time.”

As Jimbuna began to think he would be more comfortable back in his bunk on U-13, the tavern door swung open and in walked Oberst Chad and the Mayor of Vanvikan, the Hon. Mr. Contact.

“Guten abend, Kapitan,” said Mayor Contact, with a worried look.

“Your honor. Oberst. How are you men tonight?” replied Jimbuna.

They sat at the small table and motioned to Nokia to send Penelope over with more ale and some fritters.

“Herr Keluen, your provisions should arrive in a few days,” began Oberst Chad. “I understand you wish to be back at sea, but the locals have become less cooperative as this war goes on,” he said, with a look at the Mayor Contact.

Contact leaned back and gestured with open hands, “As the war winds down, perhaps you mean. I wish you would not put it that way, Oberst Chad. You must understand, we are your friends and allies. Most Norwegian men support the Reich, and not simply because we have no choice. But there are some who will not be sad to see the Germans leave. They present difficulties, and my small village can only do so much to assist the great German Navy.”

Kapitänleutnant Jimbuna eyed the Mayor with suspicion, and saw that Oberst Chad was casting the same look at him. “What? What is it?”

“I read your report, Kapitänleutnant, and something concerns me. You stated that you brought your U-boat to the shore at the entrance to the fjord to let your men do some hunting in the woods. That’s a very serious security matter. My men have shot several saboteurs and spies in that area of Norway.”

“Ja, the same men of yours who are out in the woods tonight, hunting for deer and getting drunk. That’s a pretty serious matter, as well, wouldn’t you say?”
Oberst Chad said nothing.

“My men were on patrol for five weeks, Oberst,” continued Jimbuna. “I made the command decision that a little rest and small arms practice was in order. We saw no saboteurs, I assure you.” He turned to the Mayor. “If we had, we would have shot them.”

For a brief moment, Jimbuna thought he saw a flash of emotion on Mayor Contact’s face. Maybe it was the uncertain light of the candle. But the Mayor’s face held no clues to his thoughts.

Jimbuna got to his feet. “Gentlemen, I would like to stay but I have to check on my men. I have stationed Seamen Firewall and Aramike as port watches and I want to see if they are up to the task.”

“Gute, I also will want to make the rounds,” said Oberst Chad. “Tonight Gemeiner Letum and Laufen zum Ziel have guard duty and I know young Letum likes the ladies, so I must be sure they are not guarding some fraulein’s chambers.”

They parted. Jimbuna walked to the pier as the dawn’s early light crept across the sandy beach. Before he reached the quay, he heard shots and shouting in the area of the fuel tanks. He ran to the pumping station, as fast as his sealegs would take him. There he found Leutnant zur See Nisgeis, Oberfähnrich zur See Fincuan, and Oberfeldwebel UnderseaLcpl with several villagers.

“What is the meaning of all this shooting around the fuel tanks? Don’t you know…”

A ghastly specter brought him up short. There on the frozen ground was a corpse, shredded and ripped and ringed with a mantle of bloody snow.

“Her Keleun, I was returning from…a friend’s house and heard a scream,” said Leutnant zur See Nisgeis.

“Ja,” said Oberfähnrich zur See Fincuan, “I was looking for a spanner in the toolbox and I saw two men struggling…at least, it looked like two men. Here is one, as you can see, but the other…got away into the darkness.”

“I say he was injured,” said Oberfeldwebel UnderseaLcpl, “he was running very strangely, almost loping, you might say.” He was breathing heavily. “I came from the east guard tower, it’s a long run, let me tell you.”

“Damn it, these drunken U-boatsmenn, they are always causing trouble…” started XabbaRus, a bearded sailor with a bottle of schnapps in his hands.

Mookiemookie, the postman, laid a hand on his arm. “Come on, Xabba, back to the pub with you.” They turned and disappeared in the growing light of dawn.

“Do ye know who he may have been?” asked one old fisherman.

“Hard to say, not much left. I think he was Gus, the old constable.”

The tiny knot of people stared at the bloody ruins that was once a man.



DAY BEGINS

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