Tide of Serpents
Tide of Serpents is scenario one. It was first published on June 26, 2008.
Setup as normal.
Remove the following from the decks:
- 2x Dark Cloak
- 1x Blue Watcher of the Pyramid
- 1x Book of Dzyan
- 2x Cabala of Saboth
- 1x Enchanted Jewelry
- 2x The King in Yellow
- 1x Pallid Mask
- 1x Silver Key
Cultists in the outskirts do not count as awakening Yig. The streets do count as a location. The idea is that they are working together to awaken the snake and in the outskirts they could very well be on opposite sides of Arkham!
“…we find that the Mayan calendar, which ends famously in the year 2012–far enough off we needn’t worry, eh?–ah. Yes. The Mayan calendar remains a fabulously accurate measure of the movements of the heavens.” Amanda dutifully writes “movements of the heavens” down in her notes. Professor Walters drones on. “Curiously enough, when we consult the Mayan calendar to see what this month has in store, we find a celestial phenomenon noted that has not appeared in at least five hundred years and will not appear again before the–ahem–end. It is written thus in the Mayan.” A new slide appears, all carved stone ideographs. Amanda writes “unusual celestial phenomenon” down and yawns. “Well, none of you can read Mayan, I don’t suppose, but I can! Happy day. This month we can be expected to witness the ‘Rise of Quetzalcoatl,’ the Feathered Serpent. Now. There is no known star to which this corresponds, so what, precisely, are we to expect? Miss Sharpe?” Amanda looks up, startled, then down at her notes. She finds that she has drawn coiling, sinuous serpents all over the yellow paper.
Michael straightens his tie. “Louie, he’s down here.” He starts down the alley, leading with his shoulders and his jaw. When Michael McGlen moves like that, strong men get out of his way if they know what’s good for ‘em. “Listen here, fella. O’Bannion don’t like getting played for a-” Michael reaches out and grabs Frankie’s shoulder. Frankie’s two large in debt and two weeks behind and just leaning against the wall in this alley like Michael couldn’t find him? Frankie’s also deader’n a doornail. “What the deuce? Hey Louie! Come look at this!” It’s Frankie, all right, but he’s all bloated up and his tongue’s hanging out. There’s something sticky on his sleeve. Michael rolls it back and finds two neat puncture wounds about the size of a dime on his arm. “Louie?” Michael hears a body hit the floor and reaches for his Thompson. “…Louie?”
Sister Mary is on the train, watching the gabled roofs of Arkham grow ever closer. She is eager to do the Lord’s work in this new place and looks forward to the challenges and opportunities she will find there. But still, somehow, she is worried. When she arrives at the station, Mary gathers her things. Her bible–old and leatherbound, her first bible–falls open. She lifts it and reads aloud: “And the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life.” She smiles and tucks the book under her arm. She’s always enjoyed Genesis.
"Ashcan" Pete wakes from another nightmare to the sound of barking. He reaches out to quiet the dog and realizes he’s alone. The barking is coming from down near the river. Pete climbs to his feet and goes to see what in tarnation’s got Duke all worked up now. “Aw, leave off, Duke,” Pete says when he gets close. “Snake like that’s more afeared of you than you is of it, anyhow.” He reaches down and touches Duke’s head. “Aw, shoot. River done rose?” Then he stares. The moonlight gleams on what he thought was river water risen up above its banks, a shining, shimmering wave moving towards the heart of Arkham. Pete keeps staring and Duke keeps barking as the awfulness of what he’s seeing slowly sinks in. A tide of serpents is flowing into Arkham.