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Dr Ron and Mrs Hepplethwaite Try To Save the World - A Rel1ct Playthrough

The Game:

The Players:

Chris and Morgan (who is the 'I' in this post)

~~~

What follows is a duo playthrough of BrewistTableTopGames' horror game, Rel1ct. This game is intended to be played alone but has optional variant rules for playing as a pair, which we used. Our results are probably not typical - but we had a ton of fun!

The game requires a standard deck of playing cards, one D6 for each player, a notebook/pen to respond to prompts, and the Rel1ct PDF. Players draw cards to determine which challenge they encounter from the Rel1ct PDF, roll to see how well their characters do, and use those combined results as a writing prompt to record how their characters reacted and felt.

The Rel1ct PDF suggests writing a few sentences for each prompt. Chris and I wrote freely (sometimes for 10 minutes) until we reached the final stage of the game, the Entity in Section Three. What follows is the internal monologues of two characters who were uniquely unqualified for this particular quest.

I have written and presented our writing in the same order that Chris and I read them aloud to each other.

BEWARE: This playthrough involves spoilers for the writing prompts in Rel1ct. I got a great deal of joy going into this adventure blind - as you'll see, our characters weren't really suited for the task, but I think we generated quite an interesting narrative because of it!

If you're interesting in playing this game, consider running your own playthrough before reading this one.

~~~

The Characters:

Chris is playing a military astrologist named Dr. James Ron Walker Jr.

Morgan is playing a concerned mother and pillar of the local community, Mrs. Viola Hepplethwaite.

~~~

The Hopes and Trepidations

At the start of the game, characters generate 6 hopes/trepidations that will be used during gameplay. We alternated rolling and reading aloud - and quickly realised we were making characters with very different perspectives on life.

Dr. James: I fear there will be no world left for the children.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope that my best friend, Mrs. Margaret Thursgood, is alright. That glow on the hillside is awfully near her house and we were to play bridge together this coming Friday.

Dr. James: I hope that when my children are older, they will call me. That is, if their mother hasn't poisoned them against me.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope the village survives. The village fete is next week and I was so looking forward to the apple-dunking stand.

Dr. James: I fear that my hypothesis of universal obliteration is correct.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope I have time to bake next week. It has been an age since I last cooked cinnamon buns, and I do miss their sweetness.

Dr. James: I hope the mother of my children and her Italian lover drown on one of their ridiculous swingers' cruises.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope that my advertisment in the paper for a new bicycle gets seen. My current one is so fiddly on the chain.

Dr. James: I fear that all my training as an elite military astrologer will not be enough to save mankind.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope darling Eustace gets over his fear of frogs. It would be lovely to be able to go for family picnics at the pond again.

Dr. James: I fear the antipsychotics the military doctor prescribed are something far more sinister.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: I hope this unworldly entity doesn't interfere with the bi-annual town planning meetings. We were so close to getting that new community herb garden last time.

Totals:

Dr. James: 4 trepidations, 2 hopes

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: 6 hopes (she fears nothing, and her personality has sufferd greatly as a result)

~~~

Part One: Setting Out (Characters describe their initial reactions to the forest. Afterwards, I segue immediately into the drawing and resolving of encounters)

Mrs: Hepplethwaite: I am so relieved to have made the formal acquaintence of Dr Ron, whose weekly horoscopes I am always certain to read in the local paper. He breathes quite heavily, though, and as we make our way through this dark and frankly freezing cold forest, I am worried something may hear us. They say a comet has landed on the hillside. If darling Eustace is to have a chance at attending Eton this fall, I must do something about this unearthly invader.

Dr. James: I feel that the forest was designed for men. I think Mrs. Hepplethwaite is uniquely unsuited for this environment, and I do not know why she has come. I do not see the forest; I see only the potential for ambush.

I smell Mrs. Hepplethwaite. It stirs no reaction, but it is distinct.

[8 Clubs]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: That awful breathing wasn't Dr. Ron after all - it was a rash of dreadful lesions! They burst forth across our skins so swifly, so silently, that we made some progress through the forest before I realised the single set of straining lungs had turned into a chorus!

How awful! Seeing my own skin turn against me, feeling my own pores pant and pull at the humid vapours of this terrible night, I realised things would never again be the same. It matters not if this terrible foe from the stars interferes with the town planning meeting. Even if we survive and get a new community herb garden and everything else we've ever dreamt of, I know there are forced from beyond the known universe that can turn one's very skin against one's self.

(Mrs. Hepplethwaite loses 1 Hope)

Dr. James: The sense of breathing pustules is strange. At first I believed it to be a side effect of the medication that strange military doctor gave me. To take my mind off the discomfort, I thought of the day I would once again see John and Peace. It did not take much analysis to realise perhaps the distance between us, whilst stripping me of my purpose as a man, might be best for them. It would be a shame for them to see me so disfigured by alien forces.

(Dr. James loses 1 Hope)

[6 Hearts]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: We have definitely travelled through this part of the wood before. Dr. Ron ripped his jacket on the bushes and - look there, just ahead of us! The very same scrap of paisley wool pulled from his rather odd-looking attire.

I myself am certain that is the stone I broke my sensible but elevated heeled shoes upon not ten minutes prior. If there were more light, or if I was less tired, I would look for it.

The answer quickly came to me - break the time cyle by forcing new events to occur. I requested that Dr. Ron tell my horoscope, as the incursion of the terrible space entity prevented the Sunday paper - and his esteemed horoscope - from being published this week.

Upon hearing my request, which had not been made during our previous trek through this portion of time, Dr. Ron made the most incredible noise in the back of his throat. He said we didn't have time to marvel over the intricacies of Scorpio with Mars ascending just now. I agreed there was wisdom in this observation and - time loop defeated - we carried on.

Dr. James: Is this deja vu? Am I stuck in a time loop? Or has this insane woman been waxing on like a haunted Scrabble set for a hundred years?

The sun and stars spin as the universe expands, grinding to a stop as the rotation of the Earth slows to a halt. She natters on still. Is she talked to me? The stars are so far away and their lights are dying now. Does she think I am actually listening, or does she know I am trying to tune her out?

All time has run out. If she has a fall, I will leave her.

Oh, that strange time issue seems to have passed. I will try not to think about the aeons that passed, unless the effect returns.

[King Diamonds]

Dr. James: What is man? I am a shell, a husk capable of knowing it is empty and nothing more. But.. but wait! If I am empty, where is the red coming from?

The stars feel like home as I lie on this alien world, surrounded by forgotten trees, the choes of self and Mrs. bloody Hepplethwaite.

There.

A shred of what was, an angry woman fully dressed on a nudist beach. I know she is mad at me but I know not what 'me' is. I hope she is happier now than she was in that moment.

I must have hit my head when I fell. I think I'll be OK in a bit.

(Dr. James loses 1 Hope)

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: We were aiding on another up a steep portion of the forest floor, which we could not find a way around, when it happened. Dr. Ron was above me, hand extended, backlit by an unearthly glod that poured down from the accursed hilltop - and I realised I could not remember the face of my darling Eustace.

The realisation was so complete and upon me so entirely that I gasped aloud, released Dr. Ron's hand, and fell to the ground with my arms clasped about my head. It mattered not that twigs tore my bodice and stones ripped through my skirts - the foul entity atop the hill had stolen the face of my son!

Well, I don't mind saying that I wept. I wept, and the tears looked red in the celestial flow pouring from the night sky, but still I wept.

I remained quite inconsolable until my gaze happened upon a little frog clinging to the trunk of a nearby tree. It seemed to look at me, black eyes large and glassy, resplendant with the incandescent fogs sweeping down from the skies. In a moment, I remembered our family picnics at the pond, and how poor Eustance has always been so scared of the very creature staring back at me now.

In a moment, my son's face returned to me, bursting through my mind like a sparkler: narrow, handsome, slicked back hair and starched collar. Oh, Eustace. I will defeat this entity. I will ensure you attend Eton this fall. Perhaps we will even picnic at the pond again.

Stranger things have happened.

[5 Clubs]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: We had been walking together, heads down, eyes dark, for so long without speaking that when the droning stared up, I thought it was Dr. Ron humming to himself. I joined in, hoping to rouse our spirits, but the hum grew louder and louder.

I was just beginning to realise the noise was not emanating from the esteemed doctor at all when a thousand tiny objects pelted at us from above.

They darted from the trees, fromt he bushes, from the stars themselves - tiny insects! I screamed, terrible sound ripping through the hillside, but stopped myself when the awful things began flying into my mouth!

When the pain started, I realised they were digging into my flesh. Burrowing down, lodging themselves under my flesh.

I screamed and screamed. I furrowed my own face with my fingernails, the pain was so great. I screamed so long and so hard that I don't think my vocal cords will ever work right again. Forevermore, I will only ever taste my own blood weeping from wounds inside my cheeks and tongue, and the hard bodies of alien bugs crushed against my gnashing teeth...

(Mrs. Hepplethwaiate loses 1 Hope)

Dr. James: Call me old-fashioned, but I hate to see a woman crying blood. There's just something about it.

After we had recovered, we climbed on. It was dusk when the constant out-loud novelisation of our journey by one Mrs. Hepplethwaite attracted a swarm of iridescent bugs.

Whilst clearly otherwordly, the little fuckers seemed to prefer the taste of a woman. I don't blame them. Having tried both in a black market delicatessen during my third tour of combat, I can confirm categorically that the fairer sex are indee-

My she's really struggling with those bugs.

[Queen Clubs]

Dr. James: Before my civilised forebrain had begun to comprehend the creature that burst from the underbrush, my highly toned, military hindbrain had asessed the situation. Dropping to one knee and drawing my revolver from my ankle holster, I put 6 rounds into the crooked remnant of a deer.

One hit it between the eyes.

Another also between the eyes.

The third was an inch off target, which I corrected for by putting Bullets Four and Five squarely between the eyes.

As the sixth shot hit the beast between the eyes, I had only one thought: 'Why is it so dry?' Stretched thin and bleached by the sun, the skin of the deer appeared to be a suit worn by something else entirely, to which it was hopelessly ill-fitting.

Whilst the monster's momentum carried it to my feet, I did not know fear until I saw its component parts shatter and skitter up a nearby tree. Looking down at the weapon in my hand, I saw the first had beome rusted, the second old and leathered.

I dropped the gun and put my hand in my pocket. Best not to let Mrs. Hepplethwaite worry.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The bugs quite took it out of me, so when some kind of four-legged monstrocity thundered out of the brush toward us, I positively threw myself upwards and outwards, away from harm's reach.

Oh, Eustace, I am so glad you weren't there to see me climb that tree. The speed, the grace - you would have thought I spent all my spare moments leaping arboreal distances like some kind of Tarzan.

From my position atop a sturdy limb, I could just make out the events occuring below. Some kind of stag had charged us, though the poor creature had been rendered horribly twisted by the influence of the entity. Its mouth and jaws were all wrong.

Oh Eustace, no hunter would ever have sought this prize, nor mounted its head upon the wall!

I must say, Dr. Ron demonstrated the most peculiar - andyet effective - methods of dealing with this monstrous stag. He was all pinwheeling arms and kicking legs, knees and feet achieving heights that nearly rivalled that of the animal.

I know not how he dispatched the terrible creature, only that we survived. I shudder to think what may await us at the summit of this hill.

~~~

The Top of the Hill (character describe their emotions as they approach the Entity, then the Entity itself)

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The village was right: whatever this creature is, it arrived on a comet. The entire top of the hillside had been cleaved away. We arrived at last, not at a summit but in a cratered valley.

It is difficult to find words to describe the unearhtly entity that crouched there upon its rocky perch. There were tentacles, surely, and a beak that remsembled that of a squid's, but also I seemed to discern through gusts of terrible smoke the beady eyes of a frog and also feathers of a sort.

Truth be told, I was not certain how far I could trust what I was seeing. The pain of the burrowing insects was still very much with me, as was the horror of that moment in which I could not remember the face of my son. However awful these sensations, it seemed to me that something else settled over our little party as Dr. Ron and I created a burning ridge and descended toward the Being From The Stars: some foul influence that crowded my mind with evil chittering, that brushed against the inside of my skull and left slimy terror in its wake.

Dr. James: The crest of the hill brought with it a view of the sun, vast and indomitable: a sphere that filled the sky, its surface breathing boils that erupted into solar flares which, in turn, scattered iridescent swarms of light.

Its heat, drying these old soldier's eyes to pinholes.

I miss my gun, though I knew any bullet would take too long to reach this celestial monstrosity.

Solaris. Man's oldest foe.

[10 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The creature opened its terrible beak and - seeming to peer directly into my soul as it id so - belched. The fumes were acidic and unbearably hot, as if spewed from the depths of Hell itself. As I coughed and hacked, feeling I must go blind or die, an odd thought occurred: I would never play bridge with my good friend Margaret again, for as a resident of this very hillside, she is surel dead.

(Mrs. Hepplethwaite loses 1 Hope)

Dr. James: Colours broke upon me like a prism. In the crater below us, an unspeakable mess croaked in alien mockery. I no longer fear the antipsychotic medications prescribed to me are no longer worked. I have never been saner.

(Dr. James loses 1 Trepidation)

[King Spades]

Dr. James: A second nebulonic ejaculation of energies, this time a projected wave that missed me completely. Unfortunately, it hit Mrs. Hepplethwaite.

(Dr. James loses 1 Trepidation)

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The colours! The colours! The colours within the eyes of this foul demon! No wonder Eustace fears the frog so - they are terrible to behold!

(Mrs. Hepplethwaite loses 1 Hope)

[8 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The gnawing of insects was nothing compared to the humming of this Being From The Stars. My flesh seemed to shiver, as if it were all of a piece, and then runnel and drip from my bones. Oh Eustace! Oh Eton!

(Mrs. Hepplethwaite loses 1 Hope)

Dr. James: Pulsating like the heart of a neutron star, humanity's amphibian foe retched and groaned, vomiting out microwaves that I'm sure - had I not been trained by the British army and the Stargazer's Society - would have affected me in the same way they appeared to affect Mrs. Hepplethwaite. That old girl sure can take a hammering.

[7 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The shriek that emanated from the Alien Being rivalled my own in the forest, when th bugs burrowed beneath my skin. I am certain one of my eardrums burst, for I could feel blood running down the side of my neck.

Dr. James: The thought occurs to me now, in this my final hour (and Mrs. Hepplethwaite's final minute), that, in strange irony, my theory of universal obliteration was correct.

At that thougt, the beast screamed. Perhaps I had unwittingly projected my own waves, but not waves of aggression - waves of positive energies!

By God, if it turns out Sandra's hippy bullshit was right...

(Dr. James loses 1 Tredpidaton)

[9 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: In the moments after its scream, silence poured forth: a silence more awful than everything that had gone before. Then the air was full of sound and movement - more insects!

They poured out of the Alien Being with disgusting, deadly grace. Not wanting to submit myself to these creatures again, I threw myself to the ground and covered myself with all the ash and burnt detritus I could manage. Oh, how glad I was that only poor Dr. Ron was there to see me in my fallen state - but the desperate act appeared to work.

Some part of myself (smell, perhaps? though I had sprinkled myself liberally with Eau de la Ode before leaving the house on this awful quest, and could not possibly have smelled) had been disguised. The awful young of the Being From Space, left me in peace.

Dr. James: Centering myself, using the breathing technique Sandra's unqualified life coach tried to teach me, I took a deep breath. Opening my eye a moment later, I saw before me the pawn of a billion hungry geometries spiralling for domination of my world. My children's world.

'For Peace!' I yellowed, the sheer force of my vibe stripping the anomaly's young from their many polyhedral bones.

'For John!' I screamed, floating four inches off the floor.

(Dr. James loses 1 Trepidation)

[5 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: The creature, perhaps incensed by the thwarting of its foul brood, raised its tentacles. I shivered backwards but - too late - the Being let all its protrusions drop at the same time.

The shockwave swept through my bones, through my poor melted flesh. A haze of red drifted over my vision and, turning to Dr. Ron, I could see in his visage what must be occurring upon my own: white eyes turned red, blood flowing freely.

Dr. James: Countering my power with its own, the creature struck me down. What harmful thoughts must it have conjured to strike at me with such force, such negativity?

My eyes, my eyes, the balls of my eyes are exploded. It is much harder now to hold on to those happy thoughts.

[2 Spades]

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: Why did we come here? Something about Eton, about my son. Why, it is only a jelly, a squealing space jelly, and yet it will surely be the end of us all.

Dr. James: What do you even do in this situation? I'd like to go home, but without my eyes, how will I find the way?

[4 Spades]

Dr. James: Still blind, an unearthly noise fills the air. Am I to smell my way home?

Shit. Why am I looking for my eyes? Remember your training, soldier. They trained you for this.

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: Luckily, I was deafened in one ear or else the music the Space Being wrought using the winds would surely have driven me mad. Its tentacles pluck at the air, and oh how its beak snaps...

[3 Spades]

Dr. James: One last happy thought. Something to peel back the abyss. The happiest day of my life.

The birth of my son.

Sandra wanted to call him 'Peace', but I convinced her we could call the next one 'Peace'. I did not want a second child, nor did I want her to rion it like she ruined everything else.

The negativity was exactly the window my foe needed. I know not by what means I was made dead, only this: If Pedro's death is hald this bad, there may yet be a God.

(Dr. James loses a Hope when he has no more. He dies.)

Mrs. Hepplethwaite: Dr. Ron has fallen. I don't know why he doesn't get up. The... thing was looking at him before he fell. Now it is turning toward me, and I dare not meet its froggy gaze.

THE END