Operation Molten Carrier

OPERATION MOLTEN CARRIER
Adapted from the work of Allan W. Goodall: Water/Retention
HANDLER’S BRIEFING 2
Imperial Ambition 2
John Morsley, The Underhex 3
The Boss is Very Disappointed 5
The Federal Perspective 5
DG SAP Intercepts 6
INVESTIGATOR INTRODUCTION 8
ARRIVAL 10
The Room, The Body 10
ANOTHER VICTIM 12
Following the Trail 13
A THIRD BODY 14
A Strange Icon 14
Liber Comics 15
Wong’s Apartment 17
A Chase 18
David Yeung 18
OTHER ROUTES OF INVESTIGATION 19
ALL SIGNS SHOULD LEAD TO PIER 31 20

A Complication 21
Another Complication 22
AFTERMATH 24
SAN REWARDS AND PENALTIES 24
APPENDIX I: STATISTICS 25
Rachel Glenn, Suspicious Special Agent 25
Sam Kwan, Bloodhound and Program Friendly 25
David Yeung, Future Emperor 25
Typical Triad Member & Páxíng de hǔnluàn Cultist 26
“John Morsley” 26
Morsley’s Patterner 26
來自錯誤恆星的野獸 27
The Velvet King 27
APPENDIX II: ARTIFACTS 28
The Jade Statue 28
The Goddess of the Black Fan 28
APPENDIX III: RITUALS 35

Step Through The Angles 35
Caress of the Goddess 35
The Pattern Speaks 35
APPENDIX IV: HANDLER’S TIMELINE 37
APPENDIX V: WAREHOUSE MAP 39
HANDLER’S BRIEFING
Imperial Ambition
爬行的混亂
For men who would rule others, an enemy’s weakness is always something to exploit to its fullest. And to
subdue an enemy without fighting --this is the greatest of skills.
The metaphysical ashes are still warm in the wake of The Network’s self-immolation in 2003. Even now,
sparks jump forth and threaten to kindle another bonfire, scorching any who dare approach. But the lure
of accumulated power and eons-old rumors of deep and abiding connections to plane-kissed
hypergeometric dynamos have always secured the Americas’ place as a center-set jewel in any potential
ruler’s crown.
It’s been two decades, and the jewel seemingly remains unclaimed.
David Yeung is a businessman. For the last few decades, he has worked to amass a significant collection
of contacts in the United States who wish to take advantage of his cozy but “arm’s-length on paper”
relationship with the Chinese Communist Party. As such, he often secures contracts to transport goods
that would otherwise be difficult to move between the countries due to volatile political relations.
David Yeung is a mathematician and occult scientist. Having studied advanced principles of geometry and
specializing in certain applications of hyperbolic 6-space tesellations -- as well as imbibing selected
distillations from a highly-guarded Tibetan plateau -- he has been able to master certain techniques to
increase his reputation -- and wealth -- by moving vast quantities of concentrated fentanyl into East
Coast ports while the DEA focuses on exerting their woefully underfunded resources solely on the
Mexican border.
David Yeung is a criminal. Although he doesn’t count himself among their number, he works closely with
a mainland triad -- the Páxíng de hǔnluàn -- to obtain and secure this fentanyl as well as stolen artifacts
and objects he believes might aid him in his meta-scientific pursuits. David chose to work with them not
just for the potential wealth their contraband might bring him -- but because of their roots in an ancient
cult devoted to the Bloated Woman. This cult was, at one time, incredibly feared. Now, it is scattered and
all-but-forgotten since its purge by China’s republican government in 1918. The hypergeometric
techniques David has shared and revealed have convinced the disparate leaders of the triad that he is a
deific manifestation of their old god. He has not attempted to dissuade them otherwise.
David Yeung is a holy man. Long ago realizing that New York City could be the site of a miles-spanning
11-cell abstract polytope that could literally change the fabric of known existence to accommodate his
consciousness and allow him to directly impress his will on all past, present, and future, he began
undergoing preparations to realize this grand experiment. Soon discovering that there were greater
energies and interests already well-entrenched in the area that were -- for lack of a better term --
squatting on the hypergeometric nodes necessary to move forward, David chose to patiently wait. He
watched as the formidable forces arrayed against him diminished, gnawed their own tails, and became
victims to their own unguided ambitions. He waited and waited as each potential foe knocked themself
off the chessboard, unaware that David was even playing.
His time to move has come. David is ready to set the “first anchor point” in his design. And he is now
confident there is no one left to glean his intentions, much less stop him. Revealing certain additional
abilities to the Páxíng de hǔnluàn, he collected a sizable stateside coterie of loyal gangers to staff his
warehouses and assist with the obfuscation of his steadily-ramping criminal activities. The infighting
amongst his enemies had weakened certain aspects needed -- aspects that would now require radical
fortification.
Through his network of contacts within and without the Páxíng de hǔnluàn, David located objects and
texts he could use to repair and then eventually deploy the first anchor point. At the same time, David
also employed a Cantonese-speaking accountant he had utilized on occasion. This man’s connections
with businesses of a dubious nature placed him beyond reproach as an operator who was always willing
to perform shady tasks without complaint or prying questions. He sent this man -- Francis Ng -- abroad to
obtain a delicate artifact for a vast sum while he himself attended ongoing preparations in New York City.
Once Ng returns with the focus for the grand experiment, David will immediately begin his work in
earnest, gathering his criminal acolytes and performing Rituals to underpin the necessary vibrations for
the tumultuous shift he has in store for the City. Eventually, the jewel will fall into his worthy hands.
That is, unless other hidden players remain on the chessboard.
John Morsley, The Underhex

Rags and bones, stinking detritus, filth and sallow cheeks.
These are the trappings of a former Lord of The Fate. Or at least that’s the rumor amongst the wide-eyed
vagrants who murmur, yell, and cajole at invisible currents in the air next to the hoi polloi waiting for the
next subway train to arrive. Others say he was never more than an overlooked Adept, sneaking giblets of
forbidden knowledge off the plates of his betters.
The Underhex nonetheless speaks through the unseen patterns of the crisscrossing tunnels below The
City. The daily-changing numbers of cigarette butts strewn across the entryway to a particular utility
hatch. The rhythmic sounds of a malfunctioning fluorescent light hanging over a garbage-strewn
alleyway. The overlapping circles made by a sickly and half-lame rat on the grimy floor of a
graffiti-covered public restroom. This is the voice, the message, the will of the Underhex. With eyes to
see, ears to hear -- you might know his resolve and become a part of his pattern yourself.
And to hear His voice beyond The Blue Door -- to be chosen to be His hands and reform the base clay of
the world -- it is a blessing spoken in excited tones by those who have already been touched. Those who
give themselves to his will gain sight upon sight, an echoing phantasmagoric euphoria incomparable to
the pleasant haze imparted by the life-sapping serums typically self-administered into the arms of the
City’s most forgotten.
John Morsley, The Underhex, The Will -- these are some of the many names for the incomprehensible
yet comprehensible patterns that stretch through the world of the City’s deranged, drug-addled, and
homeless population. Whether the man himself exists in a sapient and recognizable form is less clear.
However, whatever John Morsley is -- he’s not pleased regarding the plans of David Yeung.
Handler’s Note: Fundamentally, what Morsley actually is does not matter. Is he a powerful bit of
psychic chaff cast away from the metaphysical conflicts between the last dwindling members of
The Fate? An aspect of Alzis or Agdesh left behind to enact a Will in their physical absence?
Something else entirely unrelated? The important thing to understand is that whatever the
Underhex is, he is expressed and strengthened by pointless and mundane human conditions of
compulsion, madness, and obsession. And he has real power, gaining significant potency as he
ensnares more and more within his fugue-like dreams. Finally, he seems to be very territorial.
Morsley has been watching David Yeung’s preparations for some time. The moment Francis Ng entered
New York City with the statue, his prepared will crystallized in one of his acolytes -- Michelle Lee,
girlfriend to Jerry Wong, a prominent member of Páxíng de hǔnluàn tasked with picking up Francis Ng
from John F. Kennedy International Airport. Michelle begged, pleaded, and wheedled her way into
accompanying Wong on his errand, promising to avoid interfering with or distracting Wong’s “VIP.”
Jerry and Michelle met Ng outside of customs after an excruciatingly long processing time. As they exited
the terminal to make the trek to their parked vehicle, an unkempt and screaming vagrant accosted the
group in a parking garage. Jerry sprung forth to fend off the bizarre man who was violently screaming
about voices, doors, and other nonsense. Ng was tackled to the ground in the commotion, and Michelle
quietly pulled his luggage away from the grappling trio. Deftly, as if guided by some exacting and unseen
hand, Michelle used her thumb to quickly enter the tumbler code on the suitcase, plunged her hand
through tightly-packed clothing, and removed a small loosely-wrapped wooden box. She closed the
suitcase just as quickly, respun the tumbler, and tucked the package away into her purse.
Jerry violently and efficiently gained the upper hand, brutally beating and driving away the addled but
now wholly-cowed vagrant. Helping Ng back to his feet and apologizing for the horrible incident
profusely in rushed Cantonese, the trio moved to quickly trek through the remainder of the parking lot
and continued onward to Crosby Street Hotel.
The Boss is Very Disappointed

Ng soon checked into his room at the Hotel, curtly leaving Jerry and his hysterical woman outside the
lobby while ignoring the further continual stream of contrition from the young and aspiring criminal. He
took a moment to settle in before calling David Yeung as instructed.
“Have you got the package?”
“Yes, and at the agree--”
Suddenly, all the lights flickered in the hotel room. Ng turned, wide-eyed, to see his hallway closet open
from the inside, revealing David’s unnaturally tall and lanky form. “Give it to me.”
A soon-desperate Ng rifled through his suitcases, maddeningly unable to locate this most important and
well-secured object as David grew more and more impatient. Before long, it was clear that Ng’s
employer was consumed in a quiet fury. Picking up a half-finished water bottle from a nearby end table,
David began speaking a distorted version of Cantonese that hinted at perverse dialects long forgotten.
Ng’s last gasping words were of the vagrant at the airport who assaulted him, of Jerry who had defended
him, and of the woman who had so quickly picked up his suitcases and moved them away from the
resulting fray.
Yeung moved away from the slowly distending body, pouring the last bit of water from the bottle onto
Ng’s form and tossing it casually onto the floor next to him. He looked up, locking eyes with a
horror-stricken man across the street.
The Federal Perspective

IRS Investigator Carson Kovac has been scrutinizing Francis Ng, a Vietnamese-American currently under
investigation for suspected money-laundering for various organized crime groups -- most notably the
Bonanno and Lucchese crime families of New York. Ng lived in New Orleans, which is how Kovac became
involved (she is part of the New Orleans IRS investigative division). Kovac’s work has spanned 2 full years,
with nearly 6 months of exclusive investigation. She was very, very close to tying his case to an ongoing
FBI RICO investigation into New York’s five crime families.
Two weeks ago, Ng briefly left the country for Hong Kong. Today, he finally returned to the United States,
flying first into San Francisco and then onward to New York. Kovac met her FBI counterparts in the City,
utilizing an existing and broad criminal warrant to set up surveillance on Ng’s hotel room.
At about 7:15 PM, Ng made a call on his cell phone. The conversation, easily captured in the nondescript
FBI surveillance van parked nearby, began with someone asking Ng if he “got the package.” Before a
response could be noted, the power suddenly died in the van. Only after several minutes could power be
restored, and it was discovered that the cell phone connection was no longer active. Simpson and Turner,
the two FBI agents in the van, could find nothing wrong with the equipment and its generator once back
online.
None of the posted agents around the hotel saw Ng leave his room during the outage, and after 90
minutes of additional waiting Kovac decided to go back to her own hotel room, ordering the FBI agents
to call her if Ng attempted to leave or make another call. Soon after she arrived at her hotel, the agents
indeed contacted her: Ng was dead.
Kovac hurried back to Ng’s room, fuming that the FBI had botched her case. Upon arriving, the sight of
the body sent her reeling: Ng had inflated to between 4 and 5 times his normal size. She stepped into the
hall and refused to re-enter the room. Meanwhile, the FBI contacted the CDC for consultation after an
initial forensics examination.
DG SAP Intercepts
The call never made it past the CDC intake clerk. Preliminary details provided by the FBI field forensics
team, once entered into the CDC consultation request, set off a red flag protocol which prompted a
number of unaffiliated individuals across a dedicated shadow network to cross-reference the information
with a growing database of preternatural references. Blind bureaucratic machinery whirred and spun,
moving documents and generating paperwork in accordance to a new standard operating procedure
with its roots in even older procedural machinery.
Lt. Col. Hector Pedras, a well-respected officer in USAF Operational Intelligence, was activated under the
name PORTER. A veteran agent, PORTER was given the current details of the case with the
understanding that the investigation would be placed on hold until a Delta Green team could be
scrambled and arrive onsite. The FBI field forensics team had already begun quarantine procedures.
PORTER thumbed through selected Agents from a SAP dossier located on a black server at Griffiss
Business and Technology Park in New York, and made ready an operations conference room to receive
them -- as the Agents were apparently already enroute.
Handler’s Note: PORTER is a trim man with short, well-kept hair. He wears his perfectly-pressed
USAF uniform with obvious pride. His darker complexion is offset by his disarming gray eyes, and
he seems a man who rarely finds occasion to smile. PORTER was one of the many Agents happy
to come in from the cold when the Delta Green SAP was reactivated, and he believes that only
concerted, cooperative effort can keep the American people safe from preternatural threats.
During the prior decades, he was only rarely deployed to the field, and instead often worked to
obfuscate and cloak cowboy activity through his formidable official capacity. This is the first time
he’s been assigned as a Handler for a field team.
INVESTIGATOR INTRODUCTION
The Agents are contacted by their direct supervisors, all who seem apprehensive, concerned, or even
spooked as the appropriate case may be. They are unwilling and perhaps unable to reveal much.
Apparently, word has “come down” that the Agents are to put their normal assignments on hold and
jump on an Air Force transport to New York immediately for a “matter of national security.” Agents are
provided one hour to provide a mundane cover to their personal Bonds and make preparations to
depart. A transport (either a military cargo plane or helicopter, depending on distance) will be waiting for
them at any nearby Air Force base or private airfield, through which they are ushered without fuss.
For Program Friendlies, the treatment is much less forgiving. Two USAF Security Forces officers, armed
with M4 carbines, will show up at their place of employment or home, brusquely remove them from the
premises, and provide official paperwork to their employer that they are “indefinitely needed for
questioning in ongoing investigative matters pertaining to the national security of the United States.”
This can and will have far-ranging implications on their personal and professional lives, and the Handler
is encouraged to incorporate this into their next Home Scene, if available.
Once in New York and fully disembarked at Griffiss International Airport, Agents will be searched for
electronic devices. All smartphones, pocket computers, and -- really anything with a capacitor or
microchip -- ends up in several sealed faraday bags. Security Forces will then escort the Agents via an
armored HumVee to a single-story brick building on the other side of the sprawling campus where it
appears construction is planned but has yet to begin. There, they will be led through to an elevator and
into a bustling underground facility full of cubicles and intelligence personnel. These uniformed
individuals, working side-by-side with what appear to be civilian contractors in plain clothes, will take
little notice as the Agents pass through into a small conference room. A whiteboard covers one wall, and
a projector screen sits at the front of the room. There are small student desks arranged in a grid facing
the screen. Military personnel do not enter the room, but two guards will remain posted outside. Once
all the Agents have arrived, PORTER will enter.
“Agents. I’m PORTER. You are now being read into Operation MOLTEN CARRIER.” He nods curtly. “Take a
quick seat; you have transport waiting, so we need to move through this briefing rapidly.”
“Five hours ago, a civilian national was found dead in his room at the Crosby Street Hotel. The man’s
name is Francis Ng -- that’s spelled November-Golf -- and although I don’t have access to the case files,
he was under investigation by the FBI and the IRS for money laundering as part of a much broader RICO
probe. He was under warranted surveillance tonight, which is how his body was discovered. Apparently
he was talking on his cell around 7 PM, there was an equipment malfunction with the surveillance gear,
and once it came back up there wasn’t another peep from Ng. The FBI field team checked on their target
after 90 minutes or so, and then discovered he was dead. No individuals were seen coming or going from
Ng’s room during the interim period.
“I do have preliminary details from the scene.” PORTER will produce a printed FBI photo of the corpse.
“This is an extreme level of bloating for a man positively identified as Francis Ng, seen entering the hotel
only a few hours prior by investigators. The phenomena you are looking at has been red-flagged by the
Special Access Program.
“I have CDC credentials for all of you. The FBI is currently in a holding pattern, having completed basic
quarantine protocol on the hotel floor and removing all hotel denizens under the guise of an unlikely
bomb threat. The only other individuals on Ng’s floor were planted FBI and the lead IRS investigator who
are now also within the quarantine zone until the CDC --that is, you -- release them. We’ll provide you a
van with the proper registration, as well as bio-haz protection and a basic testing station.
“Mission is basically the same as always. One: evaluate the presence of preternatural activity and either
verify or dismiss the red flag. Two: if such activity is found, remove all evidence and proceed to
investigate. Three: neutralize and then remove the source of the activity. And four: maintain a
conventional cover throughout the Opera.”
“Local press is not on the ground. Your van is unmarked, and the media doesn’t yet know about the bio
quarantine. Right now, it’s just another phony bomb threat being filmed on iPhones by every
nightcrawler with a YouTube channel. Here is the number you can contact me at if and when you require
assistance, but my reach will be limited once you’re in the field. You’ll be on your own for the most part
and if your identities are compromised we do not have a scramble protocol in place -- so be cautious.”
PORTER will stick around to entertain brief questions, but he doesn’t know anything except that an
anomalous cadaver red-flagged The Program’s system and the Agents, including himself, were
immediately activated.
ARRIVAL
The area around the Crosby Street Hotel has been cordoned off by the FBI, and local police are beyond
the portable bollard barrier diverting small groups of gawkers. There are a few folks waving their phone
cameras around the scene, but they appear bored. The Agents’ van is allowed through the cordon, and
cameras soon lazily swivel in their direction.
The van contains a decent mobile lab and plenty of forensic and biohazard protective gear. The Agents
would be wise to attempt to move any large equipment or protective suits as cautiously as possible in
order to avoid arousing suspicion. If the Agents are careless, LUCK will determine whether any onlookers
notice and identify the equipment being moved into the hotel. The press could easily become this
Operation’s greatest adversary if suspicions of a biological outbreak are raised by citizen journalists.
FBI agents on the ground have been told to expect the” CDC team,” and they will attempt to usher the
Agents through the hotel lobby and onto floor 12 which has been set up to house a small forensics
staging area. There, FBI Special Agent Rachel Glenn will fill them in on the situation:
● The 14th floor has been cordoned and quarantined. FBI agents Yates, Turner, Simpson, and Hale,
as well as IRS investigator Carson Kovacs, are on the floor in room 1403. They have shown no
signs of ill-health since interacting with Ng’s body.
● Ng’s body is in room 1409, and only very basic forensics work has been completed. Once
contagion was raised as a possibility, the CDC was immediately called for field consultation as per
SOP.
● Samples have been left at the crime scene.
● The room has not been touched and no articles have been removed or cataloged.
The Room, The Body

● Initial tests will indicate that there are no biological or chemical agents present in the room.
SEARCH is difficult while wearing hazmat gear (-20% for most perceptual or tactile skills as
appropriate).
● The cadaver is pinned between two twin beds. It is enormous, much larger than the photo
provided by PORTER indicated. Taking fluid from the corpse is possible with equipment brought
from the van, and it appears clear with a similar viscosity to water. If moved, an empty Evian
water bottle can be found under the bloated, sloshing corpse.
● There are two suitcases in the room. Both have eight digit push-button security combination
locks attached which have been opened, allowing easy perusal of the containers’ contents. One
contains men’s clothing and a receipt written in English from the Jade Auction House in Hong
Kong for HK$15000 for a single “figure.” The farthest, on the other bed, is empty but for a hidden
slip of paper written in Cantonese (the real receipt, if translated, shows the figure was sold for
HK$1000000).
● There is a cell phone on the nightstand near the body. There are three recent calls in the sent
list, and no received calls -- the rest of the call history has either been recently wiped from the
phone, or it is relatively new. Two calls were from four days ago, and one was from tonight. The
oldest from four days ago is an international long distance call to a California number -- the other
two are labeled as “Unknown” and lack additional apparent metadata.
○ The long distance call to California was to American Airlines. Ng arrived in San Francisco
on Cathay Pacific, but flew American to New York. The call was made in the evening --
Hong Kong time -- on the same day as noted on the discovered Jade Auction House
receipts.
○ The cell phone is serviced through AT&T, and had been disconnected at 7:30 PM. It is
registered to Barbara Hendrick.
○ Finally, for those skilled Agents in COMPUTER SCIENCE with the proper “tools of the
trade,” an additional digitized and encrypted copy of the real receipt can be found
hidden in the phone’s directory structure. It is digitally disguised as a redundant system
file.
● A couple hours of testing in the floor 12 mobile lab yields the information that the air is “clean”
(for New York), and that the fluid from Ng’s body is mineral water.
● An Agent who looks through the room and examines the interior of the hallway closet will find
something very curious behind a set of empty coathangers -- someone has used black charcoal
or chalk to scribble a picture of a large door, complete with a round handle, on the interior
drywall. The lines seem bold, well-practiced, and reminiscent of Japanese or Chinese calligraphy.
SEARCH here could reveal weighty shoe imprints in the carpet -- US size 14 (EUR 48.5). Analysis
reveals them to be custom-made A. Testoni flats.
● An autopsy can be performed in the room with the equipment from the Agents’ van.
Asphyxiation is the clear cause of death. During the hours of autopsy, the fluid will evaporate at
an incredible pace and all “sealed specimens” of the fluid will soon be found empty. The body
will ooze water from its pores, but not enough water will soak into the carpet to account for size
loss. Ng’s cadaver will remain rather distended, with skin stretched and loose, but seemingly not
nearly enough for the sizable bloating noted when first entering Room 1409. These Unnatural
elements will pose SAN 1/1D6 for a scientist or forensic pathologist and SAN 0/1D4 for the
layman.
If Kovac is approached and interviewed, she will recount the events of the evening. She is somewhat
shaken by what happened to Ng, but at this point is more focused on her ruined investigation. She
openly blames the whole situation on the “ineptitude” of the FBI contingent who have “ruined years of
work because of their shoddy IT.” The Agents can also confirm with Kovac that the phone call on Ng’s cell
phone from tonight was the one being surveilled when power was lost in the FBI van. Again, the cell
phone is already disconnected from AT&T service (GSM cloning is the culprit here - CRIMINOLOGY or
ELECTRONICS and examination of the SIM card can reveal this as a likely explanation to a clever Agent).
The simple fact that the phone’s carrier service was disconnected or canceled near the exact time of Ng’s
death should not be understated by the Handler.
The quarantined FBI agents will have little to add, although they will be quite defensive if the Agents cast
any aspersions on their competence.
None of the agents in quarantine seem to have any lasting ill effects according to preliminary
examination and vitals testing. If they deem it appropriate, the Agents can direct FBI field forensics to
close quarantine, release all locked-down individuals from Room 1403, and remove Ng’s body to the
local medical examiner’s office. If all of this is done as discreetly and as mundanely as possible, locals will
disperse and the “bomb threat” will be all but forgotten come morning.
ANOTHER VICTIM
The following morning, one of the Agents is contacted by FBI Special Agent Rachel Glenn with the news
that another hyper-hydrated body had been identified. This time, it is the corpse of restaurateur Murray
Swartz, who has left behind a daughter, an ex-wife, and a successful restaurant business. He lived in the
apartment building across from Crosby Street Hotel, room 1435. The body was already moved to the
Medical Examiner’s office as the corpse’s discovery was made by local PD (who had no information or
details about Ng’s death nearby).
Special Agent Glenn says she was lucky to make the connection, as the body currently shows no signs of
water retention and distension, and she just happened to look deeper into nearby police reports from
the same night for anything suspicious the federal surveillance team might have missed. Apparently,
local PD was called to the apartment at the same time the Agents were tidying up their Crosby Street
Hotel work, and the communications compartmentalization left this relevant discovery unnoticed until
this morning. (Handler’s Note: nothing of further relevance is discovered if the Agents perform an
autopsy on the Swartz cadaver).
Special Agent Glenn will say that the intake examiner noted that Swartz died of “hyper-hydration of the
neck,” and cataloged fingermarks that suggest he was violently grabbed there. She will also mention that
Swartz’s apartment is on the same floor as Ng’s hotel room.
Agent Glenn is extremely worried that the quarantine closure was premature and immediately called the
“CDC” Agent the moment she ran across the recent police report -- in fact, it is still in front of her right
now. She is specifically requesting that the Agents meet her at Swartz’s apartment to test and determine
if the building needs to be evacuated. She would prefer to avoid starting a panic, but if the Agent even
hints that she should cordon off the building, she will immediately contact her superior and the FBI will
soon descend upon the scene. This time, they will not be so hands-off and may interfere greatly with the
Agents’ analysis of the situation. LAWor BUREAUCRACY experience may inform a cautious Agent’s
approach to avoid such a situation.
The apartment building is a converted set of old brownstones, and the entrance is attended to by a stout
and cheery doorman. Police tape seals off the apartment, so the Agents can either break in or retrieve
the superintendent if they have persuaded Special Agent Rachel Glenn to stand by. The apartment itself
only shows that Murray Swartz was a successful restaurant owner and a bit lonely. However, clever
Agents will notice that the street-facing window peers directly into Ng’s room across the way.
Swartz’s small bedroom closet is in curious disarray. Clothing and coathangers have been knocked off
their railings and lie crumpled on the carpeted floor. A curious Agent or a permissive SEARCH test will
reveal another black-outlined doorway scribbled on the back of the closet wall. A critical success or a
FORENSICS expert may note another partial shoe print, indicating a heavyset individual with large men’s
footwear.
If the Agents do not think of it themselves, CRIMINOLOGY or law enforcement experience may guide
them to ask around the building for recent indications of anything suspicious or persons of potential
interest. If questioned appropriately, the building’s doorman (Clarke Gilfoyle) or a neighbor will let the
Agents know that there was a strange vehicle parked across the street from about 7 PM to 730 PM every
night for the last couple of weeks. It always seemed to be in time to get the parking space and always
towed a hotdog cart. The doorman (or a busybody neighbor) is very nosy, and snapped a photo of the
licensing number on the cart despite not being at a good angle to see the plates of the vehicle itself.
Following the Trail

The hotdog vendor’s name is Bill Morrison.His usual spot, according to his city permit, is in Battery Park.
Observing him here reveals only normal activity, although before 7 PM he puts away his equipment,
checks his watch, and then starts putting the condiments back out.
If questioned, he can be intimidated in a variety of ways to reveal that two weeks ago a voice inside his
cart instructed him to go to “the blue door at 96th and East 5th streets.” Once there, another voice
behind the door told him to go to Crosby Street Hotel every day at 7 PM and count all the bricks in the
front of the building. He did just that, the last day being yesterday. He can’t explain why he did it, only
that he felt compelled to. He might reveal that he saw a thin Asian man in his early 30s leave the building
around 7:25 PM, get into a red Lexus, and drive away last night.
Going to 96th and East 5th reveals no blue door anywhere there or nearby. Quite soon, an Agent is again
contacted by FBI Special Agent Glenn -- another body has turned up at the Medical Examiner’s office.
Special Agent Glenn sternly requests the Agents’ presence there, where she will be waiting. No amount
of persuasion will now dissuade her from involving herself deeply in any ongoing investigation. Again,
she wants the Agents’ opinion on potential contagion scenarios -- otherwise, she will want to run the
investigation through her office only, now suspecting some sort of biological weapon used to commit a
series of homicides. If Agents have demonstrated their acumen and willingness to collaborate with
Special Agent Glenn, it will be far easier to maintain a line to the “official” investigation going forward
and maintain some level of control over the ongoing phenomena.
A THIRD BODY
The corpse is that of a woman in her early 20s, apparently of Asian descent. Despite being fished out of
the East River, the massive amount of bodily edematization could not be accounted for upon intake. Now
thoroughly “deflated,” a further examination of the body will reveal a tattoo under her left armpit. Her
prior expanded appearance made this discovery impossible during preliminary examinations by the
attending Assistant Medical Examiner. Two stylized dragons in a yin-yang configuration devouring one
another are depicted in vibrant red and yellow inks. Prints can also be taken from the corpse’s withered
fingertips.
The woman can be identified as Michelle Lee, age 21. She has a juvenile record that can be quickly
unsealed by a judge’s order after a call to PORTER or if the team is amicably working with Agent Glenn.
The records vaguely outline two minor offenses: marijuana possession and battery (gang related). Her
last known address appears to be with her mother in New York’s Chinatown. Her phone number goes to
voicemail.
A shabby apartment perched above a consignment vinyl record shop houses Michelle Lee’s mother. She
will openly weep upon learning about the death of her daughter, but she will eventually reveal that she
suspected something like this would happen. Michelle only rarely stayed with her mother, living mostly
with her boyfriend and hanging out with “those criminals.” She was a troubled young woman, having
undergone a drastic personality shift after turning 16. Suddenly the studious, mathematically brilliant,
and ambitious young woman started hearing voices. She stopped attending school, became sometimes
violently belligerent, and was eventually diagnosed with clinical schizophrenia. Michelle’s mother
laments that getting her daughter to take her medication consistently has been impossible. She has
gotten into “god knows what” and runs around with “scum.” But she loves her daughter, and never
closed her door to her when she showed up -- usually in desperate states.
Jerry Wong is the boyfriend, and Michelle’s mother will point the Agents toward a photograph of him in
her daughter’s nearly-untouched room. Although there are others in the photograph, Jerry Wong is the
only person among the many other individuals of Asian descent whom she can identify. There is a
disturbingly tall, thin Asian man who -- again -- she cannot identify. She does, however, have Jerry
Wong’s phone number (which can soon lead to his address for a quick-witted Agent). Calling the number
at this time sends the Agent to voicemail.
A Strange Icon
The Agents can:
● Contact PORTER for assistance in identifying the tattoo image (they will soon be referred to
nearby Friendly Sam Kwan);
● Fully hand over the discovery to the FBI for analysis through Special Agent Glenn, who will insist
on this regardless;
● Or the Agents can hit the Internet and/or public library and try their luck. This is by far the most
difficult, but valiant or clever approaches should always be rewarded by the Handler, even if only
with another partial clue.
Handler’s Note: If the FBI is solely relied upon, the investigation will move further out of the
control of Delta Green, and the Agents will find that they are being cut out of the loop except to
consult on “contagion-related matters.” Much of this hinges on Special Agent Glenn’s perception
of the Agents. If they have presented as secretive, suspicious, and/or incompetent, she will do
everything she can to dismiss them and may even contact the CDC to close any oustanding
consultation requisitions and request in turn that the Agents be recalled from the field -- as they
are dangerously close to “impeding the investigation.” This is, of course, a call that will be met
with confusion -- the CDC has no records of this joint operation -- and will serve to further
increase the skepticism and misgivings of Special Agent Glenn. She will soon make it her mission
to uncover the Agents’ identities and potentially see them face prosecution. LAW,
BUREAUCRACY, COMPUTER SCIENCE, and PERSUADE and other appropriate tests will all come
into play to divert and subvert Special Agent Glenn if she starts down this path.
The image is a triad-related symbol and can be further identified by Sam Kwan, an NYPD detective
specializing in Chinese and Asian-Pacific organized crime and a Delta Green Friendly of many years.
Kwan is a powerfully-built Korean-American with a firm handshake and an engaging personality. He is

eager to help the Agents but cannot identify any of the people in Michelle Lee’s photograph. Again, he
does recognize her tattoo as belonging to a fairly new triad or gang from the Chinese mainland that has
clear offshoots appearing on the West Coast and in New York City.
Kwan will tell the Agents that current volatility in the Middle East has forced portions of the opiate trade
to focus on Asian market expansion. New and old triads alike have already enriched themselves greatly
with this new source of raw material while operating the same black market networks that have existed
for decades, even centuries.
This has inevitably expanded into Kwan’s city as newer and hyper-concentrated contraband (fentanyl) is
smuggled in through unfamiliar but likely Chinese mainland channels aided by the newer stateside
syndicate. Unfortunately, Kwan and the NYPD have yet to make a dent in these activities. Their import
method is a mystery, and this criminal group seems technologically savvy and leaves very few clues.
Other than the tattoo, Kwan knows little about them and the Agents’ photograph could be a great lead
for his case (he’ll ask to make a copy).
He knows the symbol has some occult significance or roots, and he can suggest the help of an occult
collector in New York working at a comic and toy shop called “Liber Comics” at 99th and Lexington.
“Don’t be fooled by the kitschy stuff in the windows -- Leonard Beeks deals in some fairly genuine
artifacts -- stuff that probably should belong in a museum, frankly. He should be able to shed some light,
if anyone can. Just go in easy -- Beeks will get nervous around a gaggle of suits just like anyone else.”
Liber Comics
The small store has a manufactured old-fashioned look from the outside, with the name of the storefront
stenciled on a large window. Plush toys (a Santa Cthulhu, for example), dreamcatchers woven into
pentagrams, crystals, small statues of tentacled creatures, and shadowy things from the Black Lagoon
abound. Comics line many shelves, as do larger graphic novels and other books. Japanese literature and
films are also here for purchase, as well as music by bands like “The Ulthar Cats,” “MiskaSonic,” “Zann
Variations,” and “Sinful Seasons.” Roleplaying games and new age materials are side-by-side, including
many spiritual, magical, and pseudo-scientific publications.
The clerk is overweight, bespectacled, and unkempt. He has the appearance of a stereotypical geek,
almost to an exaggerated degree. As long as the Agents don’t scream “trouble,” he is happy to summon
the store’s manager, Leonard Beeks, and watch the front while Leonard takes them into the back office.
Beeks is a doughy, balding man dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks. Again, as long as the Agents
don’t scare him off, he’s more than happy to look at the tattoo and give his opinion. It may be best to
approach Beeks as potential customers and occult enthusiasts rather than as law enforcement. If they
tell Leonard Beeks that Kwan sent them, he might tighten up a bit (he knows who Kwan is and social
tests may suffer a -20% detriment as he subsequently guards his words).
Beeks will place a photograph or drawing of the tattoo on an elaborate miniature painting desk in the
back office, guiding the attending Agents through a beaded curtain and past more shelves containing
memorabilia of a more fetishistic nature. Videos like “The Necro Sutra,” and “The Mounds of Tindalos”
abound, as well as be-tentacled leather masks and other suggestive toys.
He’ll peer at the tattoo photograph through a series of articulated magnifying lenses, muttering that his
vision is awful. He will gently but firmly suggest the Agents perhaps purchase some items while he
analyzes the image. Or he can be simply bribed.
He’ll eventually point out that it’s not just one set of dragons eating one another, but dragons within
dragons within dragons. He asserts that the symbol is called “the crawling chaos.” It’s associated with a
cult all but wiped out on the Chinese mainland but rumored to still persist in Hong Kong and abroad,
where adherents were forced to flee and commit to a lengthy exile. (Handler’s Note: if the Agents are
perceived as “cut from the same cloth” and trustworthy, Beeks may offer up that he’s been seeing this
symbol more and more lately, leading more easily to the following set of clues).
If more goods are purchased and Michelle Lee’s picture is shown to him, he will positively recognize the
tall Asian from the photograph as David Yeung, another occult enthusiast whom he has coincidentally
also spoken to about “the crawling chaos” a handful of months ago. Yeung was particularly interested in
the Bloated Woman collection, a set of statues having a supposed connection to the defunct cult. Yeung
wished to procure such a statue through Beeks. He also asked Beeks where he could get two silver
sickles made (he is often approached for this type of advice for “magickal” rituals, including requests for
pure brass containers and bronze discs, golden talismans, rings, and the like). Finally, Yeung was also
looking for a Chinese text called The Goddess of the Black Fan.
For the sickles, Beeks sent Yeung to Moretta Gold and Silver in Brooklyn. For the text, he told him the
only copy he knew of was stored at the Metropolitan Library in the Rare Book Division. As for the statue,
Beeks let Yeung know that ceramic knock-offs can be found every now and again (he knows of one such
replica in San Francisco), but any original statues would be made of jade and can probably only be found
somewhere in China if one still exists.
Its price, Beeks says, could go for at least $1 million to the right collector, but since about 2003 he can’t
think of a single rumor of backroom auctions or trades even hinting at such a high-priced deal. Prior to
2003, it was almost unreal how many black market exchanges for high-priced occultic items took place.
If asked, Beeks lets the Agents know that a “Barbara Hendrick” owns the shop, not he, as well as most of
the real estate on the block. “Old money,” he’ll say. “I’m not a material guy, so I just rent.”
Handler’s Note: The store is owned by Barbara Hendrick and the site of a Deep One cult. It has
tunnels below the building that date back to the 1800s. Hopefully, the Agents will not feel a need
to pry. The cult is very dangerous and very clever, and has remained hidden for hundreds of years
behind a veneer of folksy normalcy. It currently consists of Barb Hendrick, Pete Hendrick, Charley
the clerk, Duk Trinh, Mai Trinh, and Leonard Beeks. They commune with a Deep One every few
months in a below-ground chamber. They will not hesitate to lure Agents down there to their
deaths if they feel like they are getting too nosy. They provide support and succor to other occult
groups in the city, exchanging technical and metaphysical acumen for symbols and items of
interest. An adventure for another time, perhaps.
Wong’s Apartment
Ringing the buzzer at Wong’s building yields no answer from his address, but other residents may
respond if the Agents are lucky. His apartment is on the third floor if the Agents find an easy way into the
main building.
Wong’s front door is also locked. Inside, part of Jerry Wong can be found in an open living room/dining
room area. From all appearances, it looks like he’s “fallen” through the floor, having only his torso, arms,
and head visible. However, there is no hole. Upon close inspection, it appears that Wong has “merged”
with the floorboards and subfloor of the apartment (1/1D4 SAN). If the Agents travel to the floor below
and enter a locked utility closet, his lower half is indeed dangling from the ceiling (1/1D6 SAN -- up to a
total of 6 lost when combined with the prior roll).
A later autopsy reveals Jerry Wong died of heart failure. The molecules of his body merged with those of
the floor, occurring to his clothing and the cell phone in his pants pocket as well. This physical
impossibility has incredible implications, none of them easy on the mind (a further 1/1D4 SAN or 1/1D8
SAN for an Agent with a scientific expertise).
Besides the obvious and unnatural condition of Wong’s corpse, Agents may also notice that the
apartment has an “art” room -- two easels, a drafting table, and a copious supply of expensive pastel and
paint sets abound. Canvases, sketch pads, and even the surfaces of the walls are all decorated with a
similar theme -- although the style ranges from colorful to bland, mathematical to elaborate. Repeated
but different sequences of eight numbers cover these materials. The impression is staggering when first
entering the room. There is no illuminating explanation for the state of the room, nor any indications as
to who might have created the bewildering display.
95049385
Going about addressing Wong’s inexplicable condition before he can be discovered by local authorities
or a building superintendent is up to the Agents. But it is likely that during the extraction of the corpse
that they will spot a curiously tall, thin Asian man following and/or watching them, half-in/half-out of a
red Lexus coupe.
A Chase
Attempting to approach the man results in him immediately entering his vehicle and speeding away.
Following him in a car is difficult through crowded New York City streets and narrow alleys, especially
with their quarry’s likely headstart. The plate can at the very least be memorized and later researched. If
the Agents are very good and lucky drivers, they may catch up to the Lexus as it finally emerges from a
narrow alley and is violently slammed into by another civilian car.
The very tall man will limp out of his vehicle, still one step ahead of the Agents, into another nearby
alley. Vaulting over a fence at the end of the narrow passage, he will continue running toward a clear
dead end with a board-covered door leading into a dilapidated building on the left. He will spin around
to confront the Agents.
The Agents have a moment to notice that a dark shape is swirling overhead (ALERTNESS), moments
before it darts downward to rend the unwary. A winged creature, somewhere between reptile and
insect, makes a guttural hooting call as it glides with soundless wings. It will attack the Agents, allowing
the Asian man to likely flee unmolested (1/1D6 SAN).
The man can still be followed, but his footprints will wend through the darkened building until stopping
curiously at a wall with a hastily-drawn pattern of chalk lines in the clear shape of a doorway.
Dispatched or not, the unexplainable and impossible creature will soon collapse and dissolve into an
unidentifiable mass of pulsing goo. There will be no evidence of the man or the beast after a mere few
frenetic minutes. Only the recovered registration slip for David Yeung in the Lexus could possibly help the
Agents quickly pick up the trail.
David Yeung
Yeung’s townhouse is in Chinatown but in a much more affluent area than Michelle Lee’s mother. No one
appears to be home, although the disarray of the domicile appears to indicate that someone recently
departed in a hurry. There are missing but unidentifiable items from tables and desks indicated by stark
outlines in settled dust. On the wall in the bedroom is another doorway drawn with bold chalk linework.
However, these lines have been smeared and recently drawn over in pen or marker. It appears this
peculiar artwork has been applied and reapplied many, many times over.
OTHER ROUTES OF INVESTIGATION
● Agents may compare the voice the FBI recorded during the Crosby Street Hotel surveillance to
the voicemail messages of any of the victims: no clear match.
● Moretta’s Gold and Silver: the proprietor is happy to assist a law enforcement investigation and
will identify Yeung as a past client. He will detail the sickles, both identical and two-and-a-half
feet long -- and finely sharpened. They were picked up two weeks ago, ahead of Yeung’s
deadline by two days.
● The Metropolitan Library regrets to inform the Agents that The Goddess of the Black Fan was
stolen two months ago. No other copies are known and assuredly no copies in English exist.
Neither the Curator nor ranking assistants have further information on the contents of the dense
scroll of surrealist poetry.
● The owner of Yeung’s townhouse is a shell company called Number 1 Eastern Investments.
ACCOUNTING or BUREAUCRACY can help track this information down clearly. The company
owns several others, and another related shell called Number 1 Hong Kong Imports has four
warehouses near the docks on the East River, at piers 12 and 31. The latter warehouse is
remarkably close to where Michelle Lee’s body was recovered.
● If Barbara Hendrick is researched and contacted, she will ask to meet the Agents at a coffee shop
she owns on the same block as Liber Comics. A bit homespun, but obviously well-off, she will let
the Agents know her phone was reported stolen as soon as she noticed it missing (there is a
police report from several months ago). She doesn’t know anything about cloned phones and
feigns ignorance, saying it was purchased for her by her son, who is a tech geek and wanted her
to be “secure.” This is a lie -- the phone was cloned specifically to point anyone too nosy toward
Barbara so that they could be diverted and/or tracked by the cooperating cults as potential
threats. Barbara is extremely personable and it’s nearly impossible to break through her façade
of harmlessness. There are many such cloned phones amongst all members of the Deep One cult
and its allies in the Páxíng de hǔnluàn which were deactivated all at once and (perhaps mostly)
disposed of. It is up to the Handler to create more depth around the cults’ relationship as
perhaps a red herring side adventure or later seed for a new campaign.
ALL SIGNS SHOULD LEAD TO PIER 31
Continued prying into Yeung’s background should surely point to Number 1 Hong Kong Imports and
clever approaches should be plainly rewarded with this essential clue. If needed, Kwan can contact the
Agents and share that he has cross-referenced a few of the persons from the provided photograph to
several dock workers with expired work visas -- and he’d like to give the Agents first crack, though he is
also happy to assist in any capacity. Kwan is a capable tactician and marksman with a distinct military
background and could serve as muscle in the next scene -- or as a replacement Agent.
The forty-foot-high oblong warehouse is perched directly on the waterfront behind a set of clustered
industrial buildings. Crates are piled up nearby, but the dockyard between the buildings and the
warehouse is clear of obstructions and cover. A pier out to the river lies beyond the warehouse and off to
the left. Foghorn blasts reverberate across the misty waters.
Agents may choose a circuitous route with a focus on reconnaissance rather than forcing down the
massive sliding warehouse doors. If so, they will discover a homeless man in the shadows at the rear of
one of the buildings. If investigated, it becomes apparent that the man is a city sewage worker. He is
scribbling on a pad of paper. The man, John Grimes, was told to visit and revisit this location a week ago
to count foghorn blasts. The voice that told him to do this was behind a blue door at 96th and East 5th
Streets. So far, he has counted 203. He will also casually mention that he has seen people gathering at
the Pier 31 warehouse since about an hour before the Agents’ arrival. All of them, about a dozen,
“looked Chinese,” including a very tall and thin man that seemed to be “someone important.” He doesn’t
know what they are doing, but he assures the Agents meaningfully that they are doing “something” in
the warehouse without providing further explanation. Another foghorn suddenly blasts across the
waves, and he marks a hash on the pad of paper.
A thin strip of windows lines the graded corrugated roof of the warehouse, set back from the edge of the
roof so that an athletic Agent capable of vaulting and climbing from nearby stacked crates and the thick
steel gutters on the outside of the building might peer through them. There is a locked fire escape on the
other side of the building that might offer the same vantage point, though unlocking and dislodging the
ladder from below could be quite noisy. Enterprising Agents will first need to reach the descending
ladder mechanism, which is twelve feet above the asphalt. Again, large crates and a massive industrial
dumpster are nearby. If somehow moved, they could clamorously provide the necessary height
adjustment to reach the ladder.
Peering inside the darkened warehouse from above, the Agents will perceive about a dozen people in
flickering candle light. Activity is certainly occurring in an open area in the middle of the warehouse.
However, multiple stacked crates block direct line-of-sight. The enormous sliding doors at either end of
the warehouse, as well as a catwalk opposite leading to a fire escape, are visible as well. There is an
operable crane running along a track near the roof, allowing it to pick up any crate in the building.
There is a well-armed lookout posted at each door. It is conceivable that they could be dispatched
silently if the Agents desire a direct confrontation, but if this fails, the individuals inside will be alerted
and a dangerous firefight will ensue. As a Ritual has already begun in the center of the warehouse, a core
group of men will stay behind to attempt to complete their strange task as others turn their submachine
guns on the interlopers.
The windows can be dislodged and opened from the outside, allowing Agents to squeeze through and
step on the ceiling’s swaying catwalks and tension lines. Nearby crates can be quietly descended or used
as stepping stones for a better vantage point of the goings-on in the center of the large structure.
Regardless of their movement, the Agents will clearly hear call-and-answer style chanting in
unintelligible Chinese.
Once positioned closely, the Agents will see that in the middle of the warehouse is a woman in dirty,
tattered clothes sitting upright. Containers are arranged in a semi-circle to enclose a crate-made dais
where she is seated. She seems drugged -- or at least, the Agents will hope that is the case. The top of
her skull has been sheared off cleanly, revealing a red pulpy mess. Blood is caked in her long, black hair,
splattered on her shoulders -- but there seems to be much less than one would expect from such a
grievous wound.
Four men in anachronistic black ceremonial robes are on the makeshift dais. One holds a jade statue
aloft, and beside him another man holds a scroll. A very tall Asian man whom the Agents will recognize
as Yeung is holding two bloody sickles and standing beside a fourth robed man. They are all chanting in
some twisted and incomprehensible dialect of Cantonese. Six additional Asian-featured men in casual
clothes stand in front of the dais, answering the chants in turn with their own unique but equally
unintelligible responses.
The Agents should be manifestly outnumbered.
A Complication
There is a winged creature in the rafters that has yet to notice the Agents. ALERTNESS can reveal this if
an Agent specifically asks for a test or is instead currently equipped with thermal imaging gear (a massive
and bizarre “cold spot” is recorded). Regardless, at the moment the Handler decides is best, the entity
will suddenly shift and snort at the air, dramatically bellowing at the Agents as it finally registers their
presence. This is a much more adept and intimidating version of the previous creature possibly
encountered (1/1D6 SAN).
The bristling terror unfurls and speeds horrifically toward the Agents’ positions on either the unstable
and swaying catwalks, halfway-down a precarious stack of shipping containers, or hidden behind a pile of
crates on the warehouse floor. It pushes against unseen obstacles in an impossible predatory zigzag as it
trails whipping flesh tendrils behind its bulbous and unwieldy form. The Handler is encouraged to allow
the lunatic and alien hunter to swipe and rake across the Agents as all hell breaks loose and a chaotic
scene unfolds uncontrollably.
Handler’s Note It is recommended to roll once for the groups of actors per round -- Morsley’s
encroachers and the Páxíng de hǔnluàn -- and roll separately for David Yeung, the Velvet King,
and the 來自錯誤恆星的野獸 / Láizì cuòwù héngxīng de yěshòu to determine their actions and
the eventual possessor(s) of the statue. The Handler is encouraged to use the gouts of dripping
photoplasm from the creatures’ battle above as a battlefield danger, sizzling and melting cultists
and containers as it dribbles down haphazardly during the helter-skelter.
At the appropriate moment, the Handler should introduce this scene’s deus ex machina: another
creature flies out of the darkness of the warehouse rafters and intercepts the baying insectoid beast
before it can completely dismember and scatter the Agents. This one is oily-black, with no defining
features. It is dishearteningly smaller in size but somehow no less strange and monstrous (0/1D6 SAN).
At nearly the same time, a group of men and women of multiple ethnicities (disheveled and in ragged
clothing) will flood into the warehouse, firing pistols of various makes at the chanters and the ongoing
Ritual. Yeung will dive for cover while the other three continue to chant. The remaining six triad
members will turn and fire back, yelling fanatically and taking cover wherever possible.
The pace must be frenetic, the gunfight participants mostly unknown, and the two apocalyptic creatures
horrifyingly battle it out up above the bullet-riddled fray as gouts of steaming, ultraviolet fluid rains
down. When the Handler best determines it should occur, the smaller black beast will finally prevail and
dart toward the statue -- likely still in David’s clutches unless liberated by an Agent. The scroll is the
Goddess of the Black Fan, also targeted by the creature regardless of who or what might be in
possession.
Another Complication
There is a man in a ruddy, outsized suit outside the warehouse holding his arms wide, his eyes closed
tightly in concentration. Coincidentally, a tugboat captain has relapsed into a long-conquered alcoholism,
dangerously veered off-course, and will soon slam into the warehouse and pier. The vessel is rather large,
and the grounding will assuredly destroy the entire building -- but only once the statue and scroll are in
the possession of any of the interfering forces, including the Agents. Escaping the warehouse as it
undergoes a rocking and brutal cacophony as a beaching maritime craft explodes through its walls and
foundations will be extremely difficult for any Agents caught in the collapsing fray. Agents poised to
benefit from any prior warning (ALERTNESS) should have ample chance to remove themselves from the
chaos before the warehouse is plowed over and they are likely buried or killed.
As David’s Ritual has already begun and is now careening out of his control, whoever is in possession of
the statue post-pier destruction will encounter the Bloated Woman very shortly. This is certain death for
the Agents if they are the ones who hold it. If the rival gang succeeds in taking possession of the artifacts
(Morsley’s ragtag crew), they will immediately go to ground with the goods and disappear from any
conventional means of tracking, leaving the Agents with many questions if they are still breathing.
If the Agents have succeeded in recovering the statue, it is suggested that the man causing the pier
accident, calling himself John Morsley, impossibly appears before the Agents as they begin collecting
themselves and taking inventory. Looming above them is a massive and precariously leaning tugboat as
they dust themselves off. Sirens sound in the distance.
The man will politely ask them for the statue if they have it. In all appearances, he is a derelict. He reeks
of stale urine, filth, and body odor, and his bare feet are caked with mud as he stands atop the piles of
metal shards and glass that used to be a building. His words and demeanor, however, are startlingly
erudite.
He tells them that the statue they carry is used in calling The Bloated Woman, something far worse than
the “little winged servants” the Agents have encountered. He’ll say that Yeung and his cultists “opened
the line,” and it will undoubtedly appear on the streets of New York in the presence of those who now
own the statue.
The man produces a broken silver pocket watch from his ragged jacket. His heterochromic eyes flicker
over its shattered face. They have about ten minutes. He goes on to explain that if they give him the
statue he will "dismiss" the Bloated Woman and save them from their fates.
He doesn’t have much leverage, but he is telling the truth. If the Agents repeatedly refuse, Morsley will
reluctantly attack (unseen homeless and drug-addled vagrants will come to his aid). But he will first
mention that he can impart knowledge and power if the Agents acquiesce -- “A surprisingly gracious
exchange, yes? I’m told you are here to prevent old pieces of the past like this from being used
improperly. Well, I’ll make sure it’s never found again by man’s ambitions -- and you both fulfill your
duties and gain my blessing in the process.
“Or this duel is sadly not yet over -- and you face the winner of a game that has gone on longer than your
lives.”
If the Agents hand the ugly jade statue to the ragged man, he quickly snatches it, stuffs it inside his
oversized suit jacket, and then turns around to leave. His posture immediately becomes hunched and
lilting as he shuffles away, and he begins muttering to himself in pidgin English, seemingly unaware of
the Agents behind him and ignoring any additional attempts at communication.
All surviving Agents gain the innate knowledge of the Ritual The Pattern Speaks. The Handler is
encouraged to omit the SAN cost for learning the Ritual if it is directly imparted in this manner by
Morsley.
AFTERMATH
The Agents need not lift a finger to manipulate the official story around the dockside run-aground. Law
enforcement will piece hypotheses together from a completely mundane perspective, and call the
discovery of “enough fentanyl to kill 100,000 people” in the adjoining warehouse a miraculous bit of
synchronicity.
David Yeung will be painted as a sociopath, CCP-sympathizer and likely spy, and criminal -- his death
while busy directing his own smuggling operation will be described as “no doubt deserved.” Although
ongoing FBI investigations had not yet focused on Yeung, they will begin an exhaustive analysis of his
business holdings and associates to further excise considerable contraband operations out of New York
City.
The nature of the Caress of the Goddess Ritual means there is no conclusive Unnatural evidence to
dispose of. So with the death of Yeung and the relinquishing of the Jade Statue, the Agents’ work is done
-- although reporting the bizarre interaction with “John Morsley” may raise many questions from PORTER
during any subsequent debriefing.
SAN REWARDS AND PENALTIES

● Ensuring the end of David Yeung (+1D4)
● Destroying the Jade Statue (+1D6)
● Giving the Jade Statue to Morsley (-1D4)
APPENDIX I: STATISTICS
Rachel Glenn, Suspicious Special Agent

STR 10 CON 13 DEX 10 INT 17 POW 14 CHA 13
HP 12 WP 14
SKILLS: Alertness (50%), Athletics (50%), Bureaucracy (40%), Criminology (50%), Drive (50%), Firearms
(50%), First Aid (60%), Forensics (60%), HUMINT (60%), Law (30%), Medicine (60%), Melee Weapons
(40%), Navigate (30%), Persuade (50%), Search (50%), Unarmed Combat (60%)
ATTACKS
● Springfield Hellcat (50%), 1D10
Special Agent Rachel Glenn appears disarmingly young, and she became a Special Agent before most in
her graduating class at Quantico. Her background is extensively in medical forensics,and she was
hand-picked to liaise between the CDC and the FBI once it was clear that a consultation was required in
the case of Francis Ng. She is extremely persistent, highly intelligent, and if the Agents are not careful she
may start to suspect them of having an agenda. She could be a major thorn in their side, or a potential
inductee into The Program.
Sam Kwan, Bloodhound and Program Friendly

HP 12 WP 22
SKILLS: Alertness (60%), Athletics (60%), Bureaucracy (40%), Criminology (55%), Drive (50%), Firearms
(40%), First Aid (30%), Forensics (30%), HUMINT (50%), Law (30%), Melee Weapons (50%), Navigate (40%),
Persuade (40%), Search (50%), Unarmed Combat (70%)
ATTACKS
● Beretta 92 (40%), 1D10
● Baton (50%), 1D6
Sam Kwan has been on the force for eleven years, eight of which he has worked as a detective.
Four of those years, he’s supported a federal agency sometimes skirting certain bureaucratic
necessities to obtain police reports and manipulating evidence. Sam has seen and justified the
value of a group like Delta Green, and he has been witness to two preternatural events that have
turned him into a firm believer that when it comes to the Unnatural -- the ends justify the
means.
David Yeung, Future Emperor

HP 12 WP 22
SKILLS: Alertness (60%), Art (Chinese Calligraphy) (78%), Drive (40%), Firearms (50%), Melee Weapons
(40%), Occult (70%), Science (Mathematics) (85%), Unarmed Combat (30%), Unnatural (31%)
ATTACKS
● Browning Hi-Power (50%), 1D10
KNOWN RITUALS
● Step Through the Angles
● Caress of The Goddess
● Call Forth Those From Outside (Handler’s Guide pg. 175)
David Yeung is disarmingly tall and lanky. His entire body seems unnaturally elongated, down to his
spindly, tapered fingers. Despite his matchstick-thin appearance, he is sinewy-strong and commands a
fierce grip. His short, jet black hair and unlined and angular face suggests he is a man in his middle age.
David is of clear Chinese descent and sports a pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip. He often wears oval
black sunglasses during the day, especially while driving. His tastes are exquisite, donning only
custom-tailored suits specifically altered for his imposing frame.
Typical Triad Member & Páxíng de hǔnluàn Cultist

HP 12 WP 10
SKILLS: Alertness (30%), Drive (20%), Firearms (50%), Melee Weapons (40%), Unarmed Combat (40%)
ATTACKS
● MAC-10 Machine Pistol (50%), 1D10, Lethality 10%
● Karambit (40%), 1D6, Armor Piercing 3
The stateside muscle of the Páxíng de hǔnluàn is made up of younger gangers who have been brought
over from the Chinese mainland to specifically work Yeung’s fentanyl import infrastructure and to assist
with security concerns. Others have been lured from disaffected youth of “the proper stock” from New
York’s Chinatown, like Jerry Wong. Those from the mainland greatly fear and idolize David Yeung and will
proceed to protect and serve him fanatically. The others are less convinced that their boss is a powerful
immortal spirit, but dutifully carry out any orders regardless.
“John Morsley”
HP 9 WP 27
SKILLS: Alertness (30%), Firearms (30%), Melee Weapons (40%), Stealth (80%), Unarmed Combat (40%)
ATTACKS
● Rebar Cane (40%), 1D8
The ragged man was once named “Philip Greggson.” After a lengthy custody battle with his ex-wife, he
ended up alone and unable to ever see his children again. Already dangerously teetering on the brink of
various addictions, Greggson gave in to his worst impulses and soon succumbed to an intense regimen of
alcohol and drug abuse. Seventeen years later, he roams the streets and underways of New York City,
gibbering feverishly at unseen messages on tiled walls and looking for anything with which he might
prolong the technicolor haze that effuses his consciousness.
Morsley’s Patterner
HP 9 WP 7
SKILLS: Alertness (30%), Art (Musical Instrument) (20%), Firearms (30%), Melee Weapons (40%), Stealth
(50%), Unarmed Combat (40%)
ATTACKS
● Saturday Night Special (30%), 1D8
● Board with Nail (40%), 1D8
The huddled masses of New York City may not be the most well-nourished and hardy individuals, but they
make up for their physical shortcomings with sheer number. If moved against a foe, Morsley’s deranged
and delirious adherents will attack voraciously and unpredictably. Some utilize the element of surprise to
great advantage, appearing as a distracted old man or woman in order to get close to a target. Morsley’s
real power, however, lies in ensnaring nearly anyone who has a predisposition to psychosis or neurotic
behavior -- including the Agents.
來自錯誤恆星的野獸
Láizì cuòwù héngxīng de yěshò
STR 17 CON 29 DEX 12 INT 8 POW 15
HP 23 WP 15
ARMOR: 2 points of slippery, chitinous flesh
SKILLS: Alertness (50%), Flight (75%), Dodge (33%)
ATTACKS
● Limb Flail (60%) 1D12 (see LIMB FLAIL)
● Rake (40%), 1D8, Armor Piercing 3
UNNATURAL BIOLOGY: Its physiology would baffle any biologist. Making a called shot for “vitals” or
another apparently vulnerable area inflicts normal damage, with no special game effect.
LIMB FLAIL: It can swipe at a target with half a dozen barbed and armored probusci, knocking it backwards
and biting and slicing for 1D12 damage
ABERRANT FLIGHT: It can “fly” in any environment, moving as if beating its wings against some unseen
current—even underwater or in space. In flight, it can move at any speed its instincts demand, passing
through any medium without friction or difficulty.
SAN LOSS: 1/1D6.
The Velvet King

STR 10 CON 10 DEX 13 INT 5 POW 10
HP 12 WP 15
ARMOR: 2 points of rubbery black skin (see RESILIENT)
SKILLS: Alertness (50%), Flight (70%), Dodge (33%), Stealth (90%)
ATTACKS
● Seize (90%) 2D10 (see SEIZE and TICKLE)
● Puncture (40%), 1D8, Armor Piercing 5
UNNATURAL BIOLOGY: The Velvet King’s physiology would baffle any biologist. Making a called shot for
“vitals” or another apparently vulnerable area inflicts normal damage, with no special game effect.
RESILIENT: A successful Lethality roll does not destroy the Velvet King, but inflicts HP damage equal to the
Lethality rating.
SEIZE: The Velvet King favors seizing opponents after which they can tickle them with their barbed tail. The
victim can attempt to escape with a STR test opposed by the Seize test. The Velvet King can continue
to take actions while keeping a victim seized. It can also squeeze a seized victim once per turn with an
opposed Seize vs. STR test, inflicting 2D10 damage (which ignores body armor). This does not count as the
Velvet King’s action. It can fly while holding and squeezing a target.
TICKLE: The Velvet King may only tickle foes who have already been Seized. A successful tickling attack is
extremely unnerving, for the barb of its tail is razor-sharp and perilous even while its light application does
no damage—the target becomes bewildered, humiliated, and disoriented, suffering a -40% detriment on
all rolls until the tickling stops. The Velvet King’s tail can snake through holes and openings, slice through
thick clothes, and find even the interstices of body armor.
SAN LOSS: 0/1D6.
APPENDIX II: ARTIFACTS
The Jade Statue

An intricately carved statuette of a seated woman. She is holding a scepter in one hand that doesn’t
match a traditional celestial office. Her face is expressionless, almost mask-like. Her eyes are like slits,
and several sickles hang around her waist. It is only about eight inches tall, weighing about two
kilograms. An expert might date its carving around 1600 AD.
The Goddess of the Black Fan

黑扇女神
Xuán-shan nu-shên
(summary adapted from the work of Daniel Harms)
In Cantonese. Study time: months. Occult +16%, Unnatural +16%, SAN loss 2D8.
A book of poetry dating back to the 16th century and written by Liu Chan-fang. It is approximately 50
pages long and is nearly impossible to find in the West outside of a few carefully-guarded rare-book
collections in university libraries. In China, the government possesses all copies of the book, or so they
claim; numerous copies of the book are believed to be owned by private collectors.
The Goddess of the Black Fan has a profoundly unsavory reputation; it is said to be the holy text of a
particularly bloodthirsty cult whose members believe their goddess will help them drive all humanity
insane and destroy the world. It's believed that they were responsible for over 500 deaths in China
before 1918. The then-republican government stamped them out and executed several purported
leaders, scattering any remnants across the continent and further abroad. There are stories of a curse
attached to the book -- several Chinese scholars who have studied it have come to bad ends.
The book has been translated only twice into English. In 1879, Roderick Rutherford Blain, a professor at
Oxford, spent almost a year on a translation. Two weeks after it was published, he walked into a butcher
shop near the campus and committed suicide by driving a pair of carving knives into his eyes. In 1933,
Professor Edmond Pincker of Massachusetts apparently finished his translation one night, organized his
papers neatly, hacked his wife and two children to pieces in their sleep, and vanished into the
countryside. Police were never able to locate him.
Of the few people who have read all three versions of the book, most say the poem loses a lot in its
translation from the original Chinese--the meter of the original poem is impossible to translate into
English, and many of Liu's more colorful (and horrific and disturbing) passages sound downright bland in
English. Most also say they prefer Blain's version, mainly because it's considered the least faithful to the
original text. Excerpts from Pincker's translation are reproduced here for the summary below.
At the beginning of the book, Liu is in mourning after the deaths of his wife and son in a fire. He has been
employed by the emperor as a scribe and minor dignitary, but he has abandoned his responsibilities so
that he may spend his life drunk:
The winter moon shines down

on frosted trees and chilled temples
I sit alone with my cup of wine
And sing toasts to death and life
A man may sing to his cups and the moon

For what else is there to life, yes?
I loved my wife and child
But now they have gone to Hell
After several days of besotted self-pity, Liu hears a new voice and a new song from a nearby valley.
My song drifts and fades like autumn

And a new song is lifted from the valley
It is a woman's song, wordless and sweet
The voice soars like a bird's flight
The voice sings, Come to me, come to me
Come to me, and I must go
Who could deny such a sweet, high voice?
Who could refuse her soft plea?
Entranced, Liu follows the voice to a deserted and decaying temple far in the wilderness. It is there that
he meets his goddess for the first time.
She stands alone in her temple

Alone atop a bejeweled dais
Her beauty would blast the heavens
Her eyes are dark green pools
A silken tunic she wears

Yellow and black in color, like a wasp
And in her belt she has tucked her sting
Six sickles, sharp as a dragon's tooth
Her face she hides behind a fan

Black metal, as black as darkness
My lady, remove your fan
I would feast upon your beauty
The fan flutters but does not fall

She simpers behind the fan and says
"You would make such requests of a god?"
Her voice is like iron shredding velvet
I did not know you were a god, my lady

Tell me how I may worship you
Tell me how I may praise you
My life has been but a prelude to you
She simpers, and her eyes imprison me

"No one may say my name," she coos
"But you may serve me, forever and ever"
Songs of joy gibber behind my lips
Liu soon discovers that his goddess craves worship and followers...
"A goddess must be pampered," said she

"Loved, adored, and worshipped (sic)
"She must be fed with sacred offerings
"Bring me children for my congregation."
Liu is enraptured and leaves the temple immediately. Soon, he discovers a peasant's child gathering
berries in the forest. The little boy distrusts Liu, but the man gathers his wits, lures the child close with
promises of sweets, and captures him. The boy kicks and screams all the way back to the temple, but
there is no one to hear him...
The boy's struggles cease as he beholds the Goddess

A quiet joy holds him fast as she takes him in her arms
She turns from me, lifts a sickle from her belt
And removes her fan. The child screams for a moment
Liu is either blinded by love or is a bit of a simpleton, as he disregards the child's alarm, not to mention
that his goddess apparently has at least four arms. The Goddess takes the child into another room, and
when Liu follows a few minutes later, he makes an unpleasant discovery.
The child's head was opened with the sickle

Then discarded once plucked of brain
Behind her fan, the Goddess slurps
"I love no offering more than grey lilies from a child"
But even this gruesome sight is forgotten after a bit more time of speaking with and adoring the
Goddess, still hiding all but her eyes behind her metal fan. Soon, Liu is again lost in abject worship...
There is no glory greater than the Goddess of the Black Fan

Her beauty and wisdom are more vast than the numbers of stars at night
The Goddess of the Black Fan is the meaning of all life and death
Nothing is to be denied her, and no sacrifice is too great
If the Emperor comes to you and demands your home and wife
You give them both up for his glory and honor
How much more does the Goddess deserve, when she is greater than the Emperor?
She loves her grey lilies, so with joy do I attend to the harvest
Soon enough, the Goddess is demanding more children, and Liu begins a campaign of kidnapping
throughout the region, targeting his brother and his family first...
Why should Hsien have children when I have lost mine?

He has never been an honorable man
If there were justice, he would have lost his children
But thanks to the Goddess, there can be justice again
Hsien's house was quiet, and even the servants and dogs slept
None heard me enter, none heard me leave
A dozing child in my arms, a baby in my sack
All glory and praise to the Goddess of the Black Fan!
Over the following weeks, Liu continues to kidnap more children to feed the appetites of the Goddess. At
the beginning of the most controversial, stomach-churning, and reviled section of the poem, she decides
to reward her faithful servant...
Sated on lilies, the Goddess regards me with endless green eyes

"Your faithfulness must have a reward, and your love must have an answer"
She takes my hand, draws it behind her fan, and kisses it
Softly, hidden from view, she kisses me and sucks on my fingers
And what follows is the longest section of the book -- over five full pages of Liu and the Goddess
consummating their union. The lurid depictions are not erotic, and instead seem to embrace obscenity
and wretched degradation, imparting strong feelings of disgust in the reader. These passages leave a
lasting impression that are rumored to forever diminish the eros of those who read them due to the
horrid visions associated.
After these degrading acts Liu has lost all rationality, and he dedicates himself even more fervently to
harvesting more children for his Goddess.
The woman is dead, struck down with my blade

She should have surrendered when I said the name of the Goddess
The girl is near death and may die before we reach the temple
The boy lies stunned and weeping and will live to the lips of my beloved
My Goddess awaits my return, awaits the harvest she craves

My heart surges with pride and lust to think that she needs me
She gluts down grey lilies and listens for my footfalls
I ride my steed the faster, for she awaits my return
And finally, seemingly pleased with Liu's loyal service, the Goddess makes him a promise...
"You will see my face, worthy little man

"For you, my black fan will be cast aside
"You will behold the full glory of your Goddess
"Your ecstasy will know no limits"
It is worth noting that while Pincker uses the word "ecstasy" here, Blain's translation says "madness."
Liu changes the format of the final section of the book -- he writes the last two pages in a faded brown
ink which the translators thankfully did not try to reproduce. Liu wrote it soon after the Goddess kept
her promise and let him see her face.
Her eyes remained the same, so green and deep

So rich and lovely, still could they put me in a trance
Her eyes remained the same, yet when the black fan fell
Everything else about her changed
I have focused on her fan and her eyes, but now I finally see her
Before my eyes, she expands, sluglike and bloated, immense and howling
Her sweet mouth sprouts into five fang-snaggled maws
Her arms become like venomous snakes, questing for blood
The dragon-toothed feaster towering above me, her own temple too small
Her mouths open and five voices giggle girlishly, licking the air
"Tell your Goddess that you love her, Liu Chan-fang" she taunts
I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her
After this revelation, Liu, reeling between extremes of disgust and desire, flees from the temple of the
goddess, taking with him only the book of poems he has been writing and one of the sickles from the
goddess' belt. After a hallucinatory flight through the wilderness, he returns to the ruins of his former
home, where he completes his final poem.
She remains my Goddess yet, and the greatest love of my life

But she is also the greatest beast, more terrible than tigers or dragons
She has devoured my soul just as she has the grey lilies I have harvested
All my life, all my art is forfeit for her beauty and for her evil
Thus have I taken the sickle of the Goddess and opened my belly
My quill is dipped into my own reservoir and my own red, red ink
As my heart has bled for the glory of my Goddess
Now let my heart bleed to commemorate her horrors
With these words, my poem is completed

With these words, I die
All praise and worship to my Goddess
My Goddess of the Black Fan
Legend has it that Liu's body was found sitting bolt upright in the house where his wife and child had
died. He was holding his completed poem in his lap -- and despite his own blood and gore coating his
body and poured onto the floor, the book was completely clean and without blemish.
Legend also has it that the top of Liu's head had been sliced open and his brain removed.
RITUALS: Caress of the Goddess, Call Forth Those From Outside
APPENDIX III: RITUALS
Step Through The Angles

Simple ritual. Study time: weeks; +3 Unnatural, 1D4 SAN. Activation: minutes; 1 WP and 1 SAN per
minute of use; Science (Mathematics) 60% or better
David Yeung has developed an extraordinary method to quickly travel between discrete physical points.
For all intents and purposes, this allows him to move vast distances in the blink of an eye, and it is one of
the ways he augments his contraband import business to avoid the mundane scrutiny of law
enforcement.
Based on David’s expanding understanding of higher geometric principles, he has perfected his craft to
quickly perform the abstract and complex calculations to move between such distances ad hoc. David
does require a physical representation of a door to be specifically sketched or drawn on a flat surface
that is close to the desired angle. Once this is complete, he can step through the surface and emerge
from a desired wall in another place per his calculations. Although this is not invariably perfect, it has
always been exact enough.
To an onlooker, it appears that David peels back the drywall paint or thin surface layer where he has
drawn his door symbol. Looking beyond the “rip” reveals a sometimes staggeringly view into another
impossibly larger room or place. Depending on the origin and destination, witnessing this phenomena
could cost the onlooker 1/1D4 to 1/1D8 SAN.
Caress of the Goddess

Simple ritual. Study time: weeks; +3 Unnatural, 1D10 SAN. Activation: minutes; 60 WP and 1D6 SAN
Assuming there is a source of clean water nearby, an operator can encourage the baleful attentions of
the Bloated Woman to turn toward a desired target. If the operator has properly prepared themselves
through strict meditational devotions, a lengthy diet of only raw ruminant meats, and the willing or
unwilling donation of WP from either the operator or assistant participants (or both), they can merely
touch a living target to encourage it to take on the ghastly visage of their loathsome deity for a few
hours. The cost for this remains the same for additional targets, and an operator can carry “charges” of
the Caress for weeks at a time in order to inflict its dreadful effects repeatedly.
This results in rapid edemization of the target’s soft tissues, causing them to expand and bloat to
abnormal sizes and soon perish from asphyxiation due to their own distorting, choking flesh. A target’s
skin, no matter how distended, will not rupture unless exposed to external puncturing stimuli. The
excess fluids will slowly begin to retreat from the body, evaporating rapidly and leaving behind a
grotesquely stretched and unrecognizable cadaver.
The Pattern Speaks

Simple ritual. Study time: weeks; +3 Unnatural, 1D10 SAN. Activation: minutes; 8 WP and 1D6 SAN
The Operator of this Ritual attempts to enter a Zen-like state to “open” themselves to the underlying
pattern of reality. Collating disparate sources of mundane data -- old Time magazines from a flea market,
a first edition of Catcher and the Rye, photographs of 1960 Alcatraz prisoners, poems written by a
friend’s five-year-old -- can potentially augment the Ritual Activation roll by +20-40%. The more
apparently disjointed and unconnected the data; the more expansive and nearing-obsession; the higher
the bonus to Ritual Activation. A minimum of disparate data must be collated and placed before the
Operator, then manipulated until a pattern emerges.
If the test is passed, the Operator will clearly understand that they have been successful in glimpsing the
subjacent network of logical connections that makes up reality’s fundament. The Handler is encouraged
to award the Operator with some direct “insight” into their current case, perhaps obfuscated
as-perceived by an alien intelligence -- or as explicit as spelling out the exact details requested. The level
of helpfulness is up to the Handler, but the factual accuracy of the delivery should never be impugned. A
diabolical Handler may dole out very vague snippets that only lead to more questions, encouraging the
Operator to continually re-engage in the Ritual until their curiosity is completely sated. The same costs
apply for each attempt.
EXAMPLE: The murderer Agent Ryan is attempting to track down is holed up in a small Montana cabin
while he patiently waits for the heat in Helena to die down. None of Agent Ryan’s leads are providing an
indication as to the murderer’s location, and it’s even starting to look like the fugitive may no longer be
amongst the living. Desperate for a clue, Ryan arranges the following on a large drafting table surface
and begins to try and intuit connections: 80 matchbooks each from different Salt Lake City locales, a
Gideon Bible that has been torn into two, a pile of magazine cut-outs of many eyes and ears, and a
two-volume history on Constantine the Great. He rolls 99 - current SAN. The Handler decides to award a
+20% bonus toward success due to Agent Ryan’s dissimilar data collation efforts. If successful, Agent
Ryan pays the Ritual cost and immediately knows that his quarry has isolated himself from all
socialization, working the land amidst a dense wilderness and waiting patiently for the Agent to give up.
If Ryan fails, he realizes he has not been able to properly peer beyond the mirage that is apparent reality.
He can pay half the WP cost and lose a reduced amount of SAN (1D4), or he can force a connection to the
Unnatural by sacrificing 1 POW, permanently.
APPENDIX IV: HANDLER’S TIMELINE
Many Weeks Ago

● Yeung decides to make his move. He knows he needs The Goddess of the Black Fan to
restructure the energies in the City. He visits Leonard Beeks, a Dagon cultist and “fellow traveler”
with no shortage of occultic black market insight.
● Yeung arranges for the “disappearance” of The Goddess of the Black Fan from the New York
Metropolitan Library.
● Yeung commissions the gold and silver sickles.
● Yeung’s network through mainland China’s Páxíng de hǔnluàn produces information regarding a
series of auctions in Hong Kong where a recovered jade statue of the Bloated Woman is rumored
to be available.
● John Morsley begins surveilling the Crosby Street Hotel through Bill Harrison.
● Yeung dispatches someone who he trusts implicitly to broker with the auction house -- Francis
Ng, the man who cleans his money. Ng heads to Hong Kong.
Yesterday
● Ng returns to the States. Jerry Wong and Michelle Lee pick him up at the JFK International
Airport later that day.
● Ng is accosted by a Morsley Patterner and Michelle Lee steals the Jade Statue.
● IRS Agent Kovac the the FBI use a broad warrant to set up a surveillance net at the Crosby Street
Hotel, using both digital equipment and several undercover agents planted both within and
without the building.
Tonight & Tomorrow

● 7:15 PM
○ Ng contacts Yeung once situated in his hotel room.
○ Yeung discovers Ng’s incompetence and disposes of him in fury.
○ The federal investigation suffers an electrical malfunction that disconnects all ongoing
connections.
○ Yeung disposes of a witness to Ng’s unnatural murder, Murray Swartz.
● 9 PM
○ Kovac discovers Ng’s bloated corpse.
● 9:30 PM
○ The DG SAP is activated and the Agents are placed enroute to NYC.
● 2:30 AM
○ The Agents arrive in NYC and receive their briefing at Griffiss.
● 3:30 AM
○ The Agents arrive at the Crosby Street Hotel.
● 4:30 AM
○ Police respond to a call regarding a “messed up dead guy” from a building
superintendent who entered an apartment to fix a massive water leak. They investigate
Murray Swartz’s home and discover his bloated corpse.
● 7:00 AM
○ The Agents complete their field investigation at Crosby Street Hotel and close
quarantine.
○ Yeung soon moves to confront Ng’s driver, Jerry Wong, a trusted soldier of Páxíng de
hǔnluàn muscle born in New York’s Chinatown.
● 8:30 AM
○ Yeung finds Jerry’s girlfriend Michelle first and dispatches her, casting her bloated corpse
into the East River.
● 10:00 AM
○ The Agents investigate the murder of Murray Swartz.
○ John Morsley begins surveilling Number 1 Hong Kong Imports Pier 31 through John
Grimes.
● 4:00 PM
○ The Agents investigate the murder of Michelle Lee.
● 6:00 PM
○ Yeung tracks Jerry down as well and forces him to return to his apartment to relinquish
Michelle’s stolen and now hidden goods. Jerry produces the statue and gives it to Yeung.
Yeung dispatches Jerry.
● 6:30 PM
○ The Agents spot Yeung leaving Jerry’s apartment.
● 8 PM - 11 PM
○ The Ritual kicks off early that evening, before Yeung is completely prepared. John
Morsley moves to interrupt the proceedings.
APPENDIX V: WAREHOUSE MAP

Operation Molten Carrier

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Operation Molten Carrier

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OPERATION MOLTEN CARRIER

Adapted from the work of Allan W. Goodall: Water/Retention

OTHER ROUTES OF INVESTIGATION 19

ALL SIGNS SHOULD LEAD TO PIER 31 20

SAN REWARDS AND PENALTIES 24

APPENDIX III: RITUALS 35

APPENDIX IV: HANDLER’S TIMELINE 37

APPENDIX V: WAREHOUSE MAP 39

That is, unless other hidden players remain on the chessboard.

John Morsley, The Underhex

The Boss is Very Disappointed

“Have you got the package?”

“Yes, and at the agree--”

The Federal Perspective

The Room, The Body

Following the Trail

Kwan is a powerfully-built Korean-American with a firm handshake and an engaging personality. He is

The Agents should be manifestly outnumbered.

SAN REWARDS AND PENALTIES

Rachel Glenn, Suspicious Special Agent

Sam Kwan, Bloodhound and Program Friendly

David Yeung, Future Emperor

Typical Triad Member & Páxíng de hǔnluàn Cultist

The Velvet King

The Jade Statue

The Goddess of the Black Fan

The winter moon shines down

A man may sing to his cups and the moon

My song drifts and fades like autumn

She stands alone in her temple

A silken tunic she wears

Her face she hides behind a fan

The fan flutters but does not fall

I did not know you were a god, my lady

She simpers, and her eyes imprison me

"A goddess must be pampered," said she

The boy's struggles cease as he beholds the Goddess

The child's head was opened with the sickle

There is no glory greater than the Goddess of the Black Fan

Why should Hsien have children when I have lost mine?

Sated on lilies, the Goddess regards me with endless green eyes

The woman is dead, struck down with my blade

My Goddess awaits my return, awaits the harvest she craves

"You will see my face, worthy little man

Her eyes remained the same, so green and deep

She remains my Goddess yet, and the greatest love of my life

With these words, my poem is completed

Step Through The Angles

Caress of the Goddess

The Pattern Speaks

Many Weeks Ago

Tonight & Tomorrow

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