Mythos Mountaineering...

At some point, your players are going to head into the mountains, either in search of the insidious Mi-Go, or hard on the heels of that renowned mountaineer Aleister Crowley in an attempt to stop him opening a gate to somewhere nasty. When this happens, it pays to know what sort of preparations will be in order.

This, of course, is to make sure that the party is ready for anything – from cosmic horrors to frostbite – but it is also to ensure that the story is free from the Keeper’s most dire nemesis: money. A cashed-up party is the bane of good story-telling, because many problems that require innovative role-playing to circumvent are waved away by the simple expedient of throwing funds at them. Need to be through the Shanghai blockade by midnight? Help yourself to the contents of my pocketbook, good sir! Need to outbid the competition at an auction for a vital Mythos relic? Never mind, I’ll have Cadbury swing ‘round with another trunkful of cash! Where some interesting gaming may spring from the tense resolution of some Fast Talk, Bargain, Credit Rating and Law rolls, it all gets suddenly swept aside by a cascade of pound notes, or a cataract of dollars. While many players would see this as just being prepared for any emergency, others may feel that the essence of adventure is being stifled by the easy out of Mythos bit-coins.

In the case of a mountain expedition – be it to Switzerland or to the Antarctic – preparation is vital to success – in terms of simple outcomes – but also in terms of telling a good tale. Think back to the last time that you read “At The Mountains Of Madness”: most of that novella is about the preparations made by the expedition and the equipment that they took with them. If you’ve ever read Peter Fleming’s Brazilian Adventure, or Alexandra David-Neel’s With Mystics and Magicians in Tibet, or even Robert Fortune’s Yedo & Peking; A Narrative of a Journey to the Capitals of Japan & China; With Notices of the Natural Productions, Agriculture, Horticulture, and Trade of those Countries, and other things met with by the way, you’ll have seen that much of the space in these works is dedicated to the preparations made by the explorers before setting out. Even works of fiction like Basil Copper’s The Great White Space and Blavatsky’s Book of Dzyan are replete with notes about getting ready to depart, even before the action kicks in. It’s this getting ready that builds the tension within the narrative and makes for a satisfying tale in the end.

The Swiss Alps was a favourite holiday location for Britons in the late Victorian and Edwardian eras and a vast industry coalesced around the efforts of getting English holiday-makers to the mountains and back again, hopefully in one piece. The major player in setting up this trade was an Englishman named Edward Whymper, who travelled to Zermatt near the Matterhorn and wrote annual travel guides for those who were keen to walk in his footsteps. Initially, he made a living by sketching the ruggedly beautiful Swiss landscape and having these images engraved when he got back to London: these were so popular that they financed his written memoirs and set him up as the quintessential tour guide for those who wanted to see the mountains ‘in the flesh’ as it were. Whymper’s A Guide to Zermatt and the Matterhorn came out in annual revised editions starting in 1897, and kept mountaineering enthusiasts apprised of such things as track closures, hotel tariffs and quality - even the names of local guides who could be hired.

Soon, those who produced the goods and services necessary to the wellbeing of mountain trekkers, haggled to have their advertisements included in Whymper’s Guide, and his endorsement was sought for every possible product, from rope, to woolen underwear, to beef extract, to travel memoirs. Hoteliers and local climbers in Switzerland were equally desperate to be name-checked in the book, because it guaranteed an income through the tourist season.

There was some scandal, however. On one of his trips, Whymper’s party met with misfortune whilst climbing the Matterhorn; there were deaths and, as is the way in these tragedies, the few who survived detailed different accounts of what transpired and Whymper had the light of suspicion cast upon his efforts as a reliable mountaineer. Queen Victoria even issued a ban against Britons visiting the region as a result (not that anyone took any notice; in fact, the number of tourists increased). Many later editions of his Guide are tinged with a sense of Whymper making a case for his innocence, by raking over the incidents of the mishap and dutifully discussing the burial sites at Swiss churches of those who didn’t make it back alive. The final resting places, of these and other unlucky Britons, almost became pilgrimage sites for those following after them, and they are meticulously detailed in the Guide.

WHYMPER, Edward, A Guide to Zermatt and the Matterhorn, Gaston’s Alpine Books/West Col Productions, Reading Berks. UK, 1978.

Octavo; paperback, perfect bound with illustrated wrappers; 224pp. (plus 42pp.of adverts), with two folding plates and many engraved illustrations. Facsimile reprint: moderate wear; covers rubbed with some marks and sunned along the spine; light foxing to the text block edges and folding plates; a small tear to the foot of the upper hinge. Very good.

What follows, therefore, is a slew of information about getting your party to the Swiss Alps and back again, taken from an early edition of the Guide, and suitable for any team of Investigators from the Gaslight era to the Classic “Call of Cthulhu” setting of the 1920s (modern-day Investigators will have to make use of the Internet, I’m afraid). I’m using a facsimile reprint of the Guide from 1899, published by Gaston’s Alpine Books and West Col Productions in 1978; but there are no doubt many other copies out there in the world to be obtained.

Why use this kind of material? Quite apart from the satisfying divesting of your party’s funds, the short answer to that question is longevity. “Call of Cthulhu” is often touted as a game where characters’ lifespans are shorter than those of mayflies, but the simple process of preparing for an expedition effectively puts the brakes on the narrative, bolsters the confidence of your team, and keeps everyone among the living for a little bit longer. If the stakes in your adventure are high, a few sessions of logistics planning and outfitting – with the attendant haggling, scouting and bargaining – can be just as interesting and fulfilling as a session that involves a confrontation with a Mythos nemesis. It also raises the stakes enormously when the narrative takes that turn towards the dramatic...

Of course, your story might not be set in the alpine regions of Switzerland, but the material presented here can be extrapolated upon for other parts of the world.

First Issue: Money

The monetary systems of both the US and England remained remarkably consistent in the period from 1895 to 1925. There were economic fluctuations of course, but on the whole, parity between the currencies of both countries remained fairly level. Consistent enough for the purposes of roleplaying, anyway. If your players are heading out during the Great War, or are adventuring in Germany in the Inter-war era, you’ll need to get a little creative; but straight currency conversion between England and America is a relative breeze. Keep in mind also, that England and Australia used the same currency for much of this time and it was traded on an equal footing (despite there being much more gold in Australia’s gold sovereigns than the chintzy British ones!). Similar arrangements were no doubt in place in countries like New Zealand and Rhodesia.

Conversion rates are as follows:

1 British Pound (£) = 20 shillings = 5 US Dollars

1 British shilling (s) = 12 pennies = 25 US cents

1 British penny (d) = 2 US cents

This lets us convert £1/1s/1d (or one pound, one shilling and one penny) to roughly $5.27. Remember also, that the British traded in guineas as well, when dealing in real estate, medical transactions, art deals, the purchase of mechanical infrastructure, or resources (such a steel or coal). A guinea is equal to one pound and one shilling, or twenty-one shillings, just to make things confusing. As you can see, that’s worth US$5.25.

To make things fast, I have thrown together an Excel spreadsheet based on these figures to make currency conversion easy to handle in-game; you might like to do something similar yourself.

Now that we know what we’re paying with, let’s get down to business!

Second Issue: What to Wear.

Back in the day, there was no such thing as GoreTex or any of the other funky and new-fangled materials that readily keep people from freezing in sub-zero temperatures nowadays. Back in the late Victorian times you had two choices: flannel and wool. Wool was by far the most preferable because it kept you warm and wicked away moisture, thereby keeping you dry – a positive bonus in the snow. It was also difficult to set fire to, so the fallout from accidents around campfires and stoves was minimised. As a result of Mr. Whymper, many tailors in London began to specialise in clothing made from wool, producing everything a climber might need from underwear to full suits. When Mallory’s body was found at the base of Everest, he had an unpaid bill in his suit pocket for the woolen clothes that he had on.

I posted an earlier list of clothing – “The Well-Dressed Gentleman Investigator” (and I apologise now for not having completed a similar list for lady investigators: I am working on it but the sheer magnitude of the task, what with shifts in style and the innovations of materials, processes and manufacture, has kept it on the backburner). Much of what a mountaineering adventurer might need is contained there – players should focus on items made from wool (including vicuña, which is wool from llamas) or cotton. Keep in mind that, unlike today, there was no faddish adherence to a clique-y dress-code for various activities; adventurers back then often wore gear that made them look as though they were merely out for a stroll around the village pond, so allow your players some leeway in their choices.

Items such as sunglasses were not considered necessary either, and sunscreen hadn’t even been imagined back then; a good hat was the answer to the issues combated by these modern contrivances.

Third Issue: What to Eat

This might seem an odd thing to consider, but Britons (and, by extension, Americans) were highly wary about eating a foreign diet. Better, they thought, to take along the sort of food that one was used to, rather than risking one’s health on the local cuisine. They found French food too laced with garlic and awash in sauces, Spanish food too heavily-reeking of garlic and loaded with seafood, and Italian food was simply bizarre. Heaven knows what they would have thought about sitting around a tabletop stove in Zermatt, dunking pieces of bread into melted cheese! No, on the whole, they preferred to BYO.

As for drink, champagne was considered de rigueur when mountain-climbing, as every summit reached necessitated a celebratory cork-popping. No mountaineer worth the name ever left home without a crate or two.

Water, on the other hand, is fairly commonplace in the Alps, in the form of snow and ice, so dehydration isn’t really a problem for those who get lost or stranded. Travelling to the Andes, on the other hand, where water is incredibly scarce, is another issue entirely, and hydrophobic Brits need to be convinced to carry supplies...

Fourth Issue: Climbing Gear

This boils down to backpacks, axes, boots, crampons and rope, in its mean essentials. Most of these items can be found in the price lists in the back of the “Call of Cthulhu” rulebook, but again, check the lists of footwear in my earlier post for specific boots.

Much of the climbing in the Zermatt region is a matter of staged hikes between solidly-built huts. These were made available to climbers, to weather storms or to stay overnight, and an unwritten code of keeping them neat and clean for the next visitors and tipping (generously!) those locals who maintained them was in constant operation. At some point nearer the summit of the mountains though, these huts peter out and the party will need to resort to tents. This means tarpaulins and blankets and transportable food supplies; rope, tent pegs and poles, lamps and portable stoves and things to cook with. Most climbers choose to avoid cooking out on the slopes, making do with potted meats and vegetables or, as a last resort, beef extract (which is about as tasty as it sounds – shudder!). The advantage of these pre-packaged comestibles is not just that they can be eaten straight out of the container, but that they take up little room in a backpack.

Aneroid Barometer	£1/2s/-	$5.50
Arctic Sleeping Bag	£2/12s/1d	$13.00
Camp Stove	£1/3s/4d	$5.85
Canteen (1 quart)*	-/6s/8½d	$1.69
Carbide Lamp	-/10s/4½d	$2.59
Compass	-/9s/9½d	$2.45
Cooking Kit	£1/13/11	$8.48
Folding Camp Bed	£1/3s/9½d	$5.95
Gasoline Lantern*	£1/6s/4½d	$6.59
Kerosene Tent Heater	£1/5s/11½d	$6.50
Reflecting Lamp	-/10s/4½d	$2.59
Rope (per lb.)	-/-/9d	18c
Safety Matches (box of 20)	-/1s/7d	40c
Tarpaulin (24’x30’)	£4/1s/-	$20.25
Tent, A-frame (7’x7’)	-/14s/6½d	$3.65
Tent, Miner’s (12’x12’)	£1/3s/2½d	$5.80
Tent, Wall (16’x24’)	£4/10s/9½d	$22.70
Tin Canteen	-/-/11½d	24c
Water Bag (1 gallon)	-/3s/6½d	89c
Wool Blanket	-/3s/6½d	89c

*These items are only available in the 1920s era

Ice Axe:

The ice axe (or piolet) is crucial to being able to climb in the Alpine regions. It is a one-handed implement, with a tapering pyramidal point on one side of its business end and a flat, chisel-like projection on the other. It is designed to chip handholds in ice formations without simply turning the frozen water into something you’d find in a slushy cup. The chisel can chip away at stone as well, and the flat sides of the steel head allow the user to hammer in pitons – big nails used to tie ropes on to. Modern versions have a curved handle which increases the power in each swing, but the straight wooden handle is your meat-and-potatoes old-school version.

Alpenstock:

An alpenstock is essentially a walking-stick, used for trekking over mountain trails. However, some bright spark at some point decided that it would be a nifty idea to combine the alpenstock and the ice axe and voila! The long-handled ice axe was born. Both versions – with axe-head and without – are common in the Alps. Many walking clubs issue small enamelled medallions to commemorate having completed a particular trail, and these are designed to be riveted to the haft of the walker’s alpenstock; you can spot a well-travelled mountaineer by the bling on their walking-stick.

Without an axe head an alpenstock is simply a large club; with the hardware, they strike just like an ice axe but with a little extra damage from the greater heft.

Crampons:

These footwear additions are designed to let the wearer scramble up ice sheets and walls, such as those obstacles generally encountered on glaciers. They comprise a steel, or iron, frame which straps onto the user’s boots with leather cords, and from which project a myriad flat, triangular spikes. They allow the wearer to gain foot purchase where normally they’d being sliding into the abyss.

It’s obvious therefore, that they can add a mean amount of extra grunt to a Kick attack; however, there are limitations. Crampons are designed to anchor a person in place; the momentum generated by a good kick can throw the attacker completely off balance because, with one foot stuck in place, the force of a kick can throw them right over onto their back – in worst case scenarios, even spiral-fracturing their supporting leg. When Kicking an opponent while wearing crampons, the attacker must roll their DEX or less on 1D20 after attacking, to see if they remain upright; a critical fail means that they’ve hurt themselves. To use these effectively whilst attacking, the wearer needs to spend a round anchoring themselves and getting their balance; this is good if the intended victim is moving towards them and allows them to get into combat range. Having spent this time, the attacker obviates the possibility of having to make a DEX roll, but a malfunction means that either the laces to the crampon have burst, or the blades have become tangled in the victim’s corpus or equipment.

However, if the crampon-clad character also has Martial Arts as a skill, and their successful attack roll is less than their Martial Arts skill, they don’t have to worry about DEX rolls at all.

Weapon	Cost	Base Chance	Damage	Range	Attacks / Round	HPs	Malfunction
Alpenstock*	-/16/- $4	20%	1D8+2+db	touch	1	15	00%
Crampons*	1/3/11½ $6	20%	2D6+db	touch	1	15	95%
Ice Axe*	-/16/- $4	20%	1D6+1+db	touch	1	12	00%

*This weapon can Impale

Fifth Issue: Health Concerns

Most adventurers don’t count on becoming ill when out and about and those who assume this mentality usually don’t fare too well. It’s good to be prepared and a basic first aid kit could be the difference between getting back to base camp or not.

This was a time when all kinds of things were available over the counter in pill or powder form, including cocaine and heroin. The former of these two now-prohibited drugs has had observable effects in reducing high-altitude stress and might help offset some of an Investigator’s altitude sickness if used judiciously. Not so likely are the many powders and concoctions which pharmacists happily pushed on to punters claiming to cure everything from hysteria to cancer: they are hardly likely to be of any use, but it’s better to have something on hand when you’re stuck outside with frostbite in the Swiss Alps.

Keepers may wish to impose penalties on Investigators who attempt their First Aid Rolls on characters without having access to a first aid kit; alternatively, they may choose to levy a bonus to rolls provided by first aid kits of increased cost and quality (+5%; +10%; what have you).

Illnesses and infirmities which characters might have to face are bone breaks, diarrhoea (ironically, quarantining oneself from the local cuisine is a major cause of this), cholera, influenza, exposure and frostbite. First aid kits should therefore contain such things as bandages and splints, preparations for dealing with “Delhi belly”, aspirin, rubbing alcohol, exothermic topical gels and creams containing agents such as eucalyptus or wintergreen oil, a scalpel and scissors.

Alcohol (half gallon)	-/-/9½d	20c
Elastic Bandage (3”x15”)	-/4s/7d	$1.15
Gauze Bandages	-/1s/6½d	39c
Laudanum, 4oz.	-/1s/1½d	28c
Nerve and Brain Pills	-/3s/6d	88c
Scalpel Set	-/5s/6½d	$1.39
Thermometer	-/5s/6½d	$1.39
Wine of Coca, 16oz.	-/3s/9½d	95c

Sixth Issue: Recording Data

Taking notes is something that all Investigators do at some point. When you’re exploring the wilderness, looking for evidence of cosmic horror, you need to have some means of recording evidence to prove that you’re not simply hallucinating.

Cameras and binoculars were fast coming in to their own at this time. Formerly the preserve of the very wealthy, such equipment was being mass-produced and the costs for purchase, while still high, were no longer prohibitively so. Even such devices as dictaphones, portable telephones and phonographs were in reach. The only thing arguing against them was that they were generally quite bulky and difficult to hump around.

Alternatively, minimalist types or technophobes might simply make do with notepads and sketchbooks, along with a reliable mechanical pencil.

Binoculars	£1/3s/9½d	$28.00
Box Camera*	-/9s/2d	$2.29
Dry Photographic Plates, 12	-/2s/-	50c
Film, 24 exposures*	-/1s/6d	38c
Film, 6 exposures*	-/2s/-	50c
Film, 48 exposures	-/11s/5d	$2.85
Folding Pocket Camera*	£3/4s/7d	$16.15
Fountain Pen	-/-/5½d	12c
Hand Camera	£2/17s/7d	$14.40
Ink (2oz.)	-/1s/8d	42c
Leads, Pencil	-/2s/-	50c
Mechanical (Propelling) Pencil	-/-/9½d	20c
Movie Camera*	£17/16s/-	$89
Spyglass	£3/-/-	$15.00
View Camera w/ Tripod	£5/19s/½	$29.75
Writing Tablet/Sketch Block*	-/-/9½d	20c
Writing Tablet	-/-/2d	4c

*These items are only available in the 1920s era

Seventh Issue: Getting It All There

This, surprisingly, is not as difficult as it might seem. At this time, the network of railways and shipping lanes was widespread and generally efficient, and companies made a living by getting a tourist’s boxes and chattels where they needed to be. All it takes is an itinerary and some idea of the weight. Supplies are shipped by the “hundredweight” (cwt), which means the charge is levied for each hundred pounds or portion thereof.

Handled Bag (8lbs)	£1/9s/9½d	$7.45
Kit Bag (27”x20”)	-/4s/9½d	$1.20
Leather Gladstone Bag (8lbs)	-/10s/-	$2.50
Full-size Trunk (85lbs)	£1/3s/9½d	$5.95
Packing Trunk(40lbs)	-/15s/9½d	$3.95
Steamer Trunk (55lbs)	£2/15s/9½d	$13.95
Suitcase (15lbs)	£1/19s/9½d	$9.95

Obviously, if the party crates all of its gear together in one lump, the whole exercise is rendered more cost-effective. Still, accidents do happen and the group should make an averaged Luck Roll to ensure that everything arrives in good order. If this fails, roll on the following table to see what happens to the luggage:

D100 dice roll	Result
01-20%	The party’s entire shipment is sitting in a warehouse in Paris, overlooked by the luggage handlers due to miscommunication. Once its absence is noted and enquiries are made, it will be stowed on board the next available train to arrive 1D2 days later.
21-40%	The party’s entire shipment was placed upon the wrong train. It has been re-routed but will arrive 1D4 days later than expected.
41-60%	1D6 items of luggage were bumped to the next train due to space issues; the missing items will appear at their destination 1D2 days later than expected. Have players roll Luck: those that fail must roll Luck for all their possessions to see which items have been delayed.
61-80%	Customs agents have seized the party’s shipment; it will arrive 1D8 days later after having been opened and (badly) re-packed.
81-00%	1 item of luggage has been lost or stolen. Have players roll Luck: those that fail must roll Luck for all their possessions to see which items have gone missing.

Insurance is something that the party might want to look into...

Eighth Issue: Getting The Party There

The town of Chamonix in Switzerland is the nexus from which all Alpine travel takes place, and Whymper’s handy infographic above, shows the prices and durations of trips to there from many other locales. The cost of the fare from New York is omitted, as is – bizarrely – the fare from Madrid, but costs can be easily researched, or extrapolated from the information provided.

At this time, passports and visas were somewhat nebulous. People often travelled without them, but things could get tricky if someone – usually a railway inspector or customs officer – wanted to see one’s papers. Not having ID could get you locked up for a night while telephone calls were made to sort out who you were. Having such paperwork is obviously preferable to not having it, and, given the sorts of things that Investigators get up to, probably a wise investment.

From Chamonix, connexions are made to Viège (aka. Visp) and from there the Zermatt Railway delivers tourists at the base of the Matterhorn. The Zermatt Railway employs a singular third rail system which allows the track to rise very steep inclines without resorting to earthworks – cuttings and other such features of standard railway lines. When the gradient becomes too steep, a second engine takes over and winds the train up the third rail which has teeth like a cog. The train traverses the 35 miles from Visp to Zermatt at an average of 4 miles per hour and stops at all intermediate stations. At Visp, there is a connecting line to the Jura-Simplon Railway and the Zermatt Railway is occasionally delayed to allow those other trains right of way. These delays can be quite long.

Ninth Issue: Where To Stay

Once the party’s at Zermatt, the question becomes relatively moot. The town consists mostly of hotels, designed to cater to the influx of tourists which starts in late May and continues to late August. The main concern is that of booking ahead, and here Whymper’s Guide comes into its own. The book is full of details about all of the hotels, the state of the rooms, the quality of the service and their proximity to the many local walks – no detail escaped the eagle-eyed Mr. Whymper! It’s probably best to let the adverts speak for themselves:

*****

That’s it then: you’ve arrived safely in Zermatt! What happens next is up to your Keeper, who – no doubt – will have something evil planned. Other locales across the globe may not be so well catered-for as the Swiss Alps, but this overview of the process of getting across the planet with all one’s equipment should act as a handy template for the kind of planning involved. It’s certainly more time-consuming than typing up a website and entering your credit card digits, but then, recreating a past time is what “Call of Cthulhu” is all about!