The Portal at Hill House
Hey there, been a long time.
Anyway.
I’m playing The Portal at Hill House and figured I don’t need to keep it to myself. I’m deviating a little bit, which you’ll see in the setup. Away we go.
Intro
The house draws me to it. The journey was long, the highway giving way to roads giving way to ruts through the woods until finally my car and the road sputtered to a halt. I grab my gear and set off through the woods, following game trails when I can and trying to avoid the worst of the bramble and bush when I can’t. Eventually the forest gives way, a gap in the trees opening on the sun setting over a hill and the broken down single wide trailer that sits atop it. This was Hill House? I could feel its pull still, so it had to be. I approach, picking my way up the hill, following the weed-choked remnants of a crushed limestone driveway that sprung up from the grass. Then, a bright flash blows apart the dusk sky. A large rip appears—purple and beautiful and terrifying. It’s repellent. I want to run. I can’t. I’m drawn to it and the trailer beneath it. Dread pulses through me. It must be closed. I know, somehow, that I must enter the house to do so.
Setup
How many stories does Hill House have?
One
What does the outward face look like?
Hill House is a misnomer. Here in the middle of nowhere, past the tangle of woods through which no roads lead, is a lone single-wide trailer. Whatever color the siding used to be is now hidden beneath a patina of green and black mildew and mold. The windows remain unbroken somehow, but the same grime has overtaken them, blocking any glimpse of what may be inside. The slotted wood that guards the crawlspace has gone to rot. A screened in porch obscures the front door. Once potted plants have defied odds and grown wild in this enclosed space.
Are there any other areas outside the house?
A carport stands off to the side of the trailer, above a crushed limestone driveway that extends a short ways towards the forest before petering out and giving way to grass and weeds. There is no car, but some junk and tools have been left here. Perhaps in the hope that they would be somewhat safe from the rain?
A rusty shed, garden, and greenhouse in the back yard.
How old do you think the house is?
At least sixty years old.
What is unusual, if anything?
A single palm tree in the front yard, tall and leaning. It suits neither the weather nor the forest that surrounds the trailer.
The Items:
Material Object
Four - Candles - Hearts
Ancient Element
Four - Saltpeter - Clubs
Arcane Artifact
Six - Flame of Fhu - Diamonds
Play
Room 1 - Porch
Cards Drawn: Ace of Hearts, Ace of Clubs, 7 of Diamonds
Ambience: Silent, Tense
Objects in Location: An upright piano.
Condition of Location: A corner in the ceiling is covered in mold.
The screen door opens with uncharacteristic ease for something so rusty. I step onto the porch and into dirt instead of the concrete pad I was expecting. The wild growth of formerly potted plants is probably the culprit. I’d have expected them to shrivel and die here, but the plastic and clay that once held their roots have long-since exploded. Little patches of waterproof plastic carpet poke up through the dirt like little hills here and there. Overgrown as the porch might be, there is a clear path to the front door. It reminds me of a game trail. The door clicks shut behind me, the soft sound of it amplified and startling in the suffocating silence that I’ve stepped into. The plants are suddenly very close to me, the leaves rattling in a breeze that I can neither feel nor hear. Could the density of them be insulating the area?
I shake it off or manage to convince myself that I have and head toward the door. Through the leaves, I manage to spot a couple of things. One makes sense; a green-black expanse of mold spreading out from one corner of the roof. Droplets of water drip drip drip down, somehow making no sound as they fall among the leaves and to the ground. The other makes less sense; a large, upright piano. I don’t know much about pianos, but I figure they probably shouldn’t be left to the weather on a screened in porch. Then again, this whole place makes no sense.
I reach for the door handle, give it a twist.
Room 3 - Living Room
Cards Drawn: 4 of Hearts, 6 of Clubs, Queen of Diamonds
Ambience: Ignored — Candles found.
Objects in Location: A round table covered in an old, ragged cloth.
Condition of Location: Ground is covered in papers.
The groan of the front door opening splits the silence. Air rushes past me and into the trailer, as if it had taken a sharp, gasping breath. I pause for a few heartbeats, anticipating an exhale that never comes.
My hand searches for a light switch as I step into the living room and I don’t have time to question the action. There’s a click and, against all odds, a lamp in the corner of the room comes to life with a dull, flickering glow.
I grew up in a trailer like this. One of many homes I’ve had over the years. I am familiar with the layout—this mishmash of living room, kitchen, and dining room. The latter two separated from the former by a strip of something to cover the transition from burgundy shag carpet to peeling linoleum. I focus on the living room.
Yellowing sheets of paper have been scattered across the carpet. I can make out handwriting on some pages and type on the next. Something to check out, but I don’t want to linger yet. A plush couch matching the color of the carpet slumps against one of the wood grain laminate walls. Across from it, toward the dining room, there’s a wooden monstrosity with a television mounted dead center. And between the television and the couch, a round coffee table covered in an old, ragged cloth, years of dust, and a trio of candles melted to varying lengths.
Something about those candles is familiar. The sight of them makes my brain itch. I stagger forward, sinking into carpet, crinkling pages of whatever beneath my steps. I take the candles. They feel important. Necessary. I know, somehow, that they will play a role in closing the portal.
This was great! Thank you!