Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori [IC]

[Penril]

London, April 13th 1923.

5pm in the afternoon and London is covered by heavy, black clouds. Heavy rain drums on the roof tiles and windows, flowing freely down the street and into the gutters. The streets of Soho are empty, save for a few brave souls under black umbrellas. Occasionally, an automobile or carriage causes a wake in the soaking street, which washes up on the pavement slabs.

Rhowan
Inside his warm, quiet workshop, Rhowan Delvin looks up from the watch he is working on at the sound of the back door opening and closing. Mr Goldsmith has returned home. The tall, thin man pokes his head around the door. "Good evening, sir." he says, and makes his way upstairs before you can answer. As you hear him tread carefully up each step and finally the tell-tale sound of the heavy door to the third floor close, you here a knock at your store front door.

Jonathan
Your recent interview with your new order seems to already be yielding fruit, in spite of your inexperience. On the mat this morning was a letter, written in Greek and bearing a seal of your esteemed brethren. The contents read thus:

Dear Mr Langston,

No doubt, you are aware that our Order is one of much exclusivity and mentioning the contents of this letter to anyone will result in the sternest of rebukes.

Prior to our next meeting, we expect you to have studied one of our particular texts. The text in question is entitled Experimentarius and is a detailed account of basic geomancy. The text can be found in the Royal Society library. However, in order to access this sacred text, you must follow these instructions:
1) Travel to the Royal Society between the hours of 4 o'clock in the evening and midnight.
2) Approach not the librarian, but rather the librarian's assistant and request book reference Q17:47.

Once you have finished your review of the text, return it to its rightful place and meditate on the lessons you have learned.

Until our next encounter,

- AZ

Chester

Today has been a slow day of kicking around the office and catching up on the paper work. The sound of the rain on the window is almost hypnotic as you concentrate on the pen scratching across the page. You almost jump out of your skin when the door knocks loudly and urgently.

((Roninkelt, I'll allow you to start whereever you fancy in London, doing what you will and i'll tie you all together as we go))

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Jonathan sighs again as the rain continued to pour down. Checking his pocket watch, he defiantly hoists his umbrella and marches out to face the storm. His tutoring session with Miss Florence Kent can't be put aside for a mere meteorological inconvenience. Her parents are convinced that she is the next "Great Poet of Our Age" and so she must be taught and refined.

Now, admittedly, she had some talent, but her belief that she was God's gift to poetry was entirely detrimental to the development of that talent. She had no subtlety and no ability to grasp the abstract, let alone to attempt to purify and expound upon such concepts in verse!

Still, despite the dreary details of his mundane reality, inwardly Jonathan felt a great deal of contentment--and a greater deal of hunger.

He had been accepted into the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, that grand and powerful group of Mystics and Magicians who held a great and deep appreciation of the Universe's workings! He was close to such great knowledge, and desired to grow closer still. To master the Occult arts, to be a man in two worlds. A nexus of the physical and metaphysical.

Still, he first had to teach pretty Miss Kent how to write poems. The session should be done by seven o'clock. After that, he would have to take a jaunt on down to the Royal Library.

Finally arriving at the Kent's manor, Mr. Langston's knock was answered by a well groomed Nubian butler.

"Hello, Roger. Time for another lesson Is Miss Kent in the study?"

[roninkelt]

Artur

pulls his greatcoat closer shaking his head at the foul weather. Limping down the street towards the National Museum, his cane clicking against the pavement. Six years since being wounded and his leg still hurt when it rained. Turning up the steps into the front gallery of the museum, he presented himself at the front desk.

"Good sir, if you might direct me to the curator's office." His strong german accent and growling voice never failed to draw attention in this city...

Artur carefully withdraws a brief from within his coat and prepares to present his letter of introduction. Hoping that it will be sufficient to gain access to the restricted collection. He has heard that the National Museum had posession of several items which may contain clues to the location of his quest. Records from the mid 8th century Moorish conquest of Northern Africa.

[Diakos]

Rhowan Delvin

Enjoying his tea, the warmth of the stove and quiet tapping of rain on the window, Rhowan barely notices Mr. Goldsmith's return, but mumbles a greeting and nods in his direction.
At the sound of the knocking Rhowan looks up from the innards of a pocketwatch, and mumbles
"Hmm? what's all this milling about now?"
He then grabs his cane and walks to the counter, and after making sure the Tranter's in its right place, shouts
"Come on in, S' open"
mubling
"Wonder o'd be nockin' at a shop door, 'ell who'd be daft enough t' stand out in this weather"

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*Hmm, a visitor, on a day like today, seems odd. No one would want to tolerate this insufferable weather. Unless they were in danger. Something dangerous only a guy like me could handle. The kind of danger you could tell the cops about, but they wouldn't care. Some supernatural danger... Today's gonna be a good day, I can feel it in my bones.*

Chester then pulls himself out of his chair and places his hat on his head. After giving himself a final lookover in his mirror to see if he is presentable enough for a client, he opens the door abruptly.

Yes?

[Penril]

Jonathan

"Indeed, sir" replies the butler, stepping aside to all you into the hallway. He takes your coat and you make your way through the large, eerie house. You know that there must be other people in this house, but owing to its size, it could take some time to find anyone. You make your way up the wide, carpeted stairs and finally reach the door of the study.

Artur

The old porter behind the desk looks at the letter for a long time, then back at you with a suspicious eye you have come to tolerate before finally saying "wait 'ere and I'll go see if 'e's h'avilable" The man shuffles off and leaves you waiting for a time before returning. "You know the way?" he asks as he settles back into his chair at the desk, in spite you already asking for directions. "N'ah, I don't 'spect you do" he continues without an answer, an irritating grin appearing on his wrinkled face. "Down the 'all, through the new Egyptian h'exibit, past the big boat thing and through the door. Up the stairs, room 203."

Rhowan
The door opens slowly and a gust of wind rattles your tools and splashes some of the closer time pieces with a few drops of rain. The figure in the door way is about 5' 4'', but something about the withdrawn look and long, wet hair makes this woman look smaller. You notice immediately that she is drenched, wearing no coat or hat, but a pair of gentleman's pyjamas over a white lab coat, barely adequate to fend off a light drizzle, let alone the maelstrom outside. As she steps into the shop, she wipes some of her soaking, black hair from her eyes, which you notice have heavy bags under them, and asking in a whispery voice: "D-Does Mr Goldsmith reside here, sir?" She is now starting in the middle of the shop, a puddle forming around her feet as she chews a thumb nail and avoids eye contact.

Chester
A large, balding man of middle age almost falls through the door as you open it. "Sir!" he gasps, "Come quick, there's a bloke wot's bin stuck, right out in the street! I saw 'im sir!" the man babbles "'e only asked this gent some question or other and the gent stabbed 'im! I were in the shop ov'r the road at the time, on account of me pickin' up some confection f'er the ... er ... wife" at this, you notice a soggy box of fine chocolates from the shop across the street. "Anyway, come quick, he's not looking good!" the man grabs your arm and drags you out of your office.

[Diakos]

Rhowan

For a moment Rhowan stares flabbergasted at the woman, her attire, state of same, and the growing puddle beneath her, then quickly composes himself.
"Mr.. Goldsmith... Oh yes, he lives in this building, third floor, first door on the..."
Rhowan sighs and runs his hand through his hair, then looks to her.
"I'll show you the way, bolt th' door behind you if you please, wouldn't want t' leave th' store unattended n' unlocked"
Having said that he takes a firmer grip on his cane and turn towards the stairs, giving them a harsh glare and stars to walk towards them.
"This way mad'm"
Turning to see if she has bolted the door as asked he quickly remarks
"Name's Rhowan by the way, Rhowan Delvin, what d' you go by, f' i may ask?"

[Penril]

Rhowan

The girl turns quickly, as if she has never seen the door before, and pulls the bolt across, before following you up the stairs. She moves with an unsteady, swaying gait and appears to be tired when you reach the halfway point of this stair case. However, the white knuckle grip she has on the banister and the deliberate steps show you that she is determined to reach the top, despite her obvious weakness. "Name?" She asks as if trying to remember the answer "I remember ... Valerie"

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester checks briefly under his arm to see if he can feel his gun.

One moment sir.

Chester runs back inside, pulls his gun out of his desk, throws his jacket on, and slams the door locked behind him. As they reach the bottom of the staircase Chester pushes the middle aged man out of his way as he thrusts the door open, gun drawn.

Freeze! Chester Gould, P.I.

[Penril]

Chester

The rain soaks you in a second as you look out across the street to the sad-looking heap on the pavement. There is no one else in the street at the moment. As you make your way over to the body, you realise that the man is still alive, though barely.

((Dustfinger, could I trouble you for an Investigation check))

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Straightening his hair and fussing with his jacket to make sure that he's presentable, Jonathan knocks at the study.

Hello Miss Kent. I trust you've been studying?

His cold tone reflects his belief in the foolishness of camaraderie between master and student.

This next part only happens at the DM's discretion, I'm uncertain how much of the lesson he wants me to RP.

The lesson passes uneventfully, as always. While Florence had a excellent command of the English language, and was rapidly mastering French and Latin, she appeared unable to grasp the relatively simple concept that poetry can express the unsaid, or that a rose isn't always just a fragrant red flower.

Finally, after an unbearable amount of normalcy, Langston escaped in the soggy night. Checking his watch, the time was 7PM. Just the time to read a good book, especially with this weather.

Upon arriving at the Royal Society library, Jonathan refused the librarians offer for help, claiming, "Sir, what sort of scholar would I be if I were unable to find my way around a library unaided?"

Once the librarian left him alone, Mr. Langston began to search for the assistant.

[Penril]

((I'll go easy on ya, that's fine :smallbiggrin: ))

Jonathan

After a minute or so of wandering the high shelves, you find a very worried looking individual starding next to a trolley of books. He is looking around in all directions and is wringing a hankerchief around in his hands. Worryingly, he seems to recognise you as you peer into the row of shelves and gasps with relief "Thank God you're here!" he says, stepping towards you and shaking your hand. His weak grip is clammy with sweat. "I know I have to respect etticete and so forth, but this is an exceptional circumstance! I didn't know what to do, this has never happened before! I blocked off the area and waited for one of you to arrive to take a look." He suddenly has some kind of realisation and looks turely afraid "I ... I swear to you, sir, I had no hand in this, no one from the outside could have known, I've told no one I swear!" He is backing back down the row of shelves at this point, clearly fearful for some kind of retribution from you.

[roninkelt]

Artur

carefully returns his letter to the brief then sketches a bow to the porter before turning to follow the directions to room 203. The heel of his cane ticks loudly, echoing in the quiet hallways.

Rap sharply, twice, on door 203 before entering and presenting himself to the curator or his secretary, whomever is in the outer room.

[Lepre_Khan]

((OOC Easy on me? Bah! I'm going easy on YOU, skipping through excessive fluff and going straight to the story! :smalltongue: ))

Jonathan Langston

Calm yourself. You were entrusted with your role because you were found to be trustworthy. Do not disappoint.

Now, what is your name?

((I assume he gives it to me))

[Name], tell me what has happened. Start at the beginning and spare me no detail.

Doing his best to remain outwardly calm, inwardly Langston was furious. This was to have been his moment! This was to have been the hour in which he began to seriously initiate himself into the Secrets. Secrets that had for so long been repressed by the superstitious and cowardly persons of the earth. Yet now the moment is delayed on account of some page? Had he lost the book?

It appears that, truly, all is Below as it is Above. Even the Omnipotent has incompetent and treasonous servants, I suppose it is the height of human arrogance to demand more. Never the less, the Order shall hear of this page boys incompetence.

Will save to keep up the calm appearance.
[roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

[roll0]

Chester peers around the streets looking for any trace of man who did this.
He then turns to the man who brought him down the stairs, and says,

Go to the general store around the corner and get some gauze and have them alert the nearest hospital.

Sir, who did this to you? And don't worry help is on the way.

[Penril]

Artur

The curator’s office is full of books and artefacts and paperwork, piled on every surface, including the floor. A single gas lamp offers meagre illumination to the scene. You don't immediately see anyone, but a voice behind a pile of books ahead of you says "Ah, you must be the fellow from down stairs, come in, please" The voice has a strong, northern accent. You pick your way around teetering piles of books and old paintings to the other side of the desk, where you see a small man, hunched over the desk and peering intently at a shard of pottery. The man is bald and round, wears an old shirt and crumpled tie and small round glasses. He looks up at you and smiles warmly. "Always pleased to meet a fellow historian, Nigel Barkley," he says, shaking your hand "and which of my curios would you like to examine, sir?"

Jonathan

"My name is Tim, sir, Tim Chalice." The assistant runs his fingers through his hair and tries to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, he explains the events of the past few hours. "Well, I received word of your arrival in the usual manner ... um, the return of the First Edition Divine Comedy, just here," he points to his trolley to a small, grey book. "I went about the usual preparations, got the room read for your visit, and waited for your arrival. Ten minutes ago, I just went back to make sure all was ready and, by chance, happened to glance into the Exclusive Collection, that's the room where all your books will be, and noticed something unusual." He pauses for a moment, frowning as he tries to remember something "I couldn’t say what it was, perhaps a movement, a shadow, something wasn't right. So I went in to investigate, when I noticed that a book was missing! Such a thing has never happened before; I didn't know what to do. Then, I heard a noise by the door. To my shame, I admit that I panicked, thinking that the thief was still in the secret rooms somewhere, so I ran for it, pulled the bookcase back across and sealed the door! I haven't been back in since, I thought I'd wait for you to arrive, I just didn't know what to do! I think I locked him in there!"

The assistant leans on the adjacent shelf, trembling with the memory and looks at you pleadingly. "Please sir, what shall we do? The Hidden Stair is at the end of the row here," he points past the trolley to the end of the row, where you see another bookcase creating a dead-end "just pull the green book on the third shelf to gain access the lower floors."

Chester

The man hurries off, relieved. Taking orders is always easier than issuing them. A quick assessment of the stricken man immediately indicates several clues. First off, the man has been stabbed 4 times in the chest. They are deep, but slim cuts that are irregular in shape, as if the assailant had used jagged shard of metal, rather than a straight knife. Looking around, you can see no sign of the culprit and the rain was washed away any footprints the pavement may have left. "He came ... he came out of no-where ..." the man says, gasping for breath "I didn't see him and then ... he bumped into me ... and then ..." he convulses with pain and groans before falling silent.

[Dustfinger]

*Why would someone stab him, with no confrontation, no cause, no purpose. I believe this is no ordinary stabbing. Only some cold hearted killer could have done something like this. Who are you?*

Chester then rifles through the mans pockets looking for any form of identification. Or anything that could clue to why someone would do this.

[roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Jonathan sits silently for a moment, staring at Tim; weighing his words against what he knew of the Order.

Could this be some test? Designed to show how well I obey orders?

Sense Motive [roll0]

I'm really going for just a general feel of Tim, not necessarily looking just for a lie. But perhaps something left out.

[Penril]

Chester

A search in the man's pockets reveals a wallet and a Labour Union card, which identifies the man as one John Humphries. the wallet contains a few pound notes and nothing much else. As you are going through the wallet, the man drifts back into consciousness and mutters "He said ... he said 'no witnesses' and vanished like ... like the fog ..."

Jonathan

You sense no deception from the man's account of the situation. Given what you know of the usually highly organised Order and the way they work, this may indeed just be a genuinely unique coincidence, rather than an elaborate test. On the other hand, it is either that, or someone who is either a) part of the Order and does not ant to go through the proper channels to obtain this book or b) an outsider with a worrying insight into your Order's affairs and secrets.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Very well. Mr. Chalice, come with me. We have a thief to apprehend.

So saying, Mr. Langston strides over and firmly pulls on the green book that had been pointed out.

[Diakos]

Rhowan Delvin

Halfway op the stairs to the second floor Rhowan turns to face Valerie, and seeing her struggle climbing the stairs, a worried frown spreads on his brow.
“Miss… Valerie? Are you quite allright? If your feeling poorly you can sit here n’ I’ll go fetch ‘m”
Rhowan again notices her haphazard attire.
“...But I take it your errand 's quite urgent, t' be runnin' 'bout this foul weather in those clothes n' naught more”

[Penril]

Jonathan

There is a click and the bookcase open outwards, revealing a narrow corridor. Several gas lamps on the wood panel walls illuminate the passage, which continues around a left-hand bend some 10 or so feet away. The floor is luxuriously covered with a deep, red carpet.

Rhowan

"I'll be fine ..." replies the girl in her whispery voice "I must see him, alone." You reach the top of the stairs and the large, black door, which leads into the top floor apartment. You realise that you have never seen the top floor before, indeed, this is the first time you have been up these stairs. You knock on the large, black door and Mr Goldsmith answers. He is wearing his usual suit and tie. He is clearly surprised by your visit and more so by your strange, bedraggled companion. "Yes, Mr Delvin, is there something I can help you with? Who is this young lady?"

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Jonathan strides forth confidently down the corridor, before turning back to the frightened assistant,

"You are coming, are you not Mr. Chalice?"

Ensuring that the page was, in fact, coming, Mr. Langston turns the corner. Here, finally, he would see how his dreams matched up against reality. The room of ancient and terrible lore that had haunted his sleep lay open before him, despoiled by a thief or...worse...a Judas. Filled with disgust, Jonathan Langston peered about, hefting his cane.

Spot [roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

What did this man look like, and what did you see? Sir please try and stay awake. If you fall asleep, you may not live to see tomorrow.

[Penril]

Jonathan

Around the corner is a large, luxuriously furnished room. Six large, red leather armchairs are positioned around a low, varnished mahogany table in the centre of the room. Next to one of the chairs is a smoking rack, which holds several beautiful pipes. On the table is a brilliant crystal decanter and collection of glasses that sparkle in the firelight which lays crackling in the enormous fireplace on the opposite wall to where you now stand. Above the fireplace is a impressive image of the Rosy Cross of the Golden Dawn. Along the wall to your left and right extend, from ceiling to floor, rows of large, leather bound tomes. An enormous, golden pictureframe, covers the entire left hand wall encases a series of occult symbols ranging from the curious type of the legendary Ciphers to complicated, geometric patterns and equasions. The right hand wall is bare, besides the wooden panelling, identical to that of the corridor behind you. A quick look around the room indicates that there is no one in here. To the right of the fireplace is a large, wooden door, which is slightly ajar.

((Listen check please, sir))

Chester

"Nothing ... he suddenly appeared, I must have bumped into him ... he ..." his shaky description is interupted as he cries out in pain and coughs a bloody cough "I'm done ... damnation! ..." His brow furrows as his suddenly remembers some detail "Library, he was going to ... Library ... had a map to it, I ..." The man stops in mid sentance and looks confused for a moment and then the light flades slowly from his eyes, like the blood that soaks his shirt and he dies. Despite yourself, you sudder as you realise that the man is now dead.

((Roll a Sanity Check (d100) please, Mr Gould))

[Diakos]

Rhowan

"Ah no, Miss Valerie here came to see you, and i was showing her the way"
After a brief pause
"Well I'll leave you to talk, Good day Mr. Goldsmith, Miss Valerie"
Rhowan turns, takes a deep breath and begins to descend the stairs

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*No matter how many times you see a man die, it always hurts. You can never fully callous yourself to something like this. How could I let this man die in my arms? Her did nothing, and had to die, yet so many men have killed, and they walk the streets unscathed. No, not again, I refuse to let more die while I still breathe air.*

With that Chester places the mans wallet back in his pocket and runs towards the library at top speed. He yells to the first person he sees that

When the police come, tell them Chester Gould has to talk to them about Mr. Humphries. Also, tell them the culprit fled to the library.

*I have a sinking feeling I may be too late.*


[roll0]

[Penril]

Rhowan

"Well, let's get you inside then shall we? Would you like some tea Miss ... Valerie was it?" Mr Goldsmith hold the door open for Valerie and she makes her way inside and the large, black down is pushed shut.

You descend the stairs, unbolt the door and return to your work. On the ground floor, you can hear nothing more than the drumming of the rain and the ticking of the clock. After ten minutes or so, the door crashes open and a figure bursts into the room! His wet, curly hair sticks to his forehead and his overcoat is soaked through with the rain. He holds something in his hand, about the size of a large pocket watch. He holds it out in front of him, like a shaman warding off some ethereal spirit. "Are you Mr Goldsmith?" he asks. His accent is clearly English, well-spoken and not local. Possibly somewhere further south, however.

Chester

Rain blurs your vision as you run full pelt toward the nearest library. Your knowledge of the city draws a mental map in your mind and you navigate the streets with ease. After several minutes of running, you career around the next corner and spot your destination, The Royal Institute Library building. However, as you approach you notice ...

((Spot check please, things are about to happen in the street))

[Penril]

((Chester, [roll0] reduce your current sanity by this much))

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Listen [roll0]

[Penril]

Jonathan

The room is silent, but for the crackling of the fire in the grate. Tim peers nervously over your shoulder into the room, but keeps quiet.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Stunned by the rooms grandeur and power--grander even than his dreams--Jonathan briefly lowers his head in a prayer of thanks to the Omnipotence.

Divine Weaver of Patterns, I thank you for your magnanimity. I, your humble servant, shall serve you with all the secrets that You are willing to reveal. Omnipotent Other, I am forever Yours.

Recovering, Langston quietly crosses the room and pokes open the door besides the fireplace, peering inside.

Move Silently [roll0]

[Penril]

Jonathan

As you peer through the door, you catch a glimpse of and equally grander room to the one you were in. However, before you can take in any more, you sense a rush of movement infront of you and suddenly a man appears as if he had dropped out of the sky! He growls and tries to shove his way past you.

((Roll Initiative, then choose whether to move out of the man's way or block him. Should you choose to block him, make a Dex or Str check {whichever is higher} FYI, behind you, the door out to the corridor is open and not blocked by Tim, he is by one of the chairs at the moment))

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Dropping the timepiece he was working on, a surprised Rhowan turns to face the stranger, while small gears and springs scatter across the shop floor.
Reaching under the counter to (again) check that the Tranter is in it's place, Rhowan locks gazes with the man.
"No I am not. I am Mr. Delvin th' watchmaker, an' this is my shop.
If you tell me your business with Mr. Goldsmith I'll show you to him, otherwise i suggest you leave!"
After a second of silence Rhowan looks over the man and sighs
"Sorry about bein' so brash, but with yeh crashing through th' door I a moment thought you a robber, and nearly cut yeh time short"

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Init [roll0]
Dex [roll1]

I'm blocking.

Startled by the apparition, Langston instinctively flinches back before courage returns and he, foolishly, attempts to prevent the thief's escape.

[Penril]

Rhowan

The man is clearly in a hurry, he walks quickly across the room towards you, pocketing the trinket and saying "Where is he?! Is he okay?! His life is in danger, I have to warn him!" You can see the real worry on his face, whatever is going on, it's certainly very serious. Under his soaking overcoat he is dressed in a shirt and black waistcoat. His necktie is hanging loosly around his neck. His suit trousers are soaked with the rain and his old, but clearly hardwearing pair of black shoes squelch loudly.

[Penril]

Jonathan

The man's legs taggle in your cane as he tries to shove past you and he falls at your feet with a howl. Only now do you realise that he has some sort of short blade strapped to his wrist and you have narrowly avoided a serious injury.

Initiative order = Bad Guy, Jonathan, Tim

As the man hits the ground, he tugs a pistol from his coat with a free hand points it at you. "Let us out and I won't have to blow ya' away!" he snarls from his prone position and he starts to get to his feet.

[Diakos]

"In danger?... Third floor, Black door, stairs back there.
Oh! you might want to knock, he's already got a guest, some young lady"
Having said that Rhowan begins looking over the floor, looking for the watch's innards.
"Came in not long ago, seemed quite urgent"

[Penril]

Rhowan

The man is already at the stairs before you finish your sentence but stops suddenly and turns back to you, a look of horror on his face. "Dear God, no! I'm too late! They put her away for good this time, for sure! It wasn't suposed to happen like this!" he pauses now and looks very worried, then appears to make a decision. "You say you have a gun? Follow me, I imagine we're going to need it." He turns away from you and bounds up the stairs, two at a time.

[Diakos]

Rhowan

"Put her away?.. Oh, Bloody hell!"
Rhowan rushes to the counter and picks up the Tranter, then throws a quick glance to the door, but ignores it and rushes up the stairs after the man
"GOD! Why me? Fire, Robbers and now this... CAC CAPAILL!"
As he rushers up the stairs his cane furiously thumps the steps.
"Go hifreann leat! Bloody stairs!"

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Raising his hands in a non-threatening manner, Langston tried to calm the gentleman down.

"Now sir, that's hardly necessary. I was simply coming to read a book, hardly the sort of thing one should shoot a brother over. Besides, I'll have you know, there are senior members of our Order waiting outside. Any rash actions could have consequences."

Sense Motive [roll0]
Bluff [roll1]

[roninkelt]

Artur


Artur

The curator’s office is full of books and artefacts and paperwork, piled on every surface, including the floor. A single gas lamp offers meagre illumination to the scene. You don't immediately see anyone, but a voice behind a pile of books ahead of you says "Ah, you must be the fellow from down stairs, come in, please" The voice has a strong, northern accent. You pick your way around teetering piles of books and old paintings to the other side of the desk, where you see a small man, hunched over the desk and peering intently at a shard of pottery. The man is bald and round, wears an old shirt and crumpled tie and small round glasses. He looks up at you and smiles warmly. "Always pleased to meet a fellow historian, Nigel Barkley," he says, shaking your hand "and which of my curios would you like to examine, sir?"


"Herr Barkley, the pleasure is mine.

I have heard that you have documents dating from the Moorish conquest of Nubia. The ones I'm looking for refer to the location of a lost settlement in the deserts west of the upper nile and north of the trade route between Khartoum and N'Djamena."

Artur will pull a sketch map of the region from his brief as well as another with the names of the documents written in arabic.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*I get to the library out of breath and peer around. I have a bad feeling about this.*

[roll0]
If the "something" that is about to happen is threatening, I will draw my gun.

[Penril]

Rhowan

You make your way up the stairs and find the damp stranger standing outside the big, black door. He presses an ear up against it and the turns back to you. "Please, don't shoot to kill. No matter what happens, please, I can save her" his voice is heavy with emotion. He turns away and kicks the door open. The corridor beyond is dark, very dark. As you try to penetrate the inky blackness, you realise that this is not like normal absence of light, but an eerie, tangible darkness, thick and enveloping. Felix swallows and disappears into the gloom.

((roll a Sanity check please))

Mr Langston

"Our Order?" the thief spits "I don't care about your stinkin' Order. All I care about is getting out of here and getting paid!" You immediately see through his bravado and the quaver in his voice suggests he believes that back up is on the way. "Still, let's see your buddies catch me now!" he cries as he turns and runs back through the room to a small window on the opposite wall. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realise what this mad man is about to do! ...

Artur

"Ah, a most interesting subject, yes, we have plenty of source material on this era. A lot of it is very new. Why, we had an expedition return only a fortnight ago from North Africa. All their documents are in the boxes in the back, the other archives are on the shelves under reference ..." he rifles through a heap of loose paper on his desk "Ah yes, 23:7A, that's the forth set of shelves I believe, all in the back." He points to a small door behind him.

((During your hunt for useful info, roll a Research check and add +4 given your extensive resources))

Chester

The silence of the street is broken by a crash coming from above! You see a figure leaping through the air from a broken window, 2 storeys up. As he sails through the air, he seems to fade away, like some sort of apparition. As you follow the likely trajectory you hear a groan and the figure appears suddenly on the high wall that borders the library, then tumbles to the wet ground some 80ft ahead of you.

((Roll initiative Chester))

Mr Langston

You dash over to the broken window and see the figure on the pavement beyond the wall, some twenty feet below. He looks to still be alive and is struggling to get to his feet.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Langston rushes over to the window and shouts out, Stop that man! He's a thief!

Btw, Penril, I didn't mind the 'Jonathan'. I just thought the 'Mr. Langston' seemed stuffier. More towards Mr. Norrell than Jonathan Strange.

[Diakos]

((Sanity check [roll0]))

[Penril]

Rhowan

Sanity loss: [roll0] Your very soul seems to darken as you step into the corridor. As you pass the threshold, darkness envelops you and no light from the stairs penetrates the upper floor. You can just about make out the shape of the corridor in the gloom ahead.

[roninkelt]

Artur

[roll0]

Artur has found that this particular settlement was destroyed by fearful locals during the chaos of the invasions. Supposedly there was a cave complex under the salt pans where a sect had hidden its artifacts. Artur is hoping to find the caves, the settlement and artifacts, but right now is just after the location of the settlement.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Sir, stop in the name of the law. Please put your hands on your head and get on the ground now. I do not want to have to shoot you sir.

Chester points his gun at the man and hustles towards him.

[roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Alright Mr. Chalice, the police should have things under control now. Close up our chambers, I'll go out and talk to the detective.

Turning to leave Langston adds, "Oh, by the by, could you set aside book Q17:47 for me please? I'll take a look at it once this unforutunate incident is cleared up."

So saying, he calmly heads leaves the hidden chambers and heads towards the front door.

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Surrounded by the unnatural darkness Rhowan loses some of his previous determination, but steadies himself, takes a tighter grip on the revolver and presses on through the dark mire.
Mumbling some half-legible curses to suppress a growing feeling of drowning in the darkness
"Damnú! What is with this? It's not natural! "
Increasing his pace to get through the hallway as fast as he can, but without making unnecessary noise, Rhowan does his best to avoid tripping over potential obstacles

[Machiavelli]

Languidly lying on a divan in his apartment, James Miller stares blankly at the nervous shifting dockhand before him. The remnants of hours of drinking and chain smoking littering the persian carpet around him. He inspects his nails casually, berating the man before him with little interest.
So, Mr. John Haym, according to your report, a Simon Kissinger will arrive on an unknown American ocean liner, in London, at which dock you don't know, on a date that you don't know on a time you don't know. The only thing that you do know is that he will arrive sometime in the next two weeks. You don't know what his business is, whether or not he is alone, or who he is meeting. It's a pity I've already paid you. I don't blame you for trying to earn money on the side and I applaud you for managing to discover what you did, but this really doesn't help me at all. Oh well, be on your way.

Miller gestures towards the door in dismissal and walks off to his study to read a letter from another contact.

[Penril]

Artur

You find the location of a series of caves detailed in the notes from the recent expedition to the region, although the findings are not inspiring. The caves were found by chance, when one of the explorers fell through a weak point in the roof of one of the caverns. It appears that the team found the caves to have been looted by a platoon of Italian soldiers during the War, however, what they were doing there and where they went are not detailed. There are comments of a few pieces of equipment left behind as well as, chillingly, a few corpses.

Chester

((Make a Spot check))

The figure gets to his feet, slowly and tosses a gun and a knife into the middle of the street, some 10ft away from him. He puts his right hand behind his head, his left appears damaged by the fall and he struggles to lift it.

Jonathan

You leave the assistant to his duties and make your way out, however, before you leave, something catches your eye.

((Spot check please.))

Rhowan

You are beginning to get the feeling that these rooms are laid out in the same way as your own. As you pass one threshold, you hear a sound coming from within. Inside, you can make out three shadowy forms. The sounds coming from within may be voices, but in this gloom, they sound muted, as though you were immersed in water.

((Listen check and Initiative please))

James

((Introduce yourself on the OOC thread at some point please.))

The letter from the second contact is somewhat more inspiring, but not without its own complications. It would appear that the man you have tapped for infomation was on the payroll of one Mr S Kissinger, to amend the shipping rosters to make it look like the man was coming to London. Fortunately for you, your pocketbook is somewhat weightier than your enemy's. You learn that Simon Kissinger and an entourage of 5 others (names you do not recognise) docked into Liverpool this very morning!

[Diakos]

Rhowan

((Initiative: [roll0]))
((Listen: [roll1]))

[Penril]

Rhowan

You can vaguely make out the idea of words being shouted but by whom and where you do not know. The nearest shadowy figure to you is standing in the same position your damp friend was when he burst into your shop, the furthest shadow appears to be very much smaller than the others, or possibly crouching and the third, the largest and most detailed shadow (even to the point where you can almost make out tiny points of blue light where eyes would be), stands in between the two, gesturing with wispy appendages.

((make a Will save and a Sanity check and your actions for this round of combat please.))

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Spot [roll0]

[Penril]

Jonathan

On the carpet by the door, you notice a crumpled piece of paper. It must have fallen out of the thief's pocket when you tripped him up. You smooth out the sheet, and read a handwritten note:

Richard,

Book reference: R1:47. Use the ring to ensure there are no witnesses,

Dr S.

The only other piece for infomation you glean from the page is that this paper has come from a series of pre-headed sheets. There, plain as day on the top of the paper in fine black print is an address.


Ashworth Mental Hospital
Parkbourn,
Maghull,
Liverpool,
Merseyside,
L31 1HW

[Diakos]

Rhowan

((Will: [roll0]))
((Sanity: [roll1]))
I walk into the room cautiously, whilst keeping a firm grip my cane and keeping the revolver along my side in a prepared and (hopefully) non-threatening manner.
If time allows, I attempt to get into a position where my view/distance to the figures is approximately equal ((like so, with the X'es being the figures and the * being me))
X

X___*

X

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Ok, I know I said I'd wait for others to post first but I figure this is so minor it doesn't matter. Feel free to disregard though.

Pocketing the paper, Langston continues on towards the front door.

[Penril]

Rhowan

As you move into position, the shadows around you seem to melt slowly away into nothingness and the room returns to some sort of normality, leaving you with a strange sense of the unreal. Were the shadows real? Where did they come from? What could have caused such a phenomenon?

The room is lit by a ceiling light, but the bulb is barely illuminating the room, as if it were starved of electricity. To your left, as you assumed, is the stranger and you see Mr Goldsmith lying on the floor to your right, not moving. In front of you stands Valerie, but she looks vastly different to the weak girl you met before. She stands up straight, in a threatening posture and you can sense the power and authority she commands. He eyes are glazed black and from her mouth speak numerous child-like voices speaking as one. "It was him! He did it all along and you knew! Why did you not tell us?! Why?! You will pay for the suffering we have had to endure because of your selfish attachment to this vessel!!" She finishes with a series of high-pitched shrieks and evokes a mass of black tentacles that engulf the stranger, threatening to crush the life from him. He attempts to cry out but the air is squeezed from his lungs. He looks pleadingly towards you before he slips into unconsciousness and the talisman falls from his hand.

Jonathan

((It will take you 5 rounds to reach the street from where you are so it's okay by me matey.))

[Penril]

Rhowan

[roll0]

((Lose this much Sanity))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Good sir, now slowly get on the ground, we'll bring you to a hospital to get that hand checked out.


Spot [roll0]

[Diakos]

Rhowan

"GIRL! Put 'im down n' git t' th' corner NOW! Or I'lll drop ye where ye stand!"
I take careful aim for her thigh, ready to drop her to the floor should she get any ideas.
"AH SED' NOW! Try t' get near meh' or th' door, an' I SWEAR I'll take yer damned head off ah' will!"

((Though likely ineffective against someone wielding shadowy tentacles, I take it a Intimidate roll'd be appropriate?))
((Intimidate: [roll]1d20+1[Roll]))

[Penril]

Chester

The man does what he is told, and ways down on the wet pavement. In the street you notice that the knife he threw is broken, leaving the blade with a jagged edge. You can't be sure if the blade could make the wounds you saw in the other man, but it seems more than likely.

Rhowan

((could you roll your Intimidate check again please, matey))

[Diakos]

Rhowan

((Ok, trying again))
((Intimidate: [roll0]))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Good sir, now don't make any sudden movements.

Chester takes out his handcuffs and tries to cuff the man, but if he makes a threatening move he'll hit him in the back of the the head to try to knock him out.

What were you doing here. Also why do you have that knife and gun?


To hit him if he moves [roll0]

((Sorry that should be -3 not -1. Not that either would hit, but still.))

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Let's just assume that for the next 5 rounds, unless something happens, Langston is heading outside. Hurrying, but not running.

[Penril]

Rhowan

To your surprise, at your command, Valerie yelps as though suddenly scared and rushes towards the corner where she stands cowering and looking at her feet "S-Sorry ..." you here the voices say "Didn't mean it ..."

The tentacles vanish back into the floor and the man drops to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. He casts around and grabs the talisman and gets shakily to his feet. "You've had your revenge now, can't you just leave us be? Give me back Valerie, please. Go and rest"

At his words, the darkness wanes from Valerie’s eyes and the power within her recedes, and she sinks to the floor, leaving her as the weak shell you met before. The man sighs in relief and sits next to her, comforting her. "Thank you" he says to you. I couldn't have done this without your aid; I am in your debt. Valerie too looks up from her inner musings and smiles briefly at you.

Chester

The man groans as you handcuff him and replies "Why d'you think? To stick in interfering nobodies like you and that damned librarian!"

((As you are handcuffing the thief, make a Listen check.))

[Dustfinger]

What were we interfering with, if you don't mind me asking?


[roll0]

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Rhowan lovers his gun, and suspiciouly eyes Valerie, whilst apporaching Mr. Goldsmiths' unmoving figure, trying to ascess his state of health.
((Treat injury? just in case: [roll0]))
"I'll be expecting a explanation, but first let's see to mister Goldsmith, mister?... Never got your name if i recall"

[Penril]

Chester

"Well, for one thing, you're interfering with my aquisition of that book." a voice by your ear says. "Stealing from thieves is so much easier than robbing the vault yourself, after all. Stand." the voice commands and you feel the hard press of a gun in your back.

Rhowan

Unfortunately, Mr Goldsmith is very dead, though there are no apartant wounds on his body. The other man introduces himself as "Last, Felix Last. I was a journalist for the Telegraph untill last week. This is my ... friend, Valerie Williams, she used to be a coroner for the police not too long ago, well seems like a lifetime really. I'd better explain the situation ...

“It all started about a month ago. I was working with Mr Crane, you know, the private detective, on a case regarding some missing children. Valerie was Crane’s new assistant, though I’ve no idea why. Anyway, we got a lead that the poor children may be being held in an old, abandoned abattoir in Cheapside. When we went to investigate, we saw some things, terrible things." Felix pauses and swallows hard. You can tell that this event had damaged him emotionally in some way "The place was ... haunted I’m sure of that. While we were in there, Valerie got trapped inside an old meat freezer for. We tried to get the door open, but some malevolent force was against us. All the while we could here her screaming and then, we heard nothing. When we got the door open we found her just curled up on the floor, not saying a word. To this day I don’t know what she saw and quite frankly, I don’t think I want to know. We got her back to Crane’s place a spent a week looking after her, but she didn’t get any better so we took her to hospital and they took her in. When I went to visit her a few days later, she was talking again and she said that the … I don’t know, the souls of all these poor kids were talking to her! Don’t ask me why I believed her, but if you’d all I’ve seen these past months, you’d be hard pushed to disbelieve. There are stranger things in this world than you think, my friend. Stranger than this, awaiting in the dark places, looking for ways in … Anyway, over my next few visits Valerie was saying that she needed to find the culprits, that she was being followed by someone in the hospital and that she had been visited by some strange men. I explained to her that Crane and I had caught Luke Richards, the man we thought was behind the kidnappings and found the children but …” he looks away “We were too late. But Valerie was insistent and believed that if the spirits talking to her found the true man behind this, she will be free.

“So I did some research on the situation. It turns out that there are some cases, similar to Valerie’s that have been recorded. Even better, there is a Professor up in Liverpool who has published a paper on what he calls “Restoring the Psyche” a way of rebuilding the mental holes that are left after a trauma such as this and cases of recovering schizophrenics. I also found that Mr Goldsmith was using Luke to kidnap the children, but it was he that performed the … atrocities. That was four hours ago after I managed to get an interview with Richards. When I went to the hospital to inform Valerie, she had escaped. Someone must have told her before I could and now … well it’s too late. But not too late to help Valerie, I want to travel up to Liverpool and see if this Professor can help her.

“There’s a problem though, Crane warned be about it, but I didn’t believe him until I say it for myself. My understanding of it is that there’s a group of people that seem to have a very particular interest in anything … out of the ordinary, if you get my meaning. Over the past few weeks, the people I have spoken to about this stuff have mentioned that they have been followed and some people have even disappeared, like Jacob. I’m convinced that I’m being watched too and I can’t take care of Valerie and what my back at the same time. I know this is asking a lot, but I can pay. Fifty pounds, just to escort Valerie and me to Liverpool and back, if need be. Valerie seems to trust you and that’s good enough for me. I can’t do this alone, but if you want out, I’ll understand.”

[roninkelt]

Artur

altho bitterly disappointed by the notes about looting, he will write down anything relevant about the location and try to dig up more info about the pagan sect that was using it.

During a break in the research, he'll remark to the Curator "Cursed enlisted men, stealing anything not nailed down! Some Prussian discipline would do them good." and make some small talk with the man. If he has time, Artur would like to find out what his area of interest is and chat with him about it.


[roll0]
[roll1]

OOC: sorry for the delay in posting - I'm working 80+ hour weeks for the next month or so. I'll be doing my best to keep up, but hope you understand.

What is the difference between Research, Gather Info and Investigate? Seems to me to be much overlap.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Okay, let's be rational here. I don't know who you are. You can both just walk away and i''ll never be able to identify either of you.

Chester stands up like the man told him too. But keeps his hand firmly gripped on his gun. He slowly starts to turn around as unthreatening as possible.

[Machiavelli]

After staring blankly at the letter for several moments, Miller comes to his senses and stows the letter in his jacket pocket while he heads for the door. He ponders for a few seconds on where to go for confirmation of this new development and decides that he should forgo any more stressful activities for the evening. He then sets out for a stroll, hoping the rain has subsided.

[Machiavelli]

After staring blankly at the letter for several moments, Miller comes to his senses and stows the letter in his jacket pocket while he heads for the door. He ponders for a few seconds on where to go for confirmation of this new development and decides that he should forgo any more stressful activities for the evening. He then sets out for a stroll, hoping the rain has subsided.

[Penril]

((Artur, I'll post up your findings later today. You rolled very well :smallsmile: ))

Chester

The gun presses harder as you try to turn and you catch a glimpse of a pale face with sharp features. "Don't move or it will be your last. I've no problems in killing you for that book, oh, and you can drop the weapon as well." You can hear the voice very close to your ear. It is a voice of pure malevolence, confidence and chilling evil. This man's hair must be longer than normal as you feel thick, rain-clumped strands against your head and freezing water running down the neck of your coat. You sense a movement from the man at your feet; he seems to be preparing to make a run for it when an opportunity arises.

James

Unfortunately, the rain is persisting. Thick, heavy thunderclouds hang over the city streets, keeping the majority of people indoors. The street is empty as you step out into the wet and the only signs of life are in the occasional gas-lit lamps in the windows of the buildings. The city seems to be all yours, as though you were the only one in it.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester places his gun slowly on the ground.

Then he says with a slight chuckle.

It's times like this I wonder why I dont have a backup weapon. But sir, it would be a bad idea to kill me, just grab the book and leave, then you can't be wanted for murder. Only theft, obstructing justice, thretening an officer of the law, and conspiracy to commit murder.

Bluff/Intimidate whichever applies.[roll0]

((I can't open my sheet at the moment, so applie whatever bonus you see fit.))

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Finally relaxing somewhat, Rhowan puts the gun in his belt and takes a deep breath.
"Fifty pounds... that is a fine offer, and i doubt I'll get my lease renewed here."
Rhowan seems lost in thought for a moment.
"I do however hope that whatever happened here was an one time only event, I'd hate to wake up one the way and find it happening again, or much less not wake up at all."
Returning to deep thought again Rhowan makes a sharp intake of air as if realizing something.
"Before we depart, there is the issue of what to do with Mr. Goldsmiths' body, it might give a bad impression for someone to find him dead and me having left town on short notice."
Rhowan looks over the body again.
"Whilst nothing'd suggest foul play it'd still seem a bit suspicious"

[Penril]

Chester

"Smart move. You there!" the voice says to the prone figure "The book if you please, sir. Unless you want holes in you."

The man grunts and pulls himself up awkwardly, slipping his arms under his feet as he does so that he can pull the book from inside his coat. Now in a crouch, with his hands in front of him, you realise that the fool is about to do a runner. Sure enough, as he is about to start, he shoves back hard as he rises, throwing the pair of you off balance and makes a break up the road. Your ears ring with the explosion of the gun going off, but there is no searing hot kiss of lead joining it.

((Make a Balance check and declare your actions for the round. DC is 10 to stay on your feet, bad guy has succeeded. The other man is 30ft ahead of you, making for a alleyway further up the street. You and your assailant are very close together.))

Rhowan

"Good point," replies Felix, scratching his head. "well, I sent the police all the evidence I had on Goldsmith, which is enough to put him away for sure, so the police will be here tomorrow, without a doubt. I wanted to make sure Goldsmith went away, but I needed enough time to find Valerie and keep her away in case, well, you know. I know, we could make it look like suicide! Have you any rat poison? That stuff'll work even though he's dead. Fake a confession and Bob's your uncle. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, though I'll need to get my writing tools." he pauses "Look, I know how hard it can be on some people to deal with death. If you don't want to do this, I'll clear this up and you just wait down stairs. I know it's a strange thing to be doing, but I don't see many other choices."

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Rhowan shrugs a bit
"Death doesn't bother me much, a part of life so to speak.
Rhowan looks to the body again
Though the thought of disturbing the dead is a bit unsettling, however Mr. Goldsmith has already done enough harm to the living, if you find a spot for him, I'll look for the poison"
As Rhowan goes to find the poison, he realizes something and goes to his apartment where he finds a pen and writes a note himself:

*Dear Mr. Goldsmith, I am sorry i was unable to tell you in person, but i hope you'll read it as soon as you return.
I'm forced to leave for a extended period of time as my sister in Newcastle has fallen very ill,
and I wish to spend some time with her should her health turn to the worse.
I've left the front key in the top drawer of my worktable.
I know it is a terrible bother but I've little choice, and so have left a note informing customers coming for pickups,
to knock at your door.
The names of customers and prices of the repairs are on a list in the worktable as well.
I hope to return within a week, or at the least before the next payment of lease.

Regards - Rhowan Delvin*

Satisfied with the sounding of the note, Rhowan quickly goes back upstairs and looks though Mr. Goldsmiths' closets for the poison.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

I believe we should have a truce for a moment.

Chester says as he goes to pick up his gun to fire on the running man.

Balance [roll0]
Firing at runner obviously.

[Dustfinger]

To hit, whenever i get the chance to get up and fire.[roll0]

[Penril]

Rhowan

You find some rat poison under the sink and pass Felix on the stairs as he heads out to get his "writing materials" and he asks you to keep an eye on Valerie. As he headed out the door, you get the feeling that he is familiar with the arts of forgery.

Chester

You get tangled in the legs of the other man and fall to the ground. You land heavily on your side with a splash, but manage to fire off a shot from your gun from the floor. You note with grim satisfaction that your shot was on target and the man lurches to one side. In spite taking the bullet the man carries on heroically and reaches the alleyway and disappears around the corner in a wake of rain-diluted blood. Only now do you notice that the other man has vanished.

((roll damage))

Jonathan

As you reach the door to the outside world, you hear the sound of two gun shots! Peering cautiously around the door, you can see a tall man dressed in a long, dark overcoat. His dark hair is quite long and hangs in matted, thick clumps. At his feet, you see the detective you saw from the window, firing a gun up the street at someone you can't see from here. The tall man suddenly bends double and the rain on his back and hair begins to steam. In a moment, he appears to be as transparent as the steam whisping around him and he vanishes from sight.

((Make a Sanity check for the evaporating man))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*So now i've struck blood as the culprit ran away. Do I wait here to explain everything to the cops, or do I continue the chase? I've never been much of a waiting kind of guy*

Chester pulls himself up off of the ground and grabs the broken knife and gun and places them in his jacket. He then sprints towards the alleyway with his own gun drawn.

Okay, he yells loudly.

Now we need to get your hand and the bullet hole checked out at the hospital. Also, i'd apreciate those handcuffs back.

Damage[roll0]
Spot check [roll1]
To hit, if the chance arises [roll2]
Also, if that shot hits, Damage [roll3]

[Penril]

Artur

The cult which used to inhabit the cave system was a radical sect of Sufist Muslims, known as the Shadhiliyya. The cult is recorded to have been practicing Sihr Magic, which is forbidden in the Sunni and Shia sects of Egypt, who ruled the area at the time. Even today, there is an 80% Sunni and Shia population of Egyptian Muslims. The cult's historys date back to an innocent Sufist school of the same name, which taught the traditional path of Sufism. While all Muslims believe that they are on the pathway to God and will become close to God in Paradise - after death and the "Final Judgment" - Sufis believe as well that it is possible to become close to God and to experience this closeness; while one is alive. The chief aim of all Sufis then is to let go of all notions of duality, including a conception of an individual self, and to realize the Divine unity. A usually peaceful and contemplative practice, the Shadhiliyya School was fairly popular in Cairo at its peak, untill a previously unknown Shaykh named Ahmad Khallikan became the leader of the school. Under his tuteage, the school changed to value the worth of "Barakah", a divine blessing from Allah, reserved only for the most pious of Musilms and allows for great feats of magic. Within a year, many of the students who were deemed unworthy were thrown out or worse and the school began secret rituals to explore the nature of true existence and the nature of Allah himself.

Many of the rituals required barbaric sacfice, but the over zealous students, safe in the knowledge that they are truely worthy, went out into the city to kill and kidnap. It wasn't long before the city interefervened. The school was attacked following failed talks and was burned down, though some say this was an accident. The hated follows of the school performed their black magic before the cityfolk and walked through the fire unscathed.

Ahmad Khallikan and many of his followers survived the attack on the school and fled the city. After wandering the desert for several weeks after invoking the rite known as Khalwa, the school, now considered a cult, retreated into the cave system in question to continue their evil work in "removing the veil of the holy" - a quote from an Islamic leader on the subject, which sums up the view that most orthodox Muslims have of the cult, which suggests the perversion of all that is sacred and a dissatisfaction with reason in place of faith.

The cult crops up in various sources very few hundred years, linked to sacking of ancient temples and replics, various kidnapping in areas across the arab world, which suggests that cells of the cult have spread since the 8th century. The most modern reference to the cult comes from the Great War and what a number of Italian soldiers had found the caves ...

((Would you like to know more? Research roll on the military records, with no bonus as the reports are not kept here))

Chester

The thief staggers into the alleyway towards a large refuse bin. His fingers feel the exit wound of the shot and the warm blood flowing out of it. He'll be lucky to live through the night. He leans with his back against the bin for a moment to gain a brief respite for his worn out limbs. However, at the sound of a cry and running footsteps over the drumming of the rain, the thief groans and hauls himself along the alley. Suddenly, an icy wind chills his already cold back and his rooted in terror. By his trembling shoulder, he hears a voice whispering softly in his ear. "Y-yes ..." the man stutters in reply. Then he gasps, there is a slight pain in his neck and his collar is soaked with warm, red blood "N-nothing ..." his whispers as he sinks to the ground, blood mixing the rain. The figure neatly collects the book as the man folds slowly and neatly to the ground and begins to vanish again.

You charge around the corner and the figure turns and smiles a thin, evil smile as he begins to disappear in the steam. Your gunshot hits the figure and his grin is replaced by a look of shock! He clutches at the wound in his shoulder and hunches over, but vanishes nonetheless.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Disturbed by thedisappearing man, and more than a little frightened by the gun play, Jonathan did what any English gentleman would do when confronted by deadly and mysterious forces. That is to say, he tossed off a quick prayer to the Omnipotence and then ran to the front desk at the library,

"Quickly! Did you call the police? There's some sort of fight going on out there, guns are involved."

[Lepre_Khan]

Woops! Forgot to make a sanity czech.

[roll0]

[Penril]

(( [roll0] Sanity loss))

The woman on the front desk nods franticly and grabs for the phone with shaking hands.

[roninkelt]

Artur

ooc: All hell is breaking loose and Artur is digging around in musty old tomes. Color me happy. :)

[roll=Research]1d20+4[roll]

"Fascinating!" Artur has lost track of time, relentlessly following every thread that has information on his intended target. Perhaps they didn't actually find all the artifacts in the cave complex, only that which was easy to find.

[roninkelt]

damn die roller

[roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*I can't believe how many men I lose that way. What was so important about that book that it would have had 2 people try to steal it in the same day. Let me go inside and see what i can find out. Hey, my handcuffs!*

Chester then takes his handcuffs off of the man and searches him for any form of identification. After he is sure there is nothing else to find, he heads inside the library to see what everyone knows.

Chester Gould, P.I.! Now what has happened here, who was that man and what book did he steal?

Search[roll0]
Investigate [roll1]

[Machiavelli]

Miller steps out onto his doorstep and stares morosely at the dreary sky. He looks back inside at the boring apartment that he has not left for two days. After weighing his options for a few moments, he decides that a little rain never hurt anyone and he needs the exercise, so he snatches his umbrella and sets out for a walk.

[Penril]

Chester

((Drat! forgot to ask for your sanity check for the vanishing man, may I have one please?))

You stride through the doors into the library and find it almost devoid of life. Only an elderly lady at the front desk jabbering on the telephone ("y-yes, please! Send someone right away ... yes, I'll stay here ...") and a short, serious looking man who seems to hold the world at fault for his lack of inches. Other than his stern grey eyes, the man looks rather normal, nearly too normal. A gentleman with large wire-framed glasses hang off a large English nose, a perfectly tied tie hanging around his thin neck and prominent Adam's apple, coupled with his gray tweed jacket crammed full of notes.

((Artur and James, I'll post you guys up your next bit in a bit, I have some work to do))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Excuse me sir. I'm going to need to question you on what you've seen here today. You were the man who yelled to me from the window, correct?

Chester says, taking his hat off and showing the gentleman his badge.

[roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

"Yes officer, that would be me. I am Jonathan Langston, the poet and I would be glad to answer any questions for you, Mr. Gould."

Doing his best imitation of calm, Jonathan extends his hand in greeting to the PI.

"I do not know exactly what book was stolen. He ran me over before his dramatic escape and drew his firearm, saying something to the effect of 'Don't get in my way, I was just hired to get the book. I'll shoot if I have to.'

I backed off and raised my hands. I'm a poet, not a policeman. He then noticed a ring I was wearing and left.

I don't suppose you were able to stop him? I'd very much like my ring back."

[Penril]

Artur

There are several reports of note in various newspaper articles and references in the expedition notes regarding the Italian soldiers. You infer from the sources that the platoon were part of a larger force, that was sent to Africa to support General Smuts' campaign against the Germans in Rwanda-Burundi in 1916. Presumably, the Italians were intending to travel down the Red Sea from the north, into the Indian Ocean and link up with their allies in Mozambique.

However, it would appear that the forces were waylaid by Austrio-Hungarian forces in the mediterranian and were forced to land in Egypt. One newspaper account suggests that there was some discord among the Italian troops. One half wanted to return to Italy to rearm and regroup, while the other wanted to continue south. After some in-fighting, two platoons were sent back to await reinforcements, while the rest of the troops continued south, down the Nile to Thebes, then across to the Red Sea.

The expedition notes record the presence of about twenty Italian troops in the cave system. Why they had entered the cave is not noted, but there was the suggestion of some fighting in the caves. Among the items recovered from the caves, a journal of sorts was found, but your rummagings in the recovered items yield no such book. The inventory of the items that were sent here, including several pottery fragments, religious texts and ritual items are all accounted for with the exception of the journal. Although, it is possible that it was sent up to Edinborough by mistake. (It appears that the University of Edinborough had financed some of the operation and some of the findings were sent there, but the inventory list states that the journal should be with the rest of the items around you)

James

The rain drums off of your umbrella as you splash your way down the street, lost in your own thoughts.

((Where would you like to go today?))

[Machiavelli]

With one hand in his pocket and the other gripping his umbrella, Arthur nonchalantly stolls down the street, taking in the fresh air. He heads towards the docks to watch the activity on the water.
((I was going to meet up with the party by walking to the library, but I'm going on vacation from the 18th to the 28th and won't be able to reply. Terribly sorry my character has begun his intro by not doing anything at all yet. I promise to be more involved when I come back.))

[roninkelt]

Artur

"Dratted lax records!" He mutters more about English efficiency or the lack thereof then heads out to the curators office.

Once there:
"Your hospitality has been most kind good sir, however there is one item that may cast some light on my search that seems to be missing. Is there a journal that came with the Sudanese items that has, perhaps, been misplaced?" While talking to him about the findings, Artur will casually cast his eye about the office, looking for interesting items.

[roll0]

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Sighing deeply and shaking his head, Rhowan puts the rat poison on a table and start rummaging for a kettle and Mr. Goldsmith's tea supply, ((if he doesn't find it he'll take his own)) when he finishes rummaging about, he turns to the room where Valerie's in.
"Miss Valerie, you fancy some tea?
Might not be an appropriate time, but it'll get you warm n' take the mind of th' recent events if just fer a moment"
Warm... Rhowan looks at Valerie and once again realizes her condition.
"Oh bloody he... You must be freezing, go sit by the stove while I find a blanket"
Not waiting for a reply, Rhowan looks around for a blanket and a couple of clean mugs or cups, making sure to put one by Mr. Goldsmith's body, along with the box of poison.
"Oh god... what is it I'm doing?
I'm waiting on a half-mad girl, that has just killed my landlord for performing "unspeakable acts", and I'm now helping a experienced forger cover up the fact that he was smothered to death by shadows.
Not only that, I'm helping them escape...
Rhowan sighs again, and gives the blanket to Valerie, ignoring any protests ((well unless she becomes hysterical about the blanket belonging to Mr. Goldsmith)) and instead focuses on making the tea.
This had turned out to be quite an unforeseen turn of events on a rainy Wednesday...
((Yes I just did some internal monologue, but i found it rather fitting))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

I'm sorry Mr. Langston but do you have any proof that this man stole your ring? What did the ring look like? I find it quite peculiar that he would put the ring on before leaving the scene.

Sense Motive [roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Drawing himself up haughtily to his full height, Langston chillingly responds to the detectives suspicions.

"Yes, it would be quite illogical for a thief to store and hide a ring on his finger, wouldn't it. Who would think of such a thing?

Besides, I never said he wore it, Detective. I said he had it. I don't know what he did with it, I was more concerned with the pistol in my face.

Either way, I find your distrust disturbing. I warn you of a thief, he flees and a shooting match occurs.

Why, pray tell, do you think I knew he was a thief? Yes, he mentioned a book, but I never saw it. If he hadn't wagged a pistol in my face and taken my ring, I wouldn't have known anything strange about a book. Respectable people leave libraries with books all the time. You might even say that's why libraries exist."

As he speaks, Jonathan thinks to himself, "This isn't needed. The fool knows nothing, and need know nothing. He is a lackey of temporal powers, nothing more. I shall play his game...the Order is sufficiently connected to twist the Law to our ends.

Visibly calming after his tirade, Langston meekly continues,

I apologize for that, sir. It was unnecessary. I am simply...unsettled...by todays events. I beg your forgiveness. I will, of course, file a missing items sheet with the Police Department. Are there any questions you have for me?"

[Penril]

Artur

The curator peers at the inventory before nodding. "Yes, it is possible. However, this inventory is drawn up as items come off the ship and were put into the correct trucks. I think we have one for when the items arrived at the museum, let's see ..." he rummages around his desk for the sheet. While he does, you take a moment to scan the room for interesting items. Nothing particularly grabs your attention for your current investigations, but you can see that if you do need anything usefully archaic in the future, this would certainly be a good place to start. Your musings are interrupted by a triumphant "ah ha!" The curator scans the two sheets as you peer over his shoulder. You both notice at the same time that the journal left the ship, but did not arrive at the museum. "Blast!" curses the curator "This is the third time this has happened this year! Foolish workmen!" His mild temper wanes almost immediately, however and he laughs "Well, it seems to be quite a mystery, my Germanic friend and you have the look of a curious soul. I say, if you find the journal, and whoever's been stealing our ancient oddities, you're welcome to keep it. Call it a reward, a prize for completing such a Homeric quest."


Rhowan

Valerie is totally submissive and makes her way slowly to the stove and pulls the blanket around her and over her head. Her shivering slowly begins to recede as the warm from the stove softly bathes her ghostly skin, spreading some life info her sallow face. As you busy yourself with the tea, you just about her a quite "Thank you" from under the blanket.

Jonathan

((Jonathan, I’m going to need a Bluff check, I’m afraid))

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Oh well. for what it's worth, I was telling the complete truth by the end.

Bluff [roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

I'm sorry for offending you Mr. Langston. I was just testing you, there was no proof that the man had worn this ring for any longer than a minute or two. Here's your ring back sir. Can you please tell me anything you know of why this man was stealing the book. What else did he say to you? Also, what "Order" was he talking about.

[roninkelt]

Artur

"May I?" Artur will take the bill of lading and copy down the info on the company and any signatures or names on it. Once done, he tucks the copy into his brief and returns the original to the Curator.

"I thank you for your hospitality." Artur will sketch a quick bow. "Should you need anything, please feel free to contact me" He will give a calling card that has his current address written on the back.

Once out on the street, Artur will consider his next steps as he makes his way home.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Langston takes the ring from the detective and slips it quickly into his pocket.

"The fool. This shall be easier than I had hoped."

Responding politely to the inquiry, Langston keeps his eye out for the bobbies who should be arriving soon.

"He ran into me, and told me I was in his way, I had to leave or he'd shoot. That was the extent of our interaction. You saw everything from then on. He fled to the streets. Evidently, you were able to apprehend him. That is the sum of my knowledge."

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Could you please take me to where this happened? It would be very appreciated.

Investigate (once we get to the scene)
[roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

"Certainly, sir. Do you mind if I use the restroom first? It has been a stressful few moments."

With that, Langston heads to the restroom.

"I hope this works."

Jonathan slips the thief's ring onto his finger.

[Penril]

Artur

The name of the shipping company is Livingstone & Sons (Est. 1865). A moderately sized logistics and shipping partnership based in Liverpool's thriving docks. Amongst various illegible scrawl, which passes for handwriting these days, one name - Stephen Livingstone, seems to be the name of the man who signed for the shipment and its split.

You mull over these thoughts as you make your way home. The constant sussurrus of falling raining is most soothing and your mind begins to clear as you begin to sort though the facts of this newly discovered puzzle.

Chester

The gentleman walks away towards the restroom, leaving you alone in the front entrance with the receptionist. In the distance, you can hear the whine of a siren.

Jonathan

For a moment, you hold the ring before your finger and feel the buzz of adrenalin shoot through you. The prospect of finally experiencing, first hand, the power of the occult arts has been your amibition for so long and he you are, stood in a library toilet with such an opportunity! To the most beautiful moment in life. Better than the deed, better than the memory, the moment of anticipation ...

You slide the ring onto your finger and feel the cold silver against your skin. YOu don't feel any different, and the world looks the same. You look down at your hands and see that your are still intact and a glance in the bathroom mirror confirms the same.

Rhowan

Valerie says nothing more for a time, but you can feel her large, blue gaze on your back as you prepare the tea. Every time you turn, however, you spot that she averts her gaze. After a time, you hear the sound of the door knocking.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Somewhat disappointed, Jonathan leaves the restroom and heads towards the yellow trench coat wearing detective.

Waiting silently for the detectives response, Jonathan peers around the room.



IF he sees me and says something, or in anyway makes it obvious that he knows I'm there, I say,

"We might want to wait for the bobbies to get here Mr. Gould. I'm certain they'll have their own questions."

On the other hand, if I'm invisible I'm going to test it for a minute, and then walk out a side door.

[Diakos]

((Sorry bout the long time of inactivity, once again RL interferes))

Rhowan

Not expecting Mr. Felix to knock, Rhowan raises a brow and looks to the corpse and rat-poison before walking to the door and slowly opening it.

[Penril]

Chester

You notice Mr Langston leave the restroom and hear his remark.

Rhowan

You open the door to find Felix carrying two large suitcases. It would appear that he knocked with his foot. "Ah, good man, right then, let's crack on shall we?"

He places the suitcases on the floor and spends several minutes comforting Valerie and talking quietly. Then he stands up, opens one of the suitcases and pulls out a black leather portfolio. Inside are a selection of paper, pens, stamps and other writing tools. After about 45 minutes of painstaking work, he is done, having used a copy of your lease agreement as a basis for his handwriting forgery. The handwriting is uncannily accurate, and you realise that you are in the presence of a truely skilled man.

"Okay, this should do it, one apologetic suicide note and we're covered." He hands you the note. It reads:

The Last Confession of Gareth Goldsmith.

If you are reading this, I have left the world I had no right to be in. Hopefully this account and confession will polish this man's tainted soul so that he at least catches the smallest glimpse of paradise. Over the past few weeks, my dark hunger, my vice which has no right being penned on this Earth, reached an unbearable climax. I have performed such unspeakable acts to those poor young children that I do not deserve to live on this Earth any longer. Guilt has filled the void that satisfying my hunger has left and now I've nowhere left to turn. My only hope is that my sincere apologies and desperate request for forgiveness not fall on the deaf ears of the families I have wronged. I am so sorry for what I have become and I only my own weakness to blame. So now this tortured soul leaves this Earth, with nothing more than a whisper, a fitting end to a man who's acts should never be heard of again.

Deepest sympathies to those I have wronged,

Gareth Goldsmith.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Yes i suppose you are right, wait here i'll be with you in a moment.

With that Chester walks back outside towards the body of the dead man and tries to get the cops attention.

Excuse me! Chester Gould P.I. This man tried to attack me.

Chester holds his badge out and waits for the men.

[Penril]

Chester

The siren whines into silence and three policemen step down from the vehicle and you begin the familiar process of explaining things to the police. They take a statement from you and ask to look at the body first, so as not to scare anyone. They haul the body into the back of the van and prepare to enter the library to take a look at the crime scene. All of this takes about 15 minutes.

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

While Chester is out with the bobbies, Jonathan quickly heads upstairs to ensure the secret chamber is closed.

After this is done, he returns downstairs and pulls out his notepad, working on his latest masterpiece-- an ode to a woman he's never met and whom he shall always love.

[Penril]

Jonathan and Chester

The detective, flanked by two policemen return indoors. The policemen shake the rain from their coats and peer around the dark, silent library.

((Besides the taking of statements, is there anything specific either of you wish to do? All the clues you are going to get have been laid before you :smallsmile: ))

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

After dealing with the policeman, Langston begs his leave and returns upstairs to the hidden chamber and sits down to read the book he came for in the first place.

If this is unfeasible do to continued police/detective presence, Langson heads home.

[Penril]

Jonathan

The policemen are still wandering around the library, looking for clues, but in reality, making a mess and getting in the way. You decide it is more prudent to head home for now. You make your way back through the wet streets and mull over the evening's events in your head, trying to figure out what to do. Feeling more than a little disappointed at being unable to enjoy a quiet evening of plumbing the depths of the occult, you reach your home and hang your coat up on the stand. As you make your way through the hall, you notice a package on the table by the door. A chill runs down your spine. The door was locked when you left...

The package is a large oblong shape, wrapped in brown paper and secured with string. By the weight and feel of it, you recognise immediately that it is a book. Curious, you carefully untie the string, forcing the excited quiver from you hands and trying not to expect too much as you open the paper slowly, without tearing it. Inside is, as you guessed, a book. A large, simple, leather-bound affair with time-yellowed, dog-eared pages. The leather is thin and well scuffed and the faded gold lettering reads "Experimentarius"

Where there's a will, there's a way, it seems.

You rush to your study and click on the light of your desk and open the cover. The first page is blank, but resting inside is a folded piece of paper. The note reads:

Mr Langston,

Make no mistake, we are fully aware of the events that have occurred this night and rest assured, we are aware that you have no nefarious role in these actions. As part of your initiation, we grant you loan of Experimentarius for study for two weeks. However, it seems that cogs are turning earlier than we had anticipated. The book thief is but a pawn in a larger plot that we have been monitoring for some time, and now we must press deeper into this mystery and uncover the masters pulling the strings. No doubt you have uncovered some information that will lead you down the path of Truth and we place our trust in you to investigate this theft and find out who was behind it and why.

You will not be alone; however, the telephone number below may be used to contact another member of our Circle, should you need guidance, supplies or other aid. His name is Chamberlain.

Report back in 3 days to Chamberlain with your findings and we will consider your position within our organisation with a few to reallocating your skills to a more appropriate arena.

We trust you will leave at once,

-AZ

Chester

An interesting night to say the least. Two dead men, a book theft, a mysterious stranger or two ... not to mention almost being killed. Quite the web you have stumbled into. However, you have some clues. Having done everything besides dangling the library assistant out of the window, you get the title of the stolen book, "The King in Yellow" by R Davies. The book is apparently a play and the copy stolen was a first edition. Also, you have a name, Stephen Winterton.

((Make either a Research check on the book or a Gather Information check on the name))

Rhowan

You and Felix arrange the man on his bed and ingest him with rat poison. After this rather morbid activity, Felix turns to you and says "Right, this is it, your last chance to drop out. We're heading for the train station right away.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*What a life I have. I'm a P.I. and i am researching a book. Or should I start checking out things about this man, this Stephen Winterton? What better place to research than a library? I just had a brilliant idea... Is Paranormal Investigator copyrighted? Hmm I need to check that some time. Anyway, back to my research.*

Chester walks back to the librarian and his assistant and says very authoratatively.

Well, I need to get a start on research of this book and the man you told me about so i'm going to have to spend the night here at the library. No, no, don't object it's not going to do any good.

With that, Chester walks back into the maze of books to find something useful.

*Reading always makes me so tired.*

After hours of research, Chester dozes of in a chair surrounded by opened books.

Research [roll0]

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Looking over the scene, Rhowan taken in a deep breath and slowly exhales.
"Let us get going then, I've got little to pack, and I've little desire to remain here"
Rhowan nods to the two and heads down into his apartment, packing a change of clothes, his tool set, a thick book, the cleaning kit and two boxes of bullets for the Tranter.
Throwing on a thick overcoat he heads upstairs to the two.

[Penril]

Chester

The King in Yellow is a 15th century play written in two acts. The story is a tragic one of betrayal and horror. You discern nothing more. You awake with a start to find yourself still in the library. nest to the book, which you had been using as a pillow, is a police file. Inside are the details of Stephen Winterton. It appears that he is working as a porter in Ashworth Mental Hospital in Liverpool and he lives in one of the annexes inside the hospital itself. He has previous convictions for burglary and possession of firearms without a license.

Rhowan

The three of you splash down the street, hauling your bags and flag down a hackney carriage. You climb aboard and as Felix asks the man to take you to King's Cross Station, you watch as your home disappears around a corner and your adventure begins!

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Putting the note into his briefcase, Langston attempts to get in a few hours of study in before turning in for the night.

After a restless night, full of dreams of terrible power and vanishing thieves brandishing revolvers at innocent poets, Jonathan rose early to greet the dawn. Eager to catch the proverbial worm, Jonathan soon set off to the Library--hoping to put in a little research into book R1:47.

First however, he packed a duffel bag with a few changes of clothes, and filled his briefcase with all of his occult notes--as well as his own works, the Inferno, Paradise Lost, and now the most precious treasure, the Experimentarius. Wrapping the book lovingly in handkerchiefs, Langston sets it in the center of his case. That done, he heads off to the library and delves into R1:47, hoping to find out just what it is, who wrote it, what has been written about it, and what it really means.

After three hours, Langston heads to King's Cross and catches the next train to Liverpool.

While waiting at the station, Jonathan makes a call to the Kent's.

"Yes, is Mr. Kent there?

Tell him that it's Jonathan Langston calling. Yes, the tutor.

Good morning to you as well, Mr. Kent. Yes, your daughter is doing quite fine in her studies. Yes, I am quite impressed by her writing. She's quite skilled, you are correct. The next great poet, I'm sure. Certainly more talent than Mr. Stanhope.

Mr. Kent, my call has nothing to do with your daughters ability. I simply need to let you know my mother's taken ill and.. No, I've never told you about her before. Generally we discuss your daughter. Either way, her illness has gotten rather severe and so I must visit her in Liverpool for a few days, possibly even a few weeks. Yes, I'm aware that this isn't good for your daughter. If you must, find her another tutor. I understand, but my mother's health you see...

Yes, thank for your well wishing. I shall let you know the minute I return to London."

With that business otu of the way, Mr. Langston took up his duffel and briefcase and got onto the train. While on the ride, he spent most of his time fiddling with his new ring.

Research of Experimantus[roll0]
Research on R1:47 [roll1]
Knowledge Literature on R1:47 [roll2]
Knowledge Forbidden Lore on the Ring [roll3]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Well I guess my only lead is with Mr. Winterton. I guess i'll head over to where he stayed and try to find out as much as I can.

Chester then goes home, reloads his gun. Grabs his standard equipment and takes the next train to Ashworth Mental Hospital.

Standard Equipment is everything. But my box of bullets.

[Penril]

Restore your sanity to full please people, nothing permanent. (Yet.)

Jonathan

Experimentarius - You discern from your study that this text is largely regarding the subject of Lesser Invoking Ritual of the Pentagram and the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram, the most basic rituals you are expected to learn as a part of the Order. However, you will need to study this book in greater depth to learn more.
((Make a Sanity check))
R1:47 - The King in Yellow. Written by R T Davies in 1415. It is a play written in two acts and is something of an oddity for two reasons: Firstly, it is a play, not a novel or journal as you would have expected and secondly, it does not appear to be in the same style as plays of the period. Historically, plays of this period fall largely into two categories; Comedies and Morality Plays. Certainly not a comedy, The King in Yellow fails to meet the criteria to truly consider it to be a Morality Play. The play has three main characters, Cassilda, Camilla, and the King in Yellow. The first act revolves around a masquerade party, when a mysterious stranger moves among the dancers to entice Cassilda to run away with him. The second act has been lost to time, though it seems that the first edition, which has been stolen, may contain the only details of the second act. You manage to unearth a copy of the first act, though it does appear to be an abridged copy. You also make a list of literary references to the colour Yellow, as well as similar plays and short stories with a similar subject matter. However, these additional sources are largely contemporary, with northing at the time coming close to this truly original text. The play reads authentically enough; the mannerisms and sentence structure being what you would expect, but the themes and the story are what make this play unique among its contemporaries.
Ring - From its design and materials, you find out that it is made of silver and holds 3 very small, quite valuable sapphires. By morning, however, you notice that the stones look much brighter than they did last night, as though someone had given them a professional clean.

Rhowan & Chester

You reach King's Cross station to find that the next train to Liverpool doesn't leave until morning. Felix decides to check himself, Valerie and you, Rhowan, into a B&B for the night, close to the station. The night passes uneventfully...

Rhowan, Chester & Jonathan

11am. Thursday April 14th 1923.

King's Cross station is a large, busy station with the bustling commuters coming on and off the trains. It is a daunting place to navigate if you are unfamiliar with the way the London rail network works, but you are all accustomed enough to know to follow the rivulets of queues and applying elbows where needed to get through. Individually, you battle your way through the noisy crowds, secure a ticket for the first train to Liverpool that isn't a postage train, which is due to leave in 10 minutes. You secure yourself a seat and settle down for the long, 2 hour journey northwards.

((Chester and Jonathan, the odds of you spotting each other in the crowd are slim indeed. The train is fairly busy, but eventually you manage to find a compartment in the train that is unoccupied so that you can travel in peace and quiet.))


http://mysite.freeserve.com/postimages/trains1920.jpg

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

As he boards the crowded train, Langston jostles his way through the unfortunately large mass of fools before finally securing a private booth.

While within, Jonathan pulls out the sapphire ring and examines it. After discerning nothing save the renewed shine, he slips the ring into his inside coat pocket--close to his heart and away from prying hands.

Lastly, with whatever time remains he continues his work on his poem to his eternally unmet love.

Sanity [roll0]
My last ring check was for my train ride, so I'll keep that. If it takes the full two hours, that's fine. If not...
Craft (Writing) [roll1]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester pushes through the crowd thinking about how dangerous it is to have this many unhappy people all waiting in the same place. As he makes his way through the train he looks for the most uninposing person to sit next to as to not cause any problems.

Spot [roll0]

[Penril]

[roll0]

Jonathan, reduce your total sanity score by this much permenantly from your occult study.

[Diakos]

Rhowan

Taking place in the train Rhowan tries to find a place with room for him to stretch his leg, while also having Felix and Valerie within close eyesight n' earshot.

Having (hopefully) settled in satisfactory he packs out his book, "The Count of Monte Cristo", finding his bookmark and diving into the world of Mr. Dümas.

If someone wishes to take the seat next to him he'll give a polite nod and shift over, while attempts to sit across from him (and thus limiting his legroom) will be met with a long look over his glasses, a deep audible sigh, and a deliberately slow shift of seating whilst leaning heavily on his cane.

[Penril]

Rhowan

After about 15 minutes of peaceful reading, you feel the space next to you being filled and glance across to see a drab-looking suit with a broadsheet newspaper. The sheet flaps irritatingly on the edge of your vision, but the man seems to notice and shifts to allow you your personal space back and you go back to your book. From where you are sitting, you can see Valerie and Felix over to your left. A few stops later, Felix gets up and moves over to you and asks quietly, "Valerie wants a drink, and I must say, I'm parched myself. Would you like anything?"

Chester

You are sat in one of the front train cars and it isn't long before the guard wanders down and asks to see your tickets. The bland, bearded old man looks at your ticket and nods and moves down the train, his girth taking up alot of space down the narrow train passages. The man sat next to you is one of many identical-looking business-types with an umbrella and a briefcase and a pair of battered-looking shoes. His small, wire-framed glasses sit on the edge of his nose as he puzzles over a crossword.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Hello, how are you doing this fine morning? My name is Chester, what's yours?

Chester tries to make small talk with the man being as polite as possible, just to pass the time on the train.

[Penril]

Chester

The man looks up from his paper and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Bingley, Simon Bingley. How do you do?" he seems nice enough, his demenor open and honest. "Travelling for business?" he asks as he takes a glance at your attire.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Why yes, I am a P.I. that investigates perticularly peculiar crimes. I can't really get into details, but do you think Paranormal Investigator is too cheesy?

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

Jonathan continues to quietly wrestle with his muse as the train rocks on.

"No, that's too obvious. Any body could interpret that. Poetry isn't some after dinner cigar after all. Still, can't be too obscure. Don't want it to just be a collection of nonsensical and pretentious terms.

Should I rhyme? What rhymes with 'porophyr' anyway?


Sorry if this is a kind of wasted entry, just thought I should post in the IC thread as well to mark my return.

[Penril]

Chester

"I say, how exciting!" he exclaims, clapping his hands together "Moon-lit chases over rooftops and feats of daring do and all that, eh? Sounds far more interesting that the insurance business. Are you American? I'm terribly sorry, I'm terrible with accents." Before you can reply ...

All

The train passes through a tunnel. As the light bursts back again, Jonathan, mid sentence, you curse quietly as you notice you have finished your line at an angle in the darkness, spoiling the neat, orderly collection of words. Rhowan, you notice in the that in between entering and exiting the tunnel, Felix has aparantly moved out of this carriage in search of refreshments. Chester, roll a Wisdom check (d20+Wis mod)

[Lepre_Khan]

Mr. Langston

This isn't coming together. Trains are impossible to concentrate on. That confounded noise outside, our own 'modern' industrialized hell-fire. Perhaps a drink would help.

So thinking, Jon packed his notes into his briefcase, picked it up and headed to the bar.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Why yes....

Wisom [roll0]

[Penril]

Jonathan

You make your way through the carriages, having to squeeze by some of the busier areas before making your way to the bar. It is quite busy, being midday, but you find a gap in the wall of suited backs at the bar and make a beeline for it. As you lean against the polished mahogany bar and await service, you look around at the clean, new decoration of this train. The bright, brass railings, the delicate pewter sandwich trays and thick, red carpet all shine with the promise of a new lease of post-war life. Economic restructure and reformed trade, galvanized in the wake of a unified enemy has already borne rich fruit. Standing here, now, you reflect that it must be difficult to imagine those darker times in France and the destruction that was wrought.

After a minute of so, the barman, a lean man with a neatly trimmed beard and slick hair takes your order and sets about making your drink.

Chester

As soon as the light bursts back into the carriage, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Something is amiss, but you cannot tell what it is. It feels like something in the fabric of the carriage and its occupants has changed in some way, subtle enough to seem like nothing, but a clear and obvious nothing. You dismiss the feeling from your higher brain to some deeper part of you, the part of you that keeps you alive on dark nights and was always there but kept caged until it is needed. Some policeman refer to it as the beast, that primal part of you and all who walk the night time streets keep close by, to give death the struggle of it's life to shake you off the mortal coil.

Your companion notices your wariness and asks "Something wrong? Do you need some water, you've gone awfully pale."

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester's eyes dart around the room as the lights come back on. He instantly puts his hand on his shoulder holster under his arm and unbuttons the clasp so as to be prepared for anything.

Uhm, no... nothing is wrong, just a little jumpy I guess, havn't really had good experiences with darkness in my profession. No no, I don't need any water i'll be just fine, I promise, everythings fine.

Chester glances around the room once more to see if he can figure out just what did happen when the light fled from the darkness.

*Oh, God, not here, not with all these people. Please Lord.*

Spot [roll0]
Can't check my stats on the computer i'm on right now, so if there is any more modifiers than that just add it on. Not that I could possibly roll high enough to do anything well on this thread...:smallfrown:

[Penril]

Chester

You spot nothing untoward around. Some people have moved into one of the other carriages and you can see a different row of the tops of people's heads (a white panama hat and a head of bright ginger hair as opposed to the black bowler and blonde ponytail as it was before) but nothing sinister seems afoot. You settle back down for a moment until a shout from one of the carriages ahead causes you to leap into action! (however, you'll have to wait for Jonathan's next post.)

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan

Politely receiving his drink, Jonathan meticulously counts out the precise cost of the drink. Finding himself slightly over, he waits impatiently for exact change. Just because the economy is booming, there's no reason to go wasting money.

Having observed the room, Langston begins to observe the rooms inhabitants, hoping for some sort of inspiration.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Oh Lord! Excuse me sir, I must go check that out.

Chester grabs his briefcase and makes sure he has everything as he runs towards the shout. He places his hand back on the grip on his gun. He frowns as he realises how familiar this worn grip has gotten over the years. As he nears the voice he screams...

Alright everyone freeze, he flashes his badge.
Chester Gould, no one make any sudden movements, whats going on in here?

[Penril]

Jonathan

You retire to one of the elegant leather chairs in the corner, which you gives a clear view of the carriage. To your right, you can see the world look like a painter's pallet, a blur of green and grey. At the bar, there are still plenty of people, but one in particular catches your eye. A tall man with a bare head like an eagle's egg stands with his back to you. He is dressed in a navy blue suit, perfectly fitting to his skinny frame and his black shoes reflect the lights around the walls. He appears to be conversing with a shorter fellow with a mop of dark curls. You raise an eyebrow as you watch the pair. Whatever the taller man has whispered to him has caused the shorter man, who is nearer to you, to visibly quake with fright. He tries to turn away, but the larger man grabs his arm, causing the other patrons to turn. The bald man has a pair of deep-set eyes and formidable, hooked nose and a slightly crooked jaw. He continues to whisper to the curly-haired man, who seems to become compliant and the pair walk towards the door into the next carriage, just to your left. However, just before they get there, the bald man cries out as his seemingly coerced captive shoves him into the bar, sending a pile of china crockery crashing onto the floor behind the bar. The other patrons begin to protest loudly as the curly haired figure disappears behind the door and the other man struggles to get to his feet. If this isn't enough, another, more familiar voice calls from the other end of the carriage, behind a how of outraged drinkers. "Alright everyone freeze,Chester Gould, no one make any sudden movements, whats going on in here?" and you groan.

All

Coming from the bar carriage, you hear a large crash and the sound of many voices raised.

Chester

You burst into the carriage and seeing nothing amiss, into the next with more enthusiasm than perhaps the people inside were expecting. Half the crowd you are suddenly faced with turn back to their drinks while another says "Relax, sir. No need for all the drama, just an accident by the looks of things." "Yes!" says another, "You yanks and all your showyness, I suggest you learn how to behave in public." This takes you by suprise to say the least, but from where you are standing, you can see through the busy carriage a tall, bald man getting swiftly to his feet, an impressivly deep cut on this white dome and hand. He moves through the door with the speed and urgency of someone Getting Away.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Sir, I said freeze! Chester jogs after the man shoving anyone who was impolite enough to comment on his entrance.

I'm going to have to ask you to answer a few questions. Please stop! What is going on here?

If Chester reaches the man he grabs his shoulder to try to stop him. If he makes any dangerous movements he'll draw his gun instead.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan

Startled by the voice, Jonathan quickly looks around for a newspaper or something to cover his face. Failing that, he pulls out the Divine Comedy and buries his face in that. It would not do to be seen by this yellow-coated PI. What? Why is that oaf on this train? He must have found some other clue leading him to the asylum. This needs to be dealt with. However, a man of his talents--however limited--could prove useful. Perhaps I should commission him. Either way, it would to be prudent to not let him see me at this moment.

[Penril]

Chester

The door slides shut an inch from your grasp and you curse as you see the reatreating back reading up the next carriage. You wrench the door aside and tear off in pursuit! You neatly slidestep a refreshment trolley and dart through the next sliding door into the next carriage and stop dead. The bald man has his back to you and is clearly holding what looks like a member of train staff as a hostage and is shouting at the door beyond. A quick assessment of the scene shows the central corridor flanked by rows of worried travellers. The corridor is only a few feet wide and there is nowhere to hide once you are inside the carriage. "Very cute," he calls "Now come on out like a good boy and I won't have to hurt my friend, here"

((Make a Spot check))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester looks around for the best route to take before entering the next car. He takes off his coat and hat as he quietly opens the door. He then tries to put his jacket, the hat, and his briefcase down behind the nearest seat as he draws his gun on the man with the hostage.

If the man notices Chester then he instantly drops everything and draws his gun. If not, Chester is going to try to sneak about rows behind the man then sit down and make sure the man can't see his gun. If for any reason he is founf out, he fires.

Spot [roll0]
Move Silently [roll1]
Attack [roll2]

[Penril]

Chester

The assailant seem preoccupied with his struggling hostage and you slip into position, two rows behind him. The terrified woman next to you is too busy trying to hide to notice your intentions.

Jonathan

You breath a sigh of relief as the detective rushes past you and you lower the paper. The bar patrons have settled down now, though one or two are straining their necks to try and see what's going on.You glance down at your drink to find that a small amount has spilled out of the glass and now stains the snowy white tablecloth.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester sits and waits to see what this man is truely after. If he tries to harm anyone, Chester will shoot him before he gets the chance.

*Hmm, this could be useful. If this man is here for the reason I believe, this could get very interesting. Let's just see how this plays out.*

If you want me to use that initial attack roll I used just use that. If not, here is another if he tries to harm someone.
[roll0]

[Penril]

Chester

"Come now, Mr Last. There's no need to be unreasonable and risk this poor man's life. Come on out, I just want to ask you a few questions - " he stops to get a firmer grip on his wriggling hostage. You hear a metalic sound and he chuckles. "I'll take these, sir" he says with a smirk as he unhooks a small ring of keys from the guard's belt. He shoves the terrified man onto a pair of travellers in the row adjacent to him and moves up towards to door, a key in hand. From beyond the glass, you can just about see a figure in the dark carriage beyond moving frantically.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Once the detective moves into the next cart, Langston stands and walks over to a group of travelers nearest to where the bald man and the curly-haired man had been 'conversing'.

"I say, this is certainly more excitement than I had expected on a simple train ride. Did you possibly hear what those two men were arguing over before rushing out of the car? I figure with a detective in pursuit, it must be something fascinating."

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*Uhg, I didnt want it to come to this so quickly.*

Chester then gets up, draws his gun and quickly, and quietly aproaches the his foe. He holds his gun head height prepared to fire if theman turns around.

If I get all the way up to the man then I will yell
Drop the weapon, and the keys, and get on the ground.

Intimidate [roll0]
Attack [roll1]
Move Silently [roll2]

[Penril]

Jonathan

One man turns to you, sporting a wonderfully maintained goatee and exclaims "Exactly what we where saying, sir! Tennison here says he heard the the taller one mention a murder of all things!" The one presumably named Tennison, a heavy set man with a ridiculaous toupee nods enthusiatically "Poppycock!" cries another "Archie, you and Tennison will do anything to cause a stir!" The other man, a tall, well dressed fellow in his fifties chides the goateed man. "I heard what he said and what he said was simply that the curley-haired fellow come with him in order to prevent unpleasantries"
"Fine," replies Archie "But think about it, there must be something afoot. A stranger walks up to you and says 'Come along chummy and there'll be no funny business'. Makes you like that the curley-haired chap has a skeleton or two in his closet and that, Thomas," he says striking the bar with the palm of his hand smugly "Is something to get stirred up about!" Thomas sighs and returns to his drink. You get the impression that this trio have had similar discussions before. The one named Archie turns back to you. "Archie Flash, freelance photographer!" he cries enthusiastically, thursting forth a hand.

Chester

The bald man sighs, freezes and drops his weapon and the keys without a word and quietly lays face down on the ground, with his arms behind his back. "You have me at a disadventage, sir" he says with a sly, self-assured tone.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester kicks the keys and gun to the adge of the car then looks up at the passengers. He looks for a strapping you man and says

You! No, not you, the man behind you in the bowler. Come here and handcuff this madman.

Chester then keeps his gun trained on the prone man as he pulls out his handcuffs and gives them to the young man.

Now sir, what is it you think you were doing here? Holding people hostage, threatening perfectly innocent civilians.

Chester walks over to the keys and the gun andpicks them up as the young man handcuffs the assailent. He puts the gun in his own holster and clasps it shut.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Langston returns the handshake in a more reserved manner,
"Jonathan Langston, poet. Pleased to meet you, sir.

Would I be wrong in assuming you generally work with newspapers? If so, I suspect you're missing some rather interesting photo opportunities. I've encountered that detective before and he's not very subtle, as we saw when he burst in here."

Jonathan sips his drink while awaiting a reply. Yes, I suppose I'll have to approach that detective and take him in hand. Else he'll simply get in my way and make a general mess of things.

[Penril]

Chester

The man's voice is muffled slightly due to the thick red carpet. "Sir, I need to speak with this man as a matter of urgency. There are matters at hand that are more important than you, myself or anybody here. In the end you'll realise the mistake you are making." The man does not struggle as the young man you selected, a bright-eyed, keen looking gentleman, applies the handcuffs.

Jonathan

The gentleman laughs heartily, a high, slightly off-putting sound. "No sir, I work for a much more prestigious patron. I am a photographer for the acclaimed National Geographic Magazine!" he says with a flourish, basking in his own acclaim. "yes, I've been all over the world with my trust camera, braving fierce jungles and impassable mountains! All in search of truth and knowledge for my fellow man!" As he goes on to talk about his work, you get the impression that he has rehearsed this introduction many times before and judging by his demeanor, it is an attempt to impress men and delight women.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langsont

"Yes sir, that is quite impressive. You do this work with your friends here?"

Langston gestures at Thomas and Tennison, adopting a polite and civil tone. Meanwhile, he's attempting to hear what's going on in the next cabin, where a certain-trigger-happy-detective just barged in.

Listen [roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Who is this man you are looking for? We will bing him here and we will all have a nice fine talk to see just what all of this is about.

If the man gives a description, a send a staff member of the train to go find him and bring him here.

[Penril]

Jonathan

"You mean these milksops? Nay! We go way back though, Tennison here runs chain of fine tailors and Thomas, the old misery-guts that he his, works for a law firm." As the others begin to comment on their respective vocations, you strain your ears for the sound of action, but to your suprise, you hear no crashing, no gun shots and no shouting. Very strange. As you ponder on this, another thought wanders through your reflective mind. A photographer, a tailor and a lawyer all from different vocations and areas, judging by their accents. They can't be school friends given the age difference between them, so you reason that they must have fought in the war together.

Chester

"His name is Felix Last and among other things, he's wanted for murder. He's a pale little sod with curly dark hair, dressed in a cheap, brown suit. He's in there." The man gestures with his head towards the locked door. You nod with satisfaction, then blink. You feel that somehow this is too easy, the man clearly isn't an authority, but he has allowed himself to be captured. Why is this? And why is he so compliant in the potential capture of this Last fellow? If he is beyond the law, then the last thing he would want is Last in jail. Then again, you did have a gun and his demeanor of confidence may be just a mask. After all, you are an authority, people normally do what you say anyway ...

You shake the conflicting, paranoia from your mind and chide yourself. A clear head is what is needed now.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Surprised by Chester's lack of volume, Langston coolly takes another sip of his drink--he's the sort of man who always takes sips--and thinks to himself, No distrubances? No gunshots? Perhaps the trouble is over. Still, better safe than sorry. I may as well waste another word or two on these veterans.

Lowering his glass and casually swirling it's contents, Jonathon inquires of the trio, "So, tell me chaps, what's your stop today? I myself am off to Liverpool for business."

[Penril]

Jonathan

"We are bound for Chester as a matter of fact, we intend on meeting some of the old gang and we're all going to spend a few days enjoying some well deserved rest and relaxation!" Thomas snorts at Archie's last comment "When was the last time you had any work, Archibald?" he asks haughtily, before grinning wide. Tennison also chuckles into his drink. You see in Archie a sudden look of anger and embarisment, but it vanishes as quickly as his drinks and he retorts "Well, at least I am still able-bodied, old man." and all three laugh once more, evidently enjoying some kind of in-joke.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Well my friend,we are going to find Mr. Last.

Chester pulls the man up with his gun at his back walking him towards the door.

Don't try anything funny, I'm not in the mood today.

The two men then walk off searching for this mystery man.

[Penril]

Chester

You thrust your charge ahead of you as you approach the door and clumsily unlock the door in the tight space. You step into a dark carriage full of suitcases and luggage. There are plently of places to hide within the shadowy corners and the light shining in thorugh the door just about illumintaes another door at the far end.

((Make a Spot check))

[Dustfinger]

Chester


Alright Mr. Last, come out right now with your hands up. Sir there is no use in hiding, I know you are here just come out.

Spot [roll0]

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Finishing his glass, Langston politely excuses himself from the veterans and attempts to return to his seat.

[Penril]

Chester

A thorough scan of the room reveals that Mr Last is not, in fact, in here. You carefully poke around the dark corners and investigate some of the larger cases, but find nothing. Trying the door, you find it locked on this side so you assume he hasn't gone through there. You are about to give up when you notice a soft breeze chilling the back of your neck. Peering up, you see a hatch in the ceiling, just out of arm's reach. The hatch is everso slightly ajar and looking down, you can see an over-turned case, presumably used as a step up, then kicked aside. You stare at the hatch for a long moment and sigh heavily as you realise where the hatch is most likely to lead.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester quickly re-cuffs the man he is with a a pole or some other large immovable object them makes for the hatch. He uses the same case that the other man used to get up. Chester then peers around, trying to find this man, this Felix Last.

Alright Mr. Last, I have a few quesions for you. If you've done nothing wrong then just come here and let's talk.

Chester prepares to fire if Mr. Last tries to get the drop on him.

Spot [roll0]
Prepared Attack (If he attacks me) [roll1]

[Penril]

Chester

You push open the hatch to find a small ante-space and a slightly smaller, steel hatch. From the other side, you can hear the sound of rushing wind and rythmic "clack-clack" of tracks. You push this hatch up and out and torrent of rushing wind bursts into the space. You can barely hear your self think and have to clamp a hand heavily onto you head to avoid losing your hat. You can see down the length of the long train from here, as well as the verdant, green countryside, which seems to shine in the mist and haze of the recent wet weather. About ten feet away from you, almost at the end of this carriage, you can see a wind-swept figure staggering against the tremendous forces which threaten to sweep him off the roof of the carriage at any moment. Judging by the tangle of curled locks, you recognise him as Mr Last. Walking out on the roof of a speeding train in weather like this is suicidal, especially when you take into account that a tunnel could rise up suddenly and leave you splashed across some cliff or mountainside.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester see's the man on the far end of the train and then screams to get his attention.

Mr. Last! It is safe now, I caught the man that was chasing after you! You can come down now with no worries, he is handcuffed, he's no harm to you now.

Chester lowers his gun and starts to walk towards the man.

Come on, now get inside.

[Penril]

Chester

((Make a Balance check))

Your cries seem to reach the man's ears because he turns slowly, keeping his arms out to balance him on the slippery roof. As he begins to make his way back to you in slow, careful steps, he calls something to you.

((Make a Listen check and a Sense Motive check))

[Dustfinger]

Chester
*Oh God, what have I gotten myself into now. It's cold, windy and slippery and I left my coat and hat in the train. Oh crap he's talking to me, I better listen.*

Balance [roll0]
Listen [roll1]
Sense Motive [roll2]

[Penril]

Chester

You balance yourself against the buffeting winds and try to make out what the man is saying, but his words are lost on the wind. However, you infer from his wide eyes glancing behind you and the fact that he is diving for the floor, indicates that something very, very bad is coming your way.

((Make a Reflex save))

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Excuse me, what! I can't hear you! Oh God.

Chester dives onto the floor back towards the hatch.

Reflex [roll0]

[Penril]

Chester

You spin around and see, to your horror, a high, rocky hill ruching towards you! The train is whooshing through a tunnel and you dive for cover just in time to avoid a sticky end. You hit the damp, metal roof and gasp as the wind is knocked out of you. As you rush through the dark, billowing space, you cling on for dear life and you feel a sudden, sharp pain in your back that almost causes you to loose your hold. You can feel your warm blood seeping through your shirt, but you grit your teeth and cling on, white-knuckled to the roof. After what seems like an age, light bursts back in again and you slowly pull yourself onto your side and peer down the train towards Mr Last, but find that you are alone.

Less than six feet away, smeared along the roof, but becoming more obscured by the damp and the wind is a singular, bloody handprint. A familiar chill runs down your spine as you begin to imagine the poor man's fate.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester stands up carefully and walks back to the hatch. He then jumps down inside.

That was close. The man killed himself. His body is crushed up against the side of a cliff. Now come on. Give me the full story on him.

Chester takes the handcuffed man back towards where he left his things. Once he has them he goes to get a drink.

[Penril]

Chester

You retreive your belongings from the vacant seat and order yourself a stiff drink to calm your adrenalin-shaken body.

((Sorry to slow this down a mite, but where are you planning on interviewing this man? The bar, one of the carriages or in the luggage compartment?))

[Penril]

Chester

Considering it more prudent to conduct these matters in private, you leave your prisoner safely handcuffed to a handy railing in the luggage carriage and make your way back to the bar. Your windswept hair and shaken demenaour draw a number of looks from the other patrons at the bar.

((Jonanthan and Chester, Spot checks both please.))

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Spot [roll0]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

*Uhg my back... I'll get though this day if it kills me. And even if it does, i'm dying with a drink in my hand a smile on my face.*

Spot [roll0]

[Penril]

Jonathan

You notice the door slide back open and the detective return to the bar.
You can try a hide check to disguise yourself as you did before if you want to, roll against Chester's Spot check.

Both
((OOC: since Jonathan has the high Dex of the pair of you, I'll allow Janthan to react first and then Chester can respond as appropriate, if applicable))

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

At the Chester's entrance, Jonathan suppresses a sigh and attempts to drain his already empty glass before taking his leave of the veterans and approaching the dashingly disheveled apprentice.

"Mr. Gould? What the devil are you doing here?"

Rasing his left hand to his chin Langston mutters, almost as if to himself, "Still, I suppose this does make things easier."

Jonathan extends a hand in greeting, "I don't suppose you would be interested in a job, old boy?"

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Hello, Langston was it? I'm here following a lead on another case. But still, sit down have a drink we'll talk about this job. Barkeep, two shots of absinthe.

Chester gulps down his drink waiting for the next to arrive.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

"Yes, Langston. Jonathan Langston, the poet."

After Chester receives his drink, Jonathan steers him towards a more private table.

"Listen, you remember the disturbance the other day at the library? It turns out the book stolen was one I had hoped to use as research for my next poem. It was called, "The King in Yellow." I suspect this is why I was attacked, I was looking for the same book as our thief. Anyway, I need that book to complete my commission. The good commissioner told me that they thought the thief was an inmate at an asylum out at Liverpool, so I decided to come looking for clues. I had planned on hiring a detective when I reached the city, but since you're already on the train, are you interested?"

While he waits for an answer, Langston calmly pulls out his pipe and begins to puff it amicably. Or, rather, what Langston interprets as amicably. His friendly smile looks stern and disapproving, his amicable smoking looks vaguely disdainful and disgusted.

[Penril]

Jonathan & Chester

Chester gulps down the volatile liquid, allowing the aniseed taste to run seductively down his throat and into his belly, warming it instantly. The drink does well to sooth the sharp pain in his back. The barman pours out a second glass of the Green Fairy as Mr Langston's pipe smokes into life and you move back to the table by the door. Langston's sudden interest and attempted hospitality is marred by his evident lack of social graces, but the prospect is perfectly appealing; an investigation into the occult, full of peril, set against the backdrop of a mad house.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester looks around the car pondering to himself.

*Hmm, it looks like this man hasn't been perfectly honest with me. Kept information from me at the library. Let's see what he's really up to.*

Realizing he was staring at the ceiling stroking his chin as he thought, he brings his attention back to Mr. Langston.

Of course, of course, this does sound quite interesting, I'll acompany you and help search for your book.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Wonderful, the fool fell perfectly into my plan. Precisely as I knew he would. Mr. Gould is precisely the sort of person you'd find in any dime store novel. He probably believes right and wrong can be defined by men of action. Ha!

Grinning somewhat stiffly--a master poet rarely has need to grin--Langston extends his hand to the detective, "Excellent, sir! I must confess, I'll feel a good deal better with you at my side. I've seen how capable you can be. Now, this doesn't take you out of the way at all? I don't want to force you off whatever mission you were on."

Langston sits patiently puffing his pipe as the proud private eye properly answers the question then,

"Oh, I see. Did you hear about the disturbance on this train earlier? I heard there was foul play, in this room."

I'm willing to take out that last question if you have an answer that doesn't lead properly to it.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

No sir it shouldn't take me too far out of the way, i'm used to running multiple cases at one time. The dispute on the train actualy had to do with a case of mine. Also, if you'll excuse me I have to get back to that.

Chester then gets up and starts walking back toward the luggage cart.

*Gould! How could you be so stupid? You just left a man who had a gun in the luggage cart while you made small talk! I need to get back.*

Chester then starts to jog towards the cart hoping the man is still there.

[Lepre_Khan]

Langston

"Of course, of course.", Jonathan follows along behind his new 'partner'.

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan

You make your way back to the luggage carriage to find, to your mild surprise, that your captive is in fact, still handcuffed to the railing, siting on the floor as comfortably as his restraints allow. When you re-enter he looks up at you with a savvy grin and says "I thought you'd forgotten about me, inspector"

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Langston recoils slightly in shock at the prisoners grin. Shock--not fear, never fear. Fear was beneath a member of the Golden Dawn and so Jonathan quickly straightened himself and met the gaze of the captive while still puffing away at his pipe. With one hand clutching tightly to a pen in his pocket--simply out of habit, not nerves--Jonathan slouched against the door frame and attempted to look calm and a bit bored, precisely as he felt an assistant to an interrogation ought to look.

After all, prior to yesterdays near fatal encounter, the most terrifying thing Langston could think of were Royal Clerks out to receive taxes. So the poet looked on feigning boredom, striving to bring the full terror of his clerical prowess upon the poor soul who Chester had handcuffed to the rail.

The twists in his stomach were from excitement and anticipation, not fear.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Well well, looks like you stayed put, that's nice. Well now, back to the questions you need to answer. Why were you chasing down that man. I want your personal reason, not the load you said earlier. What brought you both here. Come one spill it.

Chester lights a cigarette and blows the smoke towards Mr. Langston.

Just sit over there on that crate will ya, i'll be done in a minute.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan

Visibly deflating, Langston plops himself down on a crate and pulls out a pen and some scraps of paper. I suppose the least I can do is get a poem out of this. Now let's see...

Crafter (Poetry) [roll0]

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan

Grinning at the detective's direct approach, the captive replies I have been sent here to aprehend Mr Felix Last, who is wanted in connection with a series of most grisly deaths. While not ... freelance as you are, we share a common goal do we not? To protect people of this noble land? If it will make you any happier, I can tell you that I work for the government, but I am not at liberty to divulge further.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

And why should I believe a word you are saying? You came onto the train waving a gun everywhere chasing someone down like a madman. If you have any proof to back up this rediculous story, then show me now.

Chester takes the last puff of his ciggarette and lets it gently fall from his lips to the floor as he lights another.

I want to believe you I really do, come on, let's see it.


Sense Motive [roll0]
Diplomacy [roll1]

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan

The man considers you with a humouring gaze for a moment before lowering his head in compliance. "I assure you that any actions I make in this regard have carefully taken into account the risks involved. We do this only for the protection of the nation. I you insist on learning more, go to my seat in the carriage beyond the bar and look in the overhead rails for a green, leather bag. Although I must warn you, prying too much into our matters comes with considerable risk. The more you know, the shorter your life becomes."

He seems willing to comply request, but you cannot ascertain his motives for doing so. His threats, against the strange composure and confidence of this curious man, seem almost frighteningly real, but you shrug it off as little more than bravado.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Standing up, Langston stuffs his notes back into his pocket and, briefcase in hand heads to the door of the improvised interrogation room.

"Don't worry Chester, I'll get it. Now then Mr. --, I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name. You are...?

Jonathan leaves the question in the air feeling quite clever with his subtle attempt at interrogation. When the handcuffed gentleman either answers of refuses to answer, Jonathan continues on.

"I see. Either way, you were sitting where exactly?"

With more precise directions to the seat, Langston heads off to retrieve the unfortunately colored bag.

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan

My name is Lyle Spacey, sir. I was sitting at seat P5, aisle seat, on the left. Comes the courteous reply. You head off to find the back and duely locate it above seat P5.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Well Mr. Spacey, we'll see just if you are telling the truth or not. Well well well, here's the mysterious case you were talking about.

Chester takes the bag from Mr. Langston opens the case and searches through it.

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan

Inside the bag is a leather portfolio, a small, slightly soft package wrapped in brown paper and a pair of handcuffs.

Within the portfolio are two thick paper files, one titled Last, Felix C. The other Tomkins, Valerie E. At a cursory glance they appear to be personnel files of some kind, but you will need to take time to read through the detail. Your captive remains silent as you peruse the documents.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

"Here detective, let me see those. I'm used to filing through papers. One of the curses of my profession."

Langston snatches the porfolio's from Chester and begins to read though them, looking for any useful or relevant information.


Felix Last :Research [roll0]
Valerie E. Tomkins: Research [roll1]

Furthermore, if anything is a reference to either the Occult, something Theological, or Literary, I'm going to make a knowledge check to get the reference. I know this is metagaming, I'm just trying to get as many rolls in one post as possible.

For Felix:
Theology [roll2]
Forbidden Lore [roll3]
Literature [roll4]

For Val:
Theology [roll5]
Forbidden Lore [roll6]
Literature [roll7]

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Excuse me Mr. Langston, what the hell do you think you're doing? Hand me those files right now and make your way back to your seat. We'll talk once i'm done here.

If Lagston gives the files back he looks through them.

Excuse him, he's a bit of an odd fellow, a poet of sorts.

Research [roll0]
Okay, I didn't want to have to do that, because I know he'll be more useful than I am, but like, I can't break character that much.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Coloring--whether from rage or embarrassment was somewhat unclear--Langston replies, "What am I doing? Helping you out, sir. A word?"

Files still in hand, Langston steps out of the interrogation room. Chester, presumably, follows.

"Like it or not, I am far more able to deal with this sort of thing that you. I bow to your handling of interrogating the criminal, I know nothing of that world and, frankly, am completely content with knowing nothing of that world. However, when it comes to unlocking secrets from cryptic and vague files I--a guest lecturer at Oxford and published poet--am far more qualified than you. You deal with the hearts of men, I deal with their minds revealed through ink. View ours as a partnership, of sorts. You know as well as I do that without me you'd have to take this files to some sort of specialist to help you anyway, allow me to be your specialist.

Go inside and interrogate the prisoner, I will let you know what I learn."

When, and if, Chester goes inside, Langston leans against the wall and begins to breeze through the files.

If it's alright, I'll just keep the same rolls as before.

Dustfinger- While I realize it's out of character for you to trust me with this, it's out of character for me to be approaching Gould at all. I tihnk we should stretch the characters a little bit to let us work together, else we'll just have two independent and (often) conflicting missions that will probably end with Langston writing offensive verse about Chester and muttering darkly and have Gould shooting Jonathan.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester glances down at his feet, realizing Mr. Langston is right.

Fine, I guess you're right. Now just wait here while I go back inside. *Now come on Langston, give me a reason to trust you...*

Chester walks back into the "interrogation room". He begins smoking again, this time more heavily.

Well now, come on, spill it. Now you tell me why you have those files, and if you really are a government agent, just give me some proof and i'll get rid of the cuffs. People don't usualy talk much while in them.

[Penril]

Chester

"Proof? You mean besides the secret files? Which, incidently, I have because I need them for my mission." he composes himself once more and adds "Well, there is my access card i suppose, but it's in my jacket pocket and," he shrugs and jangles the handcuffs against the railing.

[Penril]

Langston

Pinned to Mr Last's file is a sheet of paper:
http://pic90.picturetrail.com/VOL2165/11107139/19715763/318032130.jpg

You begin sorting through the files. The first page on each contains general infomation about each person: Name, date of birth, of kin, occupation, blood group etc. Along with a small photo of said individual pinned to the top od the page.

Inside Mr Last's file you find a report
http://pic90.picturetrail.com/VOL2165/11107139/19715763/318032132.jpg

In both files you find this report:
http://pic90.picturetrail.com/VOL2165/11107139/19715763/318032131.jpg

Also inside Miss Tomkins' file are a large amount of notes from the Wyrd Hospital for the Mentally Unstable, London. These notes will take a lot longer to sort through.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

I'm sorry, forgive me for going after an armed man taking hostages on a train. I was just going through regular precautions. One moment while I go talk to Mr. Langston to get your files back.

Chester walks out of the cabin closing the door behind him.

Langston, he checks out, unless you found anything important out. I'm gonna need you to put the files away so we can give them back. Just join me back in there once everything is settled.

As Chester is saying all of this he is unloading Mr. Spacey's gun and dropping the bullets into his coat pocket. Finaly, Chester puts Spacey's gun back in his pocket and walks back to the handcuffed man.

Sorry once again. He's putting the files away to give them back to you. Here...

Chester unlocks the handcuffs and puts them in his pocket.

And, I believe this is yours.

Chester hands him his gun.

Now, let's see that access card.

[Penril]

Chester

Mr Spacey gives you an amused smile and you move in and unlock the cuffs. As you turn awkwardly to unlock the restraints, you can feel his eyes scanning your face. Once released, he stands just close enough to you to make you feel uncomfortable and reaches into his jacket without taking his pale eyes from yours. He pulls out what appears to be a thick business card and offers it out for inspection. On the face is the symbol of Britannia and below it are the words “Mr L Spacey, Level 2 Access” You flick the card over, but the other side is blank. “Sorry it’s only Level 2 Access” he says as you squint at the card “Desk jobs aren’t my thing, I prefer it in the field. May I go?”

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Yes, you're free to go. Take your files from Mr. Langston on the way out.

Chester then walks back to the bar, motioning for Langston to follow him.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Langston is seated on the floor outside the door copying as much of the data as he can into one his notebooks. Seeing the two men step out, Langston looks up,
Ah, hello detective, Mr. Spacey. I suppose everything checks out then? I'm glad to know we have Operation Cypher to protect us from 'grisly murderers' like Mr. Last."

Langston makes no move to hand over the files.

I'll let you use you DM discretion as to what I was able to write down in this time. The key facts I really want are

Mr. Felix Last, Miss Valerie Tomkins, Mr. H Davidson (newspaper), Detective Stephen Crane.

25 Merrion Avenue, SW6.

Operation Orchid/Cypher/Exodus.

Giza Dig Site 3 -- 14/1/1923. Being #032.

London SW3, 7PF. Greenwood Abbatoir (est. 1807) Being #475. (wave anomalies?)

Wyrd Hospital for the Mentally Unstable (Tomkins), London.

And, lastly, Sense Motive [roll0] on whatever Spacey tries to say.

[Penril]

Jonathan

You jot down as much as you can from the files, but the medical notes are lengthy and you don't discern anything of note from your quick glance. You infer from the notes some kind of serious emotional tarauma, hallucinations and delierium, but nothing more specific. "Ah, the clerk I presume," he says as you return the papers "I trust it was an insightful read."
Rather than wait for a response, Mr Spacey leaves the bar and returns to his seat, offering a polite nod to Chester.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

Sighing, Langston returns the papers and follows Chester to the bar. Once they're seated--presumably at a corner table away from prying eyes and ears that makes Langston feel very much like a detective or some other sort of adventurous fellow in those dimestore novels that a proper poet would never read unless confiscated from a student--Jonathan leans over to Gould and whispers, "Well, what was that all about?"

I figured I'd get the game going again, though I'm still a little confused about the actions of Spacey in response to my own.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Everything checked out on my end, he seem's to actualy be a federal officer. What did you figure out from the files? Anything that could show he's not who he says he is? I still don't trust that a trained government agent would be so messy with an investigation. It seems Mr. Spacey needs to be a bit more responsible when on the job.

Chester slouches in his seat and lets out a gaping yawn.

Excuse me, barkeep! 3 shots of scotch if you will.

[Penril]

Jonathan & Chester

The barman summons forth refreshments as Mr Spacey leaves to go about his business.

Jonathan, you sit and stare at the files that the captive has made no move to take. Why is this? What benefit is there to leaving such important documents in the hands of a complete stranger? As you begin to attempt the reasoning, your thoughts are interrupted by the presence of a drink placed before you. As you gaze thoughtfully at the ice which shifts in the amber liquor, you get the curious feeling that you were meant to have the information before you. The idea hangs in your head like an inviting, though dangerous will-o-whisp.

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan

"Chester, who exactly did this Mr. Spacey work for? What agency?" The words come out cool, clipped, and precise. Spacey leaving the notes behind was troubling--unless he was somehow affiliated with the Order.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

He refused to say much of anythign at all. I gave up after a while and trusted that you would be able to figure that out and tell me. Perhaps we should tail Mr. Spacey once we leave the train. It would be hard, and a long shot, but it just might work.

Chester drinks down two of the shots, leaving the third in the middle of the table. Within Langston's reach if he desires to partake of it.

You're saying the papers you have say nothing of any agency he works for. No letterheads, or footings give any clue? I don't trust this Spacey...

[Penril]

Chester

As you open your mouth to reply, you absent mindedly run your hands over the edge of the procured files and pause as you notice, for the first time, the presence of a paper clip pinning somthing to the inside of the back cover of Mr Last's file. Curious, you open the file backwards and find, in the face of all uncanny possibility, a card. Your mouth drops open at the sight of the small business card. Whomever these people are, they certainly like hiding in plain sight!

http://pic90.picturetrail.com/VOL2165/11107139/19715763/319208136.jpg

[Lepre_Khan]

Jonathan Langston

A bit peeved that he had missed the card--one so obviously hidden at that--Langston snaps a response, "No, I wasn't able to figure out what agency employs Mr. Spacey. The files are damned vague. I don't suppose you recognize any of these names?

Mr. Felix Last. Miss Valerie Tomkins. Mr. H Davidson, he's a newspaper chap. Or perhaps your fellow, Detective Stephen Crane? The rest of the information had to do with the sitings of strange creatures and 'wave anomolies', whatever those may be. He also seems to be particularly concerned with the state of Ms. Tomkins mental health.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester's slams his hand on the table, knocking over the last shot of scotch. As the amber fluid drips off of the table he cries out...

FELIX!

He then settles himself as he glances at all the eyes that are now on him. He then slides the files towards his side of the table as he whispers.

I knew the name Felix Last sounded familiar. I've worked with him before. He was a freelance reporter for the Independence and sometimes worked with the police while I was on the force. I can't believe I had forgotten that name until now.

Chester slouches in towards Langston supporting his head with his left hand.

I know Crane too. He was on the force with me, we all worked together at the same time, Crane, Last and I. Crane became a detective much like myself. He was perhaps my greatest rival as a detective, he was almost an inspiration for me.

Chester looks down at the files and begins reading them.

What about this symbol here on this card, do you recognize it? One as intelligent as yourself would have to recognize it.

Chester says that in an almost patronizing tone, then goes back to reading.

So what do these files say about Crane?

Research [roll0]

[Penril]

Chester

The only reference to Crane is in the reports as written. There is no mention of him in the medical notes and you would not be suprised if the man did not have his own file. The last you heard of him, he was still operating out of London, in his office by Tower Bridge.

[Lepre_Khan]

Anger at the Detective's insult slips into Langston's voice,"A man as intelligent as I am isn't often stuck in criminal investigations or dealing with false government agents. I'm a poet." None the less he takes the business card and the files from Gould. Calming himself, he extracts the pieces of paper concerning Stephen Crane and shows the detective."Let me help with this. Look, here he's mentioned in Egypt with Miss A. Simmons, possibly causing some sort of explosion at the dig? Then, at around the same time, he's suspected of Arson. Both times he's associated with your friend Felix Last. You have any idea what this could be about? Look at some of the other notes, unidentified beings at both the Giza Site and in Greenwood Abbatoir and quite a high body count at both places. I think we need to pay your friend Crane a visit. After our business in Liverpool is settled. Now as for this card..."

Knowledge Theology [roll0]
Knowledge Literature [roll1]
Knowledge Forbidden Lore [roll2]

Also: I'm going to look through the medical files for any reference to the asylum in Liverpool. Reckon we may as well try to find out as much as we can while we're here. Research [roll3]

[Penril]

Jonathan

You discern nothing from the notes regarding the establishment in Liverpool. It seems as though Mr Last admitted Miss Tomkins into the one institute in London direct. As for the business card, you recognise the symbol instantly as the archaic symbol for arsnic, used in thirteenth century alchemy. A thought probes at your mind as you discern this, but it's significance is not clear.

By now the train guard stolls up the carriages heralding the end of the line and the train begins to pull to a stop.

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester stands and picks up all of his things and motions to Langston.

Looks like this is where we get off. Grab the files and let's go.

He then begins to walk towards the nearest door to the outside.

*Somethings wrong here but I can't put my finger on it. Stephen, Felix, and I. It's no coincidence I can tell you that right now. I guess I can do is go to this hospital and search for any sign of this Miss Tomkins. Hopefully she will be able to tell me what's going on.*

[Penril]

Chester & Jonathan
You depart the train as it glides to a whooshing halt, expelling great billowing clouds of steam and join the swell of commuters that swarm across the platform to the exit, where they form untidy queues before the watchful eyes of the platform staff.

You join a queue and watch the trudging slaves of the clerical life, almost all clad what appears to be the same drab, grey suit. You make your way outside into the city of Liverpool and take a deep draught of the city air. The air displays the typical, turbulent April weather, heavily laden, battleship-grey clouds adrift in a bright blue sky. Now though, the sun pierces the haze of factory smoke and you feel warmly after the London rain. From your position outside the station, you can see, across the street, the enormous grandeur of St George's Hall and its famously extravagant Minton tiles that surround it. Right now, the theatre is devoid of people, but during the evening, the dainty feet of many party goers and society revellers grace its beautiful floors.

http://www.liverpool.com/assets/_files/images/mar_07/lb_liv__1172741799_st-georgeshall-large.jpg

[Dustfinger]

Chester

Chester steps off the train, feeling like he's been held up within it's walls for close to an eternity. He stares across at the men trapped in their drab lives and gives a short moment of silence for the death of their character.

Well Mr. Langston, I believe we have waited here long enough, it's time to be off to the hospital to find out what is going on.


As Chester is talking to Jonathon, he is peering over his head and looking all around for Stephen Crane. When he doesn't find him, he shrugs and steps out of the train station and begins to head down the street towards the hospital.