Coc - Gaslight: Unexpected

11th November 1890
After the discussion Dr. Burnside decided to take a closer look at the body of the last victim. Mr. Roquefort wanted to have a look at his private library to see, if he could find out more about the phrase on the knife. I had nothing urgent to do and decided to offer the little help I could be in this task. I had no Idea research was so tedious. Now I know for certain that I will never pursue any kind of academic work. The research itself was not fruitful at all. Neither Mr. Roquefort nor I did find anything useful. For me it was rather frustrating. All this professional gibberish was barely comprehensible for me. After a tiresome two hours I decided to look for something relaxing in the fiction part of his library. There was a very fine collection of adventure novels.

Mr. Roquefort had no better luck than I had. So he decided to try the Library at the British Museum. Because of my lack in research skills I excused myself from this task; and we agreed to meet for dinner at the Club to put together his findings with the results of Dr. Burnside's examination. I went to lunch and took a walk through the streets of Mayfair. At early afternoon I arrived in my flat, where a letter of my dear sister Serena was waiting for me.

She wrote me of the inevitable visit that Scotland Yard had paid my parents. The Earl was not amused, as was expected. But my mother took it really hard. The problems she had with her heart were getting worse. Serena begged me, to stop with whatever I was doing in London. She even suggested for me to join the military. I, who could not shoot a fox on the hunt, in the army! In my response letter I told her of the events that had happened in the East End and promised her, that I would stop with my nightly adventures. What I didn't tell her was, that I was planning on entering Dr. Laydons home to have a look at the medical records of the Prince.

After writing a response it was time to get ready for dinner at the Club.

We met there at seven o'clock. And how did I miss Higgins! The girl was polite and made a great effort, but Higgins knew exactly what to bring at the right time. I didn't blame her. She had have no formal training in this matters and did the best she could. I did hope, they found a proper replacement soon. Then she could have returned to her original duties, which she had performed flawlessly, from what I had heard.

But back to the business at hand. Dr. Laydon reported on his findings, which confirmed his suspicion that the murderer knew exactly where to cut to get to the wanted organ. The whole task would have taken a trained man no longer than ten to fifteen minutes. Mr. Roquefort was looking into the works of a German archaeologer named Dümmichen, because he found his name while examining yesterday's crime scene. He was surprised to find out that Thomas Kincaid had read the exact same books shortly before his abduction. He was also surprised to find Catherine Kincaid at the library looking into the same matter. But in the end the books of Dümmichen weren't a big help, due to the fact that they were written in German, which no one of us understood.

Around eight o'clock we received a message. We were nearly startled. It was an invitation to an audience with the Prince at nine o'clock this very evening. I have to say, I was a little amused by the fact that I was the only one of us three, who was dressed appropriately for such occasion.

We arrived at St. James Palace at the appointed hour. A servant led us to the Prince. While going there I couldn't help but noticing the slightly dusty smell in the hallways. It gave me the impression of walking through a museum. And the sight as we reached the royal highness' reception hall was overwhelming. The whole room was filled with Egyptian artefacts, ranging from strange to beautiful. It was awe-inspiring. But as I saw the Prince himself, I was shocked, to say the least. He is not much older then myself, but he looked like a broken old man. We knew that he had health issues, but this was beyond our wildest imaginations.

He crouched on a sofa and was barely able to move. As we came closer we saw his haggard face and emaciated body. His hands were shaking with an uncontrollable tremor. This whole situation was really awkward for me. I was bereft of words. Fortunately, Dr. Burnside was able to lead the conversation. And also Mr. Roquefort regained his composure. But this view must have confused him, because he was addressing him as "Your Majesty", which is clearly inappropriate. But nobody made a fuzz about this. The situation was too serious.

I can't remember the details of the conversation for two reasons. First, I was rather tired after the short night I had. And second, at the end the strangest thing I had ever felt happened. After being given his medicine, he regained some strength, stood up and walked - as good as he could - in my direction. He fixated me with his eyes the whole way. Shortly before reaching me he stumbled and fell. I was just able to catch him. He was as light as a feather. He looked me straight into my eyes and for a moment I had the impression of looking deep into his soul. And his soul was like an abyss. And the abyss stared back at me and into my soul. This was a really unnerving feeling. Maybe the shock of seeing him so weak in combination with my weariness made my mind playing tricks on me. But maybe I was only rationalising this event not to lose my mind. With this event the audience was concluded and we were asked to leave.

I was expecting this hunt to be dangerous and exciting; but I definitely didn't expect something like this.

Intermission

Unfortunately, there was no 7th Sea role-playing last Friday. Normally, we should play every fortnight. But with half of the players unavailable due to other engagements we had to call it off. I am eager to continue the adventures and hope, nothing will interfere with our next scheduled session. So, be patient; I have to be, too.

Coc - Gaslight: Things, I did not need to know and did not want to do

On the next day, 11 November 1890 a few minutes to 9 am, I was on my way to Whitehall Place. Breakfast had been adequate, but a bit hasty. I arrived at New Scotland Yard on the first chimes of Big Ben. A constable led me to the designated meeting room. It took a while to get there, so, unfortunately, I entered a few minutes after the hour. But Inspector Fox gave me a look as if I had arrived half an hour late. I got the distinct feeling, he didn't like me.

Besides him, Dr. Burnside, Dr. Laydon, and Mr. Roquefort, also a Sir Jeffrey Hull, her majesty the queen's counsel, and Lady Catherine Kincaid were also attending this meeting. The later being the daughter of the missing Sir Thomas Kincaid. Seeing the queen's counsel here, gave me the impression, that there was a bit more going on, but a simple abduction. I could not have been more right.

First, Dr. Laydon gave his account on the events that had happened at the club yesterday. After going upstairs, the guest had shown Sir Thomas some documents, which had really upset him. Suddenly, four Arabic men had entered the room through the window and overpowered Sir Thomas and his guest. Two of these men had dragged these two out of the window and then had left with their price. The other two Arabs had stayed and the struggle had commenced, which had led the unfortunate killing of Higgins. This was in principle not new to me, except some of the details. But the news, which Inspector Fox and Sir Jeffrey revealed to us, were definitely troubling.

In the last few weeks there had been three murders in the East End. All three victims had been prostitutes. The modus operandi was the same every time. All three bodies had been cut open and an inner organ had been skilfully removed. Hearing the details made me rather indisposed. Maybe the hasty breakfast did its part in it. But nevertheless, I took my leave and left the room for a few minutes to catch some breath and regain my composure.

As I went back inside Dr. Burnside was still looking at photographs of the victims. The police suspected the murderer to be a professional like a butcher. But Dr. Burnside suggested, the murderer could as well be a medical practitioner. The mere thought of it appalled Dr. Laydon. And I had to silently agree with him. Why should a men who swore to save lives do such terrible things.

The other common finding at the places of the murders was even stranger. Crude drawings of the symbol for the Egyptian god Thot had been found on walls near the victims. This was the reason Scotland Yard consulted Sir Thomas Kincaid on these cases. Sir Thomas was well known to be an expert on Egyptian mythology. For the same reason the police suspected a connection of the murders to the "Egyptian League". Its goal is to collect and preserve Egyptian artefacts. Its chairman was none other than Prince Albert Victor the Duke of Clarence. This explained the involvement of Sir Jeffrey Hull, because it was important that the League and by this the Prince himself had to be cleared from any connection to this crimes as quickly as possible.

From Dr. Laydon's accounts on this matter it became clear that there was something wrong with the Prince, that could have had some significance for the case. Due to professional discretion he wouldn't tell as more. Sir Jeffrey offered to get an audience with the prince for Dr. Burnside, Mr. Roquefort and myself.

Up to this point it was all very interesting and, beside the sad nature of the crimes, a fascinating morning. But they really expected me to get personally involved in this. When I pointed out, that I was neither an expert on medicine nor on Egyptian mythology, and that I had nothing to offer for this investigation Inspector Fox took me aside on a word. (players might want to refrain from opening this part, not to spoil possible surprises in the game)

He told me, that he knew about my reputation due to nightly adventures and that my skills to this effect might be useful in the investigation. Oh, bugger! I knew this would backfire on me.

Life as a second son of a noble can be very dull. So, I was looking for some excitement in my life. Hence, I started to break into the homes of rich gentlemen to borrow one or two of their valuables. It was never about actually stealing anything. I always returned the goods as soon as the dust had settled. As I got gradually better at it, private homes began to lose their appeal. They were just too easy to get in. So I started breaking into museums. And last month the unthinkable happened: I got caught while looking for something worth borrowing in the British Museum.

My family was shocked and embarrassed. But due to my father's influence the incident was hushed up under the one condition, that I would refrain myself from doing anything like this again. They also advised me to leave London for a while. Until a few days earlier I hadn't decided to actually go somewhere. If I had only made up my mind earlier! Then I would not have been dragged into this murder business. But what had happened had happened.

He was very certain, I had something to contribute to this matters. So, I agreed to help in this investigation to the best of my abilities.

One last thing was discovered by Mr. Roquefort, as he took the dagger, with which Higgins was killed, under closer inspection. He discovered and deciphered some Hieroglyph inscription on the blade. It translated to "There is no peace on the other side of the gate." What ever that meant. He also told us, that the Hieroglyphs could also be regarded as the representation of syllables. In this case the translation would have been: "Ni har lat hotep". He knew he had heard or seen this phrase before, but he was not able to place it.

Because there was nothing more to discuss for the moment, our meeting was adjourned. We agreed to keep Inspector Fox and Sir Jeffrey informed of our findings, as well as Lady Cathrine. After all, it was her father that had been abducted.

I hoped this whole business would be as exciting as it sounded but not as dangerous as is could get. In the end, we were hunting a murderer.

Game Master appreciation day

A day late, but none the less I'd like to thank all the great people out there, who spend hours after hours in developing worlds and adventures for us, the players. I am into role-playing since more than two decades now. And I know, I will be for many years to come, because there is this amazing species called game master.

I thank each and everyone of you. I will certainly never enjoy a gaming session with most you. But knowing, that everywhere I go, I can find a game master, who might be willing to have me as a player, is  awesome.

Role-playing is the one thing I did in school which I still do today. This would have been impossible without all the imaginative game masters I had - and still have - the honour to play with.

Thank you very much.

CoC - Gaslight: A Monday evening at the club

My name is Richard George Thomas Lumley I am 25 years of age and the second son of Aldred Frederick George Beresford Lumley, the 10th Earl of Scarbrough. Usually I don't do many exciting things. Most of the time I am attending the few family and official duties I have. But this all changed on Monday, 10 November 1890.

After another quiet day in London I went to the Albert's club at 8 pm as usual. On my arrival two other members I haven't seen in a while were also just arriving there. One was Dr. Jasper Burnside a medical practitioner. He was wearing mourning. Maybe whoever had died was the reason for his long absence. The other was Thomas Roquefort an archeologist. As usual he was dressed a little to casual for my taste. But I guess, if one is professionally concerned with places which are rarely spotless clean, making sure one's clothes are clean is more important then having every button in place. From his dark taint I suspect he had been in the more sunnier regions of the empire for the last year. I don't know them both that well, but from what I know they are both renowned experts in their respective fields.

The clubs butler Higgins relived me of my coat an hat and I went into the fireplace room. Sir Thomas Kincaid, a well-respected archeologist, and Dr. Mortimer Laydon, the royal family's personal physician, were sitting in armchairs near the fireplace. They were engaged in what looked like a very serious conversation. Minding my own business I sat down in an armchair at one of the windows. Higgins brought me my pipe, a glass of cherry, and the latest issue of the Times. Dr. Burside and Mr. Roquefort engaged themselves in a game of chess and a light conversation.

I could not really get myself to concentrate on the reading of the Times, because of the little incident last month. Except for the people involved nobody knows about it, but I think I will leave England for a while. But I haven't even begun to think about whence I should go. So I asked Higgins to bring me one book each about Egypt and India from the library. The book about India was very comprehensive concerning the country, its inhabitants, and the culture. But its style was a little dull. So I switched to the other book. While doing this, I saw Higgins deliver a message to Sir Thomas and Dr. Laydon. They seemed to have a visitor. They followed Higgins to the entrance room and form there upstairs; I guess to one of the secluded rooms.

After a while - I was really taken in by reading the fascinating book about the valley if kings in Egypt - I heard a curious noise from a room above. It sounded like metal on metal or something similar. But that was all. At least for the moment. Shortly afterwards I heard again the same kind of noise. But this time it was followed by a noise that sounded like something heavy hitting the floor. Slightly annoyed and also a little bit concerned about what was happening up there, I stood up to check what was going on upstairs. Dr. Burside and Mr. Roquefort also stood up, but they must have heard something else, because they where starting to run upstairs. Therefore they were ahead of me when I reached the first floor. What I beheld there was the most horrible sight I had seen in my life so far. The door of the room where the noise must have come from was ajar an I just saw Higgins with something sticking from his chest falling backwards like a tree. A black clad and hooded figure was leaning over him. But being disturbed by the arrival of Dr. Burside and Mr. Roquefort he cursed (I didn't understand his language, but from the sound of it had to be a curse) and vanished back into the room. Mr. Roquefort drew his revolver and ran into the room while Dr. Burnside attended to Higgins injuries. I myself went into the room next door in search for a weapon. Then I heard two shots from the other room.

I grabbed an old sabre from one of the walls and went out through the window to cut this hooded figure of. But I wasn't fast enough. He was already out of the other window, and down on the roof of the shed inside the courtyard below. I saw him jumping down to the ground and leaving through the side-gate. In hindsight I don't know why, but I jumped down on the shed's roof to follow him. Unfortunately, I missed the spot I was aiming for by a few inches. So, I stumbled on landing and went right over the edge. Fortunately I was able to grab hold of the edge. For a moment I was contemplating my situation and the stupidity of my actions. Going after a villain with an old weapon which I cannot wield in any efficient way. How wise is that?

Reaching the decision to let me fall the last two or three yards to the ground I was grabbed by my wrists from above. It was Mr. Roquefort who must have followed me. With his help I reached the ground safely and sprinted to the side-gate to look for the villain. But in the dense London fog I was unable to see, where he had gone. Mr. Roquefort, who had followed me, had no better luck. So we went back into the courtyard to look for a way back into the club. The only way would have been through the shed, were it not locked with a sturdy pad-lock. We went around the building to the main entrance. We were met there by a few constables of the police force. We were all requested to go into the fireplace room and stay there. Realizing the spoiled nature of my suit, I refused to comply. I let one of the constables deliver a message to my manservant Craig, requesting a clean suit. I waited in one of the secluded rooms for his arrival. An hour later he arrived and I a short while later I was dressed properly again.

I thanked Craig for his quick response at this late hour - it was way past 11 pm - and went at last into the fireplace room, where all the other people were already gathered. Dr. Burnside wasn't in the room, so I sat down with Mr. Roquefort to find out what else had happened upstairs.

The first sad news was that Higgins was dead. The club will never be the same again without him. He was stabbed to the heart with a curious looking dagger. It had a bronze haft with an ibis head as its pommel and a silver blade. On entering the room Mr. Roquefort had seen two hooded figures. One was leaving through the window, the other had shot at him, but had missed. He had returned the favour and had hit his target. The injury must have been minor, because this was the man I had seen moments later jumping down onto the shed. Also in the room they had found Dr. Laydon. He was lying on the floor, unconscious but not seriously injured. Sir Thomas was missing. On the table he and Dr. Burnside had found a small papyrus with a drawing of an ibis. Mr. Roquefort explained the significance of this symbol to me, but I have to admit it was a little bit to elaborate for me at this late hour and after this shocking events. The only thing I could memorize at the time was, that it was the depiction of the Egyptian god Thot, who is associated with wisdom an science.

After waiting for what felt like hours a sleazy looking man who introduced himself as inspector Fox of Scotland Yard began to take our evidence of the events of this evening. Afterwards he had the nerve to ask me to come to a gathering the next morning  at 9 am at New Scotland Yard on Whitehall Place. Dr. Burside and Mr. Roquefort were also invited. They seemed rather eager to attend. Which was perfectly understandable. Mr. Roquefort being an expert in Egyptian history and Dr. Burside making sure that his colleague - and for the moment patient - Dr. Laydon wouldn't over-strain himself. But I? I had no idea, what my contribution to this matter could be. But in the end being an upright citizen and gentleman, I had no choice but to comply and to find out the next morning.

So I went home in a cab not knowing what lay ahead of me.

7th Sea: What to do, if faced with the inquisition

So, there we were running into eight henchmen of the inquisition abducting our "recommendation letter". Not to lose any time, we engaged them immediately.

Taigh drew his claymore and rammed the pommel in one of the dismounted minions dealing only marginal damage. But this must have made his target very aggravated because he returned the favour by causing three nasty wounds to his attacker. This must have been some kind of wake-up call for Taigh. He stopped fooling around and slashed his opponent with one clean cut. (One down, seven to go)

Don Pepitos started the fight by getting into a stance like a torero, rapier and cape ready for action. Not that the abductors were much more intelligent than bulls, but a behaviour like this could be regarded as an insult. It was most likely meant that way. Don Pepitos avoided the first attack by waving his cape in front of him thus confusing his assailant. In return he stabbed him, thus putting him out of action. (Two down, six to go)

Sebastién was attacked by one of the horsemen. But his weak strike only caused a minor scratch on his right forearm. He repaid this by sparing the man and striking with his knife at the horse instead. This wasn't a nice but very effective thing to do. The physical damage was negligible, but it made the horse rear up, rendering his former rider prone on the ground. With a well-directed strike Sebastién rendered him unconscious saving him for later questioning. (Three down, five to go)

Pjotr focussed on the coach. He ran to it and jumped onto the coach box. He attacked the drivers with his bare hands and little effect. The man riding shotgun attacked him with no luck at all.

The awakened Taigh took one swing at the remaining horseman and removed him from his horse and from the fight. (halftime)

Don Pepitos ran to the coach and jumped into the passenger cabin. This was now crowded with two inquisition minions struggling to hold and bind the major domus and a castille "torero". The latter took care of the minions with two skilled slashes. (Six down, two to go)

Meanwhile the driver spurred the horses and the coach started to move. This met the disapproval of Pjotr. So he relived the driver from his duties by pushing him of the box. He then took a slight hit from the remaining henchman and the reins in his hands. Remembering an "old trick" he had picked up somewhere, he pulled with all his strength at the left rein to stop the coach. Doing it like this wasn't exactly by the book but it did the job. Then he took care of the last man, who was really annoying him with his fruitless attacks. (all clear)

Sebastièn had just mounted one of the available horses to follow the coach, when the skirmish ended. So he dismounted and dragged his prize into the building and bound him to a pillar. The four victors now made sure, the major domus was unharmed and let him go to write the letter.

While he was gone they woke up their prisoner and started questioning him. As expected, he wasn't very cooperative. So Sebastièn started staring at him in a very unnerving way and stepped "accidentally" on his left hand. This made him talk like a waterfall. He told them that the inquisition is also searching for Professor Olivares, but that he didn't know why. Sebastién was not quite convinced that this was true, so he asked him, if he knew how the inquisition questions their prisoners. He said he did. Sebastièn then took his violin case and put in front of him stating, that it starts with the showing of the instruments and that he had brought some of his own. Seeing the panic in his interviewees eyes he opened it in a manner that the content was hidden from the henchman's view. This scared him to death and he swore on everything holy to him, he didn't know anything more. This convinced Sebastién and he shut the case.

The major domus on his return was instructed to keep him in a cellar providing food and water for as long as the money found on the minion would suffice. For the 20 guilders he had in his pocket this could be very long time.

The four companions now decided what would be the best way to travel to San Christobal. After some deliberation taking into account the Montaigne blockade of the Castille ports, they decided to travel along the eastern coastline of occupied Castille.

What will happen on this journey and if they will find Professor Olivares is yet unknown to them ...

7th Sea: Strange Companions

The year is 1668. We are in San Augustin in south-east Castille and the Montaigne generals are still feeding soldiers into the meat-grinder at La Muralla al Ultimo.
The Montagnier Sebastién Moreaux was sent to the university of San Augustin because the spy network had heard rumors that a strange group of people are looking for professor Olivares. On arrival Sebastién found the university abandoned. Guessing the other people haven't allready been here he sat down in one of the courtyards and waited. To pass the time and because it helps him to think he was playing on his violine.

Around noon two Castillians appeared at the other end of the courtyard. By the looks of it they were a nobleman with his servant. After a short rest the servant began to unpack some tapas and wine for a short lunch. A few moments later another two strangers appeared. The instant Sebastién saw them he knew that they must be the men he was looking for. One was a very corpulent man with a large rucksack. Strapped to it were a lantern, a heavily furred blanket, and other gear obviously used for exploration. The other man was dressed in traditional clothes from the Highland Marshes. Hanging from his back was a large two-handed sword, obviously a claymore.

The explorer addressed the nobleman in Castille with a slight accent which revealed his nationality to be Ussuran. The mode of this conversation was a little strange. The Ussuran spoke with the nobleman in Castillian and relayed this conversation to his companion in Avalonian. After figuring out that this wasn't a very sensible thing to do they agreed to continue their conversation in Vendel, because this was the only language they all could understand. After exchanging the usual platitudes the Ussuran Explorer asked the noble, if he knew where everyone was. At this point the nobleman invited them to join him for his meal. Having noticed that Sebastièn had ceased playing he invited him to.

Over the course of the lunch they introduced themselves to each other and discussed their respective reasons to be at the university. Pjotr Ivanovich and Taigh McLennon were looking for professor Olivares to ask him for his help in interpreting some maps. The noble Don Pepitos and his servant Jorge were just resting in the shades after having concluded a personal matter in San Augustin. Sebastién pretended to have fled from conscription into the Montainge army.

Suddenly they heard a sound from the long gallery above. They called out to the person who was angry with himself to have been discovered. He was the Major Domus of the university tasked to take care of things until the return of the staff - whenever this should be. He explained that all but him were evacuated to San Christobal. This includes professor Olivares. He agreed to provide them with a letter of recommendation for the professor, so they will have no trouble gaining access to him.

Immediately after he was gone inside to write the letter the joined party heard the Major Domus' cry for help. They followed the noise to the outside of the building and saw a delegation of the Vatticine Church abducting the Major Domus. Two were trying to drag him into a coach, another two were sitting on the coach box. They were guarded by four riders, two of whom were dismounted to tie loose a horse that was, seeing his reaction, left there by Don Pepitos.

A fight started which will be depicted in the next post.