RolePlay onLine RPoL Logo

, welcome to Masks of Nyarlathotep (Chaosium Call of Cthulhu)

11:11, 19th March 2024 (GMT+0)

Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program.

Posted by The KeeperFor group 0
The Keeper
GM, 252 posts
Tony Stroppa
Tue 13 Dec 2011
at 23:34
  • msg #1

Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

Group,

This thread is for posting fiction relating to your character and Call of Cthulhu, directly related to the game or not.

Tony
Cynthia Jane Holloway
player, 91 posts
Dilettante
Globetrotting Free Spirit
Wed 14 Dec 2011
at 00:17
  • msg #2

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

character AND CoC? Or can it be related to just one? And is it married to a particular CoC setting?
The Keeper
GM, 253 posts
Tony Stroppa
Wed 14 Dec 2011
at 01:15
  • msg #3

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

Ha, that could have been worded better on my part!

1) No.
2) Yes.
3) No.

Anything tangentially CoC is fine, even not directly related to Masks is fine. Got something for Delta Green or just your character's non-Mythos backstory or whatever then please post it.

Tony
Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 71 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Thu 19 Jan 2012
at 10:10
  • msg #4

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

Emerging from the cab the Count paid the driver and stood on the pavement in front of 39 and 40 Brook Street Mayfair. The large double fronted town house with its white stucco walls had been two houses a few years back. The upper levels were shrouded in the London fog but the lights gave off a glow that reminded him of fireworks exploding in clouds. His sisters 16th birthday had been celebrated with fireworks. He stood there for several seconds as the cab drove off lost in thought.


He climbed the stairs to the covered entrance way and rang the door bell. The familiar and imposing sight of Mr Grey the butler opened the door.

”Count Bathoney, welcome.... please enter you are expected.”

The count passed off his hat gloves and scarf to the waiting maid and entered the hallway. He retained his cane a habit the staff were accustomed to.

”Mrs Evens and company are in the library... if you will follow me”

He followed Mr Grey along the hall glancing back at the door and the curious iron cage that surrounded it. An architectural quirk from the buildings early days as a small private bank, it also explained the vaults on the lower level.
As they passed along the hall and its black and white chequered tiles he was able to glance into the familiar rooms they passed. The parlour had a roaring fire in the grate and a maid positioned at the door.

The dining room was being prepared and the long oak table has been laid with the silver service on the white table cloth. The glassware was the next to be laid with several crystal goblets being places at each setting.  The centrepiece was the silver dancers; it was made up of twelve silver figures of nymphs on square bases that ran the length of the table whose hands were joined by ribbons of many different colours.

As the reached the end of the hall the Count could hear the faint mummer of conversation through the large oak doors. Mr Grey swung them wide as the Count entered and announced him;

”Count Sigismund Báthony of Mureș “

As he entered the room the Count as always took short intake of breath. The library had at one time been the original ballroom but now after extensive modifications it stood four stories high. Dominating the center of the room were three black cast iron double sided bookcases that rose nearly to the ceiling.  Each story had a walkway that surrounded both sides of the case. At each end where spiral staircases that gave access to each level. There where wooden ladders on an ingenious system of runners that enabled them to slide to where they where needed on each level.


The sides of the room had a series of dark oak fitted book cases. On the ground level the cases had been arranged to create square alcoves that supported the landing above. Each alcove held a different subject that was displayed on a small gold sign. The landing above also contained alcoves that again supported a landing, these alcoves where shorter and the corresponding landing above narrower. The final Landing supported standard book cases that where hard against the wall.  Each corner on the second landing held a large overstuffed chair and a small table and one on the landing nearest the floor to ceiling windows had a small sofa.

The count glanced towards the three alcoves on the right nearest the door they had a black curtain pulled across and he knew there was also a locked metal grate behind it. This was where Mrs Evens collection of occult books was kept, the stand out or unique pieces where locked in the vaults on the lowest level.
Several of the twenty or so gathered guests raised their glasses as he entered. A strikingly beautiful woman dressed in a floor length blue silk evening gown and cameo choker raised her closed fan to her lips and motioned with her arm towards a table.


The count gave a slight bow and moved further into the room. Mr Grey appeared at his arm holding a small silver tray with a tall cordial glass. The Count raised the glass off the tray and thanked Mr Grey, the drink was a plum brandy from his homeland and drinking it was a mix of emotions.
As the guests returned to their drinks and conversations the count moved towards the table in the center of the room that was always laid out with treasures the members of the club had acquired in the previous months between meetings. There was the standard rare and expensive examples of literature several of which the Count had accrued for various members. The pride of place in the center of the table had been given to a large heavily bound leather volume.

It was a first hand manuscript account of the trial of a coven of thirteen women from the Norfolk broads in 1646. This was the only record of this trial and had been compiled by the Sheriff of the County at the time. No other account of the woman existed even their names had been erased from the parish records. The official records of Matthew Hopkins the Witchfinder General made no mention of this event even though this piece mentions him being present and officiating.

The book goes into graphic detail into the rights the witches preformed, their capture, two weeks of torture, confessions and deaths. They were burned at the stake one after the other and their bones were ground and the powder and dispersed in a nearby river.

As he leaned in for a better look he was aware of someone behind him:

”Was I correct in my assessment.” He said.

The reply in an educated woman’s voice had an edge of excitement

”As always Báthony, someone could think you were a sorcerer with that six sense of yours.”

”If that was the case I would has bewitched the greatest prize by now... Mrs Evens.”


He heard her melodic girlish laugh as she stepped to his side and with her hand on his elbow turned him to face her. She was wearing her black hair up in an elaborate style with two diamond combs. The dress was low cut probably too low for mixed company, but in her own home surrounded by friends it was more than appropriate.

”I have set them out in my office, there is detailed biographical information on each woman, a family tree and a portrait etching.  One of them was only eleven Báthony...”
She trailed off.

”There is also a series of etchings detailing the torture they used some sort of manual I think for future cases. Also a list of the items they recovered from the coven house.”

Looking into her eyes the Count though she looked like she was scanning his face for something. She turned and pointing to the book adding:

”James the agent brought it over this afternoon he said there was very little competition, but the sale went well and everything else went to the shop. The agent who you think works for the Duke of York, was there but still no name.  All the other agents and scouts were present, no new faces. There were even some patrons there but they were still going through agents. He said the Caxton set a record.”

He again felt her searching his face again.

”The Caxton was a grangerising of two later editions and the endpapers were new. How has your week been ?”

”Very good I had those two events at the Savile Cub, I am going to put your name forward. They are very eager to meet you seems your series of lectures at the Athenaeum caused somewhat of a stir. What about you, what was so pressing that you missed the auction ?”

” I have heard good things about the Savilians and it is close we can dine there next week. Does that sound like fun? Oh.. I had an old friend in town, needed my help.”

”I will mark it in my diary, I hope to see you again before then ? We should get started, people will gossip if we continue talking”
He knew they already did, the widowed wealthy society beauty and the impoverished foreign deposed Count it was a penny novel if ever there was one.

”Of course Mrs Evens, how else am I to fill in my day if it is not tracking down dusty tomes with you.”

She gave him a wink before unfurling her fan and flapping it rapidly.

”Ladies and gentlemen if you will please take your seats the meeting of the Private Libraries Society can come to order.”

He took the secretary seat to the right of the madam president who sat in the middle of the table.

The meeting had been short and the dinner and lecture after entertaining. He was now sitting in a large green library chair in Mrs Evens private office the contents of the false covers on the witch manuscript spread out before him. Mrs Evens was lying on a matching green sofa on the opposite side of the table, having removed he shoes and tucked her legs up. She was reading the family tree of the youngest witch who had been burned; he glanced at the portrait etching on the table it showed the girls long hair that had been described as blonde.

”Well it matches Sigismund I believe the grimoire is authentic and correct.”

He nodded:

”Yes it is true we have the last key to the puzzle. This list of coven possessions has it noted with a description; I wonder where the other items ended up?”

The grimoire was a large tall black book as thick as a fist and written in code. It was decorated with symbols and sigils of witchcraft and was the strongest link he had ever uncovered to a practicing coven in Western Europe. It had taken him a year to crack the code with help from Professor Andrew Bates of London University. It was based on the mathematics of the physics present in nature well in advance to anything in the fifteenth century when the book was written.

It was by chance he called on the small church and inquired as to their library. The vicar was eager to dispose of some items of a delicate nature and the book was one of these volumes. Mrs Evens had negotiated a low price and the Count had paid the man before he could change his mind. It now sat in his private library in the attic of his shop over fifteen hundred other works resided there all connected to witchcraft in Western and Eastern Europe.
He had the Witchfinder Generals private copy of the Malleus Maleficarum or the Witches Hammer bound in human skin,


a copy of Directorium Inquisitorum from the spanish inquisition.


Every printed work in English on the subject and many manuscripts which were now the focus of his collecting. He looked at the mantle clock and noted how low the fire had got.

”Well Mrs Evens it is late an I have an early start. I will say good bye, thank you so much for your company.”

She rose into a sitting position

”You needn’t go we have only scratched the surface of the manuscript.”

She realised he tone was a little to earnest or eager and added;

”Of course you must go.. This will wait and with fresh eyes who knows what we may discover.”

She came around the side of table and after taking his arm stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him on the cheek.”


He looked down at her and resisted the urge to raise his hand to her face.


”Indeed, yes with fresh eyes... Well you know how to contact me and I will telephone tomorrow to discuss our next move. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

He opened the door and as usual Mr Grey was waiting as he entered the library, he could hear the silk of her dress ruffling behind him as she followed him.


At the exit from the library he turned and taking her hand he kissed it. Without saying anything more he followed Mr Grey to the main door and took his hat, gloves and scarf. A cab was waiting and he departed back to his shop.


-
This message was last edited by the player at 02:57, Sat 25 Mar 2017.
The Keeper
GM, 411 posts
Tony Stroppa
Mon 30 Apr 2012
at 22:36
  • msg #5

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

OPERATION CASTLE, SHOT BRAVO
March 01, 1954
38 Miles ESE of Bikini Atoll, Marshall Islands

0355 Hours LIMA (Local)
H-Hour Minus Five Minutes


At H-Hour Minus 5 minutes local time, the escort carrier CVE-115 USS Bairoko was on station 38 miles SE of Bikini Atoll, part of Pacific Joint Task Force Seven. Their mission was to observe the effects of OPERATION CASTLE, a series of six atmospheric thermonuclear detonations on Bikini Atoll. The Bairoko was there to launch aircraft for post-shot radiological survey, serve as a decontamination center, and support radiation safety operations. The Bairoko had embarked 12x HRS-19 Chickasaws of US Marine Helicopter Transport Squadron HMR-362 and 6x unarmed reconnaissance Corsairs from US Marine Composite Squadron VC-3.




CVE-115 USS Bairoko

For the past weeks the Marine helicopter transport squadron had been working hard to transfer men and supplies to the different islands between the project staging base on Bikini Atoll, and the bases on Kwajalein and Eniwetok Atolls. Over the last 48 hours all non-essential personnel were evacuated from the ring of coral islands and islets that made up Bikini Atoll, shuttled to the ships of TF-7. The Corsairs were to conduct post-shot recon for radiation and perform post-test damage assessment as soon as possible.

In the minutes prior to the test, Ens. Hargreaves, Hospital Corpsman 3rd Class Zengetti and Father Mullaney joined most of the rest of the crew waiting on the deck of the escort carrier in the cool pre-dawn darkness. Everyone not assigned a duty station wanted to witness the detonation although there wasn't a lot they would see. The CO (Captain Richard D. Hogle) was in the Observation Gallery (aka "Buzzard's Row") up on the top level of the Island to observe the detonation. Flight Operations Officer (FOO) Lt. Felix A. Jermyn, the "Air Boss," was inside Flight Ops keeping track of the recon flights that were in the air; the XO, Commander Martin C. Reeves was below in the CIC; and the Deck Officer (Lt. Wilbur Delapore) was impatiently waiting for the test to finish so the Bairoko could resume flight operations.

Up above them, Lt. Davis (USMC) and Dr. Pettigrew were observing the test from a Grumman UF-1 Albatross amphibious flying boat that was also tasked for SAR test support. The Albatross was piloted by Lt. Ted Singer(USN) with  Lt. Jg. Mike Forbes (USN) as right seat. They were flying out of the base on Kwajalien and had picked up Dr. Pettigrew for observational purposes. Lt. Davis was allowed to tag along, as a reward for his hard work transporting men and equipment throughout the area.

"NOW HEAR THIS... ALL HANDS, WE ARE GO FOR SHOT BRAVO. COUNTDOWN IS AT H-HOUR MINUS FIVE MINUTES, SAY AGAIN, COUNTDOWN IS AT H-HOUR MINUS FIVE MINUTES."

Up on deck, Master Chief Bodine's job of preparing the ship was done. With an idle moment to spare, he talked about his time serving aboard the Bairoko.

"The USS Bairoko wasn’t commissioned until the end of World War II, so we were too late to see action against the Japs. In 1946, we were at the Bikini Atoll for Operation Crossroads, when the Air Force -- it was still the Army Air Corps back then -- tried to show it could destroy a fleet with an atom bomb. They tried to put her out to pasture after that, but they had to bring her back for the Korean War. On a shakedown cruise in '51, after they brought her out of mothballs, there was  an explosion  on  the hangar deck. It caught fire, which spread to the deck below. Five men died and over a dozen were injured before it could be put out, and the ship was laid up for months. I knew them all, too -- good men, they were. But now here we are again, testing another "nuke", and a big one! Good old Bairoko!"

In reply, the Father addressed the Master Chief in a low concerned voice. "We are not to toy with God-like powers, that should be reserved for Gabriel, as he did upon Gomorrah. I fear that it is more Lucifer's dominion than man, and we should not tempt fate or the future of our civilization. I strongly implore you to not proceed with this event." He swigs on his flask -- for medicinal purposes, of course. Master Chief Bodine was taken a little aback. "Padre, it's H-Minus Five! We've had to keep putting the test off for weeks because of the crazy wind and weather. Nothing I can do to stop it now, if I even wanted to. Tell you what, there are about a half-dozen crucial experiments that, if they fail, will automatically trip a shutdown. If God wants to stop the test, He can do it that way, no one'll be the wiser. And, no booze on deck sir, you know that. Better yet, let me wet my whistle." He took the offered flask and had a nip himself.

Several feet away in the milling crew, Meteorology Officer Ensign "Harvard" Hargreaves enjoyed a short conversation and cigarette with Aerographer's Mate 3rd Class Darryl Johnson. Johnson was a black naval Rating from Chicago and due to muster out soon, intending to go to school on the GI Bill and study physics. Relations with fellow crew members were sometimes stilted for Johnson, as many white crew still declined to interact socially with the "coloured" crew, despite the Navy's recent (official) desegregation. "Harvard" was an actual Harvard graduate from a well-connected Boston family and had fewer problems with his buddy's race than others.

Hospital Corpsman 3rd Class "Johnny Zee" Zengetti stood nearby chatting with a fellow Corpsman, Seaman Earl Sawyer. Sawyer had a reputation as an odd duck. After he was done talking to Sawyer, Zengetti decided he didn't feel like observing some damned light in the sky and went below to fix himself a sandwich in the mess.

0400 Hours LIMA
H-Hour


At 0400, H-Hour, the shot proceeded as scheduled, with most of the crew observing the test from the deck of the Bairoko. They didn't see more than a lightening in the sky, as the groundburst was far below the horizon to them. Down in the mess, Johnny Zee was accosted by his acquaintance, Seaman Sawyer, who stumbled in, as if looking for him. Sawyer grabbed Zengetti's arm and said to him heatedly, "Hey, this time, don't shoot me in the head and I won't let them tear you apart!" Sawyer looked confused, then wandered off. When Zengettii caught up to him and asked why he said that, Sawyer couldn't answer. The slightly acrid smell that always followed him around was noticeably stronger, and some blotches from his chronic skin condition showed above his collar and peeked from below his sleeves.

Those in the Albatross above them got a much better view of the deadly orange blossom as it annihilated the pre-dawn darkness. Banking the plane to avoid the shock waves, the pilot, co-pilot and Dr. Pettigrew pulled up their goggles and looked away. They only saw the brightening of the sky around them, while Lt. Davis disregarded instructions and kept looking through his anti-flash goggles. He was rewarded with an intense glow that suffused a quarter of the entire horizon, quickly fading to show the expected yet somehow majestic mushroom cloud. The complex interplay of concentric clouds and the supersonic mach wave as it radiated outwards through the air and water was quite a sight. It was awesome... and terrifying.




CASTLE BRAVO

Over a quarter of the predawn sky lit up bright as day for several seconds, then faded. The rumble reached the ship in a few minutes along with a warm breeze. It was preceded by a shockwave racing through the water, relatively minor at this range. Although they couldn't see the mushroom cloud itself from where they were on deck, the crew was unsettled, even unnerved a little at the display of terrible power.

Shortly thereafter dawn broke and the escort carrier settled down to routine operations, preparing to launch the recon Corsairs in order to perform post-shot observation and recording tasks. Up above, the Albatross continued its assigned course and altitude traversing clockwise around the Bikini Atoll test site. Dr. Pettigrew took photographs as instruments measured radiation and air pressure, wind speed and direction, recording everything. The sky was laced with contrails as various aircraft criss-crossed back and forth on their missions[FONT=Courier New][/FONT]. On the ocean the black specks of the naval task force trailed curving wakes as they turned into the wind in preparation to launching aircraft.

That same unpredictable westerly wind was a lot stronger at altitude. Ominous-looking black clouds appeared within about a half hour, swiftly borne towards the ships and aircraft. This was not in the pre-shot plan!

A dirty grey snow began to fall on the Bairoko's deck. It was warm and the workers on deck who were prepping the Corsairs started to complain that the flakes "burned" their skin. The Deck officer, Lt. Delapore didn't seem to realise the gravity of the situation and was unsure how to proceed. As a Meteorology Officer, Ensign Hargreaves, however, realised this was fallout, a mixture of seawater and pulverised coral thrown up by the blast and carried to them on the unusually strong easterly winds. Unable to get an unsure Delapore to disrupt vital operations, Ensign Hargreaves and Father Mullaney entered the ship's CIC, where the CO and XO were in consultation regarding the unexpected variation in wind patterns. Captain Hogle was a competent officer but was there mostly to "punch his ticket" on the way up the echelon of naval command. Commander Reeves was far more experienced about the ins and outs of a smoothly running ship, with a reputation as a wheeler-dealer and hustler, willing to walk a little on the shady side as long as it didn't cross over into outright criminality.

Down below in the mess deck, Hospital Corpsman Zengetti suffered a kind of hallucination.

He was standing at the baser of a massive black basalt tower rising above him over a thick steaming jungle of ferns and palms. A kind of ramp woven from vegetation wound its way around the sides leading to the top, where there were several openings. Brightly coloured lizards flitted about, some with feathers! Zengetti recognised that cyacids and ginkgos were by far the dominant plant life, much like the Mesozoic era which ended with the unexplained extinction of the dinosaurs. Several wide trails led from the tower into the surrounding jungle, with some kind of residue that looked like the deposits left behind by slugs or snails. They would have to be massive ones, the size of elephants! He realised, with no small terror, there was no jungle presently on Earth that could possibly look like that. Zengetti tried to move and found his body was the wrong shape. The vision then ended and he found himself still sitting at the mess table.

Shakily, he lit a cigarette and tried to calm down. As he sat, different crew came in, complaining of the dirty snowfall that was warm and burned on the skin. With a shock he realised they had been dusted with fallout and he immediately sent them to the decontamination stations in the hangar deck and then sickbay. Just then, General Quarters alarm sounded throughout the ship.

"...NOW HEAR THIS... ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL: STAND-TO DUTY STATIONS. SECURE SHIP FOR SEVERE AIRBORNE RADIOLOGICAL HAZARD. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ALL PERSONNEL EXPOSED TO RADIOACTIVE CONTAMINATION MUST IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO DECON STATION ON HANGAR DECK FOR DECONTAMINATION. ALL PERSONNEL EXPERIENCING ANY SYMPTOMS OF RADIATION SICKNESS ARE TO REPORT TO SICK BAY. SAY AGAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL..."

Father Mullaney, had managed to convince the Bairoko's XO of the acute danger and he sounded General Quarters to secure the ship and begin decontamination operations. Maybe a senior ship's office wouldn't normally be persuaded by the ship's Chaplain to take such actions, but Father Mullaney was backed up by the Meteorology Officer. Reeves knew he had a family that was very well-connected in Washington and the Pentagon. From up on the Observation Deck in the carrier's tower they could see the usually well-practiced deck crew responded to General Quarters in a jerky, uncoordinated fashion. Some were putting on the Oxygen Breathing Apparatus (OBA) usually used for firefighting but now used to protect against fallout, pulling on gloves and boots. Others, however, were just standing there and a couple fell down writhing on the deck. Lt. Delapore was bewildered by the reaction to the crisis as training and discipline seemed to disappear.




Base of CVE-115 USS Bairoko's island

Looking down from the Observation deck they saw Seaman Sawyer, caught out on deck, run for the shelter of a belowdecks hatch. He paused and squinted up at the top of the island superstructure at the radio and Radar antennas that towered into the sky. It was like he saw someone, or something, up there at the top of the mast. He merely commented, "is someone up there? Guess not."

A panicked deckhand started running aimlessly in terror, heading blindly for what was clearly the edge of the flight deck. Ensign Hargreaves and Father Mullaney watched with horror as he didn't even slow down despite their shouted warnings and ran off into space. Falling, legs still windmilling, he smacked into the ocean far below. Father Mullaney called "MAN OVERBOARD!" while a quick-thinking Harvard descended to the deck and grabbed Johnson and Boatswain's Mate 2nd Class Chet Dickerson. They began lowering a lifeboat to the dark, angry ocean. The fallen sailor was badly injured and barely conscious, still somehow managing to keep afloat. A thrown life ring hit close but he was too weak to grab it. Moving closer Harvard and Johnson pulled him into the lifeboat using a boat-hook and began administering CPR.

Aboard ship, Hospital Corpsman 3rd Class Zengetti was joined by Father Mullaney in the Bairoko's sickbay, tending to the injured. Not just several presenting symptoms of radiation poisoning but a few that were physically whole but suffering a strange kind of fugue that left them either catatonic and unresponsive. One of the "mental" cases, a red-haired man, was mumbling in some odd clicking tongue that Zengetti thought sounded African, although Seaman Jimmy O'Reilly, was obviously of Irish descent. Another tried crawling across the deck like a lizard and needed to be restrained. Others were brought in with bruises, cuts, and broken bones.

Slowly but surely the crew began systematic decontamination efforts were begun on the exposed decks. The Bairoko came about on a due South heading, steaming out from under the path of the eastward-travelling fallout spreading from Bikini...

Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 163 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Sun 20 May 2012
at 00:25
  • msg #6

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

The Count had spent a good two hours getting dressed and was now resplendent in his “Full Fig” ready for his appointment. The note from the club had been of the usual abruptness giving a time, place and date and no more.  He had booked the taxi the night before and was putting on the finishing touches in the hall when the driver rang the bell. He stop at the hotel and then the pub as directed.


The trip to the Savoy was likely to be a short one dependent on traffic. It did give the Count time to reflect on the secrecy of the meeting, considering it was only drinks. He had known this friend for about two years having been introduced at a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society, it had been a fleeting acquaintance and the Count had thought no more about it until a black envelope had appeared in his pigeon hole. The friendship was secret, he had never spoken of it to Sarah Evens or Mr Perkins or any of his myriad  other acquaintances. He also never spoke of work, considering this friend as just that, not a contact or an “in” and not a client. It was surprising as they both collected but when the conversation did turn to such areas it was from the outside looking in and not as a facilitator of such things. This was very refreshing and enabled the Count to garner a different outlook on the trade, especially the auction houses.  It was also strange as with just a question the Count could obtain the name of the Royal buyer, something that has eluded Miss Evans and him-self for close to a year.  But to ask his friend,  that would be vulgar.

He arrived at the entrance to the hotel and the doorman open the taxi door as he stepped out under the large art deco sign. He passed through the revolving door and up to the reception counter. The Count handed over the black invitation and with a nod was let through several double doors to the entrance to the ballroom. Two attendants stood there and took the Count's hat and gloves before opening the doors for him to enter.


As he stepped through he passed another attendant standing nearly at attention. The room was vast and overlooked the garden and the river Thames at the rear of the hotel. Two tub easy chairs similar to those you would find in an up market hotel bar at been arranged in the centre with a small side table next to each. The situation of the furniture enabled the two occupants to converse and not be overheard by the attendant. As he stepped into the room his host rose from one of the chairs and came across to greet him.

”Sigismund capital to see you, welcome.”

He shook the Counts hand before he had a chance to greet his host in the appropriate way.

”Your Highness.”

 The Count also gave a slight bow.

”Always the bloody formal foreigner. One of these days I will have you at Court and you can see what a damn nuisance it is. Call me George and that will be an end to it for tonight and from now on.”

He said in mock annoyance and disappointment. He continued;

”You are looking well, the colder weather always seems to suit you more, must be your home land.”

He then signalled the attendant who seemed to appear next to them almost instantly with a cocktail shaker and two Martini glasses. He poured the drinks as Prince George, The Duke of Kent continued;

”So what has been keeping you so busy ? I have heard such interesting things.”

They then spent the next two hours discussing the London social scene, gossiping somewhat before moving onto more demanding topics such as the state of affairs in Russia and the Baltic States. This was what the Count assumed had been the reason for the occasion and so they spent some time trying to put it into context for the British Empire. The Duke was eager to try and understand the subtle differences in the Eastern and Western influences and the repercussions of their crossing. This had been there main focus for discussion over several evenings and always took time. The Count thought that the Duke was beginning to understand and would be able to advise his Brother and Mother if this was the outcome of their meetings. They again broached the subject of the fall of the House of Romanov in Russia and its parallel to the Count's own family history. The Duke outlined the location of what was left of the house - scattered all over Europe - including the rescue of what was left from a beach on the Baltic  Sea.

”Interesting story, they left forty crates containing the royal silver service as they had no room, just sitting on the beach.”


”That’s partially why I arranged to night Sigismund. Now I know you have never discussed your profession, but when a request was made to me I instantly thought of you. As you know the Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna and what is left of her household are currently guests of my father and mother in the lodge at Windsor. What you won’t know is that she is somewhat fallen on hard times due to the nature of her family leaving their homeland.”

The Duke stopped and looked at the Count before continuing.

”Now this is somewhat a vulgar situation and I would considerate it a personal favour if you would agree to meet her to facilitate the sale of certain pieces. I am not sure what they may be or whether you would be an intermediary between her and the auction houses or whether you will buy them outright. That is of course if my mother has left any of the jewels, but that is not your area.”

”She knows of you and your reputation and felt better dealing with someone of your statue and origin. Either way she has heard good things from others who you have purchased from so I would think you are not going into this blind. One of the courtiers will make the arrangements.”

The Count replied;

”Of course it would be wonderful to meet her. I am sure I can be of some help.”

His mind was racing with the possibility not least that she was the head of a large pyramid of Russian nobles who have fled the purges and were now scattered across Western Europe. He had wondered when the realities of life away from estates and income would bite. There had been the odd object some up for sale, but nothing like what was hidden and hoarded.

”Anyway, to other things, I hear you have garnered an invitation to the Rothschild’s house party. I was going to go but have been “summoned” to Scotland for shooting. I may pop in for the last night. Always jolly fun. You served with her father wasn’t it ?”

”Yes he was my company commander for most of the war and he was a fine officer. It was those above him that embarrassed the Romanian nation.”
”Well you were decorated so it can’t reflect in anyway on you. Look at me - at least you saw action - I was left shaking the hands and giving the bloody medals out. Well, we all have our cross to bear.”

” Next month we are having a little get together, it is all so formal and proper in the early part, but after my mother and father retire it usually gets quite good. Chips had arranged a band from the United States and I know you dislike these things but we have to get you out there more. It cannot be all work.”

”In fact I would expect more post then you are used to and no turning the RSVP’s down. Miss Evens will be getting the exact same invitations as you so you will have to come or someone else will whip her away.”

The Duke gave him a wink and raised his glass as the Count felt himself go red. He suspected the real reason was that Miss Evens could convince the Count to attend such events more readily than anyone else.

At this point an attendant arrived with a silver tray and a small note. The Duke took it and after reading its contents frowned.

”It would seem the hunt has begun Sigismund and I have already been found out. Well another hour and then I must be off.”

They concluded the evening with more drinks and conversation. After a final cigar the Count and the Duke left through separate exits.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:50, Wed 28 Jan 2015.
Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 263 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Mon 5 Nov 2012
at 08:56
  • msg #7

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

Having brought the trunk down from the attic the count stood in the bedroom looking at it. He had not opened it in over a year; there did not seem any need. It was only a token gesture on his part but in the circumstances it may hold more weight than he knew. He had the key in his hand and opened the lid.

Removing the sword case and belt he moved quickly to empty it contents onto the bed. He laid the uniform out in a very short amount of time. Next he retrieved the cases that held his medals, orders and the sash they would sit next to and on. Lastly he removed the hat box and his boots. He sat on the end of the bed with the sword box on his lap. His finger traced his engraved name on the brass disk inserted in the lid “Captain Sigmond Bathony from a proud family”. Lifting the lid he found everything was in order the blue gilt blade was still parade bright, the heavy chased German silver guard with its ibex horn grip still like new.

As he began dressing as he was remembering back to yesterday and the frantic work Perkins and he had undertaken securing the lines of credit he would need if the purchase of the items went ahead. His bank had been the most helpful and the vast majority of the funds had come from them. His account manager at Coutts had been a client and so had the knowledge needed to see the opportunity in front of them. He had not wanted to come on board as a partner but had given the Count very good terms for the loan.

Perkins had also given a sizeable investment and as per their standing partnership Sarah Evans had provided funds in a first refusal arrangement at markets rates. The Count felt that Mrs Evans would likely to take an interest in the silver and the pieces by more prominent makers. As he had no idea what was to be available it may all come to nothing.

Perkins was to accompany him to Windsor on the train and waited while he conducted the transaction. Delivery would take place at a later date but he still required some company and protection as he would be unable to go openly armed. He had his sword but Perkins would have his Browning automatic pistol so they would be suitably defended.
They had closed up the shop for the day and as he descended the stairs Perkins let out a whistle. The Count could not help letting out a smile:

”Be careful First Sergeant Perkins or you can put on your dress uniform and show off that Military medal for the Duchess. Just make sure I don’t arse end on the pavement as I get into the taxi.”

He gave a comical look of dread as he held open the door Perkins added;

”But you look so pretty, you foreign types sure know how to dress for these Court events. So you have three formal uniforms?

”Not anymore but yes, this is the Court uniform and there is a mess uniform and a parade uniform. This is the only one I have left but I could get Garrecks to make the others up they have the patterns on file for most standing armies.”

Once through the station and into the first class carriage on the train the journey to Winsor had been very quick. They had opted for an express service with no stops so arrived in the station in good time. As he exited the taxi at the front gates to Windsor castle Perkins said he would wait for the Count outside the pub across the square. He had a regimental history he was currently reading and a small stack of their competitors’ catalogues under his arm. He could guarantee the first would be the latest Maggs catalogue it had been an obsession of Perkins as to how they source their stock and the Count knew he was not any closer to an answer.
The gates loomed above him as he crossed the square. He checked his breast pocket for the invitation but he knew he was expected so would not need to show it. As he entered the arch he saw a small window off to the left with a livery attired gentleman.  He looked the Count over then said;

”Count Bathony you are expected. Firstly there are no firearms to be taken into the grounds; I remind you that you are under military law once you enter. Someone will arrive shortly to escort you to the lodge; they will wait and escort you back to the gates. Please sign in the book and have a pleasant afternoon.”

Ten minutes later a tall gentleman dressed in a frock coat and wig arrived and escorted the count through the courtyard and into a carriage that was waiting. The ride took about twenty minutes before they arrived at a detached house with its own garden in the larger castle gardens. The attendant pointed to the door and took a seat on a bench at the garden gate.


The Count felt he was in an absurd Lewis Carrol adventure. Standing by the gate dressed in his Court uniform about to have an audience with the highest surviving member of the Russian Imperial family, the Count nearly shock his head. The attendant was still watching him so he strode up to the door and knocked.

Almost immediately it opened and a formally dressed dark haired woman address him;

”Count Bathony, I am Lady Margrete Rickneave one of the Duchess ladies in waiting, please enter.”

She leads him to a front parlor while asking about his journey. As the Count expected she closed the door and took a seat;

”As I believe you know this is a delicate matter for the imperial family, a first in their history in fact. As such we would expect it to remain a secret as to where the objects have originated from. Furthermore the Duchess does not wish to have to deal with others after today therefore you must purchase them outright or not at all.”

She watches the Count for any reaction before continuing after he gives her an affirmative nod;

”We have created a list of the items, it is complete but this may not be the last. The Duchess would like to meet you after you have viewed the collection. I am sure I don’t have to tell you she does not wish to discuss the sale. If you will follow me you may view the items in the dining room.”

As the Count moved through the house he noticed it was sparsely furnished in English antiques. The lady in waiting ushered him through and before closing the door behind him said.

”Please take your time, My lady would want you to have an understanding of the collection. I can answer any questions once you are done. Thank you Count.”

The Count stood for several minutes gazing at the table and its collected treasures. He first read the list that was several pages long. It not only listed the items but gave information on makers and retailers as well as limited provenance information. As he read he made notes as if it was an auction catalogue, as he had thought the items were high grade luxury items made by some of the greatest production houses in the western and eastern world. But there was nothing that was so famous as to be directly linked to the imperial family. Several items had crests or monograms but they were from minor noble houses. The Count surmised that most of the items where inherited either through marriage or a death outside of the family.

He first moved to the three breakfront book cases, best to start with what I know he thought. An initial spine scan had turned up the usual religious texts, though some very early illuminated examples. A large grouping of history texts for both eastern and western countries including some sets. There was several scientific works mostly natural history and geology but also a couple on physics and light. As he delved a little deeper he found a book on Russian mythology surrounding demons as well as three works that formed a set on witchcraft in Russia.

There were several works on monastic life in Russia including an odd signed manuscript that looked to have been the work of Rasputin. The Duchess Brother in law had been one of the killers of the mad monk so this may be authentic; it needed a lot more research. Other than that the rest were not out of the ordinary but would sell with ease. He may even give some of the religious texts some shelf time something he usually did not do. He also had several collectors in mind that would pay a premium for some of the works. The book plates had been expertly removed but the tell-tale signs were there for the educated. Some of the works had been commission by the imperial family so they existed in this form nowhere else. The occult books would enter his personal library and he was sure Sarah Evens would be excited at some of the religious works.

As he finished his notes he was standing in front of a side table with four canteens of cutlery, one in a free-standing case and two others in smaller boxes. The fourth was just an assortment of utensils. It was only once he examined them closer the Count realised they were just examples of a much larger set. According to the list next to them it was a setting for one hundred. He picked up a fork, it handle was made of rock crystal and the silver was gilt which gave it the appearance of gold. As he twisted it in his hand he was trying to work out the price he would offer. He based it all on the spot price of the silver content nothing more and even using this system it would be over one thousand pounds. The other three sets were for twenty and two for twelve and had two crests he did not know so he took a rubbing with his note book and pencil.

The last side table before he started on the main dining table was covered with various card, cigarette and compact cases. There were several snuff boxes and other small boxes. Each was incredibly well made most were from the most famous Moscow and Saint Petersburg makers. Covered in various enamels, carved gold and silver and set with various precious gem stones.  He knew a couple would make it into his personal collection the others would sell in a heartbeat. He also saw a selection of smaller porcelain and precious metal Easter eggs these were the more common examples of their larger and more famous cousins, still very much sort after by the expatriate community. Finally there were several expertly carved animals in various semi-precious stones, another trinket gift the imperial family gave each other and several personal seals made out of various precious metals and stones. He made a note to ask if the items on this table came with their original boxes.

As he looked over the large dining table he could pick out how it was laid out. There were several groups of porcelain tableware and serving items according to their lists they were a desert service for twelve, a dinner service for twenty and another dinner service for one hundred. These were all from the Imperial porcelain factory and as they did not produced for anyone else they could only come from one family. There were also a couple of figurines from the same factory mostly of the peasant scenes the Russians liked.

The silver was arranged at the end of the table, it consisted of several sets of candle sticks and candelabra, two complete sets of serving tureens and covers, two coffee sets and a tea set, several trays of various sizes. At the very end of the table were five bronze sculptures of various sizes all were of military scenes or soldiers.

Lastly there were several paintings hanging on the walls and a small group leaning against the chair his hat was on. Once he got closer he could see two of the paintings on the wall where Rembrandt's, the rest were of a lesser but still high quality, Dutch and French but he would have to check.

He took a seat next to the door and went over his notes. It was over an hour since he started and close to two when he finally had a figure he could give the Duchess or most likely her Lady in waiting. It was much higher than he had anticipated but still slightly lower than the lines of credit he had secured. The items were of a higher quality than he had expected and several were the personal items of several imperial family members. He would expect to make close to an eight hundred present profit on the figure he was going to give them. Property higher if he found the right buyer in the current market.

This was the purchase of his career and would secure his future even enabling him to reclaim what was lost not in his old homeland but in his new one. He knocked on the door and Margrete opened it instantly, he pasted over the envelope with his offer and followed her to his audience with the Grand Duchess.

He followed her up the stairs of the small cottage to a large parlor. Margrete made the introductions and the Count gave a formal bow as he clicked his heels. The Duchess did not rise but offered her hand and motioned for the Count to sit on a sofa across from her.  He sat down he saw a series a silver framed photographs on a side table of what he assumed were the Tsar and his family.

The Duchess was impeccably  dressed in formal court attire and had her hair up. He would have certainly been under dressed had he not dusted off his uniform. She was wearing a small amount of jewellery but nowhere near what she would have been wearing had this been in her homeland. It was only once he was seated that he noticed a young woman sitting next to the Duchess she did not look up as the Count looked at her. She was reading a large volume and was dressed a simple blue silk dress she seemed not to notice him.


”Count Bathony so good of you to visit us, it is not often we have visitors from the East. This is my niece Countess Alegra Dunneesston.”

The Countess did not acknowledge her Aunt so the Count continued after a somewhat uncomfortable pause.

”Thank you Duchess you have a wonderful home and such spectacular grounds. I always enjoy my time in Windsor such a lovely town. Have you resided here long?”

”No not long my cousin the king has kindly offered the house for our use while we are resident here. We hope it should not be too long, but this is a pleasant place to rest after the turmoil of the past years.”

”The Duke of Kent has been so kind and has said our stories are not so dissimilar from each other. I am sure you have heard the awful stories that have filtered out of our beloved Russia. Such a tragedy to befall our house I don’t think we can recover.”

”As I am sure you know my own story has a more complete finality as I am the last of our house and line. I have always taken comfit in the fact that I survived so even though the location has changed the history and memory will go on. It does not need to end here just to begin anew.”

The Duchess gave him a look of understanding as she was going to speak again her niece spoke:

”It could begin again if the vultures did not circle picking off the carcase of our house.”


She fixed a steely gaze on the Count before he could reply the Duchess who was flustered admonished her;

”Inka not in front of our guest.”

”I am sorry Count; AIegra is upset at losing her library and feels there are other avenues we could have gone down.”

”I understand I wondered if there had been a passionate hand in the collection and care of the books. It is my area of interest and I can see how it would bite to loose such things. But they are only things; my father’s library had been amassed over six hundred years by eight generations of my family and was burnt to the ground in an hour. Those volumes will never be recovered at least in the future you could search out your old friends.”


The Count could feel her eyes still on him as he went on.

”As you know I have a small book shop specializing in the more obscure pieces and works of art. It fills in my day and enables me to keep in contact with the Eastern community in England.”

”Do you hear from home often ?”

”No the lowering of my family was complete none of the close family survived and the rest were too busy insulating their own positions to offer assistance at the time. There are two retainers who are still resident in the area but the game is over for us.”

”I think your own story is somewhat more open with close family spread over a wide area. It must be a comfort to know there are others who managed to escape.”

The Countess slammed the book shut and placed it on the table before lifting her skirt so she could leave slightly faster. As the door closed the Duchess who looked visibly saddened added;

”I am sorry Count as you can see this is not an easy chapter of our history it has brought back memories for Alegra of what she has lost. Her entire family was also killed in the revolution in a vile unholy manner.”

She looked as if she was composing herself, before saying;


”But to other things would you like coffee.”

She rung a small silver bell and her lady in waiting appeared with a large tray of sandwiches and cakes as well as a steaming silver urn of coffee she removed the third cup when she left.  The Count could see the book Algeria was reading it was a copy of the Praestigiis Daemonum especially unlikely reading for a noble woman of Imperial Russia, the Counts interest was piped.

The Count spent the next hour conversing with the Duchess on happier topics. Again it mostly revolved around the social scene but with a Russian and Eastern slant. He also noted several names he had not heard were in London. The Count invited her and the Countess to attended church an offer that had been made before. Apparently the Duchess was also great friends with Baroness Rothschild and her children and had heard great things about the Count. When it was time for him to leave the Duchess asked for the Count to visit again soon and thanked him for coming all this way from London. He bowled again before he left and followed the lady in waiting down the stairs.
He expected to leave immediately but once downstairs again Margrete asked the count to follow her and entered another room that he assumed was the library. He quickly scanned the shelves nothing out of the ordinary but still slightly better than most.

Margrete turned and said:

”The Duchess would like you to look at another piece she has not made up her mind if she will sell but would ask you to make an offer by way of return post.”

She then turned and with a small gold key opened a large black traveling case. As she turned around the Count could see it was one of the famous Imperial Easter eggs. The Alexander III Commemorative Egg from Easter 1909. The Count opened the egg to see the surprise and made a quick inventory, it was complete. This was an incredible opportunity nearly every noble house in Europe would bid on this item. It would also be the first to come to market. The Count wore a face of impassive disinterest.

”Very well you shall have an answer by Wednesday next week at the latest.”

”This is the items information and I have also been instructed to give you this please do not open it until you are on your return journey. ”

The lady in waiting looked visible irked at the second request. The Count thanked Margarete and handed her two of his business cards.

He barely remembered the trip back to the castle gates and once he located Perkins they sequestered themselves in an upstairs booth at the pub he had spent the afternoon in. He first gave Perkins the lists and his notes and after studying them for half an hour he looked at the Count with a smile.

”Well you were right and it all seems to be moveable in a short space of time ?”

”The decorative arts, silver, porcelain and art… yes.  Some of the books are niche but we have the collectors already. There was one other thing;”

He passed the Easter eggs description to Perkins. He let out a low whistle.

”It’s really up for sale ? ”

”It would seem so she wants and offer then we will go from there.”

”Everyone will want this, no open auction, private bid or closed tender I think will be best.”

The Count thought for a minute as Perkins scanned the lists again.

”If we purchase it I think private bid no institutions. There are several families here and in America, let us see if she will let it go first.”

”So what do you think of the offer on the current crop ?”

”Very close to the mark maybe a little under I see what you mean on the books I am sure Mrs Evans will take the lion’s share of what does not sell.”

Perkins father and grandfather were antique dealers and their Manchester and Birmingham showrooms were renowned. It was the post war depression that had finally closed their doors and Perkins was unable to restart the business when he returned. The Count trusted his advice completely and his intuition had enabled their business to prosper.

As they boarded the return train The Count remembered the envelope the lady in waiting had given him. He opened it as they sat in their private booth; the seal had an impressed of a bear holding a coat of arms.

The note was short and to the point

I wish to see your shop, reply with a convenient time.
Countess Alegra Dunneesston


The Count did not show the note to Perkins who had begun to make a list of potential collectors who would be contacted. It looks as though he had started with the books.

Once they were back at the shop the Count undressed upstairs he did not return the items to the trunk instead arranging them in his room and hanging his uniform in the closet. As he descended to the shop floor he saw Perkins had begun the paperwork they had been putting off. The quarterly copy of their catalogue was ready to be printed and mailed and Perkins was working on the final touches.

The Count was answering his private and business mail a task that took them into the evening. They finished the evening shelving and pricing the new stock that had come in during the previous weeks and the Count sent a couple of letters to potential interested parties. He then telephoned Mrs Sarah Evens and gave her a detailed account of the meeting. She said she would over for an early breakfast and to see the lists in the morning.

They shared dinner on the terrace and Perkins decided to stay the night in one of the spare rooms, not looking forward to the journey south of the river. They were rather late getting to bed after sharing a bottle of bandy and several cigars.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Sat 24 Jan 2015.
Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 298 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Sat 26 Jan 2013
at 04:27
  • msg #8

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program


As he closed the envelope and affixed the stamp the Count wondered how long the Countess would take to reply. He had said that he would make the shop available at whatever time the Duchess and Countess were next in London and would be honored if they would have lunch with him.

He had enclosed his letter in the more muted white with the red boarder envelope as opposed to the bright red ones he was known for. He looked across to Mrs Evens who was at Perkins desk looking over the lists from the Duchess. Perkins was helping a customer at the front of the shop so he quickly popped out to meet the morning post collection.

It was the following day and the Count had just unlocked the front door and changed the sign to open as he was walking away he heard the door open and turned to see a woman dressed in a full cape with cowl. It was only after she removed the hood that he recognized the Countess.


”Ah Countess how good to see you again… Sorry but we were not expecting you. Is the Duchess with you ?”

“No my Aunt is not with me but she asked me to give you this.”

She handed him a white envelope with a wax seal.

“I wished to see your shop so that is why I am here.”

She took off her cape and was dressed in a simple blue and white striped dress she handed her cloak to the Count and began browsing the shelves. The Count stood rooted in the spot as she moved off, then as if coming out a daze walked back to his desk and hung up her cloak. As Perkins arrived several minutes later The Count introduced him to the Countess who gave him a nod. As the Count walked back to his desk he said to Perkins

“That’s more then I got on first meeting her.”

The Countess spent the rest of the morning scanning the shelves and reading. She did not acknowledge either man again, though the Count though he caught her a couple of times looking in his direction before quickly looking in her book again. At 12:30 the Count climbed the stairs to the landing and found the countess sitting on one of the leather library chairs next to the occult book shelves.

“Countess would you do the pleasure of accompanying me for lunch. I usually dine at my club if that is all right ?”

“That will be acceptable.”

She followed him down the stairs and took her cloak when he offered it to her. The Count told Perkins he would be back around 1:30, who waved them off with his ham sandwich. The Count gave him a wide eyed bemused look as he closed the door.

As soon as they were on the pavement the Countess again put her cowl over her head. This put the Count on the back foot so the journey to the club was very quiet.



They were seated in the Counts favorite table overlooking the stairs down to Saint James Park. He ordered his usual lunch and as the Countess ordered he asked if she would like wine and she just asked the waiter for water.


“Your shop is very small but your stock is somewhat better than I expected.”

The statement again caught the Count off guard.

“Well… well thank you we do try our best. Was there an area in particular that you are interested in ?

“The history and mythology of my homeland. The religious texts you have acquired from my Aunts library, especially those that deal with excommunication and the banishing of demons.”

The last statement caught the Counts attention.

“I have a personal library that has several unique and very rare pieces that deal exclusively with that facet of the occult. It would seem to be a rather different interest for a Lady of your stature ?”

The last comment had probably come out wrong but the Countess seemed not to notice in fact she seem to show a slight expression of emotion, was it joy. She composed herself immediately;

“I wish to see this library on our return.”

The Count thought for a minute as they ate,

“The library is in my personal quarters and I don’t think you Aunt would approve. If you would like to return with her I would be happy to show you both.”

“My Aunt does not approve of my interest she believes it will bring more calamities, that is partly why she sold my reference books to you. She does not know I am here, so what she does not know will not hurt her. I will see your library on our return.”

The rest of the meal had pasted in relative silence on the part of the Countess, the Count had chatted about the area of London surrounding the park. Then he went on about acquiring the shop and the first summer clearing the basement.

Once they had returned the Count explained to Perkins where he would be for the next couple of hours and under his breath to check on them to see that she had not sucked his blood out. Perkins said he would with a smile on his face has he went back to sorting a large order of books that had just arrived.


The Count then showed the Countess to the attic library, on the way he gave her a tour of sorts of the townhouse. She showed no emotion just following the Count until they arrived in the library.


At that point she disappeared in the stacks and the Count realised he had no work with him. He took a seat at the desk and began his correspondence; he had received a letter from a distant Great Aunt and had been mulling what his reply would be for several days. With the lights on and the curtains drawn the Count had let the hours slip by until he checked his pocket watch.


He jumped up with a start. Calling for the Countess he walked the stacks until he found her sitting on the floor several large tomes laid before her.

”It is getting late Countess we must get you to the station for your train.”

“Very well, but I wish to return… Soon.”

The last statement had been an order from the look on her face. She rose and put a thick notebook into a side pocket on her dress. The Count had called a cab and then realising the situation had insisted he accompany the Countess back to Windsor.

She had not resisted further once they were on the train but did not converse with the Count for the entire journey. Once they arrived at the station there had been a car waiting for the Countess and by the look on the drivers face had been for some time. The Count waved as the Countess departed but she did not look in his direction. He was able to catch the last train back to London but arrived back at the shop very late.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Sat 24 Jan 2015.
Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 407 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Fri 21 Jun 2013
at 21:33
  • msg #9

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

The Count held one of the large wooden doors that made up the garage entrance in the mews/coach house of 39-40 Upper Brook Street as the second of the three delivery trucks entered. Mr Grey signalled that this was the last and asked the driver of the third to park at the main entrance on Brook Street itself.


He took the side entrance into the hallway then into the main garage where the first crates where already off the trucks. He went to lend a hand but Mr Grey handed him a clipboard;

”If you wouldn’t mind Sir, best leave the heavy work to those being paid.”

The Count spent the rest of the afternoon as the crates were carefully moved to the vaults in the basement of the house, ticking them off his list. Originally the building had been a private bank before Mrs Evens family had brought the two town-houses and combined them into one home. The smaller pieces where arranged in the library on several of the large map tables. The majority of the crates were the dinner services that happened to be a lot larger than the Count has anticipated.

Sarah Evans was still thinking whether she would take it and the gilt rock crystal cutlery set. She kept asking when it was likely she would hold a dinner party for one hundred. Then the Count would catch her studying the sets again. They had decided to hold a salon sale for the smaller items with a private tender system. In this way the highest price would always win out. Nearly all the people who had been invited did not need to consult bank accounts or lines of credit when thinking of purchasing something.

The Count had already deposited the pieces he wished to keep in his private vault. Nothing to ostentatious just a small selection of booty for a job well done. The discussions for the Imperial egg where still on-going but the Count had paid another visit to the Duchess and they had walked in the royal park trailed by her household. After the Countesses visit to the shop he thought her opinion of him may have mellowed even if their correspondence did not reflect this. He had received a letter a day since her visit not personal correspondence per say, it was all very much to the point, the point being his library and the contents of his books. This may have swayed the Duchess more to the side of selling though they did not discuss any purchase.

The reply to his offer had been quick and the counter offer not unrealistic. Perkin's had thought his first offer low so when the Duchess replied slightly higher he had said that it was

”Bang on the money”

Whatever that meant. The sculpture and paintings were being exhibited and the two Rembrandt's had sold to a client for a considerable sum. Sarah Evens had taken several of the silver pieces and would probably take the large cutlery and tableware sets. The Count had been surprised at how quickly the books had been sold and for more than he had expected. He did not get a chance to shelve any of them before several key collectors had snapped them up.

For some reason he had retained the Countesses small selection of reference books, they had sat on his desk in his private library for several days. So it was really just the small decorative works that would be sold tonight.


The Count had not asked Perkin's how the dispersement in regards to the cash total was going but knew the loan from Coutts was paid in two days.

Once the workmen had finished Mr Grey had left the Count in the library as he attended to other matters. The party was to be a medium sized affair with a few select clients and friends. He knew the Baron Rothschild and his wife would be attending and he had a suspicion the Duke of Kent would show up.


It was at this moment that Mrs Evens entered the room with several envelopes and pieces of paper in her hand. She was dressed in a simple white silk dress. When she saw the Count she said;

”There you are, what have you been up to look at these…look.”

He took the pile of papers and she folded her arms. From the look of it they were invitations to the Henley regatta, the Oxford and Cambridge boat race, several shoots and two balls at Buckingham Palace and Clarence House.  He looked back over the others and they were either in the Royal Box or at the invitation of the Royal Party.

“Bloody George.”

He said under his breath

“Well see the thing is. I have a friend, who actually maybe coming tonight. Funny thing that. Well he is rather famous, well not famous in the celebrity sense, actually sort of I suppose.”


He could feel he was not making himself clear and Sarah’s eyes had thinned to slits, not a good thing. So he sort of blurted the rest out;

“I am good friends with Prince George, the Duke of Kent.”

She stood there staring at him with her mouth open and her eyes nearly fully dilated. He was going to ask if she was alright, but she turned and ran out of the library yelling for Mr Grey and Mrs Haver the housekeeper, then several seconds later.

”ALL STAFF, ALL STAFF.”

It sounded like a herd of elephants was coming down the stairs as the entire household staff descended to the hallway. By the time he was at the library door the staff had assembled and Mrs Evans was on the base of the stairs franticly giving instructions he only caught short snippets of what she said;

“Good friend…. Count Bathony…… Duke….Kent….tonight for gathering…..only seven hours…..GO GO GO…..”

Both Mr Grey and Mrs Haver then gathered their staff around them and also franticly gave instructions. As he saw Mrs Evens on the stairs he gave a little wave then abruptly stopped as she fixed him with her gaze and marched towards him. He backed into the library as she arrived; she closed the door behind her rather loudly.

“How long have you known the Prince would be coming and and, and how do you even know him ? Where did you meet ? Why is he inviting me, what have you said Sigismund about me what, what ?”

The Count was scared he did not expect her to react this way, she seemed, well very put out.

“I.. I… thought you would be pleased to meet him. He is certainly eager to meet you. It was the Prince who facilitated the meeting with the Duchess, I met him about two years ago at one of my lectures and we have met up for drinks pretty much every fortnightly since.  I have only spoken of you as my closest friend and well that’s pretty much it.”

She reacted so quickly he was caught completely off guard as he launched herself forward and kissed him and not in the just friend’s sense. This was something completely new. He though it could not have gone on for as long as it felt. She then abruptly turned and again ran out of the library.

He asked after her:

“Should I wait here?”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:10, Fri 16 Aug 2013.
Count Sigismund Bathony
player, 619 posts
Antiquarian Book Dealer
Owner Abingdon Rare Books
Sat 24 Jan 2015
at 07:29
  • msg #10

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program


The visitors had arrived from 7pm onwards dressed in their finery. The Count was situated at the library door to greet people as they entered. The light levels in the library had been raised by lowering of the chandeliers to best show off the items on display.

This had happened earlier in the afternoon as the Count had sat reading he helped the staff as best as he could but had largely just stayed out of the way as the house was cleaned from top to bottom and several people with strained looks on their faces rushed from one point to another. The Count had not seen Sarah Evens since she had kissed him in the library, he thought he had spied her running up the stairs earlier but he could not be sure.

He had taken a copy of the Demonomanie des Sorciers from the shelves and had spent a couple of hours making some notes for himself. This was the only copy he knew of in the United Kingdom and maybe Western Europe so he took the opportunity when he was not needed.  Mr Grey entered the library about 4pm and told the Count that his usual room had been set aside for him to dress when he was ready. He also carried a tray with an urn of coffee and a small selection of sandwiches. The Count asked as he turned to leave;
”Mr Grey, I am sorry that I did not tell the household staff of the possible arrival of the Duke.”
”Think nothing of it Sir. It is great honor you have bestowed on this house; I hope it is only the first of many visits. Since my Lord passed this house has been in a sort of long winter until your friendship with Mrs Evens so maybe we can open up somewhat more.” He gave a slight bow as he left.

The Count went back to his book and notes as he cleared the tray and emptied the urn over the course of the next hour. He then decided he had left it long enough and left the library. He gave a visual start as he looked along a completely unfamiliar hallway. It had been decorated with pedestals that alternated with white marble busts and arrangements of white lilies. They had been joined with white and blue ribbons to create an avenue to the library. As he stepped out he noticed the ribbons had been attached to the entire length of the ceiling and intertwined with the chandeliers.

He climbed the stairs while not holding the handrail as it had been decorated with ivy and ribbons. The room set aside for him was at the back of the house next to the library. It did not have any windows that faced externally but did have two windows with opaque glass that overlooked the five story library. At one time he knew there had been a light well on this side of the house and on the other and that these windows had provided light to the internal rooms in the house. They still did but to a more lesser extent.

He looked over his suit that had been laid out on the bed and then took a quick shower. As he dressed he ran through his head who had rsvp and those who are likely to turn up unannounced. There were approximately forty guests with a slant to the people of the East and collectors of such things. He knew of at least twelve clients who were coming including two who were being chauffeured over by Perkins. Once resplendent in his full fig he went back downstairs.

As he struggled with one of his cuff links, a set of regimental links that always gave him trouble he heard someone else descending that stairs. He turned and felt his jaw drop as Mrs Evens descended she was dressed in a blue and white silk dress and her hair was up in a style that the Count had not seen before. He now saw why the color scheme had been chosen for the house, it only amplified the effect of Sarah Evens in the dress. He offered her his hand as she descended the last steps and gave him a smile he spied several maids pecking around the corner watching her descended they quickly disappeared when they saw they had been spotted in a fit of giggles.

He could see from the base of the stairs that the lower part of the library had also been decorated but to a lessor effect as the objects on display were the stars of the night. Perkins must have also been as the selection of Eastern religious texts had been arranged on the table below the icons. The Count had taken the opportunity to display some of his own stock at a large mark up for the night. He hoped to sell at least one or two pieces by association, it was an old technique used by all the auction houses when they sold a complete famous library.

He was about to complement Sarah Evens when he heard the front door bell. It had certainly been a mad afternoon for everyone except himself. He took another quick view along the corridor and saw another group arriving as the first took champagne flutes from a tray offered from a footman. Sarah Evens led the first group into the library leaving all subsequent guests to be taken care of by Mr Grey. The members of the private library society had been the first to arrive, the Count greeted each of them warmly and then let them move further into the library. He stayed in the same place as each group entered the library and Sarah Evans worked the room.


When the Baron and Baroness Rothschild arrived with their eldest daughter the Count escorted them into the library as the ladies quickly departed to view the tables and say hello to Sarah Evens. The Baron stayed at the Counts side and asked;


“So Bathony you have found another way to enter my bifold, books not doing well enough for you.”
The Count gave him a mocked look of shock as he spied both the Baroness and her daughter excitedly looking over several of the jeweled compacts and cases.
“I only meant to empty it once tonight maybe twice.”
“Indeed and looking at those two you may get your wish”
He watched his wife place a bid into the wooden box while his daughter wrote out another.
“I hear you will be joining us for the house party, I am glad I need to regain some honor after you trumped me during the shoot.“
The Baron clapped him on the shoulder as he shook his hand.
“Well I think I see something more along the lines of my interest it’s good to see you again.”
The Baron moved towards the books. The Count made a mental note to give him a large discount on subsequent purchases from his shop if he brought any of the pieces on display.

He returned in time to see that the Duke had indeed arrived and on time. He pasted over his hat gloves and scarf as the Count started down the hall.
“Sigismund good to see you… where is our gracious hostess ?”
At that moment Sarah Evens appeared at the Counts side taking his hand in her gloved hand. He though it was for support than anything else, but then maybe not.
“Your highness…” she gave a curtsy as the Duke looked on.
“You are as bad as each other“  he said
”And please call me George, Bathony does.”
He then kissed her hand as he lead her towards the library by the time the Duke was at the door they were deep in conversation. The Duke took a tumbler of scotch as he asked Sarah evens a series of questions the Count did not catch her answers. He watched as they were surrounded by the crowd, the Duke acknowledging several of the guest personally.

As he was watching he heard a voice in his ear; “He does know how to make an entrance that man. Good evening Count how are you on this fine eve, such a smell of cash in the air.”
The Count turned and saw one of his oldest friends in London, Chips…… The Count hugged his friend.


“Chips, I thought you were still in New York.”
“An earlier plane old bean. I couldn’t miss your fine soirée could I. Get a load of this room.”
He put his hands on his hips and as he looked up to the ceiling let out a whistle that caught the attention of those around him. The Count smiled he really had no shame.
“Well man lets have at it no use you watching the door.”
He linked arms with the Count as he let him in, taking a champagne flute on the way.

An hour had pasted, the Duke had retired with Sarah Evens and a large group to a set of couches that had been set up by the black velvet curtains on the far side of the library. Chips was retelling a scandalous story that involved himself and several debutantes that had taken place last season. The Count was in discussion with the Rothschild’s about his visit with the Duchess and the feeling of isolation they felt when they had visited. It was at this point that Mr Grey appeared

“A word Sir”
The Count said his apologies to the Rothschild’s
“Another Guest has arrived and asked for you.”
The Count followed Mr Grey down the hall, most of the servants were now in the library so the hall was empty. Except for a pair of under house maids watching the party from the wings. Mr Grey shooed them back down the stairs to the kitchens. It was then that he saw the Countess Dunneesston.


Waiting at the door with her white fox fur coat in her arms. She was dressed in a blue silk dress and long white gloves she was wearing a tiara, necklace and bracelets all in blue sapphires and diamonds.
“Countess how good to see you again…. we were not expecting you this evening.”



“No I expect not Count, I have come to see my family jewels sold.”
She thrusts her coat in to the Counts arms as she walk past him. Mr Greys eyes were wide as the Count past it over to him. The Count caught up with her and asked as they walked;
“And the Duchess is well I trust.”
“As well as can be expected in the situation. Is this your house ?”
“No… ah no… it is the house of my good friend Mrs Sarah Evens she has gratuitously offered it for tonight event. Let me introduce you.”
She stopped and turned to him in the doorway of the library;
“Are you linked ?”
The Count surmised what she meant; it must be a Russian term.
“No we are just very good friends.”
“Yes I wish to meet her. Introduce me. Now.”
The Count was now getting use to her abrupt Russian manner though he wondered how Sarah Evens would take her.
“This way Countess.”


The Duke and Sarah Evens were already moving across the library towards the new guest. The Count made the introductions as the other guests looked on the Countess seemed to make a very big impression. Baron Rothschild raised his glass and the Countess gave him a nod. The Baronesses Rothschild had not noticed the guest and it was only when her daughter whispered in her ear the she turned and raised he hand to her mouth. The Duke added;
“Countess if I had known you were coming I could have sent a car.”
“It was not needed but thank you your grace.”
The Count had never heard her thank anyone before and had the feeling her offhand manner was reserved for him. This was confirmed when Sarah Evens and the Countess began to converse like old friends and as Sarah Evens began to introduce the young Countess to the other guests the Count was left alone in the center of the library.
Chips was at his side and like always had a rather witty observation;
“She either likes you or is going to stab you.”
He raised his eyebrow and his glass as the Count looked at him.
“I think the latter Chips, hide the knives.”


The rest of the evening was somewhat of a blur. He had stopped noticing the bids being cast as soon as the Countess had arrived and Sarah Evens had taken it upon herself to keep the Countess occupied. It looked as though they were the best of friends by the end of the night. The Count had spent the rest of the night conversing with the rest of the guests. The Duke and Chips had left at about the same time probably to other parties the Count expected. The Rothschild's and their daughter left around eleven and the other guest by twelve.

Perkins appeared at the library door with a large ledger book under his arm as the last guests were being let out. He collected the bid box and after talking with the Count for several minutes sat at one of the tables going through the bids.
The Count was eager to know how the night had gone so after collecting a tumbler from Mr Grey he absently perused the tables while he waited. He suspected that the night would provide the society gossips of London with some fodder, but he hoped it was largely to do with what a success the night had been.

It was at this point that Sarah Evens reappeared at the library door having said goodbye to the last of the guests. To the Counts surprise the Countess also appeared
“The Countess is going to stay tonight so she does not have to catch the late train to Windsor. I have sent a note to the Duchess advising her of the change in plans and that the Countess will also be returning tomorrow afternoon. That way we can spend tomorrow getting to know each other and the Countess has asked to view the library properly.”
She turned to Mr Grey
“We can close up and please leave the library until tomorrow morning. I think we will have breakfast out please let Mrs Haver know.”
The Count was somewhat stunned, Sarah Evens was a very good judge of character and would not befriend the Countess unless she felt she was genuine. She must just not like him he thought.
“I think Sigismund we will change into something less formal for the rest of the evening. Countess this way I think I have something appropriate for you.”
The Count took off his jacket after they left and then downed what was left in his tumbler. He then returned to the copy of Demonomanie des Sorciers as he waited for both Perkins and the ladies to return. Perkins was first, he called the Count over.

In a matter of fact way, as was his manner he started;
“All the lots have sold for double my estimate on average some for vastly more. Some of the lots had over twenty bids. You have done very very well Bathony. Well we all have done well, we have made a nine hundred percent profit on our investment. With the sculpture and lesser paintings still to sell at the end of the current exhibition I suspect it will be much higher. I shall spend tomorrow packing the items and sending out the invoices and I will now retire Count. I will have a final tally tomorrow and will make the deposits into Coutts at the end of the week. I suspect they will wish to talk to you next week. Goodnight Count.”
The Count knew that Perkins would be staying the night in the servant’s quarters before returning to the shop early in the morning.

The Count had not really thought about how he would spend his newly acquired fortune. He would let Coutts make the initial safe investments for the next twelve months government bonds etc… He wanted to refurbish the shop from top to bottom, better and more shelving, more bedrooms with their own bathrooms, a living room and a more modern kitchen. He would also turn the attic into a brick story and add a second level of shelving making it two stories. This would give him two thirds more shelving.

He had toyed with the idea of buying a Mayfair townhouse similar to, but smaller than the current one he occupied. With the current profit level it was now within reach. But he was happy above the shop so he would begin searching for a country estate first. From his initial inquiries he was somewhat spoiled for choice. The depression starting to take hold had managed to separate some of the oldest families from their land holdings and make many more very insecure. The biggest holdings represented the entire wealth of some of the families and with the farms on the estate returning very little in the way of profit they were becoming a load stone.


-
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Thu 26 Mar 2015.
Nathan Issac
player, 1 post
Egyptologist
Fri 25 Sep 2020
at 09:38
  • msg #11

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

Stan - A Mythos Song

Description

This is a song lyric parody of the song by Eminem of the same name. I wrote it quite some time ago. WARNING: The below lyrics contain some occasional harsh expletives (but they are kinda censored).

(Chorus: Cultist's girlfriend)
My head is frozen to the core and I have lost my soul.
Eldritch forces dance around me and I can't stay sane at all.
And all I see is the great dark sea, and the city that lies beneath
I feel you trapped inside, trapped inside...

(Cultist)
Dear Cthulthu, I sent my thoughts out but you still ain't hearing them, I think.
I sent my ward, my cell, and the name of my shrink.
I sent two prayers back in autumn, you must not-a got em.
It's probably the padded cell blocking out my brainwaves or something.
Sometimes I just write symbols on the walls with my own crap
but anyways; f^&k it, whssup? How's Dagon? - He's Phat!
My girlfriend's pregnant too, One of your deep one servants is the father.
If I have a son, guess what I'm a call him?
I'ma name him Wilbur.
I read about Insmouth too, I'm sorry.
I had a friend sell his soul to Hastur but it didn't want him, not to worry.
I know you probably hear this everyday, but I'm your biggest fan.
I even got made a statue of you from the bones of my old man.
I got the necronomicon too, wat was wrote by that mad arab man.
I read the shit about Ryleh, that sh&t was phat!
Anyways, I hope you get this man, think me back, just to drive me mad, truly yours, your biggest fan.
This is Stan.

(Chorus: Cultists Girlfriend)

(Cultist)
Dear Cthulhu, you still ain't sent me a dream, I hope you heard my whispers.
I ain't mad - I just think it's F^&%$ED UP you don't answer worshipers.
If you didn't wanna talk during my cruise in the pacific you didn't have to, but you coulda sunk the ship!
I sat on the deck and prayed up a storm.
I waited in the blistering sun for you for four hours and got so forlorn.
That's pretty shitty man - you're suppost to be a f&^%ing god.
I want to be down there with you man, up here I just get bored.
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like being ignored.
Remember when I drempt of you - you said I'd be your slave and you would come for me - see I'm your servant in every way.
I can think of nothing greater if you chewed on my ex wife and ate her.
I can relate to what they're saying in THOSE books I used to buy say 'about how some things aint that dead, they just eternal lie.
'Cause I don't really got s&*t else so that s*(t helps when I'm depressed.
I even got a reversed elder sign tattooed on my chest.
Sometimes I even cut up victims to see how much they bleed.
It's easy to dispose of them, My dog will never die from lack of a feed.
See everything in those books is real, and I worship you cause you're part of it.
My girlfriend's scared cause the baby is given her pain.
But she don't know what she's got growing inside her, no one does.
She don't know what it will be like when the thing grows up.
You gotta send me a dream man, I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose.
Sincerely yours, Stan -- P.S. We should be together too.

(Chorus: Cultists girlfriend)

(Cultist)

Dear Mister-I'm-Too-Busy-Being-A-Goey-Octopoidal-Monstrosity-To-Mind-Meld-With-My-Fans, this'll be the last thought I ever send your ass.
It's been six months and still no reply - I don't deserve it?
I know you got my last two dream sendings; I performed the proper rituals perfect.
So this is my dream-thought I'm sending you, I hope you hear it.
I'm in the car right now, I'm doing 90 on the freeway.
I killed my shrink, an' escaped from the asylum when he refused to free me.
You know the song by Eminem, 'Stan' say "about that singer who who coulda saved that other guy from killing himself but didn't, then he read all his letters, but it was too late?
That's kinda how this is, you coulda taken me by drowning.
Now it's too late - I'm losing my faith now, I feel so lowsy and all I wanted was a lousy dream sending an all.
I hope you know I scrubbed out ALL of those symbols I etched on my cell wall.
I loved you Cthulhu, we coulda been together, think about it.
You ruined it now, I hope you continue to sleep and you dream forever.
And your crappy city stays under the sea forever.
I hope your consciouness fades and you can't awake without me.
See Cthulh... (Girfriend Crying Cthulhu Ftang!)
Shut up bitch! I'm trying to talk!
Hey Cthulhu, that's my girlfriend - she's lost her marbles.
I'm taken her to a doctor, see we're through with you.
She's gonna get counselling and an abortion for her deep one brat too.
Well, gotta go, I'm gonna change my name to Norman, throw out all those forbidden texts and then become a mormon!

(Chorus: Cultists Girlfriend)

(Cthulhu)

Dear Stan, I meant to send you a dream sooner but I just been busy.
You said your girlfriend's pregnant with one of my servants, how far along is she?
Look, I'm really flattered you would call your son that, and here's a mythos spell for you to use against your captors, I hope it helps you escape.
I'm sorry I didn't send you the first dream, you musta picked up on my mind.
If I'd of known wou were on that cruise ship I'd have sunk it.
But sayin shit like I ignore my followers is just plain wrong.
I say that shit shows lack of faith, c'mon - show your master true respect.
You got some issues Stan, I think you need some nightmares or something to send your mind over the edge and further toward enslavement.
And what's this shit about us meant to be together?
You're a puny piece of shitt and I'm a god, brother!
I really think you and your girlfriend need to worship me together or maybe you just need to sacrifice her sister.
I hope you comprehend this thought sending, I just hope it reaches you in time before you lose your faith, I don't want your mind to stray away from mine.
If you scream and rave a little, I'm glad I make you fear me you but Stan why aren't you completely mad? Try to understand, that I do want you as a fan.
I just don't want you to regain any sanity real quick.
I felt some bad stuff about a follower a couple weeks ago that made me sick.
Some dude got out of an aslylum and then became a mormon and put his girlfriend in his car, and she was pregnant with a deep one and took her to the doctor, and gave her an abortion too.
Come to think about, the guys name was.. it was you.

Damn!
This message was last edited by the player at 09:40, Fri 25 Sept 2020.
Cynthia Jane Holloway
player, 1091 posts
Dilettante
Globetrotting Free Spirit
Wed 7 Oct 2020
at 19:08
  • msg #12

Re: Miskatonic U. Creating Writing Program

*STANDING APPLAUSE!!* That looks like a ton of work. Now to find someone to perform it!
Sign In