Dawn broke on the morning of the 24th of March, in the Year of Our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Twenty Five.

It was a Tuesday. The day turned out to be cool and clear, save for a few light clouds at several thousand feet elevation. The wind was brisk off the ocean, an easterly breeze bearing due east. Karlheinz and John-Marc agreed it would have been a fine early spring day for flying.

The weather held up for the day, although the people staying at the remote farm were waiting for night.

A watch was posted in the barn by Major Storm to observe the road and the river and a rough plan was formed in case (against all luck) the Brotherhood attacked them. If they came from the south via the road, the Major and the Egyptian brothers would hold them off with the Lewis gun while the rest tried to escape by boat. If they came by river from the north or west, vice-versa but use the trucks to escape via road. If all else failed and they were unable to escape by river or road then any survivors would try to make it to the crumbling brick remains of the Naze lighthouse tower, and hold out as long as possible until someone (constabulary? Army? Freemasons?) arrived.

Fortunately, nothing happened as they dozed through the day, conserving their strength. Soon enough, it was night.

JM was up early brewing a double pot of strong coffee as well as tea.  He had a flash of whiskey handy to provide a wee bit of fortification as needed.  Puffing nonchalantly on a cigar he observed the clear sky.  "It's a perfect, clear night for us.  Fog would mask us but complicate our approach and departure.  It's better to see what we need to in the night."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 2):

Karlheinz stared up into the starry sky. There was no moon, of course, that being the key to this foul ritual.

"Ya, enough light to see by, not enough to give us away. Would have been fuelling up the Zeppelins for a raid on a night like this."

He smiled ruefully at the former RAF pilot, knowing they may have been on differing sides of the last conflict but were on the same one here.

Karl had changed into wool trousers and a wool-lined long coat due to the cold. On his head was a black wool watch cap from his Imperial Navy days, he wore fingerless gloves.

The Counts mood had become more sombre and he seem to engage less with group as the jumping off time approached. He did listen intently as the last of the plans where gone over fro the last time. these included any slight changes due to the weather conditions.

He stood looking out over the water as people assembled. His rifle was slung over his shoulder and he had made a slight change to his uniform in that he had dulled the mirror shine on his high boots. During the wait Mr Perkins approached the Count and after several minutes they shook hands and the Count clasped his friends shoulder.

With that he was ready to leave. One last thing the Count handed out red and white silk armbands to all taking part in the raid.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 4):

Accepting an armband with his thanks, Storm was bundled into his army great coat, scarf, gloves and his field cap.

"Thanks, Count! Should help a lot for recognition."

"John-Marc, we should start out soon for the front gates. You want to send up a flare for us to open fire, have us send up a flare to signal you, or we just time the attack for 11 o'clock?"

JM took an armband with a nod of thanks.  "The arm bands are a very good idea Count, thank you."

He looked over to Storm.  "Move out now and be ready.  We'll signal you when you should begin your attack.  I'll wait until we are well into the complex before we have you open fire.  There is no need to alert them until they are aware of our presence.  Then your attack will confuse them and hopefully split their forces."

9pm

After the sun went down it became overcast, a thick layer of clouds blocking out what little light there was from the stars. There was a smell of rain, but no drops pattered down, yet.

An hour before they went "over the top", they groups split up, carefully getting into position. Storm and his group drove off, intending to park a ways away and then quietly get into position.

The group with the boats loaded up and shoved off into the placid Naze estuary. It was still too cool to hear any insect buzzing or bird chirps until dawn. The experienced river men used dim hooded lamps to guide their way through the gloom. Using a map and compass, Imran and John-Marc successfully navigated the unmarked reaches and branches of the lower Naze. The boats ghosted quietly through the reeds, drawn by strong arms on the oars, coming to a stop at the branch that led to al Misr house about a half-mile away.

Up-branch, they could see the lights of al Misr house reflecting off the water. It was too far away to hear anything but it looked like every light was blazing in the night. There were also torches lit elsewhere on the island, and what looked to be a tremendous bonfire near the obelisk. It was certain that anyone on the island would be quite night-blind if they looked into the blackness of the river during their unholy ritual.

The time by JM's wristwatch (as befitting an aviator) and Imran and the Count's pocket watches read five of ten, almost time to go.

https://maps.google.com/maps/m...p;spn=0.031,0.055189

Keeper's Note: At a half-mile distant, you should be able to row there in about 5-6 minutes. To cut down your final dash you can move a little closer (say a quarter mile) with some risk of being discovered, although it's very slight.

Cynthia is staying low in the boat, wrapping herself up in her coat. The men seem to have a strategy, and she trusts them, but nevertheless it seems perhaps a good time for her to rekindle her relationship with God.

JM will suggest the obligatory synchronization of the watches before they go.

He holds up a hand to halt.  "Let's stay back and make a dash rather than risk getting spotted."

The Count riffled in his pocket and produced a small spy glass that he used to examine the fires more closely. He tried to see if the ceremony had started and if any victims were present.

Ahhh the stuff that Molly stays awake for at night.  The thrill of the adventure, the possibility of a story, the men around with big guns to protect her...can it get better than this?  The answer would be...yes.  Molly still has to survive in order to write about everything.  That being said, Molly stayed down low with her newest bestest friend...her weapon and waited for the guys to tell her to move.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 11):

The night was quiet aside from the soft slap of water against the side of the boat. He could hear no sounds. There was some movement near the obelisk, as some torchlight was occluded, and figures were silhouetted by the massive bonfire for an instant. The rest of the night was black as ink.

The hour counted down to ten. A few seconds afterwards, there was a sudden flickering glow somewhere to the southwest, roughly in the direction of the gates. A split second later (due to the distance) a pair of explosions echoed across the water. Boom-booom! It was followed by the stuttering crack of a Lewis gun. The distance seemed about right for a mile distant, in the opinion of the veterans in the crew.

JM nodded to the boat men.  "That's the signal, pull to the island.  We need to land and do our thing while the enemy are distracted."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 14):

"Right, guv."

The boatmen started to pull on their oars and the boats leapt forward through the water towards the island.

The Count readied his rifle and held it at waist height. One of the first off the boats he scanned the surroundings as the others alighted. Once the landing was made he moved off with the others as had been planned.

The water was cold and about waist deep. As wading wouldn't be the best plan, they ghosted through the reeds surrounding the islet, then bumped up against the low wood retainer walls. These prevented the tides and occasional storm from eroding the small island completely away, gave it some degree of permanence.

From a ways away they could hear the clattering of the Lewis gun, still firing, as the sound echoed across the estuary basin. A few red tracers seemed to be zooming straight up in the air! (Thankfully, not a lot.) The veterans (especially JM who'd made many strafing runs) knew this was because a number of rounds that hit hard surfaces like stone were likely to ricochet upwards either straight or at an angle. Those that were not soldiers possibly wondered what the red sparks that drifted up in the air off in the distance before winking out were all about.

Quietly, they disembarked without undue disaster. Through the long grass (turned brown over the winter months) they could see the black stone obelisk. It was surrounded by a ring of about a hundred lit torches set in iron holders placed in a 50-foot radius.

The area seemed deserted. Not too far away, the mansion burned with light. Figures could be seen dashing about in front and in behind, faint shouts could be heard.

Ken helped secure the boats and then scrambled up over the low wall and crouched on one knee in the long grass.  He spoke in a quiet voice to the others.  "Can you see Gavigan and the leaders near the obelisk with your glass Count?  If not we'd be best to move straight into the mansion."

The Count raises his spy glass again trying to pick out the leader of this show. He had instructed Mr Perkins to take a shot on Mr Gavigan if one was available once they had made it into range.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 20):

Perkins raised his rifle. His companions covered to the right and left.

There was no one near the obelisk. It was impossible to pick out a leader among the people running around outside the building.

A couple more grenade explosions were heard from in the direction of the front gate.

As the island looms ahead, Singh reaches out to give Miss Cynthia an encouraging pat on the shoulder. He grips his rifle tightly as the boat thumps against the wall and scrambles up and onto the solid ground, turning to give Miss Holloway and others a hand.

Then, crouching low, advances through the reeds and bracken that line the bank. Reaching a thicket of bushes, he lies down and peers through the cover to observe their adversaries more closely.

Seeing no immediate threat or target around the obelisk, he shifts his gaze to the mansion.

Perkins peered through the telescopic sight mounted on his Lee-Enflied.

"Bloody hell... excuse me, sir. Don't see Gavigan."

Cynthia gives Mr. Singh a smile; barely visible in the poor light. She happily accepts his hand and a gentle hoist up; without it, she'd probably never manage to scale the wall.

Once up, she kneels down behind an outcropping of tall grass and shrubbery, letting Mr. Singh help up anyone behind her, or scan the area for enemies. So far the whole affair was like a surreal twist on grouse hunting, complete with the men out beating the bushes.

And just like grouse hunting, she has the worry in the pit of her stomach that she's not totally welcome here; that she's a liability, and even in the minds of her trusted friends, an intruder into the territory of men. Or perhaps it's not their minds, but hers, that recognizes that.

Cynthia is quiet, and careful to stay further back and out of the way, letting the men set the direction and pace.

Molly was glad that she usually wore slacks for this was the type of thing that she would need them for.  She tried her best to climb up when she was told to but she certainly wasn't going to ignore a helping hand either.

Her breath caught in her throat as the clock kept ticking away.  Would they be in time?  Would they stop the insanity of all this?  Or would the next headlines be "Mourning for Mongo"?  Molly shook her head.  She didn't like that last headline thought.

The Count returned his spy glass back into his pocket. There was nothing for it they had to get closer and press the attack before the other gate defenders were over run.

"All right lets have at them, like we planned.... forward."

JM reaches down and with the glint of a smile in the darkness offers Molly a hand up out of the boats and over the low wall.  "Here you go Miss Fuller, just keep your head down and eyes open and all should be well."  If he let his hand linger a bit longer than strictly necessary it was hard to tell in the confusion of the landing.

He nodded in the darkness to the Count.  "Ok, we advance on the mansion and take them from behind.  Let's see if we can hold our fire until we are inside the mansion to catch them further by surprise."

The group bypassed the obelisk and the lit area, as it was deserted, heading towards the mansion.

In front of them a truck started up and, loaded with men, passed in front of the building. It was driving towards the bridge and the road to the front gate.

Keeper's Note: any kind of marching order? Or is everyone just in a kind of mob?

The Count whispers to those around him;

"I think we need to take out the truck that many men could break the gate defenders.

"I am on it, Count," Singh replies, "Carry on to the mansion."


Taking several quick steps to separate himself from the others, he kneels and takes aim at the driver in the cab, fairly certain that a rifle shot would not be remarked amid the noise of shooting at the gate.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Sat 29 Dec 2012.

"Very good Mr Singh, Mr Perkins would you please help Mr Singh with covering our advance and dealing with the truck and contents."

The Count then continues to the entrance to the mansion with the others.

Looking at the mob of people, CSM Jones gritted his teeth as he pulled back the bolt on his rifle to chamber a round.

"Yee lot! Spreed yeut. Wuh ma neet be the anny ones wi' grenades."

He then jabbed a finger at Molly and Cynthia and said in his best Company Sergeant Major's voice, "totties, if yas comin' then bloody wey keep tuh the reor an' try neet tuh clarts things up!"

In reply to Imran Singh (msg # 32):

Leaving the boatmen to safeguard their primary means of exit, the group moved past the obelisk. It was badly kept, with long grass and weeds. There was a glint of yellow-white, shards of bone. Possibly an animal, some told themselves, but the veterans of the war recognised human bone. And in one place, an intact human skull lay among the weeds.


Singh's bullet struck the driver somewhere in the right side, possibly in the head (although it was impossible to tell at this range considering the light). Wherever he was wounded he immediately slumped over the wheel, and the truck slewed out of control. It careened down the bank beside the bridge and plowed down into the river with a tremendous splash!

Unfortunately, the water was shallow and the truck wasn't going very fast. But everyone inside was thrown about and it's likely some were injured.

It appeared that with the departure of the truck (carrying reinforcements to the gate) everyone else was ushered inside, leaving the area outside the mansion deserted.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:01, Sun 30 Dec 2012.

Singh moves in a crouching run on the trail of the truck, slinging his rifle as he goes and keeping to the side of the drive where the darkness and shrubberies should disguise his outline. He digs in his musette bag and comes up with two grenades. As he gets within about five yards of the crash, he arms one grenade and slings it into the rear of the machine.

Not watching where it lands, he ducks behind a tree and readies the second bomb.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:35, Sun 30 Dec 2012.

JM waves Cynthia and Molly to the rear and then advances toward the mansion.  As Singh deals with the truck he moves up to the outside of the mansion near a window where he can listen or peer inside.

<ooc> I'd say we advance in open order.  JM will go to the front </ooc>

The Count follows towards the mansion. He looks for a door, main or otherwise and takes a position to the right of it away from any windows and providing cover from the occupants.

Perkins and the Jones' brothers followed the Count, as did Darlington and his men.

As Singh neared the half-drowned lorry he saw several men had already gotten out. Their legs were silhouetted by the dim glow of underwater headlamps. A man he believed to be Tewfik al Sayed was shouting something in Arabic, a warning of some kind.

Prepping and throwing the first grenade, he was speared by a torch beam from only a few yards away! Several shots rang out at close range, muzzle flashes and bullets zipping by in that curiously odd slow-motion way of battle. They must be terrible shots as he was completely untouched! There was more yelling as the grenade clattered into the rear of the lorry, rolling down the bed towards the front. Diving behind a tree he heard the grenade explode in the rear of the lorry. Metal shrapnel zinged by his place of refuge.

Arriving at the front they crossed the ill-kept driveway to the main entrance. The once-grand manor was long and rectangular, 2 stories tall and built of dark stone with steep slate roof. It looked like it dated back to at least the English Civil War several centuries before. A couple electric lights had been installed outside, illuminating the driveway area out front and main entrance. It was deserted outside, the windows shuttered. The main doors were made of thick oak, iron-shod. A massive tangle of dead vines left to grow wild covered the outside wall up to the second story.

Over where the lorry crashed, there was gunfire and an explosion. Looking around, some of the party noticed that Singh was no longer in evidence.

Keeper's Note: Google Skyfall mansion and you'll have a good idea of what the building looks like. There is a detached garage, formerly the carriage-house/stable.

As well, make Spot Hidden checks to examine the house.

Seeing Mr. Singh fire on the unarmed truck driver, Cynthia is momentarily taken aback. Her cheeks blanche. But she holds her tongue and follows the group; this would be something to discuss later, if at all.

The CSM's gruff demeanor sets Cynthia on edge, and she stops a moment to consider, but something about John-Marc lets her fall to the rear without her pride being (too) wounded. She stays within thirty feet of the next person, sweeping the sides and rear of the group with her shotgun. When the group reaches the house, she spreads out along the wall, trying to keep out of the way.

While Cynthia can't see Mr. Singh, she is used to him appearing when needed, and so is not too ill-at-ease.

JM examines the house carefully.  The heavily locked front door seemed to be the worst possible way to enter the house although the shuttered windows provided even less access.  Even as he examines the building he calls to the others.  "Cover the front, some one come around the back with me to help find a rear entrance.  We need to get inside while Singh is dealing with the truck."

He keeps his Webley close at hand with the rifle slung over his shoulder.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:30, Tue 01 Jan 2013.

The Count moves at a sprint forward to the main door and once up against the wall will try the handle. He keeps well away from the windows and moves with his rifle at his shoulder ready to engage any incoming fire.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 41):

Seeing the Count and his men covering the front door, Darlington said to his mates, "Lawd above! Rattle an' Hum wiv me." They followed JM around to the rear.

The two groups split up, one heading left around to the rear and the other to the front. Cynthia, Molly and Sykes (one of Darlington's friends) stayed in front.

When he tried it, the Count found front door was quite locked or barred from inside.

Around to the rear, JM and Darlington (plus Pelkingham and MacLeod) discovered a servant's entrance off the kitchen. The door was also iron-shod, and locked or barred from inside.

The windows on the first floor were high and difficult to access, and were shuttered by thick wood planks, and the second floor windows were shuttered as well. JM thought he saw movement on the upper floor in the rear above them over the kitchen door, a silhouette for a second blocking the light seeping from around the edges of the shutter, but it was gone.

From where he was sheltering behind the tree, Singh could hear at least a few of the cultists talking back and forth in Arabic, getting themselves sorted out. An electric torch light lanced out, probing the shore and bushes around him but not coming to rest on his hiding place. Yet.


This message was last edited by the GM at 10:53, Fri 04 Jan 2013.

Cynthia kneels down beside the front wall of the house and levels her gun at the front door (putting herself on the hinge-side if the door opens inward, or the knob-side otherwise, either way so the door won't hide her target) and waits, finger on the trigger.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 45):

Cynthia moved up behind Bathony and his comrades. Bathony and Tom Perkins were to the right of the door as the Count tried the handle, the other Perkins and CSM Jones were to the left.

The large single door opened inwards, hinges were on the left side (looking from outside). From next to the wall she would be unable to shoot inside (and a couple men were also hugging the wall in front of her in her line of fire) but then someone inside would need to come out to shoot here in return!

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 46):

Molly moved up to the wall and stayed back.  She knew that she didn't have a target yet but wasn't all that keen on shooting anyway...at least not at a human being.  These men were doing such hideous acts that it could be argued that they weren't human so it didn't count.  That was a discussion to happen late at night when one tried to sleep after their actions were replayed in their head.  That would probably take place IF it happened.  There were a lot of IFs in this plan.  Hopefully things would turn out.

Molly prepared herself for such an eventuality and takes the safety off while she waits to see what will pop out of the door. She did grin, however, as the thought of the game Pop Goes the Weasels filtered through her brain.  When the door opens up it just might be appropriate.

The door was obviously not going to give with the meagre items and skills the Count possessed. So instead of bunching for a possible attack he directed the group to head to the right looking for another door and a possible way in.

As they approached the corner he stopped and tried to assess the scene of the truck crash.

JM pointed up at the window where the silhouette had appeared.  "Something up there gents.  Be wary."  After he tried the door and found it locked he shook his head.

"Can anyone pick a lock? Otherwise we'll need to find a better way into this place."

Singh pulls a second grenade from his bag. He crouches behind the tree and arms one grenade, throwing it from the right side of the tree toward the nearest electric torch in a short, flat arc. Shuffling two steps to his left and arming the second device, he heaves it in the direction where he heard several voices in close proximity.

Throwing himself onto his side, he covers up until they detonate...
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:10, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

MacLeod, one of the detectives, nodded. "Och aye, Ah reckon Ah ken somethin' abit locked doors. Gie us a minute, willye lads?" He took out his lockpick set and started working on the lock. "Bugger me," he muttered in frustration as he seemed to be having a spot of trouble, even with it being an old lock. Darlington stepped back to keep a nervous watch on the upstairs windows.

Out front, Molly and Cynthia could both hear from nearby, somewhere on the ground floor, the sound of... chanting? As well, the wail of a man's voice in some distress. These were off to their right (looking at the main door.)

Something exploded close by to Singh.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:25, Thu 10 Jan 2013.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 51):

Molly turned to Cynthia and quietly asked "Did you hear that?  It sounded like chanting."  Molly wasn't going to mention it to the others until Cynthia confirmed it.  Weird noises sounded in the night and she wasn't about to make it look like she was imagining things until she either had company in her imagination or a witness.

"Please, hurry Mr. MacLeod. There's an innocent man in danger in there." She turns to the Count and John-Marc. "I heard Phil. When we enter, we'll need to hurry to the right side of the house. If we can do anything to distract them, to stop the ceremony, I think it's time to do that."

If only Mr. Singh hadn't gone off ... Cynthia was sure he'd have found a way in by now, even if it involved climbing by his fingernails to the roof. Where had that man gotten off to anyway?

Having met up with the other group next to the kitchen door the Count momentary left them to work on the lock as he led Mr Perkins, his brother and CSM Jones back to the corner of the house to provide cover and to try and assess the truck accident scene.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:22, Fri 11 Jan 2013.

JM glanced around in the darkness for approaching cultists.  He looked back as the Count attempted to force the door, the shots ringing out in the gloom.  With a frown he nodded to the two women.  "Yes you are correct, there is something going on.  To the right then and rush the ceremony once we are inside!  Now can anyone else work the lock or we'll need to go into the carriage house and look for an axe or something to use as a ram."

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 48):

When they got to the corner, Bathony heard yelling, then a new series of explosions in that direction. "BAM! Ba-BAM!" It was difficult to tell as the booms echoed through the damp riverlands, but it sounded like one, then a pair close together.

There was no other door, so the group from the front met with those trying to force the rear door. Darlington detailed Sykes and Pelkingham to go back and keep watch the front door. MacLeod gave up, backing off to let the Count have a go.

The Count was worried by the amount of action that seemed to be taking place around the scene of the truck accident.

When all other avenues had been exhausted in the attempts to open the door the Count tried his boot and as a last resort his revolver.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 57):

The Count's assault seemed to be fruitless, even on the "weaker" rear door. Damn these Civil War-era portals! A few bulletholes but nothing dramatic. There was fortunately no reaction to the distraction from inside. Whatever was happening over by the bridge, it was quieting down. Mr. Singh had not reappeared.

Putting aside her nervousness, Molly tried her hand at picking the lock.

Inside, the chanting raised to a frantic crescendo!

Keeper's Note: You're in the rear, so the chanting is kind of off to your left.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:14, Sat 12 Jan 2013.

JM watched the attempts at breaking down the door and then picking the locks.  As they worked he looked more carefully at the upper floor windows and the sides of the house.  Perhaps they could scale the walls?

The Count returns to the corner and continues to observe the general direction of the truck crash. He curses himself as he jogs back, sitting in his carpet bag was a small pry bar and a hammer and chisel.

"We may have to retrieve Mr Singh. He has been away to long."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 59):

Molly looked at the attempts to pick the lock and pushed people aside.  "Here let me try.  You guys stay and on watch to make sure I don't get shot at while I do this."

Molly bent over the lock and closed her eyes for a bit.  It always seemed to help.  One of those "feel the lock, be the lock" type things that always sounded good in the papers and directions.  Sometimes it even worked.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:49, Sun 13 Jan 2013.

Being dressed slate blocks, the second story couldn't be scaled without a ladder or climbing gear. They just made buildings too solid so long ago! In many ways, al Misr house was a small fortress, and had been like that for centuries.

Just as she was about to give up, the ancient lock to the kitchen door opened with a loud click. Molly was flooded with a sense of real accomplishment!
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:52, Sun 13 Jan 2013.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 62):

Molly muttered something similar to "chalk one up for Mungo" and put away her tools that she had used.  Once the grin off of her face she turned to the rest and with a grand sweep of her arms indicated that the door was unlocked now.

"There you go.  No offense but I'll just scoot back a bit and let one of you go in first now that it's unlocked."

Darlington replied to the Count, "two ov me blokes are aaaht front. I can take da uvver an' 'ave a look fer Mr. Singh if yew like. Sorted mate."

JM calls out softly to the Count.  "Molly's got it open, come on back." His teeth flashed in the darkness as he smiled at the intrepid reporter.  "Good work Molly.  That helps a lot."

He looks back at the others and hefts his gun.  "Let's go."  He peers carefully into the room, staying in the cover of the doorway.

As he moved back to the kitchen door the Count reloaded his revolver with one of his speed loaders. He doff his hat to Miss Fuller before following Mr Falcon into the house.

He kept his rifle pointed to where he was looking as they moved through the rooms. The Count tried to cover Mr Falcon as he hugged the walls. If he had to look through a doorway he did it at waist height as a means to throw off the aim of anyone covering entrances.

While he understood the urgency of their movement he still tried to do it as safely as possible.

Cynthia doesn't like the comments about her Mr. Singh possibly being in worse straits, but she can't argue with them, or come along, so she shuts her mouth. Hopefully enough noise in the house will bring anyone giving Mr. Singh trouble.

She falls in behind the gentlemen, mostly watching towards the rear of the group. The Count will move forward as quickly as is safe; as much as she wants to badger him, it won't help. Instead, she focuses on remembering everything she's been taught about trigger safety. It simply would not do to shoot on Mr. Singh as he catches up with the group from behind.

With a nod, Darlington took his two remaining men and moved off in the direction that Singh had disappeared. He said to Cynthia, "Lor' luv a duck! Don't worry, I'll find yaaahr man, miss! Know what I mean?"

The room was empty when JM, then the Count and his men entered, followed by Molly and Cynthia. It was pitch dark inside, and when Perkins switched on his torch with a click they saw it was an enormous kitchen. To their right was a huge fireplace and cast iron oven. On the far side of the room were stairs going down to what could have been a cellar. There were a few modern accoutrements, including an icebox, electric stove, modern pots and pans aplenty.

To the left was a door leading into the main house. Closed. Somewhat muffled came the sound of frenzied chanting from the great hall on the far side of the house. They could hear a voice screaming, "no! No! Y'all get away from me now, y'hear?" It sounded like Phil. His voice was drowned out by the chants, and then he started screaming in pain and terror accompanied by a series of thuds and thwacks like clubs striking flesh and breaking bones.

What sounded like Howards voice yelled, "stop it, you savages, you're killing him! God Damn you to Hell, you devils!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:03, Tue 15 Jan 2013.

To the people gathered around him the Count whispered;

"It would seem the time for caution is over, lets move with speed all people encountered are to be shot."

With that he begins by opening the door to begin moving towards the great hall.

JM lets out a low curse despite the presence of the ladies and nods to the Count.  "Savages, damned savages.  Let's do what for to them.  Stay ready ladies as this may get brutal."  He readies his weapon as well as a grenade and follows the count.

Cynthia smiles at Darlington, "I'd be surprised if he even needed the help. But thank you, I know you'll care for him."

Inside the kitchen, Cynthia is a bundle of nerves. She follows a moment after JM and the Count, pausing only enough to swallow her fear. Shotgun held high, she is moving on adrenaline, expecting to fire on the first thing she sees moving.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 70):

"Oh do hurry.  It doesn't sound good for whomever it is in there."

Molly wished she had her camera with her to snap a shot at a crucial moment.  Of course she had known she couldn't bring it but still part of her was already writing the story as the other part of her took the time to bend a little lower and reduce her profile in the hopes of not getting shot.  Her weapon in hand she followed the others.

~The stench of evil was so pronounced that it was a wonder that nobody else had smelled it.  One of the signs should have been the wildlife in the area had departed for they sometimes knew better than humans when to vacate an area or when evil was afoot.  Hmm.  I wonder if afoot is one or two words.~

First through the kitchen door was the Count, followed by his men, JM, Cynthia and then Molly. The Perkins brothers and CSM Jones slung their rifles, the CSM drawing a Webley revolver on a lanyard, Tom Perkins drawing a trench knife and George Perkins a sawed-off trench club with spikes driven through the head. George muttered, "those ruddy bastards, them's will get what's coomin'!"

The kitchen door led to a corridor. Two doors marked "WC" were to the right. The far door was closed. Walls were speckled with mildew and the wainscotting was warped, there was a scarred wood floor underfoot.

Now Howard's voice rose to a pitch of anger and fear, sounding clear as the voices subsided for an instant. "God Damn you all! You killed him, I swear! Oh God, so much blood!  Keep away, you soulless devils, you'll pay, all you miserable murdering bastards..." His voice was drowned out by a sudden resumption of chanting in that strange, horrible tongue.

Then Howard began screaming as sounds of an assault became apparent, wordless howls of pain and terror amidst a savage beating.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:00, Thu 17 Jan 2013.

JM prepared his pistol.  "Let's get through the far door, there is not a moment to lose!"  He will move down with the others to the far door.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 74):

Taking the lead, JM went through the door at the end of the hall. He found it difficult to wield both a hand grenade and his pistol, so he tucked the former in a pocket to allow him a free hand.

(Arming the stick grenade was very much a 2-hand job, as the end cap had to be unscrewed, then a ring on the end of a string in the hollow handle pulled out to arm the fuse. Unlike a Mills bomb there was no safety lever, the grenade must be thrown immediately and not held onto.)

CSM Jones cleared the WCs. It wouldn't do to have someone pop out right behind them!

It was a dining room, massive table heaped with filthy dishes, scraps of food, half-filled glasses, empty bottles of liquor and wine. It was dimly lit by a an electric candelabra with many burned-out bulbs.

There was a door leading to a library (empty) filled with untidy stacks of books, both classics and horrific cult tomes both new and worm-eaten.

Updated map:


This message was last edited by the GM at 08:03, Thu 17 Jan 2013.

The Count kept up his Jog straight across the dining room and to the double doors. With his rifle in one hand he opens the door and quickly puts it back to his shoulder as he moves through.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 76):

Molly brought up the rear, trying to keep an eye out in case anybody had plans to sneak up on them.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 77):

Nodding in sympathy, CSM Jones passed Molly and Cynthia. "Good girls, now you may not want to see this work! Cover the rear, right?"

They smelled that some of the food on the table had gone off, more was rotting, writhing with maggots. Flies buzzed around, disturbed by their passage.

George went to clear the library as the Count regained the lead. He was followed by JM, Tom Perkins and CSM Jones. Molly and Cynthia brought up the rear.

Opening the unlocked doors, they saw the room was the great hall. Like the rest of the decor, it was relatively recent but allowed to run down. The only light was from hundreds of candles that were lit and placed randomly around the sides of the room and on furniture (a chaise-lounge, grand piano, etc.)

Across from them about 45-50 feet away, in front of the main fireplace, was gathered Gavigan and fifteen or so of the dark-robed Black Brotherhood. A dozen were Arab-looking or Chinese. The rest were mainly European men but there were some women as well. The Count thought he recognised one as being a respected magistrate, another was a Tory back-bencher.

This group was engaged in holding down and beating a supine Lampton, using their signature clubs (a single spike protruding). The spikes were not used, however, to pierce Howard, they were just using the clubs to beat him mercilessly. The spike was used for the killing blow after the limbs were broken. Howard was not resisting and it was difficult to determine if he were alive or dead. He lay in a circle of occult runes hastily chalked into the polished wood floor of the grand hall.

Near to them lay Phil on his back, arms and legs spread wide. He was in his clothes, but ragged and filthy, a gaping hole in his narrow chest, eyes staring at the ceiling. Just to the left of the fireplace huddled a couple of prisoners, still shackled, it looked like Ai'yesha and Rashid, the Egyptians from the Blue Pyramid that tried to help them and were kidnapped for their troubles. They were guarded by two Chinese cultists. The cultists were all chanting, in time to the beating.

To the right of the door in were the main doors, barred from the inside. To their left was a set of stairs going up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:17, Sun 27 Jan 2013.

Cynthia follows slower behind CSM and the Count. She moves to take up a safe place by the door from the dining room into the chanting room, but can't help peeking ... and once she peeks, she can't help acting. Heart in her throat, Cynthia fires indiscriminately on the crowd with the clubs, squeezing off shots, trying very hard not to look at either of the victims on the ground.

(She is still inside of the dining room.)

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 79):

Molly lets the others go first.  She only has 8 shots in her gun and then she would have to reload and while she could wish for a tommy at times like this, she didn't have one so she would have to be careful.  She looks into the room, staying low and out of Cynthia's way, when Cynthia started to open up fire and tried to stifle a gasp and scream.

She pulled back into the dining room to gather her thoughts for a bit as well as trying to keep from showing everybody what she had eaten for the last two days.  Finally she nodded, more to herself than to anybody else, and said "Go for it Mungo."

Molly took a deep breath and looked for the best target for her bullet as she fired once into the fray.  She had made her priorities for targets, unless the guys shouted to target somebody else, and settled on the people using the clubs first, chanting second, and by then she'd be out of bullets.

Molly shot and then retreated behind the wall again.

The Count his rifle at his shoulder as he entered the Great hall. He moved his sights to centre squarely on the figure of Gavigan before letting off a short burst. He keep firing until Gavigan was hit or unable to be targeted.

The Count was merciless, firing into the crowd once his primary target was down.
This message was last updated by the player at 05:08, Sun 20 Jan 2013.

Considering and then discarding the use of his grenade in the close confines of the room, JM takes a careful firing stance with his pistol and began firing into the crowd around Howard.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 82):

Bathony's men joined in the shooting, firing their rifles (bayonets fixed) at the robed figures as well.

The hall filled with an incredible crash of close-quarters shooting, air suddenly reeking with the sharp scent of gunsmoke. Several of the cultists fell to the shots of the investigators. Gavigan foremost among them, struck several times by Bathony's burst.

It wasn't enough to save Howard. A final vicious blow from the club wielded by the Right Honourable MP struck him in the bruised chest, piercing his heart. He began to flop around as his body expired, blood fountaining from his mouth. The cultist shouted some forbidden chant with ecstatic glee!

There were seven cultists left on their feet, not including the two guarding the last 2 prisoners, who they immediately started to strangle.

Aside from the one who killed Howard, the remaining six charged the firing line at the door! Rashid and Ai'yesha struggled with the brutes choking the life out of them.


Keeper's Note: So 6 cultists are charging you. 1 is finishing off Howard. 2 are strangling the prisoners. If my math is a little off for cultists, just go with it!

The Count watches Gavigan tumble to the floor as he moves the barrel of his rifle and fires on the MP. He continues his barrel movement firing on the two assailants strangling the captives.

Cynthia says some very unladylike words, lost under the repeated blasts of gunfire. Seeing the men run towards her, she reacts, hardly thinking, firing on them.

Molly realizes that her one shot shooting isn't doing anything and switches to the shotgun.  This however still didn't have the desired affect either.  It's a good thing that there are people running towards them because even with a miss on a shotgun, perhaps it would hit one of the other bad people running at them.  If nothing else the shotgun might make a good club.

As Molly shoots she made a mental note to definitely practice more if she was going to have to use weapons more otherwise the headlines might read along the lines of

Mungo's mangled mission causes mayhem!

JM stood in the doorway so that he could somewhat interpose himself in front of the women while still leaving them a clear line of fire.  He continued to fire coolly into the onrushing horde.

The Count's automatic rifle barked and the MP standing over Howard was hit. He collapsed over his victim, club still sticking out of his cracked and bruised chest.

The Perkins brothers and CSM Jones stood to the left of the door in a firing line of sorts, shooting their Lee-Enfield rifles at the guards who were trying to kill the surviving prisoners. Those bullets struck their targets and the Chinamen slumped down. Both Rashid and Ai'Yesha began crawling away from their bodies. They pulled back the bolts on their rifles, empty brass casings flipping out to land with a ping.

Pumping the shotgun's "trombone action", ejecting an empty shell. Cynthia aimed and fired at the closest onrushing figure. Red flecks appeared on her cheek and small holes in the breast of her black robes as the charge of pellets punched into her body. Dropping her club she stumbled and sprawled forward.

Firing one-handed in the approved fashion, John-Marc's Webley revolver cracked and his target also stumbled and fell. Behind him, Molly drew back the hammer of the shotgun's left barrel and pulled the trigger.

That left 4 cultists still rushing headlong at them. CSM Jones and George Perkins lowered their rifles, bayonets fixed to the ends. "Prepare to receive charge!" bellowed the CSM.

GM Note: You can get one last shot in before they are on you. As this will be at point-blank range, skill is effectively doubled.

Cynthia is happy to step a little further behind the line of bayonets. She can't spare the attention to look behind her as she gives ground. She pulls back on the slide, the hot shell ejecting into the crowd of her allies, and slides it forward again, locking the next round in place.

At this range, she's barely aiming. She swings her gun at the next closest target and fires.

JM fires calmly into the onrushing cultists and then pulls his knife out to receive the charge.  He holds his ground to help protect the women behind him.

The Count lowers the muzzle of his rifle and lets off another burst into the oncoming group of cultists. He moves from left to right as he holds down the trigger hoping to take as many as possible before they are on them.

Unnerved at the mind-boggling prospect of screaming assassins apparently unafraid of death, Molly knew her shot went wild. Cynthia had it even worse, there was a "click" as the next shell refused to fire!

Holding the bucking weapon, Bathony held down the trigger and swung his automatic rifle from left to right (empty shells spitting out the side) while JM pulled his Webley's trigger. Beside them the Perkins brothers and CSM Jones got in a last volley as the cultists closed. The large room was filled with the sharp smell of gunsmoke, muzzle flashes and overwhelming crash of gunfire.

When it was done, the cultists were all lying sprawled in front of them where they fell. It was almost quiet except those who'd been in battle knew it was more a product of partial deafness after the incredible din. A couple shells casings pinged to the tile floor as the men armed with rifles worked the bolts on their weapons.

Most of the black-robed figures were still. Two were still moving, dying or badly wounded, not yet dead. Other smells became apparent, mainly from the blood that had been spilled.

Cynthia pauses for the moment, letting the shock of battle subside, then snaps back to action. She hurries to Howard's side, kneeling down and placing her shotgun on the ground, checking him for any signs of life, or any hope of saving him.

The Count made a grab for Miss Holloway's arms as she ran past but missed. As he slung his rifle and with drew one of the pair of revolvers he yelled

"Wait"

as he hurry after her revolver pointed at any of the cultists who may make an attack on them.

He said a silent prayer for both men as he moved to Gavigan's body. Making sure he was dead he riffled through the man's pockets.

As he lay in Cynthia's arms, Howard's eyes were glazed over, staring upwards. Unseeing. His chest was still pierced by a club with a single, wicked spike. Not surprisingly, there was no rise and fall of breath, nor did her compact mirror fog up with a trace of breath. There was no pulse of life in his veins.

The Count discovered Gavigan he was wearing conventional clothing under his black robes. As he started to search, he discovered the man was not, in fact, quite dead. He opened one eye and focused the dilated pupil on Bathony. Smiling, blood leaking down from the corner of his mouth, he whispered with a kind of Satanic glee, "see? We... they... They... have come. Don't... you hear... them?" With that he sighed, breath rattling in his throat.

Outside the front door, where they left a couple of Darlington's men to keep watch, there was a shout of terror! "Oh my God! NOOOoooooo!"

The Count was a bout to slap some more information from the vile man when he inconveniently expired. At the yell from the sentries the Count added his own call:

"To me, to me, form ranks and close the door."

He changed the magazine in his rifle and tried to find some cover for the group.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 96):

While Cynthia and The Count were busy, the Perkins brothers ran over to the hostages and freed them.

As Bathony heard Gavigan's parting words, CSM Jones came up beside him and asked,

"Do you want us to bayonet these other louts? Make sure they're all dead?"




"Good lord, sir! The shouts are coming from outside, we should let those poor devils in! Or else they'll get slaughtered!"

"Of course Colour Sergeant. Lets get them in and barricade the door"

He moved back to the door and tried to spy the constables.

The Perkins brothers began bayoneting all the bodies, without mercy. If they weren't dead before they were now! (Tom had exchanged his Lee-Enfield sniper rifle with CSM Jones' stock Lee-Enfied as the sniper rifle lacked bayonet lugs.)

Bathony moved up to the front door, CSM Jones in support, the latter with Webly in hand.

Opening the spy-hole, he could see nothing and no one outside.

Keeper's Note: Going to hold this action here, let others have a chance to react.

JM stood silent for a moment as the smoke cleared and the cultists lay dead or dying on the floor.  He had a good deal of experience in the War but little of it was so up close and personal.  After his moment he went forward and check Gavigan with the Count.  He shuddered at the man's words, feeling that there was a wicked truth to them.  As the Count moved to the front door, JM riffled through the corpse's pockets to see what might be found as far as clues.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 100):

Molly just stared at the carnage, holding her weapon in her hand.  Her mouth was open and she was breathing hard but for some reason she couldn't seem to move.  She knew she wasn't hurt but seeing all of that carnage and then watching the men go through the corpses pockets...

Molly turned to the side and threw up.  There wasn't any way to stop it really and she certainly wasn't going to help walk in with all that gore and blood.  Mungo might have handled it but now that the main action was over with Mungo had retreated and it was poor Molly who stood there wondering what in the heck she had gotten herself into.

After not spotting the constables through the spy-hole he was loath to call out for them in fear of giving their position away to the Cult reinforcements he was sure where probably just outside.

He closed the spy hole and suggested reinforcing the interior door and taking the table cloths off the dinning table in the other room to cover the bodies of their friends.

There was a moment of ominous quiet. Inside the grand ballroom, they quickly began to barricade the front door. There was also a stairwell up which wasn't explored.

Overlooked in the confusion and melee, Rashid and Ai'Yesha seemed to be fine, starved but alive.

CSM Jones seemed to be a little concerned they had done nothing to assist those outside. "Have ye gone daft? Why don't we open the door? Or look out a window? What the deuce do you think is out there?

"If no one has the stomach to help those poor devils, I'll go myself. I'm opening the door!" Grabbing a rifle, he pulled back the bolt to the front door and opened it, disappearing outside.

JM called out to CSM before he could open the door.  "Wait, let's be more careful about this than charging about.  Some of you check upstairs.  Molly, can you see to Rashid and Ai'Yesha?  Make sure they are ok and see about arming them."

"Jones, wait!  Let's look about before charging out the door."  He'll head to the door and cautiously open it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:29, Tue 12 Feb 2013.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 104):

At the door, CSM Jones stopped and waited for JM to look outside.

"Those men are in trouble now! What the devil do you suppose is so threatening out there? A tribe of bloody Pathans waving their scimitars? A fire-breathing dragon? If they're men, we'll shoot them down like dogs! Fine, do get a ruddy move on, then. Sir."

He hefted his pistol and trench club, looking impatient.

Meanwhile, the Perkins brothers looked at each other and JM. George replied, "by "Some of you check upstairs"? You mean us, yes? Or Cynthia and the Count?"

While the men are arguing, Cynthia works to repose her lost friends, and cover them respectfully. If time permits, she unjams her shotgun and reloads it.

Sean shook his head and motioned to the Perkins brothers.  "Take miss Holloway with you and check up stairs."  With that settled he looked to the Count.  "Let's see what we have out here, at least in the immediate vicinity.  I don't want to split us up too badly if things go to hell."  With that he looked carefully outside for their companions.

Molly, for she hadn't turned into Mungo yet, stared at John-Marc for a minute before nodding.  She closed her eyes and when she opened them she was, once again Mungo.  It was a little thing that she had learned to do when she had to track down a story that was a bit unsavory.  She currently couldn't think of anything that would be more unsavory than where she was.

"You heard him men.  Let's go and see what's upstairs shall we?  I'll do the looking and you blokes can do the protecting.  If I have to fire the shotgun, please make sure that you're behind me.  Today hasn't been a stellar day for results with it.  How about one in front and one behind until we run into something?"

Of course Mungo didn't wait for the men to agree but just started up the stairs before Molly could object.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 107):

"Agreed, hopefully the light from the house will illuminate the area, but no wondering into the dark. Lets see if we can find where they were standing ?"

"Colour Sergeant cover fire from the door if the balloon goes up. Oh and Mr Perkins if you and your brother could take a position by one of the windows in the upper level when it is clear it would be much appreciated."

With that he steps over the threshold and into the unknown. He only moves a few feet from the door and tries to see if he can workout where the constables were standing.

Cynthia takes her time to make peace with her two lost friends before standing, grabbing her shotgun and cycling it, to clear the jam.

"Why are we going upstairs? What further business do we have here? Fire the flare and let's be to safety."

(She does follow as she talks though, otherwise she'll be left with no one to nag.)

The two victims were gruesome to look at. Phil's eyes were closed, face contorted. Howards eyes were open and staring at nothing, his mouth open in an expression of the deepest existential horror. Once done with paying her respects, Cynthia racked the shotgun and the jammed round ejected easily. She reloaded as she followed Mungo, as well as the Perkins brothers upstairs.

At the front door, JM and Bathony stepped outside. CSM Jones covered from the doorway. There was a fair amount of light from the electric lamps, plus they had their battery-powered hand torches. They could see nothing in the immediate area, the two men they'd left there were just... gone. No bodies, no blood. JM saw something in the light of his torch as he played the beam around. There, a glint! It was one of the Lee-Enfields the detectives had possessed, dropped in the weedy gravel of the driveway.

Molly, then the Perkins brothers, followed by Cynthia stood at the top of the stairs, looking left and right.The stairs led into an upper foyer in the middle of a long corridor running the length of the mansion.  The corridor seemed empty, with several doors opening off either sides and ends.

The Perkins brothers decided they had no time or need for a detailed search so they just chose a couple doors on the south side of the corridor, overlooking the front. "Okay, I'll check that door there, you get the one beside, then we cover out the windows facing the front!"

The Perkins brothers went ahead and opened their 2 randomly-chosen doors. It turned out these doors led to empty bedrooms filled with trash and dirty clothing. They opened the windows and threw open the shutters so they could cover JM and Bathony.

Outside, JM and Bathony heard (and saw) the Perkins brothers opening the window shutters, rifle barrels poking out.

Hopefully with the two men covering him the Count moved towards the rifle in the grass. He had his own weapon hard into his shoulder, he was aware that his breathing sounded loud to his own ears.

"Mr Falcon, if you would not mind."

He couched once he was in arms reach of the discarded weapon making himself less of a target for sniper fire as he retrieved it.

Mungo saw the garbage in the "empty" rooms but knew from past experience that you can also learn stuff from garbage.  While the men stood guard, Mungo carefully looked through the garbage and around the room to see if they could find any more clues.  If she didn't find any, she'd then tell the guys that she was moving to another room to look at things.

JM felt better knowing that the men above were covering them.  He glanced about seeing the discarded rifle and then frowning.  "I have you covered Count."

A quick count of the upstairs doors by Cynthia revealed about 6 doors on the north side (including an obvious W/C), 1 on each end of the corridor, plus 9 on the south side (with a second W/C). Keeper's Note: Molly can make a Spot Hidden roll.

After picking up the rifle, Bathony carefully looked but didn't see anything in the darkness. Neither did JM. It seemed quiet outside. Keeper's Note: the Count can make a Listen and Spot Hidden Roll, JM can make a Listen check.

Looking around, Bathony couldn't see anyone outside, neither friend nor foe.

However, he thought he saw something up on edge of the peaked roof. That area was shrouded in shadow because of the placement of the outside electric lights.

Standing in the doorway, JM thought he could hear an outboard motor from one of their launches, out on the river, but was unsure. More frighteningly, he could hear some kind of scraping coming from up above him. Something very large.

Inside and upstairs, Cynthia and Molly could also hear the roof creaking a little. And some muffled scratching. In one of the rooms occupied by the Perkins brothers, Molly found a packet of sketches (along with sketchbooks, drawing implements, easel, etc.) tossed in a pile in the corner. There were sketches of the mansion, the obelisk, circles of cultists engaged in foul sexual rituals... and what looked to be a dragon of some kind?

JM steps back into the doorway.  "There is something big up on the roof, watch out everyone."

The Count felt exposed especially in his current position with a potential enemy on the roof and between the door and relative safety. With no sign of the constables he indicated to Mr Falcon to move back to the door and he followed close by with his rifle pointed at the roof as he moved.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 118):

Pointing his rifle meant he had no hand free to point a light source, like, say, his torch.

Moving closer to the door, he saw what appeared to be something pale sticking out over the eve... a human hand? Whatever it was, it was pulled back out of sight.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 116):

Molly looked over the sketches and took whatever she could with her.  She had done her prioritizing in her mind as she looked over them, namely the dragon, the obelisk, the circles of cultists and then the mansion.  She stopped to look in more detail at the mansion to see if it could give any more clues to hidden passages but was distracted by the hearing of some noises on the roof.

Molly walked over to Cynthia and spoke softly.  "Did you hear that?  I think it's time that we got out of here."

JM stepped back inside the doorway, his pistol ready.  "There is something on the roof for sure, something big.  Did you find the constables outside Count?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 121):

The Count lowers his voice so that only Mr Falcon and CSM Jones can hear.

"I believe that whatever is on the roof is currently eating one of the poor bastards. I think we need to talk to the prisoners see if they know anything more about this place.

"Sergeant Jones could you guard the door and lets keep it locked."

He then moves over to the ex prisoners and asks:

"Gentlemen I was wondering if you could enlighten us on your time in captivity with this vile cult, where did they keep you and how did you arrive here ?"

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 122):

After Bathony made it safely inside, CSM closed and barred the door, post-haste. "Yes sir! Door secured."

The two freed prisoners looked up at Bathony, a little shell-shocked after their ordeal. Rashid finally spoke.

"Praise Allah, I knew you would save us! A thousand blessings upon you! We were kept in cells in a basement. The entrance is somewhere in the fireplace, on the right side, I think. We were taken here by van, then taken down via the stairwell. Many thanks, again."

The Count watched the men as they relayed their story.

"We are not out of the woods yet as the English say."

He handed one of the men the rifle he recovered.

"Though your salvation is now in your own hands. Stay close to the Sergeant I believe there is some kind of wild animal loose in the grounds."

He relayed the same warning up the stairs and added to stand away from the windows. The Count then followed Mr Falcon to examine the fireplace the prisoners had indicated. As they moved he asked Mr Falcon:

"Could it be some sort of tiger or lion I believe they climb to eat their prey?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:43, Tue 19 Feb 2013.

Upstairs, Molly was unable to detect any passages. The pencilled images were amateur in nature and blurry, clearly the work of a deranged mind.

The dragon seemed to be the typical cartoon sort one might see an armoured "Sir Galahad" poking with a lance or sword.

CSM Jones retrieved his own rifle, and JM was already armed, so Rashid took the offered weapon and held it with some conviction. "Thank you, may Allah bless you." CSM Jones and Rashid had no comment about what might possibly be on the roof but looked uneasily upwards, as if they could see through the ceiling, 1st floor and roof!

Cynthia leans in to Molly, "yes, I think that's a good idea. I don't expect we'll find anything but trouble up here. I wouldn't balk at filling the house with lantern oil and pitching a match on the way out. I'll tell the boys up here. You go ahead downstairs to alert the rest of the noise."

JM went immediately to the fire place to look for the entrance to the basement. While he was a bit separate from the others, he spoke quietly to the Count.  "It could be a lion or tiger but it couldn't leap up on top of the building with a carrying a full man.  I think we may be dealing with something obscene."

As they continued to look he turned to the former captives.  "Rashid, do you know how the mechanism works to get downstairs?"

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 126)

Molly nodded at Cynthia and tried to be quiet as she snuck back down to tell the guys what they heard.  She kept her prizes with her.

The Count merely nodded as Mr Falcon voiced his suspicion. He agreed that whatever out there was of an other worldly persuasion he just did not let on. His introduction of the wild animal was more to try and normalise their predicament in his own mind.

He ran his hand over the fireplace where the prisoners had suggested then he stopped and held out his hand trying to feel for a breeze.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:48, Sun 24 Feb 2013.

Mungo went searching for the guys and finally found the Count and John-Marc.  She walked up to them, even knowing that they were discussing something (like that stopped Mungo?) and grinned even though her eyes looked worried.  "There's something on the roof.  Cynthia sent me down here.  She's still upstairs with our two guys.  Don't expect Cynthia to stay there to long though.  She'd make a good reporter."

Mungo then held out her prizes.  "Found some stuff but don't have time to thoroughly look at it.  Figured I could take it with us and look at it back at your place Count.  Are we about ready to get out of here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Sat 23 Feb 2013.

Cynthia hurries down the hall into the rooms, visiting each man in turn and whispering, "There is something on the roof above us. We plan to retreat, downstairs and then from the house."

"It that was the case would it not be prudent to remain in the relative safely of the house. I think what ever it is has taken both the constables stationed outside and managed to return to the roof to eat them."

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 132):

Mungo gulped but nodded.  "On the other hand wouldn't now be a good time to go?  IF it is eating the others then perhaps it is distracted enough so that we could get away.  I can't imagine that this house will deter it for long if it wants to come inside."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 127):

Trying to get his bearings, Rashid replied, "ah, there is a door where the Count is searching on the left. I'm not sure how it's opened?"

Above them the beams creaked. A couple slate roof tiles were dislodged by... something, and clattered to the ground outside.

OOC: Make both an Idea and Spot Hidden roll.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:11, Sun 24 Feb 2013.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 134):

Mungo's head whipped around at the words "closed door".  TO a reporter, or snoopy female, closed doors were really an invitation.  They just had given the help the day off so Mungo thought it was only right that she go over to see if she could figure out how to open up the door.

"Oh.  Let me see.  I've been told that I have a way with doors."  Before she set to work she stopped and looked at the two.  "Since you haven't busted it down, I am to assume that you want the door left in one piece?"

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 135):

Checking the fireplace along with the Count, Molly found there were two hidden doors, one to each side! She pulled one fireplace stone forward on the left side, there was a click and a narrow crack revealed the outline of a door in the side brickwork. Surprisingly, there was another door like it on the right side. Molly remembered that some manors like this built in the era of Cromwell had secret chambers and tunnels built in. Some for escape and others, "Priest holes", to shelter clergy during times of religious persecution.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 136):

Molly pulled out the map of the house to see if it included any of the priests hole or hidden passageways.  Either way she knew that Mungo would go through it.

"Well lookie here.  You just never know what you might find in these old houses.  You have these things in your house also Count?"

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 137):

With Molly's help, Bathony finally got both doors open. Both opened into cramped passageways down. The left side was a little bigger and seemed newer in construction, and there was an electric light on somewhere below. The right side was dark and much more narrow.
This message was last updated by the GM at 21:29, Sun 24 Feb 2013.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 138):

Molly nodded to the Count.  "Thank you sir.  Couldn't have done it without your help."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:52, Sun 24 Feb 2013.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 139):

The Count turned to Molly:

"No, my house is relativity new compared to this Manor. Left looks to be the most used should we proceeded ?"

He retrieved one of his revolvers from his pocket and moved down the tunnel.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Mon 25 Feb 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 140):

Molly turned to the others and motioned for them to follow.  Then she shut down that part of her brain that told her it was bad to follow and let Mungo come out.

"Oh course Count.  I'll just follow you. "

JM stepped back and allowed the agile and clever Molly to search for the door.  Even in the danger they faced some part of him admired her lithe form.  He smiled and gave her a small bow as she found two secret doors.

"With whatever we have on the roof I think a secret passage out of the house would be a timely find.  This thing could easily snatch us as we flee back to the boats or even break into the house and take us like little tidbits."  He peered into the two holes.  "The one on the left definitely looks more promising.  If we do use this as an escape route we need to signal to Singh and the others that we are escaping using the flares."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 142):

As the Count moved off down the left tunnel he stopped and turning to Mr Falcon;

"Agreed, but this would be the likely location of the holding cells for any more unfortunates and I can't in good conscience leave any prisoners behind."

He then continued on hopefully with Miss Fuller and Mr Falcon covering him.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Mon 25 Feb 2013.

JM nodded.  "It wouldn't be sporting to flee without trying to save as many of the poor victims as possible."  Before following the Count downstairs he reloaded his pistol and turned to Rashid.  "Are there cells down below Rashid?  Are there other prisoners or guards to be expected?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 144):

Following the gentlemen was the wisest thing to do but then Mungo wasn't known for being wise all the time.  This time however she did keep inbetween them.  They had proven they could handle guns and while she might be able to "handle" them, she had proved she certainly couldn't shoot one reliably and she didn't want to injure her own party.  With a "carry on then" to John-Marc and the Count, Mungo followed.

Having alerted the two men upstairs, Cynthia will wait for a reply, then head downstairs (whether they're in tow or not). She wanders into the sacrifice room, now empty.

"Hello?"

"Huh? Yes! There are prisoners down there. But no guards."

They headed down the left-hand stairs, finding an unlocked iron door (padlock hanging from the outside but unsecured). Inside was a chamber and narrow hallway with several brick and stone cells with iron bars opening to either side. These were complete with large iron rings and shackles. Inside were 3 prisoners, 2 old men that looked like derelicts and a young woman (perhaps a lady of the evening).

The area was lit by a single electric bulb, which left copious shadows.

Cynthia heard the Perkins brothers come down behind her. Over by the fireplace she spied Rashid and Ai'yesha. In the massive fireplace itself were two small, formerly hidden, doors. Behind these concealed doors, twin stairs led downwards.

As fast as he was able the Count searched the rest of the lower level before releasing the prisoners if it has not already been done. He keeps his revolver pointing forward as he searches the shadows.

JM looked around carefully, keeping watch while the Count worked to rescue the three prisoners. "Hold still now, we've come to get you lot out of here."

Cynthia will go to Rashid and Ai'yesha. "You two will want to be heading to safety. There's something out there, so you may want to stay close and we can all leave together, unless you know a safe way out. Which way did the others go?"

Upstairs, Rashid answered, "your friends are downstairs. They took the left stairs, the ones behind that door hidden in the fireplace, there. I don't know of a safe way out. There's no escape tunnel or anything, as Allah is my witness!"

Indeed, there were 2 doors hidden there, both now open, leading down on the left and right.

Bathony and Mungo searched the underground chamber by the light of their torches and the single dangling electric bulb. Three things were clear: there was no exit other than the stairs, this was a separate chamber from wherever the right-hand stairs led, and one of the ways the prisoners were kept docile is be feeding them alcohol, as evidenced by an some empty bottles of cheap gin and a full one, outside the cells.

Using the keys they took from Gavigan's corpse, JM freed the sour-smelling wretches. One elderly sot with a thick florid face and enormous white sideburns slurred, "oi, thanksh thar, mayte! Oi'm juss' goin' ter find me way out, mush obliged... Naow, wheresh th' blooody door then, ey?" The other 2 (a thin man and slatternly middle-aged woman) were quiet, not understanding what was going on but relatively docile.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 151):

Molly went over to the woman and held out her hand.  "Come on now.  This is what we call a rescue.  You don't want to stay here do you?  Let's get you out."

The Count gave the dark and dank cells one last pass with his torch before ascending with the rest of the group.

JM kept watch on things, took the bottle of gin and then headed upstairs with the others.  "I'd guess that the other passage leads to a secret way out.  We may want to fire our flare saying we are retreating and then heading out through that exit. It might avoid whatever is on the roof.  Then we can burn the place down."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 154):

The Count replied to Mr Falcon as they climbed the stairs:

"Yes lets check the second tunnel, but I think burning the house mite be a tad extreme we would need to confirm the tunnel has a exit first. I would surmise the Inspector would want to investigate the house more fully for evidence and suspects. Also we do not know where the good Mr Singh has got to yet."

He thought for a minute before adding;

"Could we not occupy the residence until morning and make a decision then once we have regrouped ?"

Before he checked the second tunnel he riffled through the Member of Parliament's pockets.

Cynthia is waiting by the doors as the remainder of the party regroups. "Good evening, gentlemen. I believe it's time to be off? Unless you think the house sufficiently fortified to permit a proper search ... but I don't know that I'd bet on it."

JM listened to both the Count and Cynthia.  "I'd rather not spend a moment longer in this house than necessary.  We should both trace the course of this escape tunnel as well as find Mr. Singh.  With the lack of noise outside I fear for his safety."

There was nothing else to find in the MP's pockets, other than a watch on a chain, a billfold, handkerchief...

The other stairwell led down to a larger room than the cells. Molly recognised this as an older room than downstairs, a "Priest Hole". This must have been a torture chamber as well, due to the implements (table with manacles, boot, rack, tongs, pincers, knives, unlit braziers, etc.) that were present.

There was also a wide range of occult materials, from statues and pictures to books and scrolls. There was a desk, perhaps Gavigan's, down there under an electric reading lamp. On the desk were letters, books and a ledger.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 158):

Molly went over to the desk since a lot of good things were usually found at desks and picked up the ledger.  What kind of ledger would such a scumbag have?  Hmmm.  Perhaps a clue or two could be found in it.  She shall see.

Yes, any thoughts Cynthia had of a quick escape are popped when she sees Gavigan's personal affairs, just left out for borrowing. She follows Molly and begins picking up whatever papers and books seem valuable. She pauses for a moment, at a loss for sufficient pockets, and will look for a sack or briefcase.

The effect of the room; once a haven for men of God, now a den of torture, is one Cynthia tries aggressively to shut out, keeping herself busy in shuffling through papers rather than looking too much anywhere else.

JM looks about the downstairs room with distaste.  Seeing the women working to recover the papers and things of interest he looks about the room for a further exit.

The Count gravitated to the books and scrolls, but also cast an eye over the other collected occult materials. He tried to categorise them in his head as he made a mental inventory.

CSM Jones and the Perkins brothers remained upstairs with Ai'Yesha and Rashid.

Things were somewhat rushed downstairs, but for one it was clear there was no secret exit. This was just another chamber, albeit one bigger than the cells.

A great mass of occult statuary, etches and paintings were piled about the room, along with occult adornments, robes, more sceptres and clubs. The statues seemed to be of a pharaoh figure in black stone or metal. The sheer amount of material is dismaying. (Everyone please make a SAN check. Pass means 0 SAN loss, fail means 1D3 SAN lost.)

On the desk was an unfinished letter that Cynthia found very interesting. It was written in what she recognised as Gavigan's own hand, using black ink on fine cream-coloured linen stationary. It was dated the day previous.


Dear Aubrey,

Elias has been dealt with in New York. You must
take this opportunity to silence Brady.
It is stupefying he has evaded us for so long!
This man has become an obstacle to
our Great Lord. If you wish, I will


And there it ended.

There was a ledger. Flipping through the pages Molly saw it contained neatly hand-written entries for shipsment to mainly "Ho Fong" in Shanghai, several to Randolph Shipping in Darwin, Australia. Others were to Cairo, Rio de Janeiro, Calcutta, Rangoon, Odessa, New York, Los Angeles, etc. A typical ledger entry from the latter part of the book:

4/9/24 - Invoice #32121 - 2ft. statuette of Yig. Solid Gold. Ho Fong Imports, Shanghai

There were perhaps close to a hundred of what Bathony recognised as rare occult books in various languages, and dozens of scrolls.

Additionally, there were racks beside a work table that looked like ingredients to some wizard's or alchemist's workshop: small wood boxes, glass jars and stoppered vials, cloth bags, sacks, tins, and leather pouches. A smaller wood rack contained a dozen strange metal vials sealed with wax.

Growing in several pots under a sickly electric lamp were several sickly diseased-looking plants, spiny and unpleasant-looking. In fact, they seemed to writhe slowly in the corner of one's eye but when looked at directly were found to not be moving at all...

Finally, there were some of the items stolen from the hotel room. The missing firearms, of course, but as well there were your occult tomes and scrolls. The jars of powder and black metal sceptres were present. Oddly, the mirror from Tewfik's shop (where the jars/scepters were taken) was also there. It was set up on the wall. An unusual occult-seeming pattern was drawn on the floor in chalk.

Cynthia keeps gathering her documents, trying to ignore the feeling of being watch. Once she's done, she breaks up the magical circle with her boot and kicks over the plants, stomping them into a smear. She'd break the mirror too, if it were glass.

JM shudders at the sight of the occult and disturbing objects especially the plants for some reason.  He did not object as Cynthia destroyed the nasty things as well as marked out the circle.  "Well done Miss Holloway, those plants were particularly disturbing for some reason."  He glances down at the letter;  "What do you have there?"  Then to the larger group.  "Now much of this do we take with us and how much to destroy?  We probably should have Miss Mungo come down and record it on film for later use in any event.  Personally I say destroy the lot of it."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 165):

The Count thought for a minute before adding:

"The books and scrolls are not cult related they seem to just be part of a research collection, I would take what had been stolen from the hotel room as well. The mirror and scepters as these seemed to have a strong connection to the cult and to Gavigan. The rest the inspector may need for evidence I would suppose. It would seem we have found and hopefully destroyed the base of operations for the cult in this country."

The Count then began to selected the rarest or unique books beginning with the manuscripts, scrolls and books in that order.

JM nodded, leaving the Count to his work for now.  He headed up the stairs and leaned out.  "Molly, we've found the treasure trove of books and cult items.  Can you bring your camera down and get pictures?"

The plants made a satisfying crunching sound under Cynthia's boot.

Bathony recognised the occult tomes they'd taken from Gavigan:

Africa's Dark Sects, (English)
G'Harne Fragnents, (English)
Book of Dyzan (English)
Liber Ivonis (Latin)

Alongside were the scrolls that were taken as well.

Additionally, there were several tomes taken from New York:

Selections De Livre D'Ivon (French)
People of the Monolith (English)
Life as a God (English)

There were other books on the occult, some rare, maybe a few at most that would fetch a good price.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 167):

Molly chuckled at John-Marc's camera.  "Upstairs Downstairs all around stairs.  Yes yes.  I'll be right there.  You do realize Mr. Falcon that you are interrupting my chance to read this journal that I took?  I will decide later if I should thank you or not."

Molly went over to John-Marc and quickly took a picture of him (without warning) and set out to finish documenting the rest of what they found.  She pushed back the little bits of sanity that Molly seemed to prefer and tried to bring out more Mungo for such ghastly work but even Mungo had her limits and she shivered at what was around.

JM smiled at Molly's antics.  "It is unfortunate to expose you and Miss Holloway to such terrible things Miss Fuller.  Would that this is the end of these horrible events."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 170):

"Thank you John-Marc.  As terrible as this is, it does remind me of something.  Hmm.  now what was taht.  Oh Yes, It's how my eyelids look like after an all night party."

Molly winked at John-Marc and went back to taking pictures so that they wouldn't see that her eyes were still haunted by the images she had seen.

Once he had made several small piles the Count produced one of his book bags and put all the stolen tomes and ten or so others he had collected as well as all the scrolls. He also put the mirror, sceptres and powders in the bag also.

Removing his note book from a pouch he makes a few notes and drawings from memory of the magical pattern that was before the mirror. The others would collect their own weapons before they departed so he left them there.

He then went back to the black statute and studied it, if there were hieroglyphics he would take a rubbing.

JM gave Molly a quick squeeze on the shoulder in encouragement. "You are a plucky, courageous woman Miss Fuller.  We are lucky to have you with us."  As she went about her work he continued to examine the room and it's contents, helping the Count catalog and collect items.

"Quite a treasure trove of the outre and bizarre Count.  Do you see any clues as to what exactly they were up to here?"

The Count continued to work as he spoke to Mr Falcon:

"I have never come across a semi-open cult operating as this one has. The ledger seams to point to Egypt and the Far East as additional locations for cults or some other nefarious business. I just hope we have smashed this one completely for our own sake."

"If you could give me a hand to move the weapons up we should nearly be ready. I hope the Inspector may give us access to this evidence once it is removed."

There were no hieroglyphs on the statue of the black Pharaoh, but several of the pieces of jewellery (inverted ankhs, others with some kind of mystical sigil) were similar to those worn by the cultists upstairs. They could be worth something, or at least valuable for research or identification purposes, so JM collected some of those and documented them as best he could.

Otherwise, there was the sound of clicks from Molly's camera, although it was uncertain how well they would turn out given the poor lighting. Cynthia gathered various papers and books, not knowing at the moment which would be most valuable. The unfinished letter seemed timely and important.

CSM Jones poked his head down, and visibly shuddered at the various gruesome implements. "Ah, sorry to bother you, but somethin's 'appening on the roof. Wotever's up there sounds like they're starting to take the bloody roof apart!"

"I think it's best we move and return with the daylight. We have the front door, which will take us past Singh, and whatever men he hasn't eliminated yet, and back to the boats, and the back door towards the river, yes?"

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 176):

The back door led to the closest riverbank. As well, that was closer to where Singh went. The front door led towards the obelisk and their landing site. As far as they knew, the boats were tied up there.

JM considered what they had found and assisted the Count with the weapons and the choice bits of information.  "We'd best keep or copy the ledger and the letter there.  I know the police will want it but we need to ensure that we have it for our own researches." He glanced up toward the rest of the building.  "If that thing is coming through the roof then we should go out the back and find Mr. Singh and then make for our boats as planned.  We'll just need to be prepared for an attack."

"I am quite loath to suggest it, but we could bait it off the roof and have the rest of out complement stationed in the second story again to aid their firing. It puts us in a lot of danger but I think it maybe better then everyone being exposed with the chance of fear taking over peoples actions."

"Not to mention, that forward team may be able to secure the boats and bring them around closer to the house."

Crashing and cracking sounds came from upstairs. Someone or something was breaking windows and ripping up the slate roof tiles.

Molly looked up as she heard all the noise and then over at the group.  "Perhaps it would behoove us to move.  I'm not sure this place will be structurally sound for long.  Make up your mind people before that "thing" on top of us makes up our mind for us."

Molly starts to tap her foot.  She wants to move away, she really doesn't want to do it by herself.

JM frowned.  "If it is some kind of dragon, a real dragon that these scum have summoned up from where ever such things lurk then it might fly as well.  We can't stay here though as that thing will be inside with us soon.  If it's busy tearing through the roof we might be able to get quite a ways away from it before it notices.  Then if we are all armed with rifles and stand firm we may be able to fend it off."  He shook his head.  "If only I could get to my aircraft then I could really engage the creature."

With time running out the Count made another suggestion;

"Could we not use some of the cults bodies as bait and fire on the "dragon" from the house. I think it would be suicide to move while it is alive and airborne."

"Or if we could make it to the truck, we may be able to outrun it."

JM regards the Count for a moment and then claps the man on the back.  "Good idea, good idea.  Let's make the bloody bastards serve in death at least."

With Mr Falcon confirming his agreement with the plan and no one else seeming to object the Count readied two bodies near the door for the drag out onto the driveway.

His intention to get the bodies out while the others cover him and Mr Falcon from the lower level. He would fire his revolver on the return trip back to the door to hopefully gain the creatures attention.

Mark moved to help carry the two bodies to the door.  "I'll cover you Count while you distract the thing.  Then we try to shoot at it if it takes the bait."

"Agreed, to the abhorrent task then."

He gave a look down the row of shooters, nearly one at each window. Before doffing his hat and grabbing the body under the arms to drag it into the courtyard. He dragged it into the light they had created, but not beyond. Before un-slinging his rifle and firing towards the area he had seen the hand earlier.

The Count then retreated into the door way and taking up a crouching position using the frame and wall for cover.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 189):

Even Mungo had her moments of weakness and seeing people willing offering up the dead to whatever was out there was just....creepy.  She shivered and looked around at something else so she wouldn't have to think on it.  She wasn't sure exactly why it bothered her since they were dead, but it did.

JM nodded to the Count and assisted with one of the bodies, positioning it near the other and falling back to cover the open area.

Cynthia will busy herself with anything ... not in this room and not with the corpses. While the men are hauling bodies, she'll check over the survivors for signs of injury, explain the plan to them and that they must prepare to run, and then find a nice place to shoot at beasties raining down from the roof.

CSM Jones and the Perkins brothers headed upstairs, looking a little nervously up at the ceiling as they went. It had seemed to solid before, but maybe the tough construction had actually saved them until now. The escaped prisoners elected to wait in the ground floor main ballroom. There, they could retreat below if all else failed. They would be alive down there, if perhaps trapped.

Using the dead seemed distasteful at best, horrific at worst. But they were coming to understand they were dealing with unholy things far outside the human ken. There was a certain symmetry there, the cultists had summoned something indescribably horrific in order to feed to it the bodies of the innocent, now they were the food. The rest of the corpses gave no assent or condemnation, the dead were beyond judgement. Blood pooled on the scarred hardwood floor and their stench filled the room.

Bathony dragged the corpses out into lighted area, then fired his rifle to gain the attention of whatever it was on the roof. It didn't take long!

Something landed with a flutter of immense leathery wings on the corpse below. It could be a dragon out of myth or legend... if so, it was an indescribably foul looking and noisome creature, larger than an elephant! A head larger than a horse's displayed a mouth full of cruel teeth and proceeded to feed, ripping at a body while holding it down with a raptor's leg.

Keeper's Note: SAN checks for everyone looking!

There are times when Molly distinctly disliked herself.  This was one of those times.  She kept thinking to herself "I'm not going to look...I'm not going to look...I'm not going to look."  Then what does she do?  She listens to that voice inside her head, not the horrific one but the investigative one, and looked.  She always had been told that Mungo would be the death of her sometime and Molly wondered if that time was now.  Yet.....

Part of Mungo wanted to scream but knew she shouldn't.  Here was a living legend.  A dragon?  Did they really eat their food like the pictures of old said?  She didn't think they really exited until now.  Here.  Right before her own eyes.  She wanted to take a picture.  Should she take picture?  Yes.  She shouldn't but she had to.  To scream or to shoot with the camera.  The camera won out.  It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.  The camera was right there and before she knew it, Mungo had snapped a picture off.  It was so nice that the Count had fired at it so that it was looking right at the camera too.  Talk about the perfect time to snap the picture.

Cynthia jumps when the creature slams into the corpse. Everything seems so sudden, her brain simply refuses to process, beyond 'there it is, next step is to shoot it'. And so without further thought, she begins firing.

Cynthia is on the ground floor, where-ever the other surviving victims are (probably the Dining Hall), firing through the window bars.

JM is as prepared for the sight of the horrific creature as one might be.  Perhaps his time in the Near East has opened his mind a bit or perhaps the events of the night have merely dulled his sensibilities to the outre.  Regardless he managed to contain his fear and loathing of the creature.  Lining up his powerful Webley he fires and strikes the creature.  He calls out; "Talley ho!"


22:02, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 52 using 1d100. Shoot - 55% to hit.
22:02, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 49 using 1d100. Sanity.

OOC: Not sure of the damage for the pistol.

As the beast landed and began devouring the corpse the sight became to much for the Count. He momentary froze with a startled look upon his face, a word from Mr Perkins at his side and he again acted.

He raised the rifle to his shoulder and with a pained expression on his face he let loose a long burst of fire followed by a second.

The creature's foul repast was rudely interrupted by a fusillade of shots! The great hall was filled with the deafening crash of gunfire, so loud it drowned out the sound of shouting, although not the monster's shrill cry.  Many of the bullets hit, although most seemed to ricochet off its noisome hide. One did strike it in the head, spraying black ichor. It staggered back a little, leaking its foul-smelling blood, then regained its balance on clawed feet and roared at the house.

Coming from the kitchen door, Darlington burst into the great hall behind them at a dead run, panting and out of breath.

"GAWD ALMIGHTY! Watch out! There's TWO of da bloody fings on da roof!"

Just then, a shadowy form made of great beating leathery wings and horse-like head with tooth-filled mouth hovered outside the upper windows. It reached a clawed foot into an upper window and plucked out William Perkins. The poor soul screamed in absolute terror and his dropped rifle clattered to the ground outside!

Keeper's Note: Everyone's fired this turn so next turn's actions! Using automatic fire, Bathony gets one long burst of 10 shots in the turn (so makes 1 attack roll in a turn). I didn't specify the ground floor windows had bars (the shutters were closed when you looked outside) but sure, why not?
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:30, Tue 26 Mar 2013.

Distracted by the appearance of the second beast, JM fires and misses cleanly.

As the Inspector entered the room the Count momentary took his eyes off the creature only to realise his mistake as William let loose with a blood curling scream.

The Count stepped out of the door and aimed as he let loose another volley of shots.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:19, Wed 27 Mar 2013.

There was another loud volley of shots, both from JM and the Count on the ground, and CSM Jones and the other Perkins brother on the second floor. Several rounds struck the beast, and it looked like many, if not most, struck the beast. (It was difficult to tell if any struck poor William.) Bathony, in particular, was satisfied to see his burst walk up the creature's torso. It was impossible to tell in the darkness what damage, if any, was dealt.

The nightmare beast holding William didn't seem to be very inconvenienced. It clamped it's teeth into the helpless man's leg. Blood spurted down his trouser leg but the limb was not severed. "OWWW! Bugger me that hurts! Get it off, Georgie, get it off!"

On the ground, the other monstrosity had recovered its balance and struck at Bathony. All the Count could see from the corner of his eye was a tooth-filled maw bearing down on him as the beast spread its wings for balance and propelled itself forward...

Narrator's Note: I think at least a Dodge roll is appropriate!

The Count retreated back into the relative safety of the doorway and changed the magazine on his rifle. He then raised it for another burst at the beast.

As the count dodged the sweeping attack of the monster, JM moved to cover him, firing a shot into the creature as it moves past.

20:06, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 5 using 1d10+2. Damage.
20:06, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 25 using 1d100. Bang!  65% chance to hit.

Cynthia continues to fire and pump the shotgun, filling the window with smoke and noise - but failing to do anything productive beyond adding soft cover to the battlefield.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 204):

Mungo took a deep breath and berated herself for getting her knickers in a bunch while such good examples of womanhood like Cynthia was doing all the work.  That just wouldn't do.  Looking at Cynthia as her example, for surely if she could shoot at the big beastie then so could Mungo. Mungo let her camera fall down on her chest by it's straps and picked up her weapon to shoot at the big monster with the frightfully large teeth and bad breath and hoped she would hit it this time.

Of course if she did hit it, she wasn't totally sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing because it might draw it's attention to her.  Oh dear, the the situations that Mungo leads Molly into.

There was a further fusillade of gunshots.

The beast that struck at Bathony was right outside the front door, screaming its rage. JM, Molly and Cynthia fired away at point blank range, at a range where they might see the whites of its eyes, were its eyes not black and filmy as oil.

With professional detachment, Molly's own keen reporter's eye noted that JM and Cynthia's shots didn't seem to be penetrating. She could see where the pellets and even the heavy .303 bullet bounced off its thick noisome hide with nary more than a dimple. Of all the rounds that had been pumped into it there only seemed to be a few wounds, small punctures and scratches.

The one on the ground stepped forward and kicked! The heavy front door crashed inwards, barely missing Bathony as he reloaded. It stretched it's neck and forced its head inside. Cynthia was closest to the door and it turned towards her. The abomination's head was like a horse's, save for much bigger. And hungrier! A mouth full of wicked teeth snapped at Cynthia but she moved aside, just in time.

Molly aimed and discharged one barrel of her shotgun at its head, and by the grace of God the pellets struck one of its dead-looking eyes. Even this wound was not enough to kill it, but it pulled back and disappeared outside. With a flap of wings it disappeared upwards, leaving nothing but a foul stench inside and out.

Meanwhile, there was more shooting upstairs from CSM Jones and George Perkins, more screaming from William as he was dragged upwards out of sight.

Mungo gave herself a small "Finally" when she saw her shot had some affect and then shouted over to the others.  "Your bullets are bouncing off the hide.  I hit the eye and it hated it!"

JM keeps his weapons ready.  "We'd need cannons or anti tank rifles to make a dent in those things.  That or knowledge of the ritual to dispel or control them.  I'd guess that they were somehow summoned by the cultists.  We need to get the hell out of here."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 208):

The Count worked the bolt on his rifle chambering a round from the magazine he just loaded before firing off a burst at the monster as it moved off. He cursed as the rifle jammed, as he worked the bolt he said;

"We need to attack them from the attic with our grenades, any attempt to flee through the grounds would be suicide."

He made his way to the Inspector;

"What where the conditions outside inspector was there any sign of Mr Singh."

He beckoned the others to follow as he dashed up stairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:30, Sat 06 Apr 2013.

Cynthia fires off one more shot, hitting the monster she can see, before following the Count up the stairs. She shoves a few more rounds into the magazine as she goes, and tries to find a good place to protect him, whatever he's doing, against attacks.

JM closes and bars the door and then follows the others upstairs.  "These things are all but immune to our gunfire.  I'd hate to tangle with one in the air.  Even the twin Vickers machine guns would have trouble with one of those creatures.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 211):

Mungo followed the others and shook her head.  "They are as stubborn as you gentlemen.  Don't hit them in their heaviest armored places.  Go for the head and openings like eyes or even perhaps the mouth if it opens and doesn't breath fire or something."

Since Mungo was towards the back she just reloaded her gun and didn't fire this time.  Her track record wasn't the greatest and she really didn't want to hit someone who was on her side. While she was reloading she momentarily paused to add, "Just don't ask me to throw a grenade.  I throw like a girl."

JM nodded and smiled at Molly.  "With the way you were shooting Molly we're far better off with you continuing to handle the gun." He reloads as he heads upstairs.  "Definitely keep shooting for the eyes or mouth.  Maybe the belly is vulnerable as well."

At the top of the stairs the Count stopped and asked:

"I have a trick we would preform with these German grenades during the war. Would you all please deposit what you have here."

He then began removing the heads from the sticks and using several lengths twine he began tying six grenade heads to each individual grenade.

"The Germans call it a "Geballte Ladung" and used it during trench clearing and raiding... We adopted it very soon after."

He also called over Mr Perkins and the CSM Jones and advised them on the new plan. He did not meet Mr Perkins eyes.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 214):

Mungo finished reloading as she listened to the Count.  "Oh my.  That looks like it would be quite...devasting...Count.  I would say I'd like to hear that story but, of course, at another time."

The Count continued with a second grenade.

"I do not think you would Miss Fuller they are truly terrible stories."

It wasn't clear that the parting shots did anything. There wasn't much of a door left to lock. JM kind of closed it as best he could, more like leaned it against the frame.

They headed upstairs.

More cracking and sounds of destruction came from the roof. Cries, perhaps from William, still came from above, albeit getting weaker all the time.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 209):

Pocketing his revolver, Darlington looked fearfully up at the roof, then back to the Count.

"Blimey! Mr. Singh? He's dead, I'm afraid. There was a whole lot ov dead buggers around 'im. Must 'ave been a grenade awer two. Not a pret'y sight, i' was.

"The uvver blokes I was wiv, wen' ter get da Major an' brin' 'im back. I 'ope 'e'll be all right! Nuff said.

"Lor' luv a duck! The blokes I left 'ere... They're dead, yeah?"

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 216):

Mungo didn't look at the count but did reply.  "I know it is shocking to hear my request for the story.  But this is shocking also and there are times when shocking news is needed.  All our brave men who fought all the atrocities need their stories told, one way or another, for only by telling the stories do they get remembered.  The world isn't always peaches and cream.  I know that and accept that and appreciate people trying to protect us from the horror and keep it cotton candy sweet.  I still want to know the truth."

With those words Mungo finished reloading and stood up a little prouder, repositioned her hat and waited for another opportunity to try and hit the beastie.

"Singh?? No. After everything he's survived, I can't believe he'd be felled by something so low. Once we're free, we'll see."

(Cynthia is upstairs, with nothing to shoot at, and no grenades, so I guess she's just waiting to be useful, and helping out where she thinks she isn't getting in the way. Unless she recalls seeing something about these dragons in one of the books or scrolls.)

JM shakes his head grimly at the questions about the other men.  He hands his grenades over and grimaces as he hears the cries from Williams.  "Poor fellow, those creatures are just too hard to kill. This grenades should see them off though."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 221):

"Lets hope they are effective Mr Falcon. Could someone please scout ahead for an access way to the creatures."

The Count will make three grenades if he has enough components.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 222):

Mungo smiled the smile that usually got her into trouble.  "Did I hear somebody call for a scout?  I'm pretty good at sneaking into places as well as being smaller and less of a target.  Shall I?"

Mungo really didn't wait for the answer for she was Mungo the Fearless. She was the one who dared go where others had dreamed of but couldn't.  She was the representative of the modern woman who didn't know enough to be too scared to know when it was healthier for her.  She was on her way to scout out the Count's access way and, if the Gods were on her side this time, to live long enough to tell her story.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:32, Tue 09 Apr 2013.

JM nodded to the Count.  "We need a bit of luck on our side Count."  As Molly headed up ahead he shook his head and hustled after her.  "Wait miss Mungo, let me scout ahead."

Downstairs, The Count was able to prepare 2 bundles of stick grenades. There were no grenades left over.

Upstairs, Molly joined Cynthia, CSM Jones and George Perkins. The noises from above resumed, including more screaming from William and destruction of the roof shingles. It sounds like the things were breaking through the roof, now.

To find out more, Molly would need to find a trapdoor or stairwell into the attic.

Narrator's Note: I had Cynthia downstairs, my mistake! No harm, no foul.

JM moved to the trap door. "Let me check and see what the situation is with those monsters."  He levered himself up and peeked through a tiny slit under the trap door.

The Count grabbed both bundles of grenades and mounted the stairs at a run. He moved to where the others had congregated and asks:

"Anyone here with skills in throwing this sort of thing ?"

He looks at the gathered faces.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 227):

Mungo looked at the count and held up her hands.  "Not me.  I'd end up throwing it in back of us and we'd get blown up."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 226):

After some looking, they found a trapdoor to the attic crawlspace. It was at one end of the hallway. Pulling on the string, a set of stairs folded down. The sound of cracking and crunching grew louder!

Keeper's Note: Spot Hidden roll from JM.

"I'm not terribly good at throwing Count.  I have a bit of skill from playing ball as a boy."

JM proceeded cautiously up the stairs, well aware of the creatures above them and the fate of Williams earlier.

The Count handed one of the grenades to Mr Falcon;

"Well it is better than nothing. If you could land it right in the middle it would be greatly appreciated. Now lets get to those foul things and end this we have lost enough friends and colleagues."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Sun 14 Apr 2013.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 230):

From his perch at the top of the fold-down stairs, JM couldn't see very far into the dark and crowded attic space. There were boxes and crates shoved up there. A real rat's nest!

A rat ran by him down the stairs, spooked by the sounds of crashing, destruction and mayhem coming from just out of sight. It was clear that at least one of the beasts was inside. A wooden crate was flung at him, barely missing his head.

JM took the cluster of grenades from the Count and called down to the others.  "One of the bloody things is in the attic I think but I can't see it."  At that moment his attention was distracted as first a rat and then an entire crate came whistling at him.  Ducking he pulled out his torch and tossed it toward the direction from whence the crate had come hoping to both draw a reaction and perhaps spot the creature.

"Don't suppose we can wrap it in a steak so the beastie eats it down? Or at least a tripwire or somesuch?" Cynthia tries to get a sense for where the dragon is, and where the grenade is likely to fall, so she can avoid being underneath (and ensure nothing else worth saving is underneath either).

JM calls down.  "Damn good idea.  Do we have anything we can use miss Holloway?"

The Count reached the bottom of the attic stairs and said;

"Stamp on a rat, I don't think I am up to taking steaks off the cultists."

He then ascends the stairs providing cover for Mr Falcon from the top.

Cynthia hurries on downstairs to the kitchen, to look for anything tasty for monsters. The cultists are an option, but ... ecch.

Downstairs, Cynthia found there was a good supply of food in the kitchen. Tins of beef, with quantities of raw meet in tow iceboxes.

Upstairs, JM threw his torch. It flew out of sight but didn't reveal anything more than what he already knew. The Count was only able to get to the bottom of the access stairs to the attic and no further. JM currently occupied the opening as he called down to Bathony.

Perhaps it was because he was distracted, maybe the beast heard him and pinpointed his locate. Whichever, JM was startled by a sudden rush from inside the attic as the foul horse-like head of beast loomed out of the darkness! It snapped at him, but missed!
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:21, Sat 20 Apr 2013.

Cynthia drops her shotgun, grabs the three biggest slabs of raw meat and runs back upstairs to hand them over. The momentary thought flickers in her mind that she needs to wash her hands after handling it, but somehow that seems like a less urgent threat, all told.

After seeing Mr Falcons reaction at the attic entrance, the Count yells as he raises his rifle to his shoulder:

"Drop Mr Falcon."

JM ducked out of the way of the Count's fire even as the creature loomed above him. As he did so he fumbled with the stick grenades to arm one of them in preparation for tossing it at the monster.

JM called out as he readied the grenades.  "This lot will destroy the entire upper floor.  Everyone clear out now!  Down to the ground floor!"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 242):

Mungo didn't aruge with John-Marc and rushed down stairs.  "You sure downstairs is safe enough?  Should we be outside?  Don't be too much of a hero tonight Mr. Falcon....otherwise you might not see my nurse disguise."

"Mr Falcon we are too close, please come down so we can reassess the situation."

The Count surmised that poor Mr Singh was probably the only other person to have seen the effect of these grenades on structures and the house was very old.

JM recognized the better part of valor and retreated down the stairs. "We'll need to find some way to use these.  Otherwise only the machine gun is going to be enough to even scratch them outside of a lucky shot."

Cynthia hands over the meat and pauses, "We aren't ... wrapping these?"

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 246):

"Yes Miss Holloway, here you are."

The Count removed two of the grenades from the bundle for the meat to be applied. Once the task was complete he hands one to Mr Falcon.

"Hopefully it is enough to grab their attention."

If he spots the monster at the attic door he will toss up the grenade, otherwise he begins to climb up.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Wed 24 Apr 2013.

Blech. Cynthia wraps the grenades in meat, using belts, ropes, or tearing off her own clothing if necessary.

JM smiled down at the messy handful.  "They certainly seem hungry enough.  Let's hope this works."  He went to an upstairs window to see if one of the creatures was about.  "Let's throw a bundle of the meat outside, attract the creature and then arm and throw one of the grenades.  Perhaps we can get them both."

"Yes sounds good. See if you are able to get in the attic gives us a bit of room to manoeuvre as it were.

The Count follow behind Mr Falcon up the ladder.

Using the meat and torn bedsheets, Cynthia was able to fashion three "meat bombs" from the steaks she'd found. The Count took one and started climbing up. JM, meanwhile, checked out the windows, but could't see any of the beasts.

However, he did hear the motor of a vehicle approaching the bridge to the small island that the mansion sat upon. From the sound, it could be a lorry like the one that Major Storm had been driving.

Downstairs, Darlington threw open one of the ground-floor shutters, peering out through the bars. All he had was a revolver, so he grabbed the rifle that Rashid held.

"Thanks, mate. Lor' luv a duck! who da devil what is coming 'ere? E'll get kilt!"

JM calls out; "Nothing out in the courtyard.  Can you see anything more in the attic Count?  The damn thing was hiding."

The Count moves to the top of the stairs to the attic, stops and scans the interior from a crouch. He has his rifle at his shoulder and his torch against the fore wood of the weapon held by his left hand.

He does not respond to Mr Falcons call at the moment but knows he should still be visible from the bottom of the stairs.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 254):

As Bathony mounted the fold-down stairs to the attic, the noises inside continued. The beast was around elephant-sized, but it was a large if cluttered attic, large enough to fit it if it hunched down. Shadows danced as he swept the torch back and forth.

He saw movement over where he thought the hole in the ceiling was located. There were many intervening obstacles: boxes, crates, old paintings, broken furniture. Suddenly it screeched. And that screech was answered by something outside. They were reminded, there were two of the monsters...

Below, the lorry came into view in front of the house. It was indeed Maj. Storm and the men who were attacking the gate. Apparently they'd either killed or driven off their opponents, and had carried on to the main house to see if they could be of assistance.

The Count waited unsure whether to proceed or not. To move away from his only avenue of escape could be suicide, yet the problem would not solve itself sitting where he was.

He did move off, turning the torch upward to give a more subdued all around light as he walked through the maze in the attic. He tried to keep quiet.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:01, Sun 28 Apr 2013.

JM leaned out the window and called out to the men below in the truck.  "Watch out!  There are flying monsters above you!  Get the machine gun ready!"

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 256):

There was an astounding amount of wreckage and debris cluttering the attic. Probably due to the rampages of an elephant-sized winged beast that had first penetrated through the slate ceiling! Unfortunately, it was impossible to keep quiet among the litter of broken wood beams, slate shingles, damaged crates and boxes. Stumbling a little he knocked over a mould-spotted painting, which fell over with a clatter.

He must have been alone as nothing reacted to the sudden noise. Above him he could see a hole large enough to admit an omnibus had been torn in the roof. Were there any stars he could have easily seen them up in the sky but alas, black clouds still shroouded the heavens.

Stepping out with Winchester at hand he looked at JM, then peered up at the dark skies.

"Wait, what? Monsters, what the hell are you... Faruk, Haji, bring out the gun! Set for air target!"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Tue 30 Apr 2013.

In reply to Major Charles Storm (msg # 259):

As Storm scanned the sky, rifle in hand, the two Egyptians that had helped him with attacking the gate climbed out of the back of the lorry. One carried the Lewis gun, the other carrying 2 spare ammo drums in hip ammo pouches on cross-shoulder straps.

"AAAIIIEEEEEE!!!!!" Two immense nightmare shapes dropped down on the Major, swooping out of the black skies to land on either side. One creature stretched is sinuous neck and grasped his head in it's maw, biting down. The other grasped one of his legs. They pulled in opposite directions in a ghastly tug-of-war and Maj. Storm was ripped apart in a spray of blood and gore that spattered to the ground and splashed the hood and wind screen of the lorry!

The two men by the rear of the lorry stared in shock, then dropped their weapons and ammunition, running like hell off into the darkness.

Keeper's Note: SAN check for JM.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 260):

Looking out the ground floor window at the carnage, Darlington yelled, "FUCKIN' 'ELL! Oops, beg pardon, Miss Fuller."

Thrusting his revolver out the bars of the window, he squeezed off a quick shot, to no visible effect.

Unfazed by the gristly death of the Major or perhaps numb to the horrors of the night, JM vows vengeance and throws his bundle of four grenades at a beast.  "Die filthy monsters!"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Wed 01 May 2013.

In reply to Albert Darlington (msg # 261):

Molly wasn't really aware of the swearing for she was hoping that she wasn't seeing what she thought she saw.  She heard JM mutter something, or she only heard a mutter, it was hard to tell and then saw him throw a grenade.

The Count had not managed to get far into the cluttered attic before the gunfire caught his attention. He continued on determined to render aid to Mr Perkins brother if the poor man was still alive.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:34, Thu 02 May 2013.

The greatest horror Cynthia is struggling with is uncooked steak as, following the directions of the gentlemen, she wraps them around the stick grenades and holds them to be tossed.

As JM threw the grenade bundle, CSM Jones and the surviving Perkins brother were starting up the stairwell after the Count, to rescue poor Bill Perkins.

Inside, Darlington took cover, urging those with him in the main hall to do the same.

Below, the bundle of stick grenades hit the ground near the two feasting horrors and bounced. Due to the unbalanced nature of the projectile, JM was unable to land it exactly on target and it rolled past them. The explosion was immense, lifting the lorry off the ground and dropping it on its roof! The shuttered windows of the ancient house rattled. Some pictures fell off the walls, in the kitchen crockery crashed to the tile floor as a shelf collapsed and metal cookware was scattered around with a horrid clang.

One beast collapsed, riddled by shrapnel or simply succumbed to the shock wave. The other stumbled and spat out the gobbet of flesh in its mouth, but otherwise seemed unharmed. It took off, disappearing into the dark skies above.

JM ducked out of the way as the explosion rattled the house.  Seeing the effects of the explosion he was happy he had not used the even larger bundle upstairs.  Seeing the one creature bound off into the darkness and the other slump to the ground he darted outside to make sure the first creature was truly dead.  If there was any sign of life he resolved to but a bullet in the brain through the eye at point blank range.

The Count continued cautiously through the junk in the attic. When he heard the other two men he signalled with his torch then waited for them to catch up. He made no comment to either and quickly fell into step with their over-watch movement as they went deeper into the attic.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 267):

The thing twitched in its death throes as JM cautiously walked up. He put his rifle to the beast's head, pulling the trigger. The bullet went into what he assumed was the brain case, and the foul-smelling monster gave a final spasm in death.

However, JM was unprepared for what came next! The other, still-living creature dropped upon him from above, pinning him under it's bulk with a clawed foot. The weight and pressure was astounding. But what really got his attention was the hideous tooth-filled mouth biting down on him...

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 269):

"Blimy!" yelled Darlington. "Watch out, mate..."

His warning came far too late. In response to the beast's attack on JM, Darlington drew his revolver and fired a shot. It struck the monster but the bullet ricochetted off into the darkness. "Ah, fuck me! Beg pardon, miss Molly."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:47, Mon 06 May 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 268):

The three men advanced into the wreckage. They found the remains of George's brother underneath the hole in the roof, though they somehow wished they had not. He was dead, and partially consumed. A leg was missing, and his ribcage was exposed through his shredded shirt.

George collapsed, sobbing. "Oh God! Oh God! I'm so sorry, Billy! I was supposed to take care of you. All through the war, but now this..."

From downstairs came the sound of further shooting and frantic yelling.

In reply to Albert Darlington (msg # 270):

Molly screamed.  It was a totally feminine thing to do and to tell the truth, it felt good to do it.  Hopefully it wouldn't get around to some circles that Mungo screamed but every female deserved a good scream once in awhile and if what was in front of them wasn't a cause to scream, she didn't know what was.

"You have to hit the blasted thing in the eye or maybe even the mouth.  A mouth full of lead would be preferred to a mouth of John Marc...at least by my reckoning."

Molly picked up her gun that she had been holding but not using and took aim for the creatures eye.  Hopefully she could hit it and not John Marc but if she did hit him, she would nurse him back to health in a cute nurses outfit...or bury him and put the best damn notification in the paper that anybody had ever seen.

She squeezed the trigger while she prayed she could be of some help.

Fortunately some fighter pilot's instinct warned JM of the creature's presence.  He rolled out of the way of the bite.

OOC: Am I pinned by the creature as well?  If not I will try to get away from the damn thing.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 271):

There was little the Count could do, he placed a hand on his friends shoulder.

He turned his head at the shouts and gunfire.

"It would seem that the fight is not over my friend and you may yet have your revenge. I fear we must once more engage these creatures unless we all fall into darkness"

He waited for the other two before returning to the attic door at a sprint.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 274):

Perkins didn't want to move, he just knelt and sobbed by the remains of his brother.

"Come on, lad! We got work to do, time to go! We'll deal with him later, right?"

CSM Jones began pulling George Perkins away from his brother's savaged corpse. "Sir, you'd better go on, I'll see that he gets out of here all right!"

Outside, the flipped-over truck continued to burn with orange flame that threw black smoke billowing up into the night sky. The beast took off again, shooting up in the air with a great beating of leathery wings. All that was left was the noisome odour of its dead companion.

Cynthia whispers to her companions upstairs, "do you suppose the other one is planning to return?"

JM continued his roll and in a smooth motion ran into the house.  He was panting and a bit frightened but his face was exhilarated.  He turned to Molly;  "That was close, too close.  We're going to have to lure the other one down and bomb it as well."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 277):

Molly brought up her hand to slap John-Marc in the face for frightening her but stopped herself before she went into her swing.  "You are a cad for frighting me like that...although I am totally pleased that you are unhurt.  Even your luck will run out sometime so please take better care."

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 275):

The Count stopped;

"No we better move the body to a safer location. I think the things will probably return."

He grabbed a dust sheet or something similar off the stored furniture and began to wrap the body to return with it downstairs.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 279):

There were plenty of old and grimy drop-cloths available to use as a shroud. Perkins seemed to be recovering and they all helped bring the remains downstairs.

JM makes a small bow to Molly.  "I apologize for frightening you miss Mungo.  I wasn't sure myself if I'd make it back."

When the others gathered downstairs JM called out.  "One creature down and one to go.  The grenades took it out which seems to be about the only thing that really works.  We could use a body of a cultist to draw the thing down in range and blow it up."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:28, Fri 10 May 2013.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 281):

The Count was quite taken a back on they had secured Mr Perkins brothers body down stairs. The Truck on its side and burning it crew nowhere to be seen.

The Count turned to Mr Falcon:

"Any more fatalities ?"

He did not want to hear the answer he was sure would be positive.

"Yes the grenades would seem to be our only option. Volley fire as well if we get the chance."

He then again moved downstairs to ready another pile of corpses.

JM shook his head sadly.  "One of the monsters caught the Major and tore him to shreds."  He smiled grimly.  "It's the dead one."  JM turned to the others.  "Ready yourselves.  We'd best prepare our grenades and have three or four of us hurl them at once to make sure we get the beast."

The Count did not comment on the death of the Major just nodding his head as he watched the wreck of the truck burn. He turned to the Inspector and asked:

"And how did the good Mr Singh pass Inspector ? Was he able to take some of them with him or is it likely a group from the truck are still active in the grounds ?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:17, Sun 12 May 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 284):

Darlington reloaded the spent cartridge from his revolver.

"Lawd above! 'E died terribly, 'e did. Blown 'imself up. Surrounded by corpses. Looks like a couple grenades wen' off right where 'e was. I didn't coun' da bodies, could be someone escaped."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:27, Mon 13 May 2013.

Cynthia follows downstairs, carrying her meat-grenades, still bundled against her chest. She had heard the explosions and screaming outside, but had not heard enough to make out the details. Seeing the twisted remains in the house breaks her demeanor, and two of the grenades fall from her grip onto the stairs. She looks away with a gasp, then busies herself, picking up the forgotten grenades.

She hurries downstairs, handing off the grenades to whoever plants to use them, or depositing them on a table, then hurries on to the dining room to retrieve her shotgun. She pauses, hearing the news about Mr. Singh, then continues to her gun without comment.

While in the kitchen, she scours her hands and rubs them on a towel until they're red and clean.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 286):

Molly saw Cynthia give out the grenades, drop them, and then give them out again.  Molly followed Cynthia and watched her wash her hands.  She leaned against the sink and spoke in a low voice.  "Careful on the scrubbing Cynthia.  You don't need to add your blood to that which is washing off.  It's a terrible business we've found ourselves in lately."

The Count returned to the ground floor with enough men to cover them as they moved the bodies to the front of the house. He advised everyone to stand back from the windows as they readied the grenades for the attack.

JM turned to Darlington.  "Help me give a body the heave ho out into the yard to draw the creature to it." First he looked to the others.  "Let's throw both grenades at the thing and fire every gun we have available if it lands."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 289):

Stone-faced, Darlington holstered his revolver and nodded. He lifted the esteemed and now late MP by the shoulders. A Detective Sergeant experienced in the ways of death, he remembered not to breathe in because the man's bowels had probably let go at his demise.

"Cor! This bugger will provide a greater 'elp naow that 'e evvir was in da 'ouse, innit?"

Indeed, a foul odour wafted up from the trousers of the dead man, adding to the charnel-house stench that already permeated the room. They got ready to chuck him out the door, which was easy as there no longer was a front door. It was more a slab of wood propped in its former frame after being torn off its hinges.

Bathony had the grenade bundle of 6 (Note: -10 percentiles to Throw) while CSM Jones and the surviving Perkins took the other 2 remaining grenades, wrapped in steaks taken from the ice box. The ladies were in the kitchen. As for the freed hostages, they were taking shelter in the dining room adjacent to the great hall, both to keep out of the way and avoid the pile of corpses in the next room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:05, Wed 15 May 2013.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 287):

"Mr. Singh can't be gone. He wouldn't leave like that. He's just waiting up ahead for us." She keeps scrubbing, almost mechanically, until she realizes what she's doing, and throws the towel away. "You'll see. It's dark out, is all."

Cynthia grabs her shotgun from where she left it and checks that it's loaded.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 292):

"Of course Dear.  Let's go and join up with the others shall we?"  Molly felt sorry for Cynthia but could understand it.  Perhaps Mr. singh was just hiding or going to get transportation.  She hoped that it was true but she wasn't going to hold her breath on it.  In the meantime she would watch out for Cynthia for the poor dear seemed to be out of sorts and in denial.

Cynthia reloads her shotgun and joins the group, staying by the doorway until needed.

JM shakes his head with a disgusted look on his face.  "It's foul business for sure Sergeant.  It's all foul business here."  He checked and reloaded his pistol and readied his rifle.  "Everyone ready?  Ok, one... two... three... heave!"  He move a few paces out side, heave the body and dart back inside.

The Count worked on something with the grenade cluster;

"Just a minute Mr Falcon...yes this should work."

He came over and tucked the bundle into the man belt, unravelling the ball of twine he had attached to the end of the stick and the striker cord.

"All right we may want place the bodies, everyone when I shout GRENADE please take cover behind the stone walls of the house interior, no heads or limbs in windows or doors."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:54, Wed 15 May 2013.

JM watched the Count work and nodded in approval.  "Excellent idea count, excellent."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 297):

Molly nodded to the Count and quickly made sure that her gun was all loaded up in case she needed it.  She looked for Cynthia to make sure that she heard and would take cover also.  "Will do.  Looks like a smashing idea you have cooked up Count.  Cynthia, shall you join me over here?  It looks like a good place and not by the windows.  I would imagine it meets the Counts criteria for cover."

Molly went to the selected section and got ready to duck down when she received the word.

Cynthia is distracted for a moment, then nods. "Yes, good idea."

She joins Molly and waits for the signal, keeping an eye out for any movement visible through the windows.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 299):

Revolver in hand, Darlington crouched behind a chesterfield on the far of the grand hall, away from the windows.

"Blimey! Ladies, if you'd be so kind, please join me 'ere. We can rush forward when da grenades are done their work. Nuff said, yeah?

The two men, JM and the Count, scrambled a few paces out the door and heaved the body as far as they could.

CSM Jones and Perkins decided not to ready their own grenades, if this gambit failed they would need something to fall back on! CSM Jones said, "everyone get back from the bloody wall if you can, preferably in another room. When that charge goes off it might still collapse the wall, solid stone or not!"

By the sheerest luck, the bundle remained secure. The Count was confident that pulling on the string attached to the arming cord hard enough to arm the explosives would not dislodge it.

Outside, there was a pregnant pause. Then the nighmare creature landed astride the sprawled body with a scream. The head darted down to start ripping chunks of flesh out of the corpse.

JM darted back in cover and prepared to fire.  "Hold your fire lads until the Count pulls the cord."

The Count saw his chance as the beast landed.

"GRENADE"

He pulled on the twine as he himself hid behind the stone wall his arms over his head. He had tucked the bundle in the mans belt with the handle pointing back towards the house as secure as he could hope for..
This message was last edited by the player at 21:06, Sat 18 May 2013.

Cynthia won't wait for Darlington to ask twice. She hides with him, and ducks down when she hears the noise of the monster outside.

Hearing the word Grenade, Molly joined the others in hiding and covered her ears against the noise of the explosion.

With a sharp tug, the arming cord of the grenade came free, activating the fuse. Beside him, Bathony's men sought cover as well, covering their ears.

After an endless pause there was a tremendous explosion outside! Although the remains of the door and the shutters blew inside with a shower of splinters and sparks, the wall didn't cave in and no one was hurt.

Grey smoke billowed into the grand hall, filling it with the hot smell of cordite and gunpowder. Debris like dirt and stones rained down outside.

Peering through the smoke they could see the second beast lying inert on the gravel drive, next to the small crater left by the explosion.

JM shuddered as the blast went off, thanking the sturdy enough construction fo the place to save them once again.  He rose, his ears still ringing and peered through the smoke. "That's the last one.  Let's finish it off and get out of here with our relics and loot.  We have to kill it from short range to be sure."  He headed out warily, pistol drawn and out of the line of fire from the house to finish it off if it were still alive.

The Count hazarded a look at the area where the beast had been through the doorway. Seeing its carcass he rolls back into a sitting position his head in his hands. The cost had been great, to great.

At Mr Falcons call the Count follows him out, rifle in hand.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 309):

Darlington drew his revolver and bolted from behind the couch. Outside he peered instead at the sky, searching for additional and unknown threats!

Cynthia peers over the window ledge, looking to identify both the first and the second beast. She'll watch the boys go out and do their work, and once everyone is satisfied the beasties are gone, she'll move back to the basement for a more thorough search and seizure.

Outside was a scene of carnage. The truck still burned, sending oily smoke up into the night sky. Parts of Major Storm's savaged and mutilated corpse lay scattered among the other bodies that had been used as bait.

Amazingly, the creature seemed to still be alive, although it appeared to be unconscious. It was noisome and foul-smelling, a thick lizard-like hide spotted with what appeared to be nitre deposits, perhaps as if it had been underground or adapted to living in a location with geothermal activity?

Keeper's Note: anyone who hasn't taken a SAN check for seeing Storm's death must do so now!

Already hardened to the death of the brave Major, JM puts a round through each eye.  "Nasty buggers.  We should get pictures of these before we go."

"Of Course Mr Falcon but lets send this thing to the black hole it came from."

He raises his rifle and then asks.

"Let us see if we can find the Lewis gun."

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 312):

Mungo had been doing fine.  She had ignored most of the gore.  She had helped to guard people.  She had done fine....until...she saw Storm's body.  She looked at it and, unfortunately, it was Molly who looked back.  She screamed and went into the corner for a bit, hugging her self and refusing to move.  She kept shaking her head and muttering.  "Eyes...the eyes.....They will see us.  They stare at us.  We can't get rid of them. Don't.. don't look."

JM looked back at the sobbing Molly and shook his head sympathetically.  The sight was certainly not for the faint of heart and he did not hold her reaction against her.  Still, they had work to do and she must be comforted while the dealt with the remaining situation. "Miss Holloway, can you comfort Miss Mungo?"

He looked over at the Count and nodded.  "Put several more rounds in the head if you like Count.  It is better to be safe with these creatures than sorry.  As for the Lewis gun, yes, it should be about."  JM started searching the area for the machine gun.  "It may have been scattered or damaged in the explosion of the truck."

The final rounds served to put the beast out of its misery.

While Bathony found the Lewis gun where the late Maj. Storm dropped it, JM believed the ammunition was somewhere under the flaming wreckage of the truck.

Inside the house, Ai'Yesha comforted the seemingly-stricken Molly, speaking to her softly and holding her. Her cousin Rashid went to the kitchen and put some water on to boil for tea, bringing the pot back in a few minutes.

"There there, miss. Have a spot of tea, it'll do you a world of good!"

Downstairs, Cynthia found a wealth of jewellery and mystic symbols that matched the ones once worn by the dead cultists who lay upstairs, as well as spare robes.