Somehow, after what they'd seen and experienced, it seemed the dreary wet streets of late-spring London were both more unreal and more threatening. Rain-plagued days, fog shrouded nights.

It was a bloody week in the city and surrounding area. Inspector Barrington was good as his word as the machinery to conceal the truth moved into gear. The two London MET police (a detective and Bobby) who died were reported to have perished in unrelated traffic accidents. Their funerals were well-attended by the other officers of Scotland Yard, amid calls for greater motorist safety.

Gavigan, the MP and other Brotherhood cultists vanished, the Dark Mistress. Foul play was suspected. Scotland Yard theorised that a gang under Tewfik al-Sayed (whereabouts unknown) posed as servants to Gavigan and his party met a violent end at their hands. The mansion was robbed and burned to cover their tracks with the bodies dumped at sea. Witnesses reported small boats moving up and down the river Naze during the earliest hours the night the mansion burned down. Should the Dark Mistress ever return to British waters many hard questions would be asked!

The funeral for William Perkins was a small and private affair, attended by a half-dozen of his friends from his old Regiment (at George's insistence). After, Perkins confided that he was seeing corpses lying about the streets again, as he did for a time after returning from the carnage of the Great War. At the offices of the London Scoop, Uncle Mickey pressed Molly for details of what she'd seen, if she could provide details or information on what was going on.

It wasn't much better down in Kent, where JM and Karlheinz tended their scant business out at Lympne aerodrome. Karlheinz was drinking heavily again, something about those hideous beasts and the deaths of friends triggered his nightmares.

Despite Cynthia's searching, Singh's body was never found in the marsh or the river. Nor did he or his body turn up at the nearest hospitals and police stations in Colchester, Felixstowe or Ipswitch.

Eventually, Darlington showed up at the flat in London. With him was the younger Imam of the Shah Jehan Mosque in Woking, who thanked them for rescuing the members of his Mosque. They were safe and sound. (Dr. Weston had taken the other freed prisoners under his wing, they were recovering from both their ordeal and their addiction to drink at an exclusive sanitorium in Bath.)

The Imam asked, "what are your plans now? Will you return to America? The Detective Sergeant says that the expedition you are tracking visited Egypt, then darkest Africa in Kenya."

The Count found the streets of London both comforting in their familiarity and frightening in their unpredictability. He was jumping at shadows for several days and felt an unease he had last experienced during his final days in Romania and subsequent flight. Slowly the feeling left him as he again entered his daily routine.

He made sure the house was hearty provisioned for his quests, his own experiences seemed diminished over a good meal and fine company. He cooked a breakfast each morning and had cold meats and cheeses available for lunch and the evening meal was large and sumptuous . He diminished his personal cellar and had many fine vintages of wine, port and sprints brought in from Fortnums with the extra food.

He continued to pay for the extra police presence in the neighbourhood and engaged CSM Jones as a permanent member of staff, primary as security, but also in the general day to day running of the store. He also suspected a familiar face and friend may put Mr Perkins mind at ease. He arranged for Mr Perkins to have weekly sessions with a doctor on Harley street his own physician had suggested. This Doctor dealt primary with the afflictions of the mind and the Count hopped it would help. Just having someone to talk to always eased his mind.

The first Sunday evening after their adventure the Count arranged for a Mass  to be said for the victims at his Orthodox church. Given his own diminished lack of faith this would seem to be an odd occurrence, but he hoped it would help others if not himself. It was now pointless to deny that other things do not exist when he had seen the evil in the flesh. He just hoped there was also good hidden in the veil..

Each morning he laid the items, books and scrolls they had recovered from the manor, Gavigans building and Teweik's shop out in the parlour and in the evening he locked them away in the vault. He continued to study the book in Latin and he had a sample of relevant books brought up from the shop or down from the library to be be available when necessary.

They opened the shop again on the Monday after the event and resumed normal trading hours. Correspondence was dealt with first and then orders were packed or unpacked and catalogued. The Count also began an inventory of the library recovered from the manor and shelved what he could for sale and contacted any standing orders that mite be interested. He also removed any trace of ownership to Gavigan through the removal of book-plates, inscriptions or annotations.

Lastly there were various other matters that required the Counts attention and to a lesser extent Mr Perkins. Meetings of various clubs and societies, work lunches and the odd happy hour drinks to keep his contacts happy. He also made discrete inquires at the British Museum to do with the bust they had recovered, nothing too specific, an accurate  translation of the inscriptions etc...

“Ultimately a hero is a man who would argue with the gods, and so awakens devils to contest his vision. The more a man can achieve, the more he may be certain that the devil will inhabit a part of his creation.” Norman Mailer
This message was last edited by the player at 08:55, Fri 21 June 2013.

JM brought KH down to London with him for a break. The gloomy weather and the lack of opportunity to fly was weighing on both of them as well as the events of the previous days.  They tied one on in the clubs and dives of London, losing themselves in the pleasures of the flesh and the bottle like old times.

After curing the hangover with sleep and a good breakfast the two fliers headed to the flat. "We can get you in front of Dr. Weston KH.  It would be good to talk to someone about your feelings.  Think back to the Great War and how even the hardest of veterans sometimes were overcome with stress from the horrors.  It happens to all of us.  I might talk to him myself."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 3):

KH was staggering a little as they made their way through the theatre district towards the Count's block of flats.

"Yah, dat ist zoundink goot! Oh, this is much better mit out zee dreamz, but when ze schnapps wears off, ze dreams come. But should I not be halting ze drink, I shall die as surely as if I were to jump from zee Zeppelin as it burns, yah?"

Cynthia continued to pay visits to the hospitals and prisons in the area, and left donations in her wake to perhaps relieve a tiny bit of suffering in a world where monsters like Gavigan lurked in cushy offices. But her visits were never long; shadowy figures followed her out of the corner of her eye, and there was still no sign of Mr. Singh.

Following the Count's service, Cynthia knew she had waited long enough.



Father,

There has been a most terrible accident. A street car lost control on a turn. Mr. Singh, with no regard for his own safety, pushed me to safety as well as two more pedestrians; a father and his young daughter. Had he chosen to, Mr. Singh could have easily escaped with me, but he chose instead to save a person he did not know and who could not possibly reward him, and he did so at the price of his own life. The three of us owe our lives to him.

We held a service for Mr. Singh this week. He was buried with full honors. I write to tell you that Mr. Singh met and exceeded every expectation you placed on him, and to request you release any severance, as well as as large a bonus as you feel my life is worth to his family.

This ordeal has been stressful for me. I'm fortunate in that an acquaintance of mine is a barrister, and has promised he would spare no expense in seeing the rail company pay its dues to the victims. With that, I feel anything I can do here has been done. I set sail soon for the Mediterranean, where I hope to recover some of my mental balance from the accident. I will be in touch soon to tell you that I am alright. I am traveling with a group of trusted friends, but I expect I will be hiring on some additional help soon.

With love,

Cynthia



She sent her letter knowing it would not reach New York in time for a response.

She began to pen a letter on behalf of Phil, but realized she did not know who she would possibly send it to. Nevertheless, she wrote for half an hour, and tucked the letter in the fire.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:00, Sat 22 June 2013.

Molly talked to her Uncle but didn't tell him everything.  He was a nice man, even if some people would argue that fact, and she really did love him.  She didn't want him to have nightmares from what she had seen but also she didn't think that he would believe everything.

Luckily she had pictures she could show that were gruesome enough to satisfy the hunger of the people.  The same people who couldn't turn their eyes away from the horror of war and depravity that murderers would sink to.  Still Molly didn't show the pictures of the dragons, as she called them, but instead the horrors of the dying burned out bodies laid out.  Her pictures were stark and naked.  Let the people think on what was happening.  Their minds might be able to cope with such pictures and stories but anything more horrific?   No, the time wasn't right yet to show those pictures.  Those pictures Molly would keep in her private files and notes until the time was right.

JM slipped an arm through KH's as they made their way through the city. "I'm having similar dreams kamerade.  We both could use some time with the doctor.  As long as we are alive there is still hope and life.  We need to push forward and dispel these dreams even as we've overcome everything else."

He knocks at the door at the Count's place.

The Count had decamped from his study to the large kitchen table. Half was devoted to his preparation for the evening meal all the ingredients were arrayed ready for inclusion. The other half was full of his correspondence, both professional and private. He had two lecterns with various books  propped open as well as a large cook book open on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

Mr Perkins was busy downstairs with accounts, cataloguing and shelving various orders. The menu was the following:

Starters
Sardine Canape
Long Island Sound Cocktail
English Pepperpot Soup

Mains
Kidney Pie
Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding
Roast Shoulder of Lamb

Nut and Pepper Croquettes
Salted Cauliflower
Buttered and Spiced Beets

He just had enough sauce boats in the crockery cupboard, no one would notice the odd chip.

Brown Sauce
Herb Sauce
Horseradish Sauce
and dessert would consist of:

Stewed Pears
Orange Betty

The dinning room had been set first and he had arranged the items they had found on their various adventures in the parlour. Once everyone had arrived the Count served and took his time so the meal stretched on into the evening.

It was not until they were all relaxing over a port, brandy or more exotic spirits before the Count broached the subject.

“So to where next ?”

JM is well relaxed after the meal.  "Excellent dinner Count, I've not had it's equal outside of my mother's table."  He leaned back.  "It seems like Egypt may be our next destination."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 9):

Molly had arrived at the Count's for dinner dressed in a silk pants outfit and jaunty hat.  To those who only saw her periodically, she looked like the normal Molly who was dressed to go clubbing.  To those who she had seen blood shed with, she was putting on a brave front.  In the back of her eyes there was a slight shadow.  It was the latter party that she felt more comfortable with now.

Molly looked at the party after eating and slightly patted her stomach.  "This has been a wonderful meal Count.  Far better than I would have gotten at home.  I'm afraid that I shall have to soon go to the clothiers to let out some seams.  All this wonderful food is too good to pass up."

She then looked over at John-Marc.  "Have you been to Egypt before?"

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 10):

"Thank you, I am just happy you all could come. It is not often I get to cook for a group"

He took a slip of his fățată and added;


"Yes it seems to look like all the clues point to Egypt, it is certainly easier to get to then any of the other locations mentioned in the ledger. I would guess it is also the home of this cult, or was if any of the artefacts history are correct."


"That being said I would say this is their home ground and we are stepping into the lions maul, I don't think we can lessen the risk ? So how are we to travel ? A steamer from the United Kingdom or a train to Italy and across the Mediterranean ?"

JM smiled at Molly.  "Oh, I was based in Egypt during the Great War.  We were flying patrols over Palestine and later Syria in support of the push against the Turks.  It's a fascinating place."

He looked to the Count.  "We could fly in my transport.  I can hop to Egypt via the northern Mediterranean."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 12):

Looking thoughtful, Ralph ate quietly. He finally spoke.

"I've been to Egypt. And Africa. But to be honest, I am having second, well, third thoughts on the matter. I believe I'll return home. To Wisconsin. After the death of the Major, and Phil, Mr. Singh, dear Howard... and the wanton death and destruction at the mansion... killing those cultists, even if they deserved it, those beasts... I don't know what good I'm doing here any more. It just seems like it might be best to call it a day for me. I feel like I'm letting you all down! It breaks my heart."

In reply to Prof. Ralph T. Fulty (msg # 13):

"Not in the least Professor you must do what you think is right and we have seen and had to do the most terrible things."

"If you are able to could I trouble you for a letter of introduction or in the very least a name of of a helpful contact in the Cairo ?"

He then turned to Mr Falcon;

"Oh dear I was looking forward to a leisurely cruise on the Med, but you are right and I would fear time is against us in this endeavour. I am sure Tewfik if he is alive he will be making his way there or at least to a telegraph office."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 07:35, Thu 27 June 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 14):

"Certainly! I know a couple folks in Cairo, including the national museum and expatriates working for the government, studying, on expedition. I'll get you fixed up.

"Also, the Imam of the mosque in Woking is probably grateful. That's why he was involved, a lot of his parishioners are Egyptian. I can't think of anyone more grateful, tell you the truth."

"The imam is an excellent thought. I'm concerned that hiring a guide when we arrive would be asking for trouble, especially if Mr. Fulty is not coming with us to vouch for him. Not to mention, one of the imam's friends might feel a little more loyalty to our cause than a friend-of-a-friend. Not to say we shouldn't contact local help as well, but I'm thinking of who I would be most willing to entrust my life to."

JM smiled. "We could be traced via a cruise at departure and certainly on arrival.  However I could probably use my own contacts to use a military field and avoid prying eyes at the main airport." OOC: Assuming they are different...

He turns to the Cynthia and professor Fulty.  "The Imam is certainly a great idea.  A local guide is in many ways the best.  Whatever academic contacts you can provide us with will further help our cause."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 17):

"Then let's call him, straightaway. Those two chaps he sent seemed to have done a bang-up job, what were their names, Faruk and Haji? Except at the end, of course, nasty, nasty business.

"Oh, I should tell you, I am happy to accompany you to Egypt to continue looking for the man my brother was seeking, Carlysle, I believe? Darragh, I am afraid, will not be able to come. At least this way I may continue with treatment for the after effects of that awful, awful night."

Mr Perkins watched his hand as it trembled, well at least his psychosis was not different from the last time. He had gone in confidence to the the Count once he had return from Birmingham and had explain that his visions had return.

As always the Count had listen then suggested a prudent course of action. He was too speak to a doctor, he had read about this new branch of medicine that deals with aliments of the mind. Who knows it may alleviate his symptoms faster, heavens knows it was years after the war until he was sleeping right.

He slipped at his ginger beer as the others spoke, so to Egypt. The burning feeling appeared in his chest again... he would have his revenge on these bastards.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:51, Fri 28 June 2013.

JM nods to Dr. Weston.  "Your assistance in this matter is greatly appreciated Dr. Weston.  As well it is encouraging and appreciated that you will be coming with us on our travels."

The Count seemed lost in thought for a minute;

"I have a colleague in town at the moment who may be able to help. He is an Egyptian and has some influence I believe"

He gets up from his chair and goes to the table below the window;

"This came this morning in the first post."

He hands off a richly embossed invitation to a book launch.

JM will lean forward and look at the invitation.  "An author Count?"

"I don't believe so, actually I am unsure of his role. Possibly just a guide to the subtle intrigues of London for the author on his book tour. His name is Alexander Hussein Mahfouz I have meet him on a couple of occasions at lectures hosted by the National Geographical Society seems a genuine fellow."

JM considers the invitation. "An Egyptian might be of use to us.  What do you know of the fellow's writings?  Do you think we might enlist him in our perilous quest?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 24):

"Yes Mr falcon I believe he would join our quest on a professional level. He is somewhat of a facilitator for various expeditions in Egypt finding permits, people, equipment etc... I have used him to track down various English language volumes in Cairo and surrounds. We are somewhat fortunate he is currently in London."

As the good professor Ralph Fulty speaks of his leaving, Weston responds, "Well, although I'm sad to hear that, we certainly will be keeping in touch. There is nothing like the horrors of war to bind chaps together in eternal friendship.  May we hopefully meet again before too long."

The good doctor sits forward to look at the invitation that the Count had produced on the table before their assembly, and listens to the interchange, before answering, "So apart from meeting up with Alexander, do we think there are any other preparations that would be vital to look into before our departure?  Otherwise, I will probably check in with the office and make sure things will be covered while I'm away.

"Of course, I could always assume there could be some light reading that could be pursued in the meantime."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:35, Wed 03 July 2013.

In reply to Doctor Phillip Weston (msg # 26):

Molly grins at the doctor and John-Marc.  "I can recommend a good newspaper to read inbetween times."  She then nods to the two people and goes back to eating, chuckling at her own words for everybody should know she meant her uncle's paper.

JM nods at the Count's description.  "He sounds like a trustworthy and useful man.  It has been years since I was in Cairo during the War.  My experiences in the town were more focused on the bars and other entertainment so it might be best to have a local guide who can lead us to the more serious locations."  He checks the invitation.  "I think it is settled that we should go to meet this gentleman."

"I would prepare for rugged country Doctor.  We will be far from the comforts of home and may have to travel in the desert or countryside."

He smiles at Molly as she eats.  "You mean the paper with the crack reportress?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 28):

Molly smiled at John-Marc and rewarded him with a wink.  "I do believe that they have an excellent reporting personnel.  Including some with a high fashion sense."

Elsewhere, in Woking, SW of London, Imam Muhammad al-Nasir poured tea for his guest.

"It is a strange tale indeed, my friend, involving this Count Bathony you seek at tonight's book launch. For I believe Allah delivered he and his associates to us, that they might help recover those who were taken by the most foulest infidels, and bring them to justice. And so that has come to pass a week ago.

"The Count and his companions took matters into their own hands, delivering Allah's swift judgement without mercy on the group of infidels who worshipped the pagan Black Pharaoh, and also called themselves "Black Brotherhood"."

Alexander was vaguely familiar with this supposed ruler of ancient Egypt, who's identity was shrouded in mist and uncertainty. It was said by the ignorant that the Black Pharaoh was not really a man, but a god. An evil spirit, then, as here are no gods except for God. (And Mohammed is His prophet, a thousand blessings be upon his name.)

"How do I know this story? A few days ago, one of the friends of the Count, a Professor Ralph Fulty of America, spoke to me and imparted some details. We had become good friends, you see. All of this I must ask you to swear you will not reveal to any improper parties!

"The story does not truly begin here in London, although the part I am familar with does. Many of the "forgotten" in society, along with some of the faithful, went missing over the last few years, it was known they were killed although not all their bodies were recovered for proper burial. All were associated with the Blue Pyramid club in the wicked Soho quarter of London, a place popular with the less devout of our people and other foreigners, mostly from the Orient. Someone called the "Soho Slayer", according to the London Scoop and Miss Molly Fuller, was suspected of being the killer, but this was a ruse. It was really the Black Brotherhood. The leader was Edward Gavigan, head of the respected Penhew Foundation. His foul dog, Tewfik al-Sayid, undertook his dirty work. The police, save one or two, were of no help. Those that looked too close feared for their lives, even police."

The names Tewfik al-Sayid and Gavigan did not ring any bells for him at that time, but the Penhew Foundation did. They were located in London and had organised and undertaken some expeditions to uncover Egypt's lost treasures over the years. Their last expedition had ended in failure and death. The Carlyle Expedition had arrived in Egypt in 1919, made little progress, in a couple months left on a side trip to Kenya where they were killed to a man by natives who were then dealt with by the Colonial authorities.

Sir Aubrey Penhew disappeared, along with the rich playboy Roger Carlyle. Several others, British and American, disappeared as well, presumed dead.

"This cult had been kidnapping people for many years and sacrificing them to their blasphemous Dark Pharaoh. The unwanted, the unnoticed, the forgotten. The foreigners, like us. This Black Brotherhood was very well connected in the police and government, and the first Detective Inspector on the "Soho Slayer" case disappeared, a victim of the Brotherhood. And so the next police Inspector, Barrington, used our friends to carry out his investigation... outside a law that does not protect the likes of us. He persuaded Detective Sergeant Darlington to watch over them and provide unofficial assistance.

"Once they were certain that Gavigan and Tewfik were part of the Brotherhood, our friends investigated Tewfik's spice shop. They did not find much, but later, along with Detective Sergeant Darlington, they investigated the Penhew Foundation. In the basement they found documents linking London to Shanghai and Melbourne. Shipping only God knows what and for what purposes. It was also made certain that Gavigan had taken over the Foundation's assets. And Penhew had left his considerable wealth and resources to the Foundation. Buildings, properties, even a steam motor-yacht.

"The Detective Sergeant puzzled out the pattern of sacrifices and rituals, blood sacrifice and unholy rituals, these were being practiced at the New Moon.

"Using the probate papers kept in London, they traced Gavigan and the Penhew Foundation's ownership to a warehouse on the waterfront, and with police help raided it, discovering a stockpile of weapons left over from the war, hashish, opium, morphine and other contraband, and clothing and articles belonging to victims of the Brotherhood. From the warehouse they discovered a ship, the Ivory Wind, that the Brotherhood used to transport goods around the world to Shanghai, China, and Port Darwin, Australia. The captain and crew of the Ivory Wind are still being held by police, to my knowledge, along with the warehousemen.

"Finally, it was discovered that the Black Brotherhood used Penhew's mansion near Harwich and Colchester, al Misr House for their rituals. Yes, named by some frivolous Englishman after our own Egypt! Two of our flock, Ai'Yesha and Rashid Ka'im Basara, had been kidnapped, along with some of the investigators. The others, along with Faruk and Haji (Egyptians who served with the British Army, and members of the Mosque's congregation), attacked the estate to rescue their friends and the members of our flock. They killed the cultists, including Gavigan, and burned this to the ground. Two blasphemous monsters were also killed, the size of elephants, but they flew! Faruk and Haji both swear to this upon the Prophet. These abominations are now dead, praise Allah. Tewfik escaped, may he be cursed a thousand times.

"So. It is a strange story this Count has to tell. But it is all true, as both Ai'Yesha and Rashid swear. They are safe, and they thank these brave souls who rescued them, but not without great cost. Several of their friends perished. But the truth of this has been obscured so that attention is not drawn to these deeds."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:41, Fri 05 July 2013.

In reply to Imam Muhammad al-Nasir (msg # 30):

At the first mention of the Black Pharaoh, Alexander Hussein Mahfouz, Iskander or Isky to his friends, put down his chai na'na and didn't touch it again.

Dressed in a western suit of impeccable cut, it was nevertheless easy to see that the man shared a similar heritage with the Iman. Furthermore his arabic, when he replied, was that of a native Egyptian.

"My esteemed, learned and respected friend, as this tale has come from your lips, then it can not be a lie, but...." and here the dark haired man stops for a moment, his shocked and slightly incredulous brown eyes, searching the older man's face.

"Are you certain?

I mean cults, I can understand...." and here he waves a beautifully manicured hand dismissively. "Cairo abounds with rumours of strange ancient rites and the people who enact them, and for it to be true, well an educated man can accept that. But, monsters the size of elephants....That fly?"

Alexander laughs,

"These people you talk of, the Count I know, but his friends, I mean are they sane? Has what they saw previously twisted their minds? There are no such things as flying elephants. Please excuse my bluntness, for I wish you no disrespect Iman.

The two members of your flock, Ai'Yesha and Rashid Ka'im Basara I think you said their names were. You trust their account? They too saw these creatures of the imagination?"

Now the chai is raised and tasted briefly, before being returned to the metal stand.

"And...

What do you think the Count want from me exactly?"

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 31):

The Imam shuddered, and gathered himself.

"If these people are insane, then I am as well, for I saw them with my own eyes. As are Faruk, Hajib, Ai'yesha and Rashid. Truly, it is only my faith that stops my mind from shattering with terror. Could they have been fabricated somehow? Yes, I suppose. If someone had gone to the trouble of attaching the head of a horse to a dead elephant, as well as false wings. I did not have the chance, nor really the desire to conduct a medical examination before they were towed out into the water and disposed of. Perhaps they will wash ashore some day, to be marvelled at as small whales or perhaps deep sea squids or octopuses.

"As for what the Count might want, Professor Fulty mentioned they will be travelling to Egypt. He may fill you in himself when given the chance. If God wills, we will see him tonight."
This message was last updated by the GM at 10:53, Sat 06 July 2013.

In reply to mam Muhammad al-Nasir (msg # 32):

"Forgive me, I did not mean to doubt you. I did not understand that you were present too."

Alexander studies the Imam for a moment, his eyes giving away nothing.

"Strange times indeed.... And now they wish to go to Egypt. Mmmmm."

A spoon rattles in a near empty glass.

"This Tewfik al-Sayid, he is still alive, yes? I do not recognise the name, perhaps you can tell me more about him? I will send a telegram back home immediately, to see what my contacts can find out about him.

This blasphemy must be stopped. Do the authorities know of what has transpired? I have not seen anything in the newspapers....."

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 33):

"Forgive me, I do not wish to remember that which I have seen with mine own eyes. Some things it is best to forget, and trust in Allah, the Lord of Worlds, the Beneficent, the Merciful. God will see all and remember all when we cannot.

"The authorities were corrupted by the cultists, who were rich and powerful. They were able to conceal their crimes for so long it was thought that they could not be brought to justice. And so with the help of friends of our own, or rather the investigators, the deaths of the cultists was blamed on Tewfik, who indeed remains a free man, yet now is hunted throughout the Empire of the British. News of this affair is such a scandal that it is of no surprise that the authorities, having turned a blind eye to the evils of these cultists, would again do so to make the problem go away."

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 29):

Darlington coughed.

"Oi fink there's somefink you should see. It's from Detective Inspector Barrington. Dey found it in da ware'ouse. In da articles what was taken from da disappeared, yeah?"

He pulled out a detective's copper badge for the Metropolitan police service in a holder. The ID card was made out to Detective Inspector David Mulligan, London Metropolitan CID.

"Blimey. Dis is da badge what belonged to Barrinton's predecessor, 'o as been missing and feared dead. Naow we know wot 'appened to 'im, poor soul. Rest in peace, Detective Inspector Mulligan. Even if dey catches that devvil bastard Tewfik, dere won't be naow trial. Too embarrassin', innit? But looks like Barrington is going to be promoted to Chief Inspector, and Oi will finally make Inspectir, what Oi've wanted for years."

Darlington looked uncomfortable. "I almost want to take some time off, come with you. But Oi worked too 'ard to pass dis chance. But daon't think I won't miss you lot!"

In reply to Imam Muhammad al-Nasir (msg # 34):

Alexander steeples his fingers and thinks for a while.

"There is a man back at home, a badawī, who during my childhood would terrify me with stories of al-jinn and other fearsome spirits of the wastes. As you well know, the Sūrat al-Jinn, 72nd sura of the Quran, talks of these monsters and how they recant their evil beliefs and venerate Muhammad, blessed be his name.

I shall draw strength from this and shall on my return to Cairo pay my respects to Dhul-Nun al-Misri, may he rest in peace.

Imam, I will not lie to you, for what you have told me today has shocked me. To think that these things occur in the land of my father. And now you tell me that one of these evil men has returned to our home, possibly to perform more despicable acts."

He shakes his head.

"I had expected tonight to be a night of education and celebration of a great man, my friend. But now I have a heavy heart indeed. No matter, I have spent my adult life fighting for what I believe in and my parents would expect nothing less.

He pauses...

From what you have indicated, that though horrifying, these events are not common knowledge, so until I speak with the Count and his friends I shall not mention it any others."

Alexander takes out a pocket watch, stands and bows once in farewell

"It grows late. Thank you my friend, I must go and prepare myself for the book launch."

Reaching the door, he turns and adds

"It seems that I shall be going home...Insha'Allah."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:19, Mon 08 July 2013.

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 36):

The Imam nodded in approval of Alexander's intimate and thorough knowledge of the Qur'an. "Such is the word of God as written by His prophet, a thousand blessings be upon him.

"Bismillah! We will have a good time tonight. It is a long trip from Woking to London, and we have a train to catch."

There was little time for further small talk, as the motor taxi had arrived at the Mosque's ornate front gate. It was to bring them to Woking station and the Southern Railway train (formerly known as the London and Soutwest Railway as of only a few years ago).
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:22, Mon 08 July 2013.

After dinner, Molly made her excuses and retired to her room.  She had another article to write and it was niggling at her brain.  Since it was unladylike to scratch her brain like some fool with lice, she figured she had better let the words out on paper and see if she could shock her uncle yet once again.

Soon the clacking of the typewriter keys could be heard.

Boarding the train from Woking to London, Alexander found a discarded newspaper on one carriage seat. It was the London Post, dated that day:


This message was last edited by the GM at 07:27, Sun 07 July 2013.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 39):

"The Dark Mistress eh?"

Alexander puts down the paper and stares out of the window for a while, before taking out a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket.

He begins to write out a telegram for his associates back at home, asking that the yacht and a certain Tewfik al-Sayid be watched out for.

One for Salim bin Kabina at his home, one for a contact in the police and, well it never harmed to ask his friends in Alexandria now did it? A yacht's first port of call.....

Thinking of Alexandria made him smile. Alexandria.....Where he'd first met his wife Alena Benakis, tobacco heiress and mother of his two children.

From his notebook comes a photograph of his family, now worn about the edges from it's daily handling.

He stares at it until the train pulls into London.

Molly had managed to finish her article for the Scoop in time to make the late edition.  Molly opened it up and read to see if Editorial had changed it much.

Taking a sip of her tea she opened up the paper.



------------------

Open Your Eyes!

Many legal and business systems take votes and
if the “Ayes” outnumber the “Nays” then it is
approved.  I  borrow   from   those  esteemed
 individuals and ask that you keep your eyes
and mind wide open while you read this article
today.  At the end, perhaps the “Ayes”   shall
carry  the  day  and  enlightenment  shall  be
gained.

Once  again  I need to remind  you,  my  loyal
readers,  to be careful  when you are out  and
about.  We are in an  age where  superstitions
meet  modern marvels and who shall win in  the
final battle is yet to be determined.   I like
to  think myself  as  a woman who has  stepped
onto  the ladder of modernity and is  climbing
up.  Still I find myself shuddering at  things
that  go bump in the night as well as  reading
the news  that the Dark Mistress  was lost and  no
survivors found.  Personally, I would not have
named a ship Dark Mistress in the first  place
nor  would I have signed on as crew.   I might
even  as go as far as saying I would miss  the
outing  that day in favor of buying a new  hat
on sale.  Really any excuse not to sail with a
Dark Mistress!

In  all fairness, Scotland Yard and the police
did  all  they could  to  try and recover  the
people  and  my  sympathies  go out to   their
families.   While   no   suspects  have   been
apprehended  yet,  there  was  one name   that
caught  my eye…Tewfik al-Sayid.  Is that   all
Scotland  Yard is looking  at him for?  I seem
to  remember  that the  Soho Slayer  is  still
free.  Could  Twefik al-Sayid be an  associate
of the Soho Slayer?  Could he even BE the Soho
Slayer?  While  not  all the circumstances  of
the  demise of the Dark Mistress are the  same
 as   the  Soho  slayings,  there ARE   some
commonalities.   Shall I recount them for you?

1.	Most  of  the  Slayer’s  victims  were
poor, foreigners and/or addicts.       I’m not
sure what the wage for ship hands but I would
hazard   to say that  they  are not   properly
compensated    for  all  their  hard    work.
Foreigners are also often found as ship  hands
since they might be working off their passage.
I am not sure about addicts, since I do not
run  in those  circles,  but I can  guess that
international countries such as the orient and
Egypt  do a good trade in herbs, tobacco  and
drugs.  Does Mr. al-Sayid’s name sound foreign
to you?

2.	Some   of t he  Slayer’s  victims were
 travelers without documentation.  Once  again
look at point number one.  What better way to
 come over than as working passage and save up
for  your  documentation later.  Once again  I
cannot comment on Mr. al-Sayid’s documentation
but it does make one wonder at times.  Even if
   he does have proper documentation, which
rumour has it can be bought for a proper price,
does he have access to people who are without
documentation?

3.	Almost all of   the Slayer’s   victims
deaths were deemed traffic/rail/boat-related
accidental deaths.

4.	Each of the Slayer’s victims had been
missing  for  8-10 days and then  found.  The
     Dark   Mistress had been missing   for
approximately  a week and then  found.  What
exactly  was Mr. al-Sayid’s association  with
the Dark Mistress?  Was she HIS Dark Mistress?

Perhaps it is just coincidences.  Just like it
 might  be a  coincidence  that Mr.  Gavigan’s
ship AND home were destroyed on the exact same
day.  Just like it might be a coincidence that
the  Dark Mistress' destruction was accidental
even though she departed on calm waters and no
distress flares were ever reported.  Just like
it could be a coincidence that Twefik al-Sayid
is a foreigner and just merely being looked at
in an on-going investigation which the police
cannot comment on until it is over.

I  leave it up to  you, my most brilliant  and
loyal readers, with your eyes wide open is it
  an “Aye” or Nay”  to  coincidences  between
Twefik al-Sayid and the Soho Slayings and the
latest of tragedies to strike.

This message was last edited by the GM at 20:22, Sun 07 July 2013.

Lowther Lodge, South Kensington, London.

Alexander Hussein Mahfouz, dressed in the uniform of a Captain in the Somaliland Camel Corp, stood on the front step of the Royal Geographical Society greeting the guests as they arrived.

Tonight was the end of several weeks work, helping his best friend and fellow explorer Ahmed Hassanein, to promote his book "The Lost Oasis", which detailing their expedition through Egypt, Libya and the Sudan, ultimately opened new Saharan routes from Kufra to Sudanic Africa.

"Ah Mr Rodd a pleasure to meet you again, this time so far from Cairo....Please go in. The reading will take place upstairs in the Council rooms....Yes, as well as the reading there will be a short film, slides too and from what I hear a most pleasant supper afterwards."

Ahmed Hassanein was currently in New York fulfilling commitments there, leaving London to his companion. London...A second home? No, but a city that was the home to one part of his family, albeit one that did not publicly acknowledge their dark skinned secret.

Alexander suddenly stands up straight and salutes, as Percy Cox, Major General (retired) and one time High Commissioner of Iraq and Iran arrived.

"Ah Captain...A pleasure indeed, heard much about you" and squinting at Alexander's campaign ribbons he continues "Somaliland eh? Mentioned in Dispatches I see. Had a devil of a time there myself...Took me six weeks in '95 to defeat the Red Hared clan. Tough lot....Anyways carry on.....I believe it's the Council rooms tonight and probably some rotten food afterwards... My Goodness is that Gertie?"

And so it goes, with cars depositing their learned guests one by one, coats removed, and in the main hall drinks are served whilst waiting for the call to move upstairs.

Alexander found himself in the vestibule for a moment, glass in hand, talking to a Professor Lawrence Stamp, who had recently returned from Rangoon and knew his father. Alex introduced him to the Imam and then turned as another car arrived....

The door to Dr. Weston's Silver Ghost town car was held open by a cleaned-up Darragh, dressed as a chauffeur.

"Ere yer are, gentlemen! safe an' soun'."
This message was last updated by the GM at 12:34, Wed 10 July 2013.

As Molly waited for the door to be opened so she could go into the infamous Royal Geographical Society social, she grinned.  She had been tempted to wear more traditional female trappings on such an occasion but then decided to be true to herself.  She was wearing silk pin stripe pans and blazer tonight with a matching black hat.  Molly did dress up a bit more than usual tonight for she wanted to see Gertrude Bell. Her stitck pin tonight was a jaunty natural pearl and diamond aigrette pin with Heron feathers on it.



She had inherited the pin and didn't wear it often but tonight was, after all, a special occasion.  Her black tie, was held sedately in place with a diamond and ruby clip brooch.  She had fallen in love with the brooch and it looked so much better on her than it did in the store.



Armed with confidence in her ability to deal with people and dressed in her finery, Molly stepped out of the vehicle when she heard the door open.

The Count had ridden up the front with the driver so he was able to exit the car as soon as it stopped. He jumps out dressed in his silk lavender suit, top hat and carrying his cane, opening the door he spots Alexander in the vestibule. he gives him a wave as everyone exits and then leads the way up the stairs.

"Good evening Mr Mahfouz how very good to see you again."

"Let me introduce My friends. Miss Holloway, Miss Fuller, Dr Weston and Mr Falcon. Mr Perkins sends his regrets but he has had a bereavement in the family is is not up to mixed company."

"So have you had a good tour so far, at least the weather has been on your side."

JM stepped out of the car opposite Molly.  He'd come along for proprieties sake to act as an escort to the evening's events.  He was dressed in the uniform of the Royal Flying Corps with his decorations from the Great War prominent on his breast.  JM held out an arm for Molly and smiled at her. "You are looking dashing tonight, in rare form I think Miss Fuller."

At the sight of the Count and the others he nodded.  "Count, good to see you again sir.  As well miss Holloway, Dr. Weston."

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 45):

"Ah my dear Count it is truly a pleasure to see you again and thank you for coming. Yes the tour has been productive, though I can not say the same about the weather. You must excuse the military attire tonight, for I find that certain people will happily focus on that more than what is behind the cloth so to speak."

Alexander beams happily at his guests, though there is something else glimpsed momentarily behind his eyes. A studied look of appraisal which he runs over each person as he greets them.

"Doctor a pleasure.....Ladies, Captain Mahfouz at your service, so glad that you could come.....Flight lieutenant, an honour, I hope you will find tonight as interesting as I have found the exploits of you and your companions to be. I fear that is unlikely though, as our expedition lacked, how shall I put it? The quite extraordinary events that you have all faced.....Come, come, there is time for a drink and introductions."

Alexander escorts his guests inside, where they are met by a babble of voices filling the main hall, glasses chink and several people burst into laughter where they stand next to a spinning globe of the world. The room is filled predominantly with old men, but several distinguished female guests dot the room, as well as a handful of well dressed wives.

"Miss Fuller I think I shall have to introduce you to a dear friend of mine, Miss Bell and of course Flight lieutenant, Major General Cox is here and I told him that you were coming. He's retired as you know, but would, I know, love to talk of old times in the Levant.

Ah Imam, Look your friends have arrived."

Alexander then ensures that drinks are served, introductions to other guests are made where needed, and then turns his attention to those still free to talk.

"Excuse my bluntness, for shortly we will need to go upstairs and I shall  be otherwise disposed, but let me tell you that the Imam has told me of your.....Ahem....Exploits, and the problems that you now face. I am interested to say the least, so I have secured a private room for us here tonight, to discuss what I can offer you in ways of help...."

The uniformed man, a serious look on his face, then holds up his drink and proposes a toast, first patting the Imam's arm and saying in Arabic "Do not look so serious, it is water in my glass."

"To new friends."

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 47):

The Imam was present and nodded in agreement. "A fantastic tale. For another time, of course."

When Alexander proposed a toast the Imam frowned, then smiled at his friend's joke. "Water, yes of course! To new friends."

Disembarking from the car, Dr Weston headed in with the others, and entered into the joviality and greetings - a pleasant reprise from all the recent events. "Good to see you, Falcon. I am certainly looking forward to the evening's entertainments."

Molly smiled up at John-Marc and took his arm.  "Thank you sir.  You are looking quite dashing yourself tonight."

She then got tied up with greeting everybody else.  When Alexander Mahfouz mentioned about introducing her to Miss Bell, Molly clapped her hands together and nodded.  "I will admit that the thought of meeting Miss Bell was upon my mind but to know that it will be arranged is marvelous."

JM smiled down at Molly and gallantly escorted her into the room.  "Thank you miss Fuller.  It is a pleasure to escort you tonight."

He nodded to Dr. Weston.  "And you as well Doctor, it seems our host is well informed and quite interesting."

JM smiled and shook hands with Alexander.  "It is certainly a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mahfouz.  I have read your book and greatly admire your exploits."  He narrows his eyes at Alexander's hints of knowing their own exploits but says nothing.  "Oh, Major General Cox?  Yes, a fine officer.  I was only a subaltern but his reputation proceeds him.  I would be delighted to reminisce with him."

His eyes narrow further at a more explicit mention of their exploits but relaxes as he sees the Imam.  The religious leader is certainly trustworthy and a solid ally.  He takes the glass and raises it in toast.  "To new friends." JM continues briefly.  "Certainly we would enjoy further discussion on the topic of our travels."

"Ah thank you Flight Lieutenant, you are most kind, though I must point out that I am but the Author's friend, who accompanied him on his expedition. All the praise must be left at his worthy feet, not mine. Hassanein Effendi is currently in New York fulfilling book obligations there, whilst I, his humble servant, do so here."

Alexander, placing his glass on a passing tray, then bows to his guests

"If you would be so kind as to follow me" and he indicates the nearby stairs "I will be showing a short film and then slides to accompany the reading. I will be of course available to answer questions before we all sit down for a late supper".

Then gathering up the rest of those present, Alexander leads the way upstairs to a chair filled room. Charts adorn the walls, as do paintings of far flung locations, often dreamt off but rarely visited.

Lights are dimmed, as places are taken and then for the next hour the room is filled with the whirr and clack of both film and slide projector, with the calm and well educated voice of Alexander describing the 2,200-mile journey across the untraversed Libyan desert.

Images of near naked tribals and ancient carvings are splashed across a screen, drawing a buzz of polite conversation from the already biased guests. Finally, after portions of the book have been read, questions answered and jokes made, the throng sits for supper in an adjoining room.

It is when guests begin to leave that Alexander approaches the Count and his companions once more

"Please the smoking room has been made available for us....This way."

The door is closed, the fire stoked and with brandies poured, the Egyptian hands around a box of cigarettes

"My wife's family's brand. I do hope you like them...."

Then, with one arm leaning on the mantlepiece, the Captain opens a hand and gestures at the party

"So, I am to understand that I may be of some assistance to you?

Before we start, perhaps I should explain what it is I do...As you may be aware I am a man of two worlds. With one foot in the West and with one foot in the East. I have friends in powerful places and this enables me to...How shall I put it?...Facilitate the wishes of people who need things done.

In Cairo, I help those who wish to visit the interior of my country by outfitting their expeditions and dealing with the paperwork that would ruin an otherwise enjoyable trip. I can also help those who wish to live in Cairo for a while and to smooth their arrival in to the country".

He pauses for a moment

"I can provide what ever your heart desires.

People look the other way when I ask them too. Favours, reputation and of course money....Everything is possible with money.

I am sorry to be so blunt, but from what the Imam has told me these are blunt times."

Cynthia also arrives in the ghost, escorted by the Count if he has no issues.

She asks some questions following the presentation about the environs and hospitality of the natives; while she's been to Egypt before, it was primarily limited to Cairo, and the Bedouin in their domain are a new experience for her.

Once the initial guests cleared, Cynthia follows the group into the smoking room.

"Captain Mahfouz, before we discuss money, I'd like to know some more about you, personally. More specifically, your values. Are you a man of God? Are you sure of the state of your soul? I don't mean this in the abstract. My companions and I are, well, fringe in our pursuits, and sometimes we run significant risks. We can afford neither cowards nor thieves.

"I ask that you please answer honestly. We do intend to hire your services for planning our trip to Cairo. But once we arrive, you will need to decide for yourself how much you're willing to risk."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 53):

"A man of God?"

Alexander is surprised by the question and looks to his Imam for support.

"Why yes, if you mean do I pray and follow the Koran. But I am also a modern man, who accepts science and all that that entails."

He takes a long pull on his cigarette before throwing it in the fire, giving his questioner a hard glance.

"But the state of my soul is for Allah, Subhana Wa Taala, to decide."

 He pauses for a moment to consider the lady's question once more.

"As for bravery? Well, my medals should speak for themselves. I am no stranger to danger having fought for many years in Africa, eventually helping to defeat  Mohammed Abdullah Hassan and his Dervish army in British Somaliland. Not the horrors of the trenches for sure, but you are not looking for a wallower in mud, but someone who knows the deserts and understands the beating heart of Maṣr itself. As for being a thief?" and here he laughs "You will have to be the judge of that Miss Holloway."

The man's eyes flash with warmth for a moment before returning to their previous seriousness.

"I am a family man, one who has had to work hard to get where I am. Battling two very different culture's prejudices is no easy task. I value hard work, justice and democratic freedom and above all else I love my country and will not let anyone do anything to destroy her or her people. My people."

The Captain hitches up his trousers and takes a vacant seat.

"Your family ... wife and children? People who would suffer for your absence?"

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 55):

Alexander's eyebrow goes up at this question, and he fidgets slightly whilst giving the Imam a look.

"My absence Miss Hollaway? I take it you are referring to my death?"

The Imam gets another look.

"No more than if I was to perish at war Miss Holloway, and If you are trying to scare me it is not working. Every time i mount a camel and ride in to the interior, whether in uniform or in the garb of a guide, my family knows that I may not return. Three years they knew that I faced death daily."

He waves his hand dismissively, and from his manner it is quite obvious that the line of questioning has now overstepped a mark.

The Count enjoyed being back at Lowther Lodge, at various times the place had seemed to be a second home. The hotel he stayed at when he first arrived was just further down the road and he had taken advantage of it's proximity.

During the presentation the Count was somewhat distracted. It was strange to be back living normally after what they had seen and experienced. The Count shrugged it off as just a feeling and that it would pass.

Once they moved to the smoking room the Count sat as Alexander made his case for the group to hire him. He was somewhat surprised at his reaction to Miss Holloway's line of questions. He leaned over to Miss Fuller;

"Show him the photographs"

"Photographs?"  Alexander's interest is piqued "Of what may I ask?"

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 58):

Molly looked at her companions and then nodded.  She had made small photographs, for ease of carry, and pulled them out of her evening bag.  "Forgive the fact that they are rumpled a bit.  Sit down when you look at these sir and prepare yourself.  Even those in war pale when they see this topic."

Molly finally handed Alexander the pictures and watched his reaction to them.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 59):

Alexander accepted the handful of photographs, conscious that all eyes where on him. Straightening them out, he glanced at the first one and with a smile held it up to the group.

It was one of Miss Holloway examining something on her lap.

"I'm no art critic but you have the eye of a good portrait taker Miss Fuller."

Then over the next few photographs his grin begins to falter, and the man shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

He mutters once inaudibly, though the words "Misr" and "Pharaoh" are heard to those sitting close.

"This is at the mansion, yes?" he asks, suddenly sitting up straight.

"Where....Well the Imam said that you saw beasts that flew?"

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 60):

Molly muttered something like "Why thank you sir" when he complimented her on the pictures.  Of course she knew that the worst of the pictures were yet to come.

She put her hand on his shoulder, thinking that he might be starting to stand up, when he saw the mansion pictures.  "We should have, perhaps, explained more?  I must admit that you are taking it better than I thought you would sir."

Alexander continues examining the pictures, until he arrives at....

"Are those bodies, and what....is....that?" He looks up at Miss Fuller, a confused look on his face. "The large shadow bending over them...is that the creature?"

His voice trails off as he spies the next photograph underneath and the next. He stares at each one, holding them up to get better light. His face pales.

"SubhanAllah...They...It...These are not of our world....Imam?" A photograph is held out to the Imam to see for himself.

Slowly the Captain's face changes from one of shock to one of resolve, as he tidies up the pile and hands them back to Miss Fuller. He is silent for a while as he stares at the wall and then the fireplace. Finally he speaks, his voice shaky at first, but then becoming stronger with every word. Those present can tell that he is furious.

"This man Tewfik al-Sayid, he is the reason you wish to go to my country? He is responsible for these....abominations, correct? If so, you have the use of my services, I shall waive my fee. There is no way that I can allow a man such as he to walk the sands of my country.

Will you let me help you?"

He reaches out for his glass, which does not shake as he drinks.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:26, Sun 14 July 2013.

The Doctor looks at the photographs, and in spite of the poor quality and blurring, he knows something of the horrible realities they have captured.  With a slight tremor in his voice, "They are aweful, I say, aweful.  I have read of them in some of the darker nights of my studies.  They are known in some foul unearthly tongue as the Shan Taeks, servitors to the foul madness at the center of the universe," he stops for a moment, before spitting forth almost - "Azathoth."

The Count watched Alexander Mahfouz reaction to viewing the photographs. It was not so much the effect of the contents of the photographs, he knew what the effects would be, but the realisation of what they faced he wished to observe.

"So as you can see we do not face some disillusion cultists praying to imaginary gods. No these men and women can pull the nightmares into our world."

"As to Tewfik al-Sayid I believe him to be dead. One of the members of the group that attacked the manor saw him gravely wounded and unconscious. We tracked him to the edge of the estate but then lost him and his helper."

"The last thing to consider is that we travel to the home of the cult in Egypt. I would think it unlikely we will be able to destroy them or even rattle their cage. That means your family will be in danger and so will you for a very long time. We have already lost many friends and family members in this endeavour"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Mon 15 July 2013.

Molly nodded as the Count talked and then looked over at their new friends.  "While I appreciate any help you might give us, I do want to stress that safety cannot be guaranteed.  People will not believe what you know is true and your family and friends will be in danger.  Your body and soul will be in danger."

She then paused, whether it was dramatic effect or out of pure concern was hard to say.

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 62):

The Imam nodded.

"Yes, these are real. They are demons, efrit, sent to do the bidding of the Black Brotherhood.

"This infidel, Tewfik, he is but the servant of a demon lord, the accursed Dark Pharaoh that our people do not speak of."

Captain Mahfouz listens to the Doctor speak, but understands nothing of what he says, the words uttered being meaningless to the Egyptian.

Shan Taeks...Azathoth.....Does he mean Thoth? he thinks.

After the Count, Miss Fuller and the Imam have spoken, the Captain continues, his anger abated, having been taken over by a cool professionalism.

"Okay. I think we can safely say that though I may not understand the exact form of the dangers to be faced , that I do now understand that I will be facing both mental and physical danger. One that could lead to mine and my family's death. So be it. You may think that I am not taking this seriously enough, but I am. Since Independence my country has become a dangerous place for one such as I and for my family too,and because of this I have safe guards in place for our protection. If it is as bad as you say, then I shall send them to their family abroad, until your....Our...Business is concluded. And Miss Fuller though your concern is flattering, my wife is a strong woman and will accept what I tell her. It is not the first time she has watched her husband ride off to his possible demise, or faced her own dangers. Cairo can be a dangerous place....

Anyway enough of the drama. I thank you all for your candour and if anything the horrors you have mentioned have steeled my reserve.

So, please tell me how I can be of assistance?"

"We'll need a guide in the country, likely through the Nile valley and on into Kenya. There's a 'Mountain of the Black Winds' which features frequently in the evidence we've found so far. We'll need to be able to travel without alerting those who may be looking for us, which I suspect means we'll be avoinding the common roads where feasible. I believe Mr. Falcon will be arranging travel to Egypt and we may have use of his vehicle once we arrive.

"Regarding payment ... you are welcome to forego your own costs, of course. But we have a budget for this, and it will be put into a trust to be released to your family, should it become necessary. On your return, you may disperse the funds to whichever cause you feel could most benefit from it. We must fight evil on every front."

She softens for a moment from her rigid, business demeanor.

"You probably do want to move your family somewhere safe. Tefwik and his breed are brigands of the worst sort. They won't hesitate to hurt those around you if they think it will stop you."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 68):

"Wonderful, thank you Miss Holloway. The Count here seems to think this Tefwilk is already dead, so perhaps we shall not have to worry about him at all. But yes I shall protect my family by sending them abroad. Though I think you will be surprised when you get to Cairo to see exactly the amount of influence I have there, both official and unofficial."

Alexander bows his head at the lady and then continues.

A guide I can be, though I'm presuming that if you have a plane you shall want to fly straight to kenya when your work is done in Egypt. Otherwise it is train, boat and automobile if you wish to go overland to Kenya. Though we can go by sea.

And the delicate matter of money, yes.... It is good you have funds, because though I will be gratis, unfortunately many things will not be so...

My home in Cairo is spacious enough to house all of you and is located in Gezirat Boulaq, an island on the Nile and very close to the Museum, library, university and many of the various clubs. Some of which I can gain you membership off. My cars will be put at your disposal and I shall provide drivers and guards when necessary.

If this is not to your liking I can arrange suites at the Shepheard Hotel for a reduced price.

All paperwork will be smoothed over for your trip, though this will need funds to help speed the process up. You will fly, yes? This can be done with little fanfare, but you must inform me of anything that you might not want the authorities to have knowledge of. I have contacts within the military and could arrange for you to land at one of their aerodromes if you so wish.

As for Kenya and the Sudan, I still have many colleagues there from my time in the political service and army, so this will no doubt be useful to you all.

Is there any information that you can give me before we leave, about this cult and where it may be based? Anything would be useful at this stage so that I can get my people ready. They could track down addresses, watch suspects.

Also a list of anything that you may want for me to provide for you.

Do any of you speak Arabic?"

Molly secretly loved Cynthia's father also.  Not in the usual sense but anybody who was willing to throw cash for adventure couldn't be all bad.

Molly shook her head at Alexander.  "I'm afraid that I don't speak the language although this might be a good time to start to learn.  John-Marc is an excellent pilot and I'm sure we could get a plane chartered."

She did perk up at the sound of a gala event being held.  "Oh it does sound like a marvelous idea. Always good to temper the bad with the good.  I'm sure that I will be most happy to play the tourist and snap a ton of photographs.  Perhaps I might even convince Uncle to let me write a travel column.  Assuming that it is not going to be secret.  It could be a very good cover for our exploration too.  Give us reasons to poke our lovely heads into places and snap pictures."

"Yes it might be worth hashing out a few ideas for why you are in Cairo. You can be my guests of course which makes perfect sense, met whilst I have been here and invited back to sample Cairo's hospitality, before venturing forth on a guided tour of the country's sights.

This means I can easily introduce you all to members of society and the government. The downside of this is that you will most certainly be in the papers.

Otherwise, you can be 'Paying customers', a far more private state of affairs. Both have their advantages and disadvantages.

Miss Fuller, I can arrange you access to many of the country's important personages if this will help you. Members of the government, artists, scholars, sportsmen and women, and of course the Royal family if you so wished. Something I might add that without my patronage you would find hard to do. Please forgive me, for as you know Egypt is an Islamic nation and their values are not as enlightened as those of 1925 Great Britain when it comes to women.

Talking of which my wife would be delighted to make both your's and Miss Holloway's acquaintance. Though she too is Egyptian we met at the 1908 olympics, here in London as a matter of fact, as her uncle was representing Greece in the shooting events. She is a....Modern woman to say the least.

Hopefully you will get the chance before she and my children depart Cairo for safer climes."

Alexander smiles at both women present.

It sounds delightful.  I would like to meet with your wife.  I'm sure she would have the most wonderful insight as to how i  will have to dress.  Needless to say, I do not think that most people in your country would tolerate my preferred dress code.  I shall, however, attempt to fit in more so as not to cause too much undue stress upon my delightful host and his family.  I would be most gracious to any and all connections you can manage to make.  As you have no doubt observed, being in the press is something that I grew up around.  I do not think my uncle would recognize me if he didn't see my name here and there."

Molly glanced over at John-Marc and gave him a wink, just because she could.

The Count sat thinking for a moment especially at what the Doctor had said.

We also require permits to carry firearms and to possess automatic weapons. Also are you able to procure weapons and explosives ?

JM speaks up as the arrangements start to solidify.

"Your assistance is greatly appreciated Captain.  I can see that you are a man of both honor and substance.  Please accept our apologies if we have cast any aspersions on either."  He frowns and glances to the Count.  "I would not count on Tefwilk being dead.  Villains such as him seem to have a way of surviving to plague the world again.  In that light it might be best to keep a low profile without skulking about.  Perhaps we might travel under assumed names?"

At the mention of travel he leans forward. "I possess a passenger aircraft that will hold eleven passengers comfortably.  We can fly directly to Egypt.  I suggest we land in a military aerodrome near Cairo rather than the commercial port.  It will make sabotage a bit more difficult if we are traced and attacked." 

JM smiles to Alexander.  "I served in the Levant and Cairo for three years during the War and speak a passable if accented Arabic."

"If you already have weapons that you would like to bring with you, that should be no problem. I can arrange for permits here in London. I shall mention that we are crossing the Sudan to reach Kenya. There are enough Shiftas in both to ensure that there will no problem for us.

I can also procure us weapons once in Cairo if you would prefer, and explosives too. Geological studies, prospecting and archaeology are all good enough reasons, though If a problem, I shall not need to do much convincing with money in my hand."

Alexander smiles at the count

"I also have men in my employ who know how to wield them. Veterans from both the Egyptian and Sudanese army.

Good men and discreet. My foreman Salim bin Kabina, a much respected elder, is in charge of them and I shall alert him that we are expecting trouble. "

Alexander listens to the Flight Lieutenant and replies in plain understandable Arabic

"Wonderful, from now on with your permission, I shall speak to you in my mother tongue. It will be good practise.
Heliopolis Airdrome it is, one no doubt that you will be familiar with. I shall acquire all the necessary paperwork for you and will hire a hanger and your plane will be guarded day and night by British soldiers."

The Captain then swaps back to English, explaining what he just said and that he would be willing to teach people the basics of Arabic if they wanted.

"You are not required to know it, but it may help in the days ahead and using even the most basic words will earn respect when speaking to my men.

Now, assumed names... This can be done. It will be expensive if you wish to fool the authorities, but not too much of a problem if you wish to fool the general populace. Decide on your new names, careers and anything else and I will do the rest.

One final thing is that I suggest that you each make an appointment to visit a Doctor, at the Hospital for Tropical Diseases in Endsleigh Palace Hotel, near Euston station. If my memory serves me well it is number 25 Gordon Street. You will certainly need a supply of Quinine, but the Doctor will give you a valuable lesson in prevention and possible treatments of the various diseases you may come across. Money well spent in my opinion.

Is there anything else?"

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 71):

Professor Fulty laughed. "My Lord, this almost makes me want to join you! Of course, it's the unpleasant parts that I'm afraid would do me in. I recommend something subtle. When we arrived here in London after our voyage from New York, we stayed in the noted Park Lane hotel on Piccadilly. As befit our resources and station. We reasoned being in the public eye would protect us. Little did we know the depths of depravity the Dark Brotherhood would stoop to to protect themselves, although when we learned of the scores of unfortunates that were suspected to be their victims, we should have well guessed!"

Actually, JM had guessed. It was this fear that led him to obtain the run-down house to-let in Barking. When the inevitable attack came, it provided a useful place of refuge for those who were not native to London. JM's contacts among his fellow Free Masons had proved very valuable in arranging the use of the house on such short notice. This was before the Count's building of flats above his bookstore near Charing Cross were ready to receive them.

Fulty continued, making sure they weren't overheard.

"Early in our investigation, we were alerted by the good Detective Sergeant to Tewfik's possible involvement in the Soho Slayings. We got the bright idea to break into his warehouse, looking for evidence. We found some very strange occult materials, like inverted ankhs and a pair of sceptres. Later, we were hard on the heels of that rat, Gavigan, and while we were burgling the Penhew Foundation museum building, I think he sent his dog Tewfik to steal back that which we, ah, stole from him earlier. Plus some tomes we recovered from Roger Carlyle's study in New York. Someone broke into our rooms and took everything occult-related we'd amassed, plus much of our possessions. Tragically, we'd left Howard's manservant Simmons to guard our suites and he was cruelly attacked and murdered in a way the Detective Sergeant confirmed was the mark of the Brotherhood.

"Later, we learned that someone had bribed the switchboard operators to intercept all our telephone calls. Further, one of the bellhops tipped the Brotherhood that we were away, giving them the opportunity to strike, and he left a rear stairwell door open. Poor wretch never got to spend his thirty silver, I guess he got his desserts. Not just Simmons was killed that night, while they were ransacking our rooms and murdering poor Simmons in their foul occult manner the hotel detective, a former Scotland Yard CID man, burst in and tried to apprehend them. They killed him, too, but not ritually."

Shaken by the memory, Fulty refreshed himself with an Old Fashioned. "Dang! It's going to be tough, going back to Milwaukee and America. What with that damned Prohibition in effect. I'm sure it'll be repealed soon, but not soon enough for my tastes."

Alexander takes in this new information and adds

"Are the police aware of what is going on here? If so, have they or the government offered you assistance? You mention a Detective Sergeant...

I have trustworthy friends in the Cairo police, local government, the British government in Egypt and the Army. It would be easy enough for me explain to a select few what has gone on and that we need help or at the least that they turn a blind eye to our investigations. Your choice of course.

When in Cairo staying at my home would be safer all round I feel, as I can have it filled with trusted men at all times."

JM replies in rusty Arabic.  He stumbles over many of the words but manages to make his reply legible.  "Thank you for your hospitality Captain. I am glad that I can return your graciousness by speaking your language.  I fear that my grammar and diction are not quite acceptable in polite society." He nodded; "I would feel most comfortable if my ship is under trustworthy guard.  Not that British troops are incorruptible but hopefully less so than those associated with local cults."

As the professor spoke he listened quietly. "Fake identities would be best and ones that can pass through the authorities as well in the event that the cult is enmeshed in the rulers of the country."

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 77):

"We involved the authorities back in New York. It ended up with many deaths, including Dr. Weston's detective brother James. We were investigating the Kenyan-based Cult of the Bloody Tongue because of Jackson believing there was a connection between M'Weru and Roger Carlyle. The NYPD raided the Ju-Ju house in Harlem. There were... things, there. Many lives were lost, including hostages. That's why we were reluctant to involve outsider authorities, another mass slaughter would put us under the microscope.

"None of the authorities here in London would become involved in the killings of the Dark Brotherhood due to the race and class of the victims. It seems Detective Inspector Barrington feared to openly pursue any investigation of the Brotherood or a connection with Gavigan and or the Soho Slayer killings because his predecessor was already doing so when he disappeared. It was a mark of their power and influence they could act such with seeming impunity.

"Instead, he provided us with an ally of his, Detective Sergeant Darlington, and this man aided considerably in the investigation. Barrington has helped cover up the deaths of the cult members, of which one was a member of parliament, another was a judge. You may have heard of the disappearance of the "Dark Mistress", Gavigan's yacht, last week? This story was his doing to cover up the deaths of several rich and powerful notables. The wrong-doers may never be tried in the courts of law, but they will not have escaped justice. Detective Inspector Barrington gets to keep his life, Detective Sergeant Darlington gets to break open the case by blaming Twefik and will likely move up in the police, and we, of course, shall never speak of what really happened.

"Speaking of justice, there was a local artist, Miles Shipley, who was connected to Gavigan. Lived in Soho, not too far from the Blue Pyramid, from where the Brotherhood's victims were taken. This painter had created some artwork that somehow touched upon our investigation here. Cynthia or Molly could tell you more, I wager. We met him and his creepy mother, and a friend of ours, Phil Webley, went back to investigate further one night. Long story short, Miles was found dead, as was his mother. I was told there was something very, very wrong with her. That she was really a monster! Phil disappeared... to turn up as a sacrifice of Gavigan. Darlington connected the disappearance of a couple prostitutes to the mother-son duo, so they were served ultimate justice."

He finished his Old Fashioned, getting another.

"Really beastly business. Drive a man to drink!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:39, Wed 17 July 2013.

Alexander ran his hand through his hair before opening his cigarette case. He seemed to be thinking...

A cigarette is tapped several times on the back of the case, which then closes with a loud snap.

"Fake identities, means fake passports. This is doable, easier in Cairo, but still doable here. This will cost a great deal of money I am afraid.

If we are pressed for time, then I suggest that you let me get you into the country. There are other places to land a plane, if you are confident in your skill Flight Lieutenant? All your paperwork bar passports will be done here and once in Cairo it will be just a matter of you passing photographs to my contacts. insha'Allah."

A lighter flares briefly and a plume of smoke is shot up to the ceiling.

"Your arrival then will be un-kown to all accept those that you choose to let know.

But

Do not expect to go unnoticed for ever. British intelligence does not sit still, nor does her counterparts within the city. My country is facing dangerous times and is pulled this way and that by a thousand strings. Your actions will determine how long you will be invisible."

Alexander then listens to the Professor, eyes widening at his description of New York and the further adventures in London.

"You are all it seems, lucky to be alive."

"Ah.....When do you plan to leave for Egypt? I had almost forgotten to ask."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:32, Wed 17 July 2013.

Cynthia takes the bottle of brandy and pours herself a finger, then seals the bottle, takes it to the far shelves, and puts it away.

"As soon as feasible. We aren't in a rush, but should news of the fall of the cult in London reach Africa, they may begin preparing themselves against investigation."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 81):

"I think you can expect them to be forewarned if anyone has survived your purge. It takes but a moment to send a telegraph.

Well, depending on what you decide, to travel incognito or for all the world to see, I shall be ready when you are. I had planned to take the Orient express to Turkey, but shall cancel my Ticket.

Tomorrow I will be visiting Gertrude Bell, but can be contacted at this address until you decide to leave or if you have any further wishes or questions. I will of course set in to motion the procuring of all documents immediately, once you have made your final decision of course."

Alexander stands and brushes down his trousers.

"Unless there is anything else to add, I fear I must retire for it has been a long and tiring day. Miss Fuller? Miss Bell asked me to extend her invitation to you also. She said that you and her had much to discuss....An interview I do believe? A rare privilege indeed."

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 82):

Molly sat up straighter and smiled.  "A rare pleasure indeed.  I just hope i remember to ask questions in between my basking in the glow of being in front of such a great person.  It is a good thing that I met you tonight sir.  It is a trial run to make sure that I can handle myself in front of such august personages."

JM listened with appreciation as Alexander spoke.  "If you have some acquaintance with substitute passports Captain then I suggest we go that way.  I would be happy to take you along with us and I can land the aircraft in any reasonable flat field."  He looked at the others; "As for departing I suggest we leave in the next day or so."

Alexander bows

"So be it, I shall set the wheels in motion. Now if that is all, you must excuse me...The room is yours, so feel free to stay and talk.

Count...

Ladies...

Gentlemen..."

The Captain shakes everyone's hands one by one.

"tiSbaH `alal-khair Imam"

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 85):

The Imam did the same, shaking everyone's hands one by one.

"May God go with you and protect you. Ma'a as-salaama, ila-liqaa."

"Thank you for your time Captain, Imam. It's always a pleasure to find brave and honorable people in the world. We'll be in touch."

Cynthia doesn't feel there's much more that needs to be discussed, but she'll stay and chat if that's what people are doing.

JM shakes hands. "Thank you captain.  I will let you know of our detailed arrangements but I think we should leave for Paris and points east in a few days."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 88):

"Wonderful, I shall await your call."

And Alexander with a final bow, departs for a well earned sleep.