Wednesday July 16th 1930, 8:20 PM.

You change to the Newcastle Express at York, then after a discussion with a taxi bureau at Newcastle station, engage a cab to take you to Blenheim House.

Close to sunset, after a bewildering trek through the Northumbrian countryside, you find yourself driving along a bumpy track, following the directions provided by a passing crofter a few miles back. After ten minutes of rolling moorland dotted with herds of sheep and cattle you begin to appreciate the extent of Jonathan's new wealth.

As the driveway crests a low rise you catch site of Blenheim house for the first time, nestling in a shallow valley. The red brick manor seems to glow blood red in the setting sun, giving the estate a distinctly menacing atmosphere. A dry stone wall bisects the drive at this point, and your route is blocked by a heavy iron gate. Your taxi driver, Bill is forced to stop the car, and gets out to open the gate, but it is chained shut and secured by a large padlock.

Bill looks apologetic. "Sorry sirs, can't go any further with the car till we get that gate open".

You get out to stretch your legs and look down at the manor house below, perhaps a quarter of a mile away. The place looks uninhabited and you see no sign of any activity.

You can still discuss the diary in The Reading thread, will not close it for now.

Jonathan looks at the padlock in the twilight, "Doesn't seem very welcoming, does it? George, how hard will it be to break it open with the tools we have?"


He looks down at the house. Are there any lights or smoke or does it seem empty?

The driver opens the boot and pulls out a hefty tyre iron. "Beggin' you pardon, but we could shift it with this sir"

You notice a tiny plume of smoke from the rear chimneys, so evidently someone is home.

In reply to Great Old One (msg #3):

Kit steps out of the car, pulling out a cigarette and a pack of matches. "Maybe if we sent up smoke signals…" he jokes.

He looks he house over, pulls out a notepad and starts sketching it.

As he walks around the front of the car, he tilted his head toward Kit and rolled his eyes at him - all be it with a friendly grin.  And then continued walking over to the gate.

Frowning over Bill’s shoulder, Father Alden says, “It seems such a shame to break in needlessly.  After all, this is all your property now Jonathan.”

 He sighs and looks at the manor house, then back at the iron gate, “I don’t think there is any way they would be able to hear us no matter how hard we yelled, and I don’t think climbing over the fence is a good idea.  We may look like poachers or worse to whomever is in the house.”

“Unless you received a key somewhere in our travels, I suppose the iron may be our best option.”  He frowns and squints at the manor house in the distance.

"That's a thought, though, Father," Jonathan replies, "Driver, lean on the horn a few times and we'll see if we can rouse them, instead of breaking the lock or chain.

"It seems a bit odd to have the gate padlocked. You rarely see a padlocked gate on an estate in America, right, Uncle George? Of course, there's just the two of them way out here, so perhaps it's a wise precaution. I expect tramps or poachers would just scale the wall in some lonely spot. The only ones this keeps out are those arriving by car."

Kit quips, "Maybe they're Luddites, cousin. Or they like their guests to get a bit of exercise."

He ruffles through his pockets, and pulls out an odd-looking key. "Try this. Got this from a fellow I interviewed once for one of my stories. Says it got him out of a jam once or twice."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:18, Sun 04 Mar 2012.

It turns out Kit is the only one with the skill to use the skeleton key. After a minute or two he springs the padlock and hauls open the gate. Back in the taxi, you head off down towards the manor in the dell below, a mournful drive flanked by a stand of windswept yew trees.

Bill pulls up his taxi on the gravel drive in front of the house and starts to unload your cases, as you examine the house with interest. A broad U-shape with two blunt wings, it appears to be a mixture of many different styles, but you remember the oldest parts are over 400 years old. There are several outhouses further along the drive, as well as an old stable block. Just as you are about to approach the imposing front door, a baby-faced, slovenly dressed man appears from around the side of the house and starts walking swiftly towards you, his face a mask of aggression. You notice with alarm he is holding a large axe in one hand...
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:35, Sat 03 Mar 2012.

George smoothly draws the 1911A1 from its shoulder holster and points it at the ground in from of the man [safety still on].

"This is a fine welcome!  This is Lord Deville man!  Drop that before someone gets hurt..."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:34, Sun 04 Mar 2012.

The hulking figure with the axe totally ignores Yate's warning and weapon and advances with an almost comically aggressive mien. Suddenly, an imperious voice rings out.

"Hold Walter!"

The man stops dead in his tracks and you all turn to face the source of the command. Standing just outside the front door, now half ajar, is an old woman, dressed in black. She is short to the point of dwarfism, extremely wrinkled, with wispy grey hair half-covered by a musty old scarf. Despite her evidently advanced age her voice is clear and her ice-blue eyes twinkle with vigour and intelligence.

"Well well, little Jonathan is back... I remember when I used to wipe your baby arse clean. I reckon I'd 'ave 'ad to do it again if I 'adn't turned up to call off Walter".

She cackles madly at her off-colour joke.

Jonathan smiles and advances slowly toward the woman, keeping a corner of his eye on the young man and his axe. He touches George on the arm as he passes him.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," he says in a cheerful voice, "My own memory of those days obviously isn't as keen as yours, Mrs...

"What shall I call you then?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Sun 04 Mar 2012.

George glares at the axeman, slowly replacing his pistol...

Kit, on the other hand, walks right next to his cousin, his eyes narrow.  "Yes, exactly who are you?"