‘Would this friend of yours be a certain Mr. Elias?” asks Gavigan, with an almost imperceptible tone of disdain. “We did speak briefly,” he continues. “He wanted to discuss the work of the Foundation. Mr. Elias said he was collecting background research on the Foundation’s involvement in supporting the Carlyle Expedition. I was of course pleased to talk about the Foundation’s role in grant funding and assistance with arranging travel permits and the like. It was a short meeting and I have not heard from Mr. Elias since.”

“As for the Carlyle expedition…. Well. Mr. Carlyle had obtained information from an African woman concerning a time in Egyptian history about which Sir Aubrey had long been interested. In this ancient time a sorcerer was reputed to have ruled the Nile Valley. Alas, Gavigan smiles, the information proved to be a hoax. In Egypt, the African woman disappeared with the expedition’s ready funds, in the amount of some 3,500 British pounds.”

“We are gentlemen of the world, are we not?” smiles Gavigan. “Carlyle counted the lost money as insignificant, but he was deeply affected by the betrayal from his African lover.”

“After that unfortunate accident, Miss Masters suggested that the group spend the summer months in the relatively cool Kenyan uplands, affording her a wonderful opportunity to use some new lenses to photograph African wildlife. Once there, the group foolishly entered a dubious territory and, alas, paid for it with their lives. The vast share of the expedition’s records was lost in the incident, as Sir Aubrey took them along to work on, while matters were still fresh in his mind.”

“Wherever he is, there they are,” Gavigan concludes.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:51, Fri 14 Sept 2018.

In reply to Edward Gavigan (msg # 18):

Noting Gavigan's tone, Rachel raises an eyebrow and replies rather acerbically, "He died recently, only a few weeks ago. Surely, this foundation has records of any information they come across and fund--did this African woman have a name?"

“Oh dear, my condolences!” replies Gavigan with a furrowed brow. “The woman's name was Nichonka Bunay, as I recall. As for records, most of them concern much about young Carlyle and it would be unethical to show such documents to outsiders. They are private matters unrelated to the work of the expedition. I’m sure you would agree that they are not something I could tolerate getting into the gutter press.”

He goes on to say that the expedition did turn up some interesting artifacts from other periods, and was able to dig a number of test trenches to help continue Sir Aubrey’s systematic study of Dahshur. They also found some secondary sites in the wastes to the west of the Giza pyramids. Some of the artifacts were loaned to the British Museum, while a few of the lesser pieces came to reside here in the Penhew Collection.

Most of the items are still being catalogued for the Egyptian Museum in Cairo; however, Gavigan is eager to show off the “lesser miracles” that were brought to England and offers to show you the exhibition upstairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Fri 14 Sept 2018.

In reply to Edward Gavigan (msg # 20):

Gustav takes a side glance at Ms. Katz and approached calmly at Mr. Gavigan. He then presented his badge in quick succession just enough to show that he is a member of the law enforcement agency but not enough for him to read that it is a police detective badge from New York.

"Look here Mr. Gavigan, I'll give this to you square, Mr. Elias was murdered in cold blood and I have traveled across the globe to make sure that people responsible will be brought to justice. This is an official police investigation and my associates and I are here to know everything we need to know about Mr. Elias' work. It may or may not be related to your foundation but if word got out that your foundation was somehow involved... In a murder no less... I do not think I need to extrapolate further."

"Now I am asking you nicely, show us what we are looking for, and we will be on our way. My associates can be very persuasive yes, but remember, obstruction of justice is punishable by jail-time as well."

"You can look me in the eye, I am a man of my word. None of this will go to the papers"

"Lets start with your records about Nichonka Bunay."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:56, Sat 15 Sept 2018.

Gavigan smiles icily at Gustav. “Your associates can be very ‘persuasive’? That sounds like a thinly veiled threat to me, Mr…. Schmidt, was it? My dear fellow, coming in here and waving some Colonial badge around is hardly civilized, now is it? I have already given Inspector Barrington of the Yard my full cooperation in this matter. If he requires further information from me, he is welcome to arrange an appointment with my secretary.”

He stands up and opens the door to the waiting room. “Mr. Kinnery. Will you please escort these good people out?” He sketches a brief bow. “Ms. Katz, Gentlemen. It has been a pleasure.”

In reply to Edward Gavigan (msg # 22):

As they were led out, Art nudges Rachel. "That guy just leaving the front desk. I saw him at the office of the Scoop."

Quickening her step, Rachel tries to catch up with the man, falling into step beside him. "You were at the Scoop, weren't you? Whatever are you doing here?"

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 23):

Jonathan stops in his tracks and with a slight sigh, he turns and replies, “Good day, ma’am. Jonathan Graham of the Scoop at your service”, he slightly tips his hat.

With a slight smile, he continued, “You folk definitely caught my attention when you entered the office, and well, here I am.”
This message was last updated by the GM at 19:44, Sat 15 Sept 2018.

In reply to Jonathan Graham (msg # 24):

"Pleased to meet you," Rachel returned flatly, grimacing, as she remembered the lurid articles The Scoop favored. "You'd best head out with us-- Gavigan just mentioned keeping this out of the papers."

"Rachel Katz," She introduced once they were out of earshot from Gavigan. "Do you know much about Edward Gavigan?"

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 25):

Jonathan clicked his tongue, “I see... alright then. I’ll head out with you folk.”

Then wish a hushed tone, he said, “Don’t know much about Mr. Gavigan over there other than him being the director of this foundation.”

"Should we really be talking to reporters now," frowns Art, but then shrugs. "Although there is strength in numbers. Good day, Sir. My name is Arthur Digby, MD. Do we perhaps share a common goal - that of solving the Egyptian Murders?"

He spots a nearby pub. "Oh, it's nearly noon. I could use a pint. Drinks are on me!"

As you seat yourself at the discreet snug at the back of the pub, he adds "I say. Did anyone notice the half-open safe in his office? And that photograph on the desk? A country mansion of some sort. I could barely make out the name. Misr House."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:45, Sat 15 Sept 2018.

In reply to Dr. Arthur Digby (Art) (msg # 27):

Upon seeing Rachel engage this man, Dermot rejoins the group.

"And who might we have here?" He looks at Jonathan casually.

After introductions are made, he joins them all in the pub.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:12, Sat 15 Sept 2018.

As the others took their drinks, Rachel opened up the folder she placed the articles in and starts looking at the articles. Occasionally, she would read out a ludicrous phrase out loud, eyeing Jonathan wryly, as if to ask, "Really?"

At the mention of a safe in Gavigan's office, Rachel turned to Art. "Open? Did you see what was inside? I don't imagine they'd keep the files in the head of the foundation's safe... Unless whatever they found was that important." Rachel mutters, the last part mostly to herself.

Breaking and entering was not her first choice as a solution, but in this case, the idea of pertinent information being withheld from her by Gavigan irritated her , so much so that she had been unconsciously eyeing the areas of the foundation that they had been, looking for points of entry.

With a sigh, Rachel turned back to the papers she had. "Perhaps we can ask around for the Misr House? Pretend to be tourists asking for directions, or something like that."

"I guess... we should look at these stories Elias was looking at as well... I've no desire to go looking for a 'monstrous murderer'-- perhaps the artist?" Lowering her voice, she added, "Perhaps Elias was looking for... cultist art? Like at the Juju House?"

The land and mansion were formerly owned by an enthusiastic Egyptologist and occultist named Neville Lloyd-Price. It is rumored that Lloyd-Price went broke and was forced to sell the property and the land on which it stood. Neville Lloyd-Price has not been seen for nine years and has, effectively, disappeared from London society. Rumors suggest that he took to the bottle when he lost everything.

The land, covering over 6,000 acres, transferred to Edward Gavigan in 1915. The mansion was formerly known as Long View until Lloyd-Price changed the name to Misr House.

The estate is situated on an island in the Naze, about 10 km from Harwich, in the midst of the marshes at the edge of the North Sea. The Naze is a peninsula, densely forested with swampy marshes and small islands stretching out into the sea.

In reply to Dermot Murphy (msg # 28):

With a tip of his hat, he replied, "Good day Dr. Digby; it seems that we do share the same goal", he turns to both the doctor and the other man, "My name is Jonathan Graham. Journalist."

He would shake his head whenever Rachel would read a phrase aloud.

Jonathan watched the group, hanging back a bit, "If you want to know about the stories my colleagues wrote, the one about the painter may have been... exaggerated, crazy story but there's always a truth in what he writes."

In reply to Jonathan Graham (msg # 31):

Gustav in turn, buys each one in the group a pint of bitter, then sits next to the newcomer and personally hands him over his pint.

"Mr. Graham correct? The name's Gustav Schmidt, I'm a detective from New York. Strange things do happen when the lot of us are together, if you want something new to write about, stick with us for a while. But better have something to protect yourself, are you a good shot?"

Gustav starts to tell the young lad about cases he had in New York, particularly the more mysterious one. Most of the people here have heard these stories 4 years ago in Lima. He also shares a few new ones. Murders and homicides and suicides to name a few.

"But enough about me, tell us who you are? whats the most audacious thing you have experienced as a journalist, the real authentic ones mind you?"

Apart from the article in The Scoop, Shipley’s name has appeared a few times in London newspaper art columns. About half speak of Shipley’s brilliant imagination, while the rest decry his paintings as nothing more than the work of a demented soul; in either case, all suggest the art may be worth investing in. All of the pieces were written after Shipley was mentioned in The Scoop.

Aleister Crowley, the infamous occultist, has been a customer; Crowley is said to have described his purchase as “an ode to Bacchus in its audacity.”

Algernon Blackwood, writer of supernatural stories, is said to have a Shipley on his study wall. Apparently, the writer is interested in the perceived occult aspects of the painting he purchased

Austin Osman Spare, both artist and occultist, is rumored to have praised Shipley’s paintings following a gallery viewing.

Several members of the Bloomsbury set are rumored to have invested in some of Shipley’s work in the hope that it realizes a smart investment.

Shipley is said to be highly egotistical about his own paintings and loves praise. Several galleries have approached him to put on a collection but he has turned them all down flat, saying he prefers private sales.

Jonathan also finds an article about Shipley in Passions, an upmarket art periodical for discerning collectors. While not a major feature (the piece barely covers a quarter page), the unnamed reporter speaks with gushing praise for the young Shipley’s work, which is described as “a wondrous cavalcade of outlandish fancy and nightmare.” The article ends by stating the artist welcomes private collectors and gives his address in Holbein Mews. Apparently, Miles Shipley is highly strung and lives with his mother, a delightful old lady.

In reply to Gustav Schmidt (msg # 32):

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Schmidt, if strange things do happen, then I'd want to stick around and find out more about it", he paused for a bit, "I know how to aim and fire if that's what you're asking."

Jonathan listens to the stories that Gustav tells. He nods in approval.

"As for me, haven't gotten anything big yet. Have been seeing some strange things, but, well... you know how the public reacts to such things."

You eventually find yourself at the Holbein Mews. Situated in West London, with the River Thames to the south, Knightsbridge to the north, and Belgravia to the east, the Metropolitan Borough of Chelsea is predominantly a lower-middle class and working-class area. Further from the river, the area’s prosperity rises, with the upper-middle class centered on Sloane Square (often considered by those living there to really be a part of upmarket Knightsbridge). Generally, the close-packed houses are the homes of tradesmen, shopkeepers, and those with an artistic flair - artists, painters, poets—lending a bohemian air to the borough. Each morning sees the mass commute of people to their day jobs, which is repeated come evening when they all head home. Consequently, for the most part, the streets are fairly quiet during the day.

The Shipley home sits in a terraced row of houses and is a two-story brick building in need of repair. Every window is barred, as well as locked shut and tightly curtained. There are front and rear entrances. A tall brick wall surrounds the rear garden. Large trees help to obscure the view from any neighboring windows that might overlook the garden. The rear gate is accessed via a lane that runs along the backs of the properties.

An old woman with a stooped frame, kind eyes, and white hair opens the front door when you knock. “Oh, visitors. How lovely! Have you come to buy some paintings?”




This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Mon 17 Sept 2018.

"Um. Yes." Rachel answered, not expecting a kindly little old lady, considering Shipley's list of buyers.

"Rachel Katz, and... Miles Shipley's mother?" Rachel guessed. "We'd like to meet the artist first--if that's possible?"

“Oh, you’re an American? How delightful! Come in, dear, come in! And your young friends. My goodness, there’s a lot of you. I hope we can all fit inside. Miles! Miles, you have visitors!”

The old woman shows you into the parlor, where she has been sitting in the corner, knitting. The entire house has a strange, cloying smell. You can hear someone descending the stairs in the hallway and a young man appears in the doorway. He has a thin frame, unkempt dark hair, and dark bags under his eyes. His fingers tremble as he greets you with a nervous voice, constantly glancing at his mother as he talks.

“Yes, I have a few paintings I can show you upstairs. Would you care to follow me?”

Shipley leads you upstairs to the garret and unlocks the door with a key. His mother (who has been introduced as Bertha Shipley) follows behind you, carrying her knitting gear.

Dangling kerosene lamps light this bare room with sloping ceilings. Beneath the skylight (painted black) is an easel. The canvas on it bears a few pencil sketches toward a new work. A table to the left holds brushes, paints, and palettes, while against the walls lean various paintings. Tucked in a corner is a closet, its door locked by padlock. Shipley indicates the paintings with a nervous smile. “So, these are my latest. All are for sale of course. They start at 75 pounds.”

The paintings are hard to look at due to their horrific and weird subject matter. Each seems to be more gruesome or grotesque than the last.

[Johan; Remember the vision you had when you looked at the Golden Mirror back in Peru? A small man huddled in a corner of a dingy room feverishly painting? This is the room!]

Shipley gives the title of each painting as you look at them;

“Ancient Science”: an alchemist’s laboratory in which vials pour forth foul-looking gas. Working at a table is a reptilian humanoid, who seems eagerly involved in the dissection of a creature. Due to the blood and lack of recognizable features, it is impossible to determine the identity of the creature being cut apart.

“The Dark Pharaoh”: a processional scene from ancient Egypt in which a golden chariot passes through a mass of people who have fallen to their knees in reverence. Atop the chariot is a pharaoh dressed in black and gold robes, whose face is turned away from the viewer. Behind the figure, two men have been impaled on stakes; eviscerated, their internal organs hang down to the ground and are being eaten by a pack of jackals.

“Goat Wood”: nighttime in a woodland scene, a yellow moon casts sickly rays through dark branches upon a group of naked men and women, who cavort around a bonfire. Rising from the flames is the image of a goat-headed man, whose outstretched arms seem to be conducting the crazed antics of the witches.

“Drawn in Blood”: the unsettling and stomach-churning scene of a man being cut open with a silver dagger, held in the hand of a black-robed figure. An act of ritual blood sacrifice, upon the victim’s chest has been carved an occult looking sigil, which seems to twist and move when viewed.

“Black Mountain”: a towering mountain, possibly in Africa, over which rises a monstrous demonic creature, its head a great tentacle swathed in blood. Near a temple-like building, tiny human figures lift their hands imploringly skyward, in supplication to the hellish god-like entity. From each of the humans’ heads a red tongue or tentacle dangles; looking closely, these appear to be ceremonial headpieces.

[Those present who look at the paintings lose 1/1D6+1 SAN)


This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 22:29, Tue 18 Sept 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 38):

Dermot reels inwardly at the sight of these grotesque and macabre paintings. He manages to keep his outward composure, however. This is nothing he hasn’t seen before... sort of, almost.

Shaking off a cold chill before it can become too obvious, he tears his gaze deom the “artwork” and turns to address young Shipley.

"Tell me, Shipley -- where do you draw inspiration for such unique pictures? They're certainly... captivating."

Dermot glances back at the Egyptian scenes that seem relevant to their occult investigations.

"Er... These are certainly as fantastic as the papers have reported. Mr. Shipley, I dare say I can fetch you a better price from my buyers if I can sell them a story or two. Won't you tell us about these paintings--what inspired you to make them? I'm particularly interested in 'Drawn in Blood' and 'Black Mountain.'" Rachel said as she inspected the paintings. Foul as they were, she couldn't help but agree that the artist had skill.

Johan appears dazed, his mind clearly somewhere else…he mumbles
"Das Gemälde ... oh Gott, das Gemälde"

Remembering that evening in Peru, when he saw the vision in the mirrored surface….  The small man, the pyramid…the plains of Africa…the dark tunnels.  It’s all real….

Eye’s darkened, voice unsteady….” Mr. Shipley, may I kindly use your facilities…I appear to have taken ill”.

Johan returns from the facilities, a little haggard but doing his best to maintain his composure.  His eyes constantly fixated on the paintings.

“Mr. Shipley, apologies for my condition." Wiping the sweat from his brow.  "Could you tell my colleagues and I of your inspiration for these works… “?