In reply to Yalesha (msg # 93):

"You needn't worry; I've a sister, Octavia, who is currently staying at my families estate in Scotland. She's very... progressive... and will happily take you in. I fear we've found ourselves in the middle of something quite vile so we may need your help"

Bromley then proposes we find some taxis and head back home.

You drive through the dense fog back to Bromley’s house. It is well after midnight before you arrive, and the butler is frowning ever so slightly as you arrive, especially at the sight of Yalesha. He finds her an unused bedroom and promises to lay out fresh clothes for her in the morning.

The next day, Vivienne asks for a quiet word with Bromley, expressing concern about all the strange house-guests he keeps on bringing in. “A reporter was bad enough, but now this 'girl'…  I just don’t know, dear...” she sighs.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:30, Tue 20 Nov 2018.

In reply to Yalesha (msg # 93):

Gustav finishes his breakfast quickly and thank Vivienne profusely for her wonderful hospitality. He then waits for Yalesha to come down for breakfast and joined her with coffee.

"Good morning, that was an... interesting night we found ourselves into. Maybe after breakfast we can talk to everyone and discuss things that we should have talked about last night. But please take your time. Breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day."

Gustav proceeds to go to the smoking room and proceeds to read the morning's newspaper.

After finishing her breakfast, Yalesha joins Gustav in the smoking room. She is dressed much more modestly than last evening and sipping on a cup of tea, obviously enjoying the luxuries of her surroundings.

She explains that she has only worked at the Blue Pyramid for about a year, and while the money was good, she did not enjoy the lecherous guests or Abdul’s advances. About two months ago, her boyfriend, Badru, got into a fistfight with one of the regular guests, when the guest drunkenly tried to assault her when the couple was leaving the club. Several other patrons quickly appeared and subdued Badru and dragged him back into the club, denying her access. She has not heard from him since and threats of violence deterred her from further questions.

She is aware that several guests are members of a cult they call the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh, and that they are led by Zahra Shafik and an English gentleman. At least once per month, a large truck pulls up to the club after midnight, and dozens of club members climb into it. They arrive back late the next day, sometimes bruised and groggy, whispering about holy rites to other patrons.

She is keen to exact revenge on everyone in the club for what happened to Badru, and offers her help for whatever is needed.

“I grew up in the slums and know how to defend myself,” she smiles quietly, sipping her tea.

After breakfast, you drive back towards Soho and park near Empire Spices. Zahra Shafik’s spice shop is a two-story building at 76 Wardour Street. On entering, a myriad of exotic smells confront the visitor. Spices and herbs line the walls in large jars or drawers, each labeled with their contents.

The woman you saw at the club last evening stands behind the counter, smiling pleasantly.

In reply to GM (msg # 95):

After the entourage of guests have been shown to their rooms Bromley and Vivienne retire upstairs. Pausing at the bedroom door, Bromley asks his wife if he could have a quiet word. He pulls out a key and ushers her towards his study along the hall.

The room is, comparative to the rest of the immaculate house, in chaos. Piles of books, open accounting ledgers and sheets of paper lay scattered around the room. A number of relics and fetishes sit haphazardly amidst the tomes that line the wall to wall bookcases. He motions for Vivienne to sit on the leather desk chair as he himself sits upon a stack of books. He suddenly feels very, very tired.

“As you know, before we were married, I spent some time in the Americas; that is where I met most of my friends…”

He then proceeds to tell a somewhat sanitised version of events, emphasiszing the looming sense of threat he has come to realise. Most of the esoteric otherworldly parts are left out; Vivienne has an open mind, but he doesn’t want her to think him mad.

“This… This is worse than the Hun… It’s worse than the threat of Communism… When we married I promised to provide for you - to protect you - Jackson had uncovered something, and to keep us all safe sometimes things might be… unconventional… This is something I need to see through”

“But believe you me -I love you Vivienne, and you needn’t ever question that”

Vivienne, while rightfully shocked, is demure - Years of expensive formal education have given her the stiffest of upper lips. She tells her husband that she will strongly consider his recommendation that she take Yalesha to visit his sister in Scotland - On the strict condition that he no longer keeps any secrets from her.

In reply to Yalesha (msg # 97):

Gustav is amused at the thought of a young Yalesha using a baseball bat, hitting a drunkard squarely in the head.

"That is very good to hear, you'll fit in quite well in Red Hook hahahaha!" Gustav exclaimed with a hearty laugh.


Gustav in turn, shares to her about his life in New York City, stories of police cases he has handled and finally to the subject of Jackson Elias and the reason why the group is in London.

"I believe the so called Egyptian Murders has have some connections with a cult that murdered our friend in the United States, I would want nothing more than pursue them and put an end to them all once and for all."

"Do you remember when was the last time you saw those large trucks past midnight? or better yet, would you know when will they come back again?"

"Maybe you have friends working still in the Blue Pyramid that we can ask?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:10, Wed 21 Nov 2018.

"I'm not sure," replies Yalesha. "I think there was a truck leaving last Saturday evening. And they normally head off every couple of weeks or so. To this Miser or Misr House, perhaps? Misr means Egypt in Arabian, you know?"

She curls up in the soft recliner and enjoys the warmth of the roaring fireplace. "What will you do now? I will be happy to go visit Mr. Bromley's sister in Scotland, but if you need my help, I can come."

In reply to GM (msg # 98):

Dermot starts to follow the group toward the entrance, but draws up short. He expresses an interest in scouting around the building while the shopkeeper is occupied with Johan and other patients.

"Anyone with me?"

He ambles casually down the side alley, taking care not to linger before any windows. He pays special attention to any outcroppings, entrances, etc.

In the back yard of Empire Spices stands the outside toilet and various old moldering crates and sacks. A grate for a coal chute leads to a cellar. The grate is covered in black coal dust and kept locked with a good quality padlock.

(Hard STR roll to break or a successful Locksmith roll).

In reply to GM (msg # 103):

Dermot notes his surroundings in the rear yard: some piles of junk and a locked coal chute, along with a well-maintained outhouse. The doors and windows are all secured. He heads back up the alley, noting the buildings two chimneys. He finds a nearby pub to sit and wait, chewing over his options for subterfuge. If things go south, he’s not afraid to be a bull in the spice shop, but for now he’ll lie low.

In reply to Dermot Murphy (msg # 102):

Johan removes his hat and messes up his hair a bit before entering Empire Spices. He smiles toward the owner, and turn to walk around the store and examine each and every spice.  His every action just a bit exaggerated, from his foot steps, to the sounds of sniffing the fragrance of the various spices.

Without turning to look at her, "Good Day Madam, I find myself in need of a few items and I fear I'm not the best at this sort of thing.  Do you by any chance have coriander, cardamom, chili, aniseed, bay leaves, dill, parsley, ginger, cinnamon, mint and cloves?"

In reply to Johan Braun (msg # 105):

Zahra Shafik frowns almost imperceptibly as Johan inspects her store but continues her pleasant smile.

“I have all of those, of course,” she replies with barely a hint of an accent. “Here, let me get them for you. How much of each?”

She goes from spice rack to spice rack, filling small paper satchels with spices. “Hmmmm, my apologies. I seem to be out of aniseed. One moment please. Edjo, some aniseed, please.”

The last is directed to the back of the shop. A moment later, a tall and lanky man appears, dressed in scruffy overalls, and carrying a jar of spices. He hands it over to Zahra with a smile and glances briefly at Johan before exiting the main room again.

Zahra wraps up the spices neatly and hands them to Johan. “Will that be all, Sir?” she asks.


This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Sun 25 Nov 2018.

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 106):

Johan looks over the spices, "Hmmm...madam you have a most well appointed store. I fear, I'm forgetting something....and of course the lady of house would not be very happy if I forgot to bring something home. Now where is that list..." Johan checks all of his pockets several times. "Ah yes, it's that one spice with that's reddish brown in color...might be a kind of chili pepper.  Do you know what I mean?"

Johan proceeds to stumble around the store....and 'accidentally' spills the spice to his right on the floor.

"Oh no, I'm so embarrassed Madam...please do you have a broom I could use to clean this up?" Remarking loudly. "Oh Edjo!  Could you spare a broom?"

In reply to Johan Braun (msg # 107):

Upon forcing a back window and finding themselves in a small kitchen, Dermot listens at the door. Hearing footsteps and grumbling from the other side, and having previously glimpsed movement from the other window, Dermot suggests the two return after dark. They leave the window shut but ready to be reopened, and return the way they came through the alley, finding a nearby pub wherein to await the return of their friend and distraction, Johan.

Having hired Vince ‘The Cheese’ Bowers as your resident burglar and all-round dodgy individual, you pile into Bromley’s car and head back towards Soho around midnight. It is Saturday, January 31 1925.

You park the car near to Empire Spices and make your way through the foggy and snowy streets to 76 Wardour Street. The area is fairly quiet but the occasional drunk or streetwalker can be seen. There is a light shining from the front upstairs windows.

The brick-walled cellar is dark, dirty, and featureless. A big pile of coal fills the area below the chute, while several old crates litter the floor. A shovel and coal bucket are the only equipment down here. Hidden behind an old bed frame is a locked door.

Vince picks the lock, which leads to a another room. Bolted to the walls are chains and iron hooks, and various lengths of rope lie around the floor. At one end of the room is what looks to be a shrine. Black candles ring a 90 cm high idol of a Egyptian pharaoh, carved from black ebony.

A block of wood, roughly 60 cm square is stained with old blood. Lying on top of the block is an old and gnarled club, covered in dark stains and riven through by a blackened metal spike.

There is also a small wooden crate stenciled “Randolph Shipping Company, Port Darwin, Northern Territory, Dominion of Australia”, along with a curious symbol that seems to show a stylized deer’s head or winged creature. In smaller letters are written the words “Personal To Mr. Randolph.”

Inside the now opened crate, nestled in packing material, is a 40 cm tall representation of a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face is a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind.

(Those who see this statue feel the hairs on the back of their necks stand up; please roll for SAN (0/1D2 loss).

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Meanwhile, back at the waiting car, there is a knock on the driver's window. A young woman smiles at Bromley. "Evenin' yer lordship. Looking for a good time?"

In reply to GM (msg # 111):

Dermot descends to the basement after Gustav and Cheese, who has  taken the lead rather impressively. After descending for a moment to survey the room, he takes responsibility for watching the areas in view of the top of the stairs.

"We're here for recon, right? Try not to disturb anything you can't put back. They needn't know we're onto them if they don't already! Find out about this monthly excursion if ye can, and any details of interest. I'll rap twice on the coal chute if anyone comes this way."

In reply to GM (msg # 112):

From the passenger seat, Johan nods to Bromley with a smirk. "I believe the lady is looking for an answer my friend, although is it likely not the best time for such dalliances."

Cheese looks over the disturbing artifacts and evidence of violence in the basement.  "I'm not sure what black magic these folks subscribe to, nor am I a connoisseur of strange and disturbing art, so the significance or value of these statues or other items is unknown to me.  I leave it to you chaps if you think we should make off with anything.  It appears someone is asleep upstairs.  If you want to press further, I will sneak up the stairs and try to search the house in silence and see what other evidence I can find, doing my best to leave no trace.  If you should hear cries of alarm or sounds of a scuffle, I leave it up to you if you break your cover to rush to assist me or flee.  If the latter, I advise you make haste out the basement the way we came.

As quiet as a church mouse, Vince sneaks up the stairs to the ground level. There is still loud snoring from [room 9].

Room 11 is an office. Vince finds various receipts for goods and services, including a receipt from Ferris & Sons of London for the six-month hire of a truck, and a letter from a Mr. Puneet Chaudhary of Ropemakers Fields, Limehouse, relating to the warehousing and shipment of “sundry antiquities” to Shanghai onboard a ship called the Ivory Wind.

There are also stairs leading to the upper floor.



This message was last edited by the GM at 16:42, Sun 02 Dec 2018.

Steering clear of the loud snoring, The Cheese heads to the upper floor to search those rooms for more information and valuables, using his knowledge of where people tend to secure their valuables and hide their favored possessions.

In reply to GM (msg # 112):

Awkwardly, Rachel glances over at Bromley, before turning away. It wasn't any of her business anyway. Quietly, she pulled out a pouch from her bag, pulling out a stoppered bottle and a syringe. Slipping the needle into the bottle, she carefully filled the syringe. She wasn't exactly any sort of chemist, but she figured injecting the full amount of the mixture should be enough to knock out anyone, should the need arise.