In reply to GM (msg # 116):

Gustav opens the door and sees Zahra Shafik, dressed in a thin, almost transparent gown. The heat inside the room starkly contrast the chill January weather in England. He then sees the mirror and with nonchalant horror, realised not her reflection on it, but a young woman he does not know, and a car...

Gustav realised its Mr. Bromley's car and behind them a cloud of mist with tentacles inching closer to them. Gustav remembers his time in the painter's shop and remembers his and Mr. Murphy's experience with it. He then shouts at the woman.


"Hands up! we have you surrounded"



Then everything went blank.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:12, Mon 03 Dec 2018.

In reply to Gustav Schmidt (msg # 119):

Gustav realised in a second that while not in control of his body, he feels himself moving down the stairs against his will. The stillness and the horror of this realisation shocked Gustav to the core.

He then heard a command from somewhere far away, telling him to go down the basement. He tried to fight the urge of his body to move, left step, then right step, slowly and calmly going down the staircase. "Good god what is happening to me?" he wondered as he desperately tried to take control of his body back.

He then heard a ruffle in the coal chute and another female voice commanded his body to climb there.

A few meters ahead, he saw Bromley's car running at full speed and hitting a pedestrian holding an 17' inch knife. "What the hell is happening?" Gustav struggles and losing his fight against the control


Gustav then felt his hands tremble, in the midst of the cool and calm January night, felt his hands aimed, felt his heart race and felt genuine fear he has not felt before in a long while. His body aim his gun suddenly at Ms. Katz.

"No! Good God! not her!" Gustav tries to fight the actions with everything he has and manage to somewhat do something as 'Gustav' misses her.

'Gustav' tend proceeds to gun down both Mr. Murphy and the Cheese.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:20, Mon 03 Dec 2018.

In reply to Gustav Schmidt (msg # 120):

Dermot staggers forward as a bullet rips through his shoulder. Time stands still for a moment as he sees Vince go down in his peripheral vision. He then runs as fast as shock will allow or enable him toward the car, seeking cover from the sudden hail of bullets.

A shiny glint caught Rachel's eye and she looked up to see a young lad with a large knife in hand, heading for them.

"Bromley--Bromley!" Rachel reached over, shaking Bromley's shoulder and pointing at the young man. As Bromley turned up the engine, Rachel leaned outside the window.

"Stop right there!" Rachel called out, but the young man made no signs of slowing down. She pulled out a police whistle from under her shirt and blew on it as hard as she could. Suddenly, the car lurched forward, tossing Rachel back as it swerved near the young lad. She heard the thump of something hitting the ground and quickly shifted back up to see what had happened. The young man was bleeding and slightly shifting, so Rachel quickly slipped out of the car, running for him so she could knock him out before he got back up again. With a quick jab, Rachel emptied the contents of her syringe into the young man.

"Bromley--come over, I need help!" Rachel called out as she tried to drag the man into the car, only realizing then how heavy he was. Looking around furtively, her eyes fell on a familiar figure running towards them.

"Oh, good. Gustav! Gustav--"

She saw him raise his gun towards her and she barely had time to react when Gustav shot her. Rachel felt her heart stop, waiting for the bullet to hit, but through sheer luck, she heard the bullet hit the pavement instead of her.

"What the fuck Gustav--" A shot rang through the night, and Rachel saw Vince drop to the ground. Another shot, and she saw Dermot running for the car. Rage coursed through Rachel's veins and she picked up the man's knife and headed straight for Gustav.

It shocked Rachel how easy it had been to slip the knife through his shoulder blades--it was sharp and it cut like a hot knife through butter. She pulled it out quickly, raising the blade to stab at him again when Bromley backed the car up, hitting him lightly, but the blow was enough to knock Gustav unconscious.

Johan quickly pulled in Gustav's body as Rachel piled in behind him. They drove towards Vince's body and picked him up as well, trying to staunch the bleeding from both men.

You drive away from Empire Spices as fast as you can, heading to King Edward VII’s Hospital in Marylebone, an independent charitable hospital established in 1899.

Fortunately, Bromley knows one of the physicians there and spins him a tale of dastardly muggers and evil miscreants. Dr. Wright quickly arranges for discreet care for Gustav, Vince and Dermot and promises to do his best to treat them well.

[Gustav has 1 out of 12 HP left,  Vince has 2/14, and Dermot has 8/13]





This message was last edited by the GM at 01:31, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

You decide to lie low for a while to allow people to heal and recover. Rachel learns that Empire Spices was closed for a few days but now is opened again. There is also word from the streets that certain people would be very interested in talking to someone who matches Gustav’s description. Bromley’s butler also reports that members of Scotland Yard has been to his house, asking questions about his whereabouts the last few days.

During one of your visits to the King Edward VII’s Hospital, Vince has recovered enough to tell you of the documents he found in the office of Empire Spices; 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.

Lastly, you hear of a truck that left the Blue Pyramid Club a few days ago, carrying about 15 people and heading out of London. It returned later the next day, muddy and dirty.

In reply to GM (msg # 124):

As soon as he’s cleared, Dermot leaves the hospital. No sense lying around in the most obvious place to be caught by authorities. Dermot checks in with the hospital staff about the condition of Gustav and Cheese every few days, but he’s still sorting out his feelings. Events seem to keep proving him right on one count: You can’t trust anyone for long. He spends the week recuperating in his own way: walking the wharfs, keeping up on his businesses, and reading and drinking in the local pubs. He’s lately becoming drawn to the tome he sneaked out of that ghoul-haunted Vane manor. He studies the rites and rituals with a new mythic perspective and an old morbid curiosity.

In reply to GM (msg # 124):

Johan volunteers at the hospital helping with minor tasks and using his linguistic skills to aid the hospital staff with patients while keeping an eye on his companions.

With the news of people on the look out for her companions, Rachel decides to spend most of her time at the hospital, carefully noting the people that came in and out to see her companions. It was much more comfortable at Bromley's, but she slept better at the hospital, ensuring that whoever they were up against wasn't going to send someone to kill her companions while they recovered.

On one of the days the newsboys came in to give her their reports, Rachel pulls aside one of the older ones and offers him a bit more coin than usual. She gives him the description of Edjo, and asks him to discreetly find out if the police had found anyone of that description, or if they see him lingering about the spice shop. She makes it clear that he is not to make contact with the young man in anyway.

Johan had thankfully stayed with them at the hospital. "Johan, dear. I'm... running low on... medicine." Rachel told Johan during his rounds. "I don't suppose you can acquire what I need here at this hospital?"

Dermot visited once in awhile, clearly shaken by the instance, but Rachel couldn't blame him. She still had the knife in her purse. In one of his visits, Rachel expresses concern about him being out and about despite his injuries.

After a long, hard talk with Vince and the gang about the spice shop incident, Dermot heads down to the docks for another stroll. This time, he’s got a mind to inquire into the particulars of the Ivory Wind: its owner, captain, normal business, recent commissions, anything peculiar the dock workers may have noticed. He’s willing to grease palms appropriately. Later he’ll swing by the wood shop to see whether his custom piece is ready.

Gustav is recovering quite well under the circumstances, even quite cheerful every time he sees his friends visiting. However, the smile hides a furtive secret. The experiences he had inside the Empire Spice is vexing to say the least. He has these dreams, repeat over and over again ever since he woke up exactly one week ago.

On nights, when everyone is asleep, He dreams that he was again, in the dark alley, seeing 'Gustav' body walk around the corner, seeing how 'Gustav' raises his handgun and aims at his two friends who are both particularly staring at him coldly. Mr. Murphy drops his weapon to the ground and as if by command, walks directly towards 'Gustav'. While Ms. Katz took out a 17-inch knife and proceeded to maniacally stab what now appears to be Vince the 'Cheese' as a mysterious silhouette watch from the second floor.

Everything is in slow motion, like all traumatic events made crystal clear, as if God wants you to personally see every bit of mistake that you contrived. 'Gustav' then proceeds to gun down Mr. Murphy. 'Gustav' then walks closely to Ms. Katz while she butchers Vince. They then smile at each other and then 'Gustav' proceeds to shoot her in the head. 'Gustav' then turns around and looks at Gustav who is lost in despair. 'Gustav' walks towards him, acknowledging for the first time his presence. Looks directly at him, and whispers 'Oh, do enjoy this. Its the first of many nights like these'. The sounds of police sirens can be heard in the background as a knife plunges deep in the heart of Gustav.

He awakes in the middle of the night. Sweating and shaking. Alone in his room. Alone with his secrets.

'Fuck' and against doctor's orders, wolfs down his american-made blood sausages and Irish potato galette.



10:45, Today: Gustav Schmidt rolled 26 using 4d10, unique dice with rolls of 10,1,8,7. CON 55: 1d3 success, 2d3 extreme.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:48, Mon 10 Dec 2018.

Dermot finds to his delight that his knife hand sheath is ready to be picked up, and that it fits very well.

He spends some time around the Limehouse Docks. It is a grim and dirty part of London, with an unsavory reputation for gambling, derelicts, opium addicts, exotic restaurants, and crime. Cheap housing draws working class English, as well as smaller African and Asian communities, notably Chinese, Japanese, and East Indians.

Apart from the residents, sailors (from near and far) loiter around the dockland nightspots, ready to gamble, drink, or lose their hard-earned wages through all manner of distractions. Unless touting their trade, most in Limehouse keep to themselves. Keeping a low profile avoids unwanted attention, while those considered to be prying into another’s business risk confrontation with angry locals or visiting sailors. For most, turning a blind eye to criminal and violent behavior is far safer than the alternative. While commerce occurs, the differing communities tend to be insular and protective of their way of life.

Feeling right at home here, Dermot has little trouble talking to the locals, who inform him of the following;

• Many trucks come and go all the time, unloading and loading onto ships in the docks.

• A Ferris & Sons’ truck has been through here in the last day or so. It stopped and unloaded some big crates at a warehouse at Ropemakers Fields.

• Mr. Chaudhary has a goods warehouse on Ropemakers Fields. He imports and exports around the world.

• Some unusual hours are kept by Mr. Chaudhary and his workers. Sometimes you can hear them moving goods in the dead of night. His workers are lascars (sailors from South and Southeast Asia, as well as the Arab world) and very tough customers.

The Ivory Wind currently resides in the Regent’s Canal Dock in Limehouse. An older merchantman (7,000 tons displacement) designed to haul general cargoes, this dilapidated freighter is captained by Lars Torvak, a Norwegian who really likes his drink. The vessel, like its captain, has seen better days. The ship’s route includes stops in Marseilles, Malta, Port Said, Aden, Bombay, Singapore, and Shanghai.


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:35, Mon 10 Dec 2018.

Dermot easily locates The Grapes. The current building dates from the 1720s and is on the site of a pub built in 1583. It is a seedy and rowdy place, the air thick with tobacco smoke and the smell of unwashed sailors.

Discreetly asking around, the Irishman spots Captain Torvak, nursing a whiskey at the bar and staring morosely into the distance. He has graying beard and hair, weathered skin, and bright blue eyes.


This message was last updated by the player at 20:01, Tue 11 Dec 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 131):

Dermot plops down unceremoniously at Lars' table, leaving a gap of one chair between them.

"Now here's a ship's captain if ever I saw one! Would ye getta loada this place, it's in tatters. I can't decide whether she's still getting her land legs or she thinks she's a boat, listing off nigh well into the harbor like that. How're the winds these days?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Tue 11 Dec 2018.

Captain Torvak is a bit taken aback when Dermot starts to speak to him, but quickly warms to his new drinking partner. He demonstrates an astounding ability to knock back alcohol, and regales Dermot with tales of the seven seas and his incompetent crew.

When pressed on affairs here in London, he shakes his head. He has never heard of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh, Edward Gavigan or Empire Spices. He mentions that Puneet Chaudhary pays him well to transport certain goods to an importer in Shanghai named Ho Fang. There have been a lot of crates over the last few years. He has never opened the crates and was told by Chaudhary that they contain “off the books” antiques.

“One of these days, I swear to God I’ll crack open one of those crates to see what I’m carrying. Could be worth a fortune, no?”, he slurs with a wink at Dermot.

In reply to Captain Lars Torvak (msg # 133):

“Is that so? Tell me, how’s the volume? If you ever find your ship’s jammers with such valuable cargo, oi’ve a few ships of my own. Oi’m always looking to expand, and I ship sundries both on and off the record, if ye catch my drift.”

Dermot produces a business card for his legitimate enterprise.

"I take a shipment to Shanghai every few months," replies Lars and motions the hideously scarred bartender for another drink. "Ever been there? Cheap booze and cheaper women - jævla bra ting!"

He downs his drink and rises unsteadily from the bar stool. "Well, I'd better get back to my ship. Heading out tomorrow and I suppose I should be there for that!" He grins and offers Dermot his hand. "Nice to meet you, Dermot! If you're ever in Shanghai, you'll probably find me at the Stumbling Tiger."

With that, he staggers out the door, slurring the words to an old Norwegian sea shanty.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:33, Wed 12 Dec 2018.

The Penhew Foundation is in Central London on Devonshire Street (now Boswell St.), off Theobalds Road (a Bloomsbury address north of Oxford Street and west of the British Museum). It is a High Victorian building, of fewer stories and greater ceiling height than the buildings to either side, and altogether grander in scale. A high iron fence surrounds the Penhew Foundation building at the front and rear. A delivery entrance at the back is wide enough to admit vehicles; the double gate is usually padlocked with two stout chains across it.

A doorman is on duty at the front door (the sole public entrance) from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., Monday through Friday, while an administrator sits at a desk just inside the main entrance from 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday. At all other times, a single watchman patrols the building; he guards the collection against fire, burst pipes, and storm damage. Normal office hours for the Foundation are 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Most of the employees have a half-hour lunch, beginning at noon.

You cautiously descend the narrow and steep stairs and enter a spacious room, enclosed by foot-thick concrete on all sides, essentially independent from the rest of the building, rather like a box within a larger box. A light switch, on the left-hand wall as one enters ensures the room is well lit. Light or no, the smell of candles long since burned out lingers in the air. Once there is light to see by, you are greeted with well-maintained furniture (desk, chairs, various tables), stacks of crates and boxes, an ornate chest, a bookcase, and an array of artwork hung about the walls.

The room contains a variety of materials for invoking magic (chalk, candles, a few vials of blood, dried human skin, and so on), as well as dubious tomes containing spells. Next to the desk is a comfortable study area, with seating for small meetings. Two boxes (nearer to the desk) contain a three-day supply of tinned food and water, as well as candles and matches, changes of clothes, and similar emergency supplies. Other notable items found in the room are described below.

A desk drawer contains a .32 revolver and a box of bullets, a couple of false passports, and a number of bundles of used five- and ten-pound notes totaling 2000 pounds ($10,000). Beneath the desk is a stout metal box containing various receipts for goods and services, including deliveries to Henson Manufacturing in Derby for wood and coal, iron ingots, copper wiring, and an expensive cast iron safe. Underneath the pile of receipts, a business card for Empire Spices is wedged into one of the box’s corners.

A small gallery of art consisting of ancient icons, statues, and wall art is displayed here; these pieces depict various Mythos deities and creatures in their blasphemous glory. The pieces of wall art are hung on masonry and stucco surfaces, screwed to the original stone walls. Most are obviously Egyptian or proto-Sumerian, dating back to the Twenty-Second Dynasty, although one piece, a small statuette of a pharaoh-like figure whose face is obscured by a mass of intricately carved squirming tentacles, dates to the late Third Dynasty. Some of the artwork depicts;

A dark winged thing, seemingly both leprous and scaly.
• A winged hulking beast, with dragon-like tail and a fang-ringed jaw.
• A group of prowling human-seeming beings, whose eyes are far too big upon disfigured faces.
• Many red-orange colored bursts of color or light that are gathering around a tall dark humanoid, who appears to be on fire.

Several wooden crates are stacked about; all but two are open and empty. A tall, closed crate is stenciled “Ho Fang Import/Export, 15 Kaoyang Street, Shanghai, China,” in both English and Chinese. In smaller letters are the words “Attention Honourable Ho Fang.”

Within a fine walnut bookcase are several glass protected shelves of books and scrolls, as well as a small stone jar tucked away between the tomes. Volumes in German, French, Russian, Latin, and Spanish are recognizable, while two are in English. There are 15 scrolls in total, all very old.

You also come across a large ledger, along with two letters. The ledger contains handwritten entries describing transactions and shipments around the world. Reading the entries shows shipments to Ho Fang in Shanghai, Randolph Shipping in Darwin, Australia, and Omar al-Shakti in Cairo, Egypt. The first letter was written by Omar al-Shakti to Gavigan. The unfinished letter is written in Gavigan’s hand on excellent cream-colored rag paper.




This message was last edited by the GM at 23:11, Sun 16 Dec 2018.

You gather what you can from the hidden basement room, while Vince starts a small fire. Hurrying up the narrow stairs again, you can smell the smoke from below, but you close the mummy case again and make your escape from the window in Gavigan’s office.

Piling into the parked car, Bromley takes you back to his house. As the car pulls up in the drive-way, Bromley’s butler approaches with a worried look on his face.

“Welcome back, Sir. I would hate to overstep my bounds, but Mrs. Vivienne went out earlier to evening to play whist with some of her friends and she had not come home yet.”


This message was last edited by the GM at 23:07, Sun 16 Dec 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 139):

As Gustav and Bromley inquire concerning Vivienne’s absence, Dermot motions to Cheese to help him deposit the loot inside.

“We could probably use a special safe for our spoils. Perhaps you could recommend a model that’s resistant to tampering? We’ll have to take it up with Bromley once Vivienne’s accounted for.”

You inquire with Bentley the butler about Vivienne’s outings and learn that once or twice per week she visits with friends to play cards or discuss charitable work. Sometimes the chauffeur drives her, other times she drives herself in a Silver Ghost Rolls Royce. This evening she had talked about going to play whist with a small group of friends in Mayfair (about 1.5 miles away) but a quick phone call establishes that she never arrived.

Retracing her normal route in their car, Bromley and Gustav eventually spot the abandoned Silver Ghost about a mile from her friend’s house. The car is parked on the snowy roadside and there is no sign of Vivienne.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Sat 29 Dec 2018.

In reply to Vivienne Aveline-Edgeware (msg # 141):

Johan quickly fixes his suit, straightens his hat and makes best usage of cane in an attempt to appear as a well to do gentleman. As the door open, he tips his hat. "Good evening madam, I apologize for the intrusion this late in the eve. If I might have a moment of your time...a dear friend of mine has gone missing and I believe something happened to them possibility outside your home. My friend is young woman by the name of Vivienne and the car she was in is just outside.  She's was expected back to her home some time ago and her family is dearly worried. Did you see anything odd this evening that might help?"

Ms. Eustace Worthington, cradling one of the numerous cats in her flat, informs Johan that she likes to keep an eye on the neighbourhood. Earlier this evening, she heard screeching brakes and looked out.

A rusty old truck was blocking that very fancy car now parked outside, and a couple of foreign-looking men jumped out and talked to a pretty young woman in the fancy car. After a short conversation, they escorted her to the truck and it sped off, heading north. The truck was dark blue and had the name ‘Ferris & Sons’ on the side.


This message was last edited by the GM at 01:40, Sun 30 Dec 2018.