----The Serbian Problem pt 7-----

The two agents load up seven pottery jars of holy water and fill up an additional flask each.   Atwell blesses them with the same intensity as he blessed the water - the man has Faith.  Jack finds the offertory and leaves the money, noticing that Preacher Barry is again carefully watching the elderly minister praying, as if he's very worried about the old man.

At the mention of Andreja's name, Janko's expression changes from concerned to extremely concerned - even fearful.  "No.  She - Anika told me that she found a place in Canada, taking her daughter with her.  She is Political Science teacher at University of Belgrade, before the troubles, very intelligent lady, speaks four languages.  It cannot be her."  He quickly gives the Agents directions to the steakhouse.  He gave her description as "Brown hair, very curly, she is maybe five foot five tall, a little stocky."  He would not accompany them, but instead wanted to run home to his family.

And there, they find the manager of the steakhouse quite irate that one of his 'usually reliable' cooks stopped coming to work in late May.  The manager supplies them with Andreja Dobroslav's address, a boarding house a few blocks away.   There they find the landlord of the property haranguing some tenants about overdue rent, and that Andreja and her daughter Andjela had been missing since June.  Maybe earlier.  Their stuff had been abandoned and was in the shed, about to be thrown away, their room already rented out to another pair of immigrants.  In the two crates belonging to the Dobroslavs Jack and Spider find women's clothes in two sizes, a photograph of a man in a military uniform, loose from its broken frame, some heavy textbooks in Serbian and Russian, and a sheaf of paperwork - applications for citizenship in the US, with documents that no one would leave behind - birth certificates for both Andreja and Andjela, passports, and letters of recommendation, and a diploma from Belgrade.  The paperwork has two small photographs clipped to it; one of a woman about thirty-five, with curly hair, and one of a young girl, maybe twelve years old.

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GM:  Actions, please, for the next couple of hours of game time, please respond by Saturday  18 September, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well and managing in these strange times.  Thanks for the compliment, J, I do try to give flavour; that church does exist.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 34):

As they sputtered towards the farm, he used the time in between conversations to consider what he had learned so far.

Something happened with Mills and Trachenberg. He found it more than a little disconcerting that Professor Mills had withheld information. Still, although Mills was not as forthcoming as he could have been, Nolan trusted that he had a good reason for circumspection. Nolan also knew, that whatever the missing information was, it was only a matter of time before the rookie agent learned it. But, given Jenkins' presence and their current mission, now was not the time.

Monster trophies. He considered with a mental shudder. Many men in the military collected trophies of their enemies. In fact, even Chris had kept a handgun from his service in the Great War. Yet somehow he imagined 'monster trophies' to be quite different. Nolan wasn't sure if he was repulsed or impressed.

He thoughts returned to the present as they approached the locked gate. He shared Jenkins eyeroll at the news that Mills had left the key but kept his thoughts to himself as he killed the engine. "Sorry, I didn't do much lockpicking in the Service. We walk from here." He offered his shoulders to his companions and exited the vehicle. As he prepared to continue on foot, he thumbed through the file and looked at the demarcations Trachenberg had made. "Well, guys, Let's take a look and see how precise Trachenberg was."

He worked his way past the gate and through the farm's property. Using Trachenberg's demarcations he examined several of the straggly stalks, paying special attention to the plants themselves and the soil beneath them. Despite the fact that all this investigation had previously been done, he hoped that a fresh pair of eyes or the mere passing of time could reveal something new. He crouched next to each flora remnant, at took a plant sample and soil sample to compare to the sample of the dead earth he had already obtained. After several of the stalks had been examined, he took a moment to go over the results with his partners. As they spoke, he flipped through the file to see how deep the dead earth ran.

Satisfied with his initial assessment of the few surviving pieces of vegetation, he walked the perimeter of the barn in search of abnormalities in either the surrounding earth or the structure before searching the barn itself. He saved the search of the house for last. He told himself that it was based solely on the estimated time he felt it would take but he had a strange sense of foreboding that said differently.


[OOC: Everyone is great over here, thanks. Hope you and yours are good as well. I really appreciate you taking the time to officiate the game. It is a great diversion, especially in these times.] 

Jack thanks Janko and cautions him not to speak of their conversation until he hears otherwise.
   At Andreja's workplace, he will ask if anyone else has come looking for her, and leave his card with the manager so the man can call him if someone does so later.
   At the boarding house, Jack frowns at the unpleasant implications. Showing his credentials to the landlord, he will take all the paperwork and the photo, and check the books for loose papers in the pages. As they look through the things, he will idly say to the landlord, "They disappeared and left all these vitally important documents, and you didn't think to call the police? Interesting."
   After he lets that sink in for a minute, he will add: "Did the woman or the girl ever have any visitors? Did they have any friends living nearby? Maybe somewhere the girl might have gone if the mother disappeared? Think hard."
   After getting whatever information he can from the man, he will add: "We'll need to take a quick look in the rooms they rented. You can watch if you want. She may have been in trouble and hid something there." If the man really puts up an argument despite Jack and Spider's appearance and ID, Jack will offer him $5 "for all your inconvenience." At any rate, he will search whatever space they rented for items under loose floor boards, under the mattress, hidden behind drawers, slid behind wall mouldings, etc. He will do the same for shared areas such as a bathroom or kitchen.
   When they leave, he will give the man his card and tell him to call if he thinks of anything else, or anyone else comes snooping around. "And especially if you see the girl. Tell her to call us, we can keep her safe." As they depart he will nonchalantly look around to see if they are being observed by anyone from afar, and if so will drive to a closer point from which he and Spider can pursue them.

The Serbian Problem pt 8

Jack's persistence pays off.  He riffles through all the books and finds a folded letter in one, written in Serbian, and then tries to shame a shameless slumlord, who shrugs.  "They come and go all the time.  So long as they pay, I don't care."   The landlord only knew that the woman worked at a restaurant downtown, and the girl went to school.

The two Polish immigrants, a young couple now renting the room are fretful at the appearance of government men, and quickly move out of the way.  This time, Jack's attention to detail is not rewarded.  The room is bare of everything that might pertain to the two Serbian women.  The landlord is less than helpful, but quickly takes the money, and less than eagerly takes the card.

Jack and Spider linger for a while, watching and waiting, as a thin elderly woman limps down the rickety steps, carrying a cloth bag for groceries, her grey hair wrapped in a green scarf.    Her dress is old and has patches on it.  She limps along, giving them the eye, and pauses as she reaches the street.
"Will one of such nice men help old lady crossing road ?"  she asks, in fairly poor English.  Once clear of the sight of the boarding house, she introduces herself, her English much clearer.  "I am Martina Orlova, and I know the Dobroslavs.  Andjela came to me on 28 May, told me her mother did not come home from her second job.  She stayed with me that night, and went to find Andreja the next morning.   I never saw them again.  Andreja worked at the Serbian Embassy and the steakhouse."

Jack asks her to translate the found letter, which she does.   "This letter is from Andreja to Ambassador Andro Trovi Pavichich.   It is a rough draft, I think, she has crossed out some things, about being unhappy.   She is saying she will no longer work for the Embassy, effective in June, because she is not comfortable with what she is being asked to do there.  She says it is not proper, and she is a good Christian woman.   She says that she is sorry to give such short notice.  She asks that her wages be sent to her by mail and thanks the Ambassador for understanding."  Martina hands the letter back to Jack and regards him and Spider for a moment.  "You must not know, that this happens often.  We come here, we are alone, and we disappear forever.  It is not the first time.  It could be me, tomorrow."  The old woman regards Jack and Spider with an impassive look, clearly having been at the front door of Hell itself already in her long life, and not surprised that such bad things could happen.
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GM: Actions, please, for the next hour of game time, please respond by 25 September, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well and managing to deal with life.
Glad to be giving you some entertainment, some things to ponder.
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Nolan's First Day pt 4

Nolan can easily scale the gate, as it is only four feet high.  He does notice something as he sets his feet on the rails; there are marks in the dirt outside the gate.  Further examination shows the lines of what look like bicycle tires, and oddly, cloven hoofprints like a large goat in the dirt.  The tracks are not fresh, and it has not rained for at least two days.   There are more hoofprints in the dirt on the other side of the gate, and along the half-fallen barn, near the marked field.  There are no footprints, just cloven hoofprints.  Jenkins notices this too, though Mills is less than perceptive.

"Does that corn look bluish, to you ?"  Mills asks, pointing at the scraggly harvest.  Nolan carefully sampled the soil and the plants.  The stalks are greyed and twisted, the blue-toned corn was obviously no good to eat, but it was the only sign of life in the barren farm.  Of the experimental crops, none of them looked edible, but C2 and D looked like they were growing.  A series of chemical formulas with amounts and application procedures was appended at the back of the report; it was quite thorough.  A search of the tool box in the Model T turned up an entrenching tool, a well-kept small folding shovel, certainly the thing for digging.  The taint in the soil ran about a foot deep, apart from C2 and D, where it was spotty and sometimes only on the surface.  Some of the exposed corn roots looked quite normal.

Nolan follows the cloven tracks around the barn, noticing that they moved oddly; the creature had apparently stood still for a while, then moved back towards another section of fence behind the barn and went over it onto the road again.  The scattering of gravel on that part of the road obscured the tracks after that.  The barn was empty apart from a rotted, rusting plow and some broken barrels.  Even weeds didn't want to grow on the eerie looking soil; a few old bones alongside the barn were stained grey, probably from a large farm animal to judge by the size.

The house was also a wreck, the roof more than half gone, the walls and floors rotted and stained with the same sickly grey funk.  Nolan wasn't sure the floorboards would hold his weight, so Jenkins scouted ahead, returning with a 'all clear' hand signal.  The place seemed utterly abandoned.  Mills made a few notes on his clipboard.  "I think it may require another treatment," he said.  "We didn't have a lot of chemicals at the time, only what we could find in the local supply in DC."  Jenkins has also noticed the odd tracks and calls Mills' attention to them.   Mills shrugs.

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GM: Actions, please, for the next hour of game time, please respond by 25 September, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well and managing to deal with life.  Glad to be giving you some entertainment, some things to ponder.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 38):
Spider nods and thanks the old woman, and praises Jack for his find.  "Now I think we need to confront the folks at the embassy.  They haven't been straight with us, and if they don't come clean, we can leave them to their problem.  I suspect that the thing might be the spirits of these Sheilas. In fact," he calls back to the office and relates the details to Edith and company, asking if they think this changes things.

Jack is pleased that his good old-fashioned detective work paid off, but still very angry about the fate of the translator and her daughter. When their neighbor assists with further information, Jack is sincerely grateful.
     “Miss Orlova, we do understand that vulnerable people go missing, and we try to stop it. We appreciate your taking a risk and helping us. We will do our absolute best to find the girl, and help her if we can. And we will bring the perpetrators to justice. I promise you that.“
     Jack agrees with Spider that they need to confront Miroslav. “But first we need to run by HQ and pick up whatever Miss Black has concocted for us, and any further information Edith may have come up with. Also, didn’t Miroslav say he was closing the embassy and would bring us the keys? Maybe we can call and arrange for him to meet us there after everyone else is gone. We will have our materials to deal with the spirit, but we can also talk to Miroslav without interference from his guards. If there’s any chance that girl is still alive…“ Jack trails off, not having much hope. “Janko also mentioned that Miroslav was discussing the incident with someone named Yuri Cvetkovic. My guess is that that’s the head of embassy security, but whoever it is, he’s involved. We need to find out who he is for sure, and where he is. Maybe Edith can get that information from the State Department.”
     Jack heads quickly back toward the office.

The Serbian Problem pt 9

Jack and Spider go over the possibilities.  Martina Orlova nods, looking them both in the eye.  "Udachi," she said.  "Bog v pamoch.  I wish you good luck, with the grace of God."  She walks away, carefully navigating the poor walkway along the road.

They head back to the office, to see what's going on.  Edith reported that Aleksandar Miroslav had given her his home address, so that they could go pick up the keys to the closed Embassy.  "The poor man's in tears.  And my intuition tells me that he's got something on his mind."  She picked up her telephone as it rang.

Thorne was madly typing away, swearing under his breath, but Angus looked up as Jack and Spider approached.  "She's still in the labs, but she's got this for you," the Scot said, holding up a dark glass bottle with a cork stopper.  It held about a pint of oily fluid with a strong herbal scent.  "Smear it along the threshold of every entrance into the house, sprinkle the salt over it and place an iron bit on top, and here's the chant.  She wrote it phonetically, I think it's in Creole."  He handed over the written note.  "And if you want, take my black stick.  Spirits do not seem to like it."  he proferred his ebony walking stick, well-worn and sturdy.  His phone rang and he answered it, "BPRD, how can we assist - oh, yes, Sir, that file's on my desk right now.  We'll be sending someone out tomorrow morning.  Let me check on the particulars....."

The two agents waited for Edith to finish her phone call, and asked about Yuri Cvetkovic.  "That's the man who died," she said, in a low tone.  "He was in the boiler room.  If he...didn't move on, I can ask around and see if anyone can speak to him.  But you know not everyone stays around, and the aether, it's very disturbed lately."
The address for Miroslav was on the outskirts of town, not upscale, but definitely upper middle class.  Spider and Jack are able to park in a wide gravelled driveway, along a line of red and yellow rose bushes.  The front garden is well kept and the house is a nice two-storey brick house with a covered porch.  A dog begins barking as they climb the steps, and they can hear it scratching at the door.  Miroslav's voice, in Serbian, chides the dog, who cheerfully ignores him, and he opens the door with one arm tucked around a small, fluffy dog.  As Edith had said, his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and he had an air of weariness and misery about him.  "Ah.  Agents.  The keys.  Please to come in.  Do not worry, Sacha will not bite."   The front room has a nice woolen carpet, an upright piano, and some older-looking paintings on the wall, well-appointed but not rich.  A flight of stairs lead up to the second floor, but Miroslav leads them to the next room, a home office, where his desk is a mess of papers and files.  Sacha is set onto the carpet and immediately flops over onto her back to beg for belly rubs.  Miroslav sits at his desk and begins looking for the keys, searching drawers, his pockets, and finally finds them under a sheaf of papers.  There is a slight movement at the top of the stairs; a woman in a starched white nurse's uniform is standing there, beckoning to Miroslav urgently.

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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next half hour of game time, by Saturday, 2 October, next post is Sunday, or possibly Monday.  Hope all is well in the world with all of you.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 39):

Cloven hooves? Nolan thought with growing concern. Someone, or something, was out here, at the very least scouting the area. Maybe more. He shared a look with Jenkins who likewise noticed the strange footprints. Mills remained clueless and inexplicably seemed unconcerned even after Nolan pointed out the hoofprints.

"There has to be something here." he said matter-of-factly, thinking out loud. "We must have missed something. Everyone, everything, leaves traces. All we have to do is find what they overlooked." Yeah, sure, no problem. He kept the last statement to himself, to keep the confident façade intact. After Mills gave the all clear, Nolan stepped into the house and thoroughly searched the ground floor. He looked under and behind everything he could move, scraping away debris with his entrenching tool. He paid close attention to each wall and walkway, looking for any hidden doors or storage areas. Once he had satisfied himself by gathering anything even remotely suspicious and noting those items in his journal, he set his sights on the basement.

He prepared his shovel for use in case the way below was barred.


[OOC: Sorry it's late but I wasn't sure what other option I may have then to just respond anyway.]

Jack follows Spider's lead, short and to the point. He looks resolutely at the man and adds. "What happened on May 28th?"
If Miroslav runs upstairs in answer to the nurse's summons, Jack will follow immediately. He will not let the man out of his sight until he answers their questions.

In reply to Jack (msg # 44):

Spider says, "We need to talk about a couple of ladies, sir."  And he asks about Aundrea and Aunjali (spelling is likely wrong)...

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The Serbian Problem pt 10

Jack and Spider follow Miroslav up the stairs, to a bedroom that the nurse is standing by.  She lets him past her, but plants her sturdy form in the doorway; they can look over her shoulders to see a very frail-looking woman laying down on a bed, with Miroslav on his knees next to her, saying something in Serbian.  The woman looks very ill and Miroslav looks heartbroken.  She murmurs something too faint for the Agents to hear, and Miroslav reluctantly gets to his feet and goes back to the hallway, the nurse stepping aside for him to pass her by.

It is clear the situation is dire for the woman's health, and Miroslav is deeply shaken.  "The...Ambassador has to trust me to keep secrets.  I have only done what I must.  Now the reason for my discretion you can see - my beautiful wife is dying, and only the doctor we have found here in DC has been able to help her.  We will go downstairs and I will tell you what I know - what I think I know, anyway."  He stumbled down the stairs, back to the office room, and collapsed in his desk chair.
"My cousin Yuri came here last year.  I was able to get him a job at the Embassy, as a boilerman.  He told me something was strange, something was wrong, that he had bad dreams about the place.  I was in the middle of a great deal of paperwork, so I did not pay so much attention - he is - was - always a person who saw fanciful things no one else could.   In late May there were many meetings, some of them late, and my dear wife was not well.  Anika - my secretary - agreed to stay late so I could go home on 28 May.  Yuri told me the next day that there was something wrong, one of the security guards was dismissed that night, and that the next day a man came looking for Andreja, there was trouble of some kind. The man - I never knew his name-  was taken away by the Ambassador's personal bodyguard, Josif Drazko.  I was personally warned by the Ambassador to say nothing, or we would be sent back to Serbia, with no jobs.   I said as much to Janko when I observed him listening.  I have never seen the dismissed security guard, Branamir Brajik, or Josif Drazko again.  There was, the Ambassador said, some very rude argument and it was no longer acceptable for them to remain.  Shortly after the Ambassador's health declined and he left the running of the Embassy to me, and it has been a great burden.  I was not there for whatever happened, just told it had been bad and that Yuri and I would both be sent away if we did not keep quiet about it.   The Ambassador lives at 3315 Highland Place, but I am not sure if he is there or has gone to a spa in the Blue Ridge mountains for his health.  I have had no word at all from him for over a week.  Now my cousin Yuri, who I grew up with and have known for forty-five years, is dead.  There is no more time for silence."

Miroslav pulled a half-shredded handkerchief from his vest pocket and daubs at his eyes; he looks about ten years older than yesterday, and at the end of his tether.  "Anika might know more, but I am certain she would have been threatened to keep silent too.  She lives on the third floor at 5104 New Hampshire Avenue - she does not have a telephone herself, but this is her landlord's number."  He scribbles it down on a scrap of paper for them and gives them the keys.  "I don't have the information on the guards here, it's in a file at the Embassy, the large black filing cabinet in my office.  That little key will open it.  I beg you - please stop this thing.  Tell me what happened no matter what.  Secrets can no longer be kept.  My wife told me - there is no easy translation - In trouble, there must be a hero.  I risk all to give this to you."

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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc for the next hour of game time, by 9 October, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well.  Apologies for the day delay in posting, I had to drive back from Origins, and yes, happy to report I won a Cthulhu game.
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This message was last edited by the GM at 01:33, Mon 03 Jan 2022.

Field Assignment: Nolan pt 1
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Nolan pulled sickly weeds away from the root cellar door and noted that nothing was inside of any value; a load of rotted potatoes.  There was no basement to speak of.

Nolan reviewed the hoofprints again.  It might be a big goat, but the stride pattern was off...so he looked around some more, and found another very odd clue.  A piece of a candy bar, most likely a Baby Ruth bar, was being broken down further and hauled off by some ants just outside the fence, where the tracks were last visible.  Closer examination showed that it was easy to hop the fence at this point, because someone had stowed a wood crate in a patch of thick weeds, and there were scrape marks on it where the paint had come off the wood.  This was near a gravel patch that held no prints of any kind.  He went around the buildings again, finding a well-hidden metal chest covered with an oiled tarpaulin, half-buried under some dirt.  Inside was a knife-sharpened pencil and a notebook, and written on the flyleaf in a childish hand was "Omar Macey."  There were multiple entries in the notebook in the same handwriting, noting dates and times, weather conditions, height of the corn plants and observations - the same stuff that Nolan was doing.  There was also a tattered penny dreadful story about a Wild West cowboy adventure, and a folded newspaper from four weeks prior, wrapped around a sealed jar of hard candy.  Apparently once a month or so, this Omar made observations of the same farm.  The newspaper was The Arkham Gazette and mentioned an automobile crash near the University on the front page.  On the third page, there was a circled advertisement for a "monster hunter', from a reporter named Manny Dunworthy.

Nolan then observed Jenkins squeaking in Mills' ear, and the pedantic Professor was making notes on his tiny clipboard.

"Very good, Mr. Nolan," Mills the mouse said.  "Not everyone would have noticed that, I certainly didn't.  Jenkins has told me that Omar is on the payroll at the BPRD.  He'll have some pictures of the field for us to collect, and he's based in Arkham.  Nightfall is fast approaching and he'll be up and about.  You will need to be careful, though - some of his relatives are cannibals."

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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc for the next hour of game time, by 9 October, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well.  Apologies for the day delay in posting, I had to drive back from Origins, and yes, happy to report I won a Cthulhu game.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 46):

Spider says to Jack, "I think we will have a better chance of the ritual working if we can settle things down.  I say we try to solve the mystery, so whatever, or whomever it is, will leave willingly.  We'll try Anika first.  Mirosla, write a note to her that we can show her.  Then we'll find the guards' addresses and see if we can find them as well.  Once we get a resolution to the missing, we perform the ritual.  Sound good to you?"

In reply to The GM (msg # 47):

Finally a name! Nolan thought excitedly as he examined the contents of the small chest he had found. "Omar Macey. Ring any bells?" He said to Mills and Jenkins, showing them the notebook. This sparked a whispered conversation between the mice which Nolan took as a promising development.

Another name, "Manny Dunworthy." he said indicating the monster hunter add. No response that time.

Nolan acknowledged the professor's compliment with a nod. his eyebrows raised in upon learning that Omar was on the payroll. "Is he, now? Well that is interesting and it gives us a place to start. Then we can check in on our newspaper reporter," a pause as he searched the paper for his name again, "this, Manny Dunworthy."

A couple names, some candy, a newspaper. Not much but he finally felt that they were making progress. "Let's go see Mr. Macey, shall we?"

As he prepared to leave, Mills last comment stopped him short. "Wait, did you say cannibals?" Already knowing the answer and eager to move on he picked up the pace and heads for the car.

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[@GM: Congrats on the win!]

Field Assignment: Nolan pt 2

"Young Omar Macey is a half-ghoul," said Mills, tipping his glasses down on his fuzzy nose to look up at Nolan.  "His father was human.  His mother was not.   The ghoul population in Arkham is extensive and they have tunnels underneath most of the city, but I happen to know Omar's home is in the wooded graveyard by Hangman's Hill.  His relatives would be delighted to eat you, so we will have to use caution.  He often sells newspapers off of Main Street so we may be lucky enough to find him there."

The mice quickly followed Nolan to the Model T and scampered up to their perches on the dashboard.  Nolan drives towards Arkham, but with the sunlight gone, he makes a few wrong turns and it is well dark by the time he finds Main Street.  (rolling percent: Spot Hidden with die roller, 74%).  By the time they arrive, most businesses are closed and locked up tight.  Only a small diner on Main is still open, the counter serving working-class folk simple food.  Lights are on, on the top floor of the Arkham Gazette, but not the bottom floor, and the door is locked.  No one is lingering on the street, they're getting into cars or onto the jitney bus to get out of the city.  The general feeling is that the area is unsafe, and no one is sticking around after nightfall.   Jenkins is alertly watching every shadow, one paw on the needle rapiers on his belt, and Mills seems nervous too.  "I know that the Orne Library on Miskatonic University campus will be open late - the head librarian is a colleague of ours, Marcus Faulkner.  We can find shelter there if nothing else.  I would not like to risk your life again, Mr. Nolan."

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GM:  Actions, etc, for the next hour of game time, please respond by  Saturday 16 October, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well, or at least coping.
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The Serbian Problem pt 11

Miroslav dashes off a quick note to Anika Vukanovic, reading it in English to the agents.  "Dear Miss Vukanovic, I write this hoping you are recovering from your terrible shock and hope that you may grant me a favour, in speaking to the two gentlemen bearing this note.  I am preparing a letter of recommendation for you if you do not wish to ever return to the Embassy.  Please accept my thanks for your kind service."
He tells the two agents that the file with all the employees' names and contact information can be found in his office cabinet, and which key opens the cabinet; as soon as they say their farewells he is running back up the stairs to his wife, scooping up the fluffy little dog as he goes.

The two agents head to the next address, for Anika Vukanovic, an apartment building converted from a Victorian mansion with a decent view of a park.  She is on the third floor according to the signage, and the front door is open in the building.   No one is about, as this is the afternoon when most working-class folk will be at a job of some sort.  The building is clean, but shows sign of wear and tear.  They trudge up the stairs and go to knock on her door.  Nothing.  No sound from within.  An envelope has been shoved under her door; without much difficulty they can fish it out, and observe that once again, it's written in Serbian, in a flowing script handwriting, very feminine; a faint perfume of roses is on the paper.

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GM:  Actions, etc, for the next hour of game time, please respond by  Saturday 16 October, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well, or at least coping.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 50):

"Half-ghoul, eh." Nolan considers a moment before adding, "Then let's hope we meet the good half." Normally he would crack a ironic smile at his attempt at humor but couldn't bring himself to do it this time. Maybe because it's not actually a joke? He wondered.

After his misadventures in the Model-T put him in town too late to catch Omar selling papers, Nolan mood had darkened significantly after his evidentiary breakthroughs at the farm. Desperately wanting another win before the day ended, he briefly considers trying to pick the locked door of the newspaper. He wants to try and catch Manny Dunworthy in the office but his expertise in lockpicking was such that he would be better served to kick the door in preemptively. Deciding that breaking and entering would be detrimental to foster a good working relationship and feeling the darkness closing in around them Nolan considers their options. When a nervous Mills offers the library as an option to avoid risking his life, he shudders at the oblique reference to his experience in the warehouse and their choice is clear.

He didn't have to be told twice. Maybe we can gather more information on town history, Omar Macey and his people, or Manny Dunworthy's articles? He thinks hopefully. Nolan realizes that while he may not be most scholarly type he definitely has more experience there than in lockpicking.

"The library it is." Under his breath, he thinks aloud, "Let's get inside and see what Marcus has to say."

Jack doesn’t want to violate the sanctity of a sealed letter, but he’s willing to pry open the lock on the apartment door with a pen knife while Spider examines the envelope.
“I’m worried her life may be in danger,” he says out loud, justifying his action to himself and anyone listening. [OC Keeper please roll, I am in the woods with a poor connection!]
Once a look inside determines no apparent foul play, he will close it back up and they can depart.
He suggests they talk to someone on the security team next.

Spider may not be able to read Serbian, but he might be able to puzzle out a return address on the envelope, if there is one.

In reply to The GM (msg # 51):

The Serbian Problem pt 12
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Jack works on the door with his penknife, trying to pry the tumblers with the pick, and easily pops it open (7%, even the online die roller loves the PCs).  The door swings open onto an empty room; there is a bureau with the drawers askew, one lone stocking hanging from one of them, a bed that was hastily stripped of its linen and abandoned, and a complete absence of anything else.  The tiny closet was empty.  The woman had left in a good amount of hurry, but not so much that she'd left anything of importance behind - just a silk stocking with a run in it, and a couple of yellow chrysanthemums stuck into a cheap glass vase, very wilted.   A faint tracing of dust was on the windowsill, enough to guess at the occupant leaving a few days ago.   The room is plain and small, with only one window, a small table supporting the vase of dying flowers, the small bureau and a bed.

Spider studied the letter; it was definitely Cyrillic, and while some of the letters he understood, the meaning was not so easy.  There was no address, as such, just a fancy triplet of words on the letter, as if the person who had written the letter also had it delivered by hand.  Something about it seemed familiar, too, as if he'd seen the handwriting before - some time earlier this year.  The envelope is of good quality, the paper is heavyweight, and the perfume expensive, like something  Cressida would wear.  The two men were there in the room when the clatter of shoes on the stairs was heard, with the high pitch of womens' voices chattering away.  Someone was heading up to this floor.

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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next hour of game time, by Saturday, 23 October, next post on Sunday.  Hope you are all doing well, and that the Dark Young don't chase Jack out in the woods.
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In reply to Nolan (msg # 52):

Field Assignment: Nolan pt 3
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Nolan followed the directions of the mice, parking the Model T on a side street and hurrying through the gathering gloom towards the granite edifice that was the Orne library.  There were lamps burning in front, showing the marble steps leading up to the main doors, but Mills told him to head around to the west wall, where a much plainer door was hidden behind some bushes.  "Knock hard, he might be shelving books somewhere inside,"  Mills said.  There was an odd gibbering sound, high up in the trees of the university grounds.  Nolan thumped the door, as Jenkins eyed the darkness.   It took a moment but then the door was unlocked and pulled open.  An elderly man stood there in a dull grey tweed suit, glaring at Nolan from behind round wire-framed glasses.  "And what is it you want - oh, Mills.  Pleasure to see you old man.  Get in."  He stepped back, to show an office room with neat stacks of paperwork on a large desk.  As soon as Nolan was clear of the door, the librarian slammed it shut, locked it and barred it, tapping a series of metal studs embedded in the dark wood.  A faint glowing symbol flickered across the door, one of complex intertwining lines.  "That should hold.  Been a few busy nights.  Lost an undergrad yesterday."
"Marcus Faulkner, this is Christopher Nolan, an Agent with BPRD.  We're begging for your kindness in putting us up for the evening."  Mills introduced Nolan.
"Hmmph," Faulkner said.  "Must be damned shorthanded then, I know you lot like to travel in pairs at the least.  You can sleep in the lounge.  Gods know Ben spent enough nights here back in the day."
"We're in town looking at that farm again," Mills said.  "The old Pierce farm."
"Hmmph," Faulkner replied.  "Stay out of the tunnels, the ghouls are riled up."
Mills blinked.  "Do you know why ?"
"No idea.  There's a tin of beans and some blankets in the old chest.  I had dinner already.  How's Ben ?  How's Jack, David, Cameron, Irina, Mikaela ?   Hmmph, bet she's probably had another baby by now."
"Ben's doing very well, and we are seriously understaffed in DC," Mills said.  "Jack and David are out on assignment.  Irina...well, there was an incident.  Cameron.....well.  You know how these things can go.  Mikaela had twins."
"Time flies," Faulkner said.  "Go off to the lounge and tell me about it tomorrow.  I've got to get on the radio, waiting on a call-in from overseas.  Good night to you."   He set off towards the staircase in the main library, abandoning Nolan and the mice to a quiet area with couches and overstuffed chairs, near a lavatory.  The afforementioned chest had a Roman history textbook on it, with some abandoned notes, but there were some blankets inside, a tin of beans and an opener.  Not a fine establishment, but it was quiet and safe.  And if sleep was hard to come by, there were only about ten thousand books to choose from, on this floor anyway.
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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next hour of game time, by Saturday, 23 October, next post on Sunday.  Hope you are all doing well, and that the Dark Young don't chase Jack out in the woods.
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In reply to The GM (msg # 56):

Grateful to be safely indoors, especially upon hearing the news that an undergraduate had been 'lost', Nolan settled in for a long night and offered his thanks to Faulkner. Once their host departed, Nolan tried to relax and enjoy a spoonful or two of beans. It became painfully apparent, however, that he would be doing neither. Far too wound up to finish his meager fare or relax, he exchanged pleasantries with his diminutive colleagues and walked into the stacks.

If he were honest with himself he must admit that he wasn't particularly adept at conducting research but he had no intention of wasting an entire night surrounded by books, however unintended. Besides, he thought, when in Rome...

As he navigated the forest of bookshelves, he was intimidated by the sheer enormity of choice with which he was presented and found it hard to get started. He knew he had to gather information on town history (as it relates to supernatural experiences specifically) Omar Macey and his people, and gather a sample of Manny Dunworthy's articles as well as his personal history. But he couldn't get it all at the same time so where to start?

"Omar Macey." He declared out-loud for no particular reason. Didn't matter where he started anyway, he would get to it all eventually. Happy to have settled on his first research target, he headed to the library's card catalogue.

In reply to The GM (msg # 55):

Spider decided to figure out the letter at a later time.  He slipped it into his pocket and turned to the women coming up the stairs and produced his government ID.  Sometimes in places like this it was the wrong move, but he had no cover credentials on him, so he decided to offer a version of the truth, and a brief glance at his ID card.  "Excuse me ladies, my name's Mallory. I'm with the federal government.  We're looking for the woman who used to rent this flat.  Can you help us?"

As the female voices approach, Jack too will pull out his government ID. He prepares to lean into his Southern accent and turn on a bit of charm. After Spider speaks, he adds with a gallant-yet-concerned air, "We're afraid the lady may be in danger, and we want to offer our assistance. Please, any information might help. It may be a matter of life and death!" (All of which Jack believes to be true, incidentally.)
On the extreme off-chance that the arriving parties are hostile, Jack's .45 is holstered in easy reach!