You have all received a letter from Dr. Isaac Butler, a New England physician. Butler is a hard-working physician, forty years of age.

Perhaps he is a trusted colleague, a friend, a member of the same club as you, or even your physician. In any case, you have known him for many years. Although he seldom made mention of the fact, he is the descendant of a wealthy Southern family; and, following the recent death of his elderly uncle, Dr. Butler and his wife have traveled to Louisiana to settle the estate.

Dear Friend,

Hannah and I arrived at the old Butler  Plantation two nights ago, in the midst of one of the wildest storms I've ever witnessed. It's quite calm right now and no damage was done, but our proximity to the Gulf of Mexico is no doubt responsible for the savage weather.

I've had no opportunity for sign-seeing whatsoever; sorting through the affairs of the estate has consumed virtually all or my time. I find it puzzling that, in these parts, the Butler legacy is spoken of in such strange, half-whispered tones. The residents of Champillon, the nearest town, reacted with a queer furtiveness the other day when we stopped to ask for directions. One fray-haired patriarch went so far as to warn us away from the place altogether, but refused to elaborate. I'm beginning to think that these bumpkins are as superstitious a lot as our bucolic Yankees!

Since our arrival, my wife Hannah has not slept well. She seems quite unnerved, but cannot explain her vague apprehensions. While I myself have not noticed anything amiss, I can sympathize with the sense of isolation Hannah feels here; my ancestors were never gregarious folk, and the location of the Butler Plantation reflects this reticence.

I was rather disappointed to find that the old place is quite decayed and in need of repair; my late uncle appears to have been unable to prevent it from falling into neglect. If a suitable arrangement can be made with my cousin, Hannah and I are likely to sell the place off; but I doubt we'll get more than a modest sum for it. Who knows, we may decide to have the place fixed up first - in which case you'll have to pay a visit to Lord and Lady Butler at the Plantation!

Give my regards to one and all; I shall ring you upon my return.
Sincerely,
Isaac

As you were about to meet to discuss the letter in a local lounge, one of you received an urgent telegram, sent by Dr. Butler:

LOCALS WERE RIGHT STOP SOMETHING DEFINITELY WRONG
HERE STOP YOUR PRESENCE URGENTLY REQUIRED STOP WILL
EXPLAIN SITUATION UPON YOUR ARRIVAL STOP

BUTLER

The fastest way to get to Louisiana was by train, and you had to rush to the station in order to catch today's engine.

You all barely made it, rushing up to the train as it pulled away from the platform. Once inside, you were able to find an empty booth, which allows you the opportunity re-acquaint yourselves with each other and to discuss the mysterious letter.

The clacking wheels of the train provide a soft undertone to your conversation, as do the gentle murmurs of other passengers talking with each other in the adjacent booths.

When you arrive in New Orleans, you'll need to hire a car or board the twice-daily bus to take you onwards to Champillon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:05, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

Sliding herself into the padded seat, Maxine utters a soft sigh. Age is starting to take it's toll on her face, yet her ashen coloured eyes remains as clear and aware as when you were last together.

Taking a quick breath as she calmly looks across her former acquaintances, she opens her mouth as she's about to speak, pauses then breaks out in a short laugh.

"Ohh forgive me friends, I nearly forgot how long it's been since we were all together. Well, nearly all of us at least."

"Regardless, it is good to see you again, even if it might have been under different circumstances"
This message was last edited by a game editor at 15:09, Fri 16 Apr 2021.

Gabrielle looks up from her satchel, where she was making sure nothing important was lost or disordered in the rush to make the train.  Fortunately it appears that all is in order.

The quiet professor looks troubled.

"Yes, it is wonderful to see you all again, and obviously Dr. Butler has my help if he needs it... but I'm not certain where an interest in comparative religion will solve any troubles.  Hopefully it is nothing dire and he just needs support and backing of familiar faces."