George Smith P.I. (Pulp Science)

[The Walox]

George Smith Private Eye
Chapter One - The Little Men From Mars
Arcadia Alexandria, May 13th 1936, 2:29 A.M.

“Three, Two, One,” April Cardinal held the small pendant watch in her gloved hand. The ancient time piece had been a gift from her maiden aunt and she could feel the vibrations created by it ticks and tocks through the wool skin of her glove. She snapped the marred silver cover shut, secured its delicate tarnished chain around her neck and gave a shiver.

April hated her job as a police officer; the cool foggy Alexandrian nights did nothing to improve her disposition towards her position. But the cool fog, the late hour, the heckling of the cities workmen, none of that mattered now; her shift was over. However she remained on the old cobbled street corner waiting.

She stomped her feet, rubbed her arms, checked the old silver watch several times and rubbed her arms again in an attempt to warm herself against the cold Alexandrian night. Then she heard it the thing she was waiting for; the sound of tap shoes on worn cobbles accompanied by a few scattered bars from Moulin Rouge. April’s heart warmed her in an instant, it was strange how just one goof ball could chase off the cold. An instant later a man covered in soot wearing a leather driving cap and brandishing a large chimney sweep swung around the nearest lamp post and deposited himself at April’s feet.

“Evening Majorette! Missth me?”He managed to speak with both a cockney accent and a lisp. “Hey Rodger!, it’s about time you showed up, I was going to leave you for dead.”

A mischievous smile played itself across Rodger’s handsome face; he made to grab April’s shoulders and seeing that she had just cleaned her elaborate uniform thought better of it. The slender man leaned his chimney sweep against the nearest building and placing his arms akimbo leaned closer to his pretty girlfriend, “You’ll nefer gueth what I found today!”
April though for a moment before responding, “A new pair or tap shoes in a gutter?” Rodger laughed.

“Yesth, but come on sthilly do you think I would keep you waiting for THAAAAT?” He rolled his eyes and took April’s gloved had in his sooty one and bade her to follow. . .

Arcadia Alexandria, May 13th 1936, 11:03 A.M. 47B Graham Street

George Smith’s apartment was a small affair two dingy rooms in an old Victorian row house. It was in this house that the man ran the business that paid his bills, and kept him under the poverty line. But to George his line of work just came naturally to him; it was what he did, what he loved.

What? the reader may ask himself could one man love so much that he would stay poor and underfed to do? Now that is the question, was it the chase that George loved so much, was it the challenge, was it the gratitude he felt from his clients when he finished their case? Or was it something else that kept this extraordinary man (who would share his place in history with other great men of mystery, like Der Blanc and Dr.Graham) at in this gritty state of poverty? Let us press on and see.

A knock came at the door to George’s apartment and a moment later there was a scraping of keys in the lock an instant later a large a red haired ogre of a woman dressed in an apron and worn carpet slippers entered the room, “SMITH!!!!” she shirked, ”You have visitor, another one of your harlots; she interrupting my soaps.” The gigantic women snorted and left the room nearly knocking the smaller figure that followed behind her to the ground. The petite figure that was pushed aside by the ogress was her complete opposite.

The smaller of the two women was left alone in the room after the door slammed shut. She was a pretty girl (about 5’8”) with a slender figure and platinum blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in gentle curls. Her eyes where large and a glittering glacial blue in color, her nose had a slight upturn at the end her completion was tinged with a slight even tan; dressed in her light yellow sundress and her low shoes she looked like somebody’s kid sister.
The girl Adjusted her rectangular frameless glasses on her nose and called out, rather timidly for she only new George Smith in passing, “Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith? I, I, I’m sorry to barge in here like this but I need your help.”

[Galvain7]

Some people have bad days. Some people have bad weeks.

George Smith has bad lifetimes. At least it seemed that way to him. Now, Merciful Tehlu frowns mightily behind his great silver mask at the idea of reincarnation, obviously, for he is an impatient diety. But on this particular day it seemed to one George Smith that he was trapped in a never ending cycle of lifetimes, each slightly more horrible than the last.

But what can you do? At least Tehlu understands. Mostly. Eventually things loop back on themselves, like the changing seasons and you get so that nothing surprises you anymore, so long as you remember the rules. Be polite, dress for the weather and don't forget to feed the troll.

Oh! And do not try and down a bottle of Ol' Blind Scotties' Black No. 5 all by yourself. That should be in there somewhere too. Although that last one is less George's fault and more the fault of that craven witch who 'hired' him two days ago. When it was all said and done, there was no money, and all George had to show for it was a nasty cold and a severe case of 'shot in the face with a shotgun.' At least Telhu has a sense of humor, as evidenced by the fact that the shotgun in question was loaded with one of those neat bean-bag rounds and not buckshot, so that George had a nasty bruise and a cracked jaw instead of a missing face.

Anyway, without money to buy aspirin the only 'pain killer' left in the house was a bottle of Ol' Blind Scotties' a rare thankful customer had sent for Candle Mass. And of course the landlady shut off the water. Something about a bad check at the bank.

And even know, with a cold, a hangover, a face bruise the size of Polaria, no running water and no heat, George Smith couldn't get left alone. It was like a freaking soap opera over here.

George opened one swollen eye to behold that the orgess was gone and in her place stood some sort of pixie.

"Uh, Look... Miss- I'd love to help but I'm in a bit of trouble myself. I am recovering from my last job, you see, and I cannot be much help to...."

"Sigh. Merciful Tehlu. Alright, I'll listen. But only over breakfast- and you're buying. I figure that's worth a good referral right? Heh. Let's go. Mind the orge on the way out."

George shugs on a faded duster with a grunt leads the bewildered pixie woman to a corner cafe about half a block down from the apartment. The smell of strong coffee is like a wave radiating across the street. The place has large windows despite the bad neighborhood and deep cozy black leather boothes. The wood floor is scuffed and walls are bear brick, but the place is very clean and even has table clothes, albeit faded ones. The sign above the door reads 'C'est la vie' in copperplate neon lights.

"This place has the best coffee outside of Maredo- no joke. Alright, Miss, what seems to be the trouble?"

[The Walox]

Coffee shops have a universal virtue, they all smell great; especially this one. There was nothing here to distract from that wonderful smell of brewing coffee. To be as polite as can be, and to put it simply, George looked like hell. Which was too bad, he was actually rather handsome.

These along with the gratitude that this place was cheap and the mental note to come here again, were the thoughts that passed through April’s mind. She wasn’t as nervous any more, the cheap but wonderful coffee and the fantastic scone she ordered seemed to sooth her nerves; she was much more confident now.

“You can just call me April”, she said as she set her empty coffee cup down on the worn table cloth. April gave a warm smile as she continued, “we’ve actually have met before Mr. Smith, I work for the police and work the museum beat. You’ve been by there quite a bit.” Her dark eyebrows furrowed.

“but as to why I called on you, last night as I finished my shift,” her voice went lower, and given the collective chatter of the shop’s patrons George leans in closer to hear,”My sweetheart Rodger, he has a second job, more of a hobby really, as a chimney sweep, met me and said he found something, something, I, I,” she was becoming nervous again, “I can’t really explain and with the commissioner cracking down on vandals there isn’t any way I could report it without losing my job. But I can’t get it out of my mind, I have to do something, but I don’t know what.”

She paused, removing her glasses, “I don’t have much, “This was obviously true, her little yellow dress was thread bare in places and lovingly patched in others, her shoes where worn but carefully polished, and on closer examination one could see where she had deftly patched one of the arms of her glasses with tape,” but I’ll pay whatever you like, I have a bit in savings that I can give you now and I can ask for an advance on my pay check, and my royalties from my publisher.”

April caught her breath, and resolutely undid the clasp that held the minute silver pendant watch around her pretty neck, “Here, you can take this as collateral, just as a show of good will, it was a gift from my great Aunt. She was the traveling companion to Doctor Graham. It’s really valuable, please, just to show you that I mean business.” She placed the watch lovingly on the table;leaning closer on her elbows, anxious.

George can detect a strong background count radiating from the pendant watch, The watch is silver, rather battered and a bit smaller than a half dollar, it is feverishly warm to the touch and its ticks and tocks have a strange soothing seductive quality

[Galvain7]

George settles into the booth with familiar ease and places his order. He's obviously a regular.

"I'll have a burger, fries, coffee, and whatever passes for 'fruit,' please. Then, take a raw egg and a half a cup of milk and mix it together in a glass, then add paprika, pepper, and green tea leaves. Just tell Gus I want a Heathen Prairie Oyster- he'll know what it is. Thanks Maggie."

He then leans back and listens to April's tale.

"Sweet Benevolent Tehlu!" George thought to himself as he took it all in. "Why are the decent ones always, always poor?"

George let out a long painful sigh, and brushed the watch away with one hand while leaning back in the booth. "I don't want your family heirloom Miss- just... just put it away, okay? Let just say that if I do this for you.. you owe me a favor alright? In addition to payment for services rendered later. But we can figure that out when we know what we're dealing with. Now, lets just hash over some details."

George leans back and rubs his face bruise gingerly.

"So, you're sweetheart, Rodger, he's a chimney sweep? And he showed you something that upset you, and you are afraid to go to the police because you don't want to loose your job, is that about right? And what do you want me to help you with, specifically?"


I do not know how to do the d6 style dice roller right now, so I'll just tell you the skills I am going to use and how many dice, and you can give me the results.

First, I'd like to do an Assensing test on the pocket watch, which should tell me what sort of magic is in the watch and what it is used for. That's a total of 8 dice for that test.

Then I'll do a Current Events knowledge skill check, to see if I know anything about the rash of vandalisms that have been going on. Thats 7 dice for that test.

[The Walox]

April blushed prettily at George’s refusal to take the watch, slightly embarrassed at having been so rash she slips it back on. As Maggie serves George his heathen prairie oyster April slides her glasses back on; she nibbles on a scone thoughtfully. “How do I explain? Will he believe me?”

“It’s difficult to explain, you know without you, erm, thinking I’m crazy,” She set the scone back down, and spoke rather shyly holding her arms in her lap, as though embarrassed about the whole mess, ”It just, well I, I don’t know how to put it, but I think they were marshins,” She spoke the last three words very rapidly and as quietly as she could, and looked at George almost apologetically.

“The things Rodger showed me, It totally sounds kooky, but I can’t think of any other way to explain it, It was at the abandoned Stanton manor at 23 Mires Grove, and they could have been goblins but they haven’t been sighted in Norova for centuries, and they had this large steel capsule, and all these weird runes all over the floor, I just don’t know, Here let me show you,” She grabbed a napkin and began to cover its surface with intricate geometrical designs.

April began to blush again as she handed George the napkin, “I wouldn’t bother you about it but I don’t want anybody to get hurt just because I didn’t look into it, and I can’t report it because I can’t afford to lose my job. Please Mr. Smith; I don’t know what to do.”

The designs on the napkin are framilliar to George; some sort of sommonig circle. A few of the other symbols are difficult to read but can be decifered simply as the ancient Alexandrian word for flame, "brond."

George can tell that the watch is some kind of focus; it must have been a personal item for many, many years, but he can’t identify the magic coming from it, it’s unlike anything he has ever felt; April doesn’t seem to notice it.

There have been many reports of vandalism lately; the police and the monarchy have been encouraging everybody to keep the city clean as of late. This has much to do with the first public appearance of Dr. Graham and Ms. Ruby Cardinal in a few decades (Dr. Graham is the Sherlock Holmes of this world). Seeing as they are International heroes at this point it is imperative to the Alexandrian brass that the capital is in tip top shape, so as to make a good impression.

[Galvain7]

George rubs his chin to hide his irritation.

"Martians? Well, I'm not so sure about that but I suppose... "

Just then, George notices that April has drawn a summoning circle. All previous trace of irritation is gone. Oh bugger me.

"Okay, Miss, I'll take a look at these symbols of yours. Don't worry about your job. If there's something fishy about all this I'll go to the police myself and say that it was an 'anonymous tip off', alright? This sweetheart of yours, Rodger- he was the one that showed you these symbols? Can I meet him?"



Alright, this calls for a Arcana roll, 7 dice, to determine the type of entity such a summoning circle would attract.

[The Walox]

“Rodger? Yeah, here,” A wave of relief seems to have spread across April’s face a she scribbles some addresses on a fresh napkin ,”You can find him just about any time at the Titan Theater, he will be the one in the sparkliest leotard. Trust me you can’t miss him he has a rather nasty lisp. If you need me I’ll ether be at my apartment, or near the National Museum. Thank you for your time Mr. Smith, I’m very grateful for your understanding.”

April payed the bill when Maggie came back, tipping her with a stick of gum as she used the last of her money paying the bill. She then slide out of the booth gathering up her faded handbag as she did, as she made to leave she thanked George one more time, “Thank you Mr. Smith you’re a peach, I could never thank you enough.” She seemed to radiate relief as she left the dinner.

The napkin that April handed George this time has a number of addresses on it, included is the address of Rodger’s theater, his apartment and a Bijean tea house where he likes to spend his free time writing poetry and mending his tights. April’s apartment address is also listed, as well as the office of her publisher and the streets of her beat. She was also kind enough to include both Rodger’s and her own schedules.

After examining the summoning circle that April has drawn George’s stomach seems to hit the floor. As though confirming his belief that he simply has an unlucky life, the summoning circle happens to be the worst kind. Somebody or something seems to be trying to summon a demon, and not the impish kind that steal your socks and kick you in the posterior ether, the big kind. The nasty kind, the worst kind; with the proper knowhow this circle could summon the Devil himself.

Upon further inspection George can determine that by combining this circle with various other enchantments and spells, the summoner was trying to conjure a particular demon, though it’s name is never given.

[Galvain7]

George watches Ms. Cardinal leave with a look of perplexed humor on his battered face.

"Peach? Well, I've been called a lot of things, but never peach. Most people go for something more blasphemous. Ah well. It's all just... peachy- isn't it?"

George turns the rune laden napkin towards him and frowns at it for a long while, before cramming it into his duster pocket with a grunt.

"Bugger me. I can think of three possibilities for this little artwork here. One: Somebody with more time than common sense staggered onto something they should not have, and his mucking about with powers that should not be mucked about with. Two: Somebody knew precisely what they're mucking with, and then yanked a demon straight from hell because, hey, when has that ever not worked out right? Tehlu's flaming gonads! And three, Ms. Cardinal the oh so poor and innocent is not telling me everything. With any luck at all, I'll wind up with my soul on the dark one's dinnerplate by Sunday. George you lucky punk."

With that George finishes his dinner, pulls on his coat with a gritted moan and heads off down the street.

"This is over my head. I should call the Special Arcane Service."

The thought stopped George dead on the sidewalk. It was times like this when George wondered whether his life was being dictated by some cruel omnipotent third party dedicated to making him a character in a sadistic game. Who else but some twisted freak would insert such a thought into George's head?

The Special Arcane Service (SAS) was Alexandria's premier magical defense and intelligence gathering branch, responsible only to their minister and the monarch. 'George Smith' was once one of their top field men for years before becoming well, George Smith. George did not regret his years of service to the nation and the crown, because they taught him many useful things- like never trust anyone talking about nation and crown. He had given up so many years of his elven life he had legitimately lost count, only to be dumped by the SAS after a botched run in Polaria left him with a broken heart (literally) and lungs that were adverse to breathing. The resulting operation cost him a peice of his vital essence- the core of his magical being. So he was declared a 'broken asset', had his files burned and a new identity constructed for him by the state.

No, George Smith did not hate the SAS, but sometimes he dreamed about making their faces melt.

"Ugh. All this... negative energy is making my lungs hurt. Okay, time to get to work."

George ducks into an alleyway for some privacy, as things were about to get spooky.


Alright, step one is to summon about 4 watcher spirits, George's specialty. The first pair will go watch April Cardinal, and report back to him if anything goes wrong. The other two will go to the address where the runes may be found and 'bump' it for wards. (All I want them to do is tell me if there are any magical barriers in place around the site).

I have a couple setting questions: You know Urchins? The grubby little boys with the newspaper hats and the cockney accent? Do they exist in your city and if they do can George pay for their services? I need someone to run to the library and get some material for me. Next question: Based on George's experience and know how (plus high charisma) is there anybody he could go to help ID the runes?

I will eventually just go to the runes myself, but I'm trying to be... cautious here.


Then, after consulting the schedule, George decides to go find this 'Rodger' fellow, at whatever sleezy arthouse he might be found in.

[The Walox]

With the watcher spirits off on their assorted errands George sets off for the Titan Theater, the place that April said Rodger would be. The Titan was completed only a few years ago and stood as a monument to modern architectural innovation; a lavish art deco masterpiece. As George walks along the avenue to the theater he can’t help but feel the glances of the well to do in this new upscale neighborhood. As he draws nearer to the leviathan structer he can’t help but notice two figures in obnoxious sequined costumes handing out pamphlets to passersby; one of them has a nasty lisp.

“Ticketths, ticketths!” he is wearing a sequined lab coat and tall old fashioned riding boots, “come and thsee the thsow of the thsentury! Get your ticketths to Graham! The Muthsical!!!” This man must be none other than Rodger.

Right! The watcher spirits haven’t anything to report on April yet except that she seems upset, not in danger just emotionally shaken.

The other watcher spirits have made it to the site and report that there are some rather amateurish barriers in place, nothing that you have to worry about.

Your magical contact is the very attractive Doctor Constance Snow, the head researcher at the national museum in Arcadia. She has worked with you before when you where in the SAS, she never knew that you where an agent however.

[Galvain7]

Feeling self conscious under the glares of the well heeled and well breed, George makes a mental note to post some advertizements here. You never know what sort of debauched snooping the well to do want at first glance, but at least they can pay to learn about their neighbors little hobbies.

George slouches up to the guadily clad hawker who must be Rodger and says,

"Sir? I am Mr. Smith, and I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Ms. April Cardinal. I have been sent to answer a few questions. Would you mind taking a step off your shift for a moment? I promise I will be very brief."

[The Walox]

"You mean my exth?" He laughs at the sudden look of shock on George's face,"Dont look thso thsupristhed I justht brook up with her like fifteen minuteths ago, it juthst wathsnt working." He smiled goodnatuered at George, waiting to be questioned.

[Galvain7]

Momentarily taken aback, George recovers masterfully, thinking to himself:
"Ex? Huh. Guy's not so bright."

"I have a few questions regarding something you showed Ms. Cardinal very early this morning. Tell me everything you know about these drawings. How did you find them? Do you know who made them? I ask that you be as through and truthful as possible."

[The Walox]

“The drawingths ? “Rodger responds brightly, “I think that the martinths did, they were danthsing around them and chanting, Yeah Martinths, little green guyths in thshiny thsuits,oh and their waths thiths guy in thiths long robe muttering thsomething about the Printhcethss of the Durge, thsome thspooky thsuff like that,” Rodger bit his pointer finger in thought, “ come to think about it the martinsh didn’t thseem to be too happy to be there. I thought that it waths all a bit fithshy thso I found April and thshowed her the methss thinking that thshe would know what to do. I withs I knew more but it made me nervouths, and I didnt thstay to find out more, thaths all I got.”

Just as Rodger finishes his soliloquy George receives a message from one of his spirits. In a rare fit of intelligence the spirit gives George the message in the form of a vision, it seems to last several minutes, but in reality it lasts a split second. I follows thus.

April Cardinal stood at the receptionist’s desk in the city police station, asking for permission for leave between quiet sobs. The thin faced woman from the counter gives April a sympathetic smile and enters the office behind her, a moment later there is a fit of shouting and a balding middle aged man slams the door open and approaches the slender form of April; he stands within an inch of her face breathing like a raging hippo.

“You want leave!!” he shrieks, and adds in a condescending tone, “just because your sugar daddy left you!!!” He grabs her by the arm, “NOW, listen here you lazy harlot, your fired, GOT THAT!!! And now you’re going to cry? Get out of here NOW!!”

He releases her with a shove and as bit of an afterthought throws a right hook catching the poor girl full in the left eye shattering her glasses, she lands unceremoniously on the floor in a heap, bleeding from her cuts sobbing. The man turns to the receptionists who back away in terror,”call security; get this filth out of here.”

Two uniformed officers come and lead the poor unfortunate out of the building and off of the property, they gently seat her on a nearby park bench, one of them offers her his handkerchief. They seem very sad to leave April there but return to the station to heed the requests of their beastly commissioner. April crys.

[Galvain7]

"Alright then Rodger. Please keep this little interview on the hush hush, alright? I mean, Martians? They might put you away. Have a nice day now."

George mentally orders the watcher spirit to 'save' that vision ("Can they even do that?") and hurries down the street at a brisk clip, then takes a trolly car nearest to where April is, hopefully finding her at her park bench.

[The Walox]

April lays on the bench on her side, her eyes are red from crying and her left eye is swolen and starting to bruise. She appears to be done crying, and dosent seem to notice George as he approches.

Her platinum curls are dischevled and she appaers to have gotten blood on her threadbare dress, in her left hand she clutches a bloodstained hankercheif. The people that walk by the bench pay her no mind and the owner of a nearby bookshop eyes her suspiciously.

[Galvain7]

"Ms. Cardinal? Ms. Cardinal? What happened to you?"

George gracefully slides onto the park bench and gently holds April by the shoulders and lifts her into a sitting position.

"Here. This should help with the pain."

George gentle waves his hand over her cut and casts a healing charm.

[The Walox]

April gently lifts a slender hand to her face, feeling the where her bruise was. She heaves a great sigh, ”I,I, Rodger broke up with me,” the tears begin to run down her pretty face in a silent torrent, she continues her voice quavering a bit.

“It was such a shock, I went to ask for the day off, an, and I got fired, the commissioner hit me; he’ll get away with it too he always get away with whatever he wants. He, br, broke my glasses,” She took the crumpled frames from her pocket, “after he broke them when he hit me he stepped on them, I, I don’t have another pair, an, an, and,” she was losing whatever hold she had on her sorrow, “I cant seeee more than ten feet without them,”

She said some other things but they were drenched in sobs and unrecognizable as human speech. She grabbed George’s arm with both of hers and seemed to snuggle closer, crying her heart out. She was soft, and warm, and her lovely hair smelt of strawberries; being held by April Cardinal felt very nice indeed even if she was beside herself with grief.

But even this was not enough to mask the strange magic George felt coming from the ancient pendant hung around April’s neck. It seemed to pulse even stronger now as though this young woman’s pain concerned it made it mad with protective fury. Not an evil magic, but a loveing one, it was difficult for George to interpret.

[Galvain7]

"Shhh. Ms. Cardinal don't fret about it okay? Rodger is the one who got a bad deal. Trust me, I know all about it- I'm older than I look."

"I am very concerned about your supervisor hitting you. That's not right- at all. First, we'll get you some new glasses. Then I'd like you to pay a visit to my lawyer, and we'll file charges. Assault, battery, unlawful termination and slander, for the lawsuit. Conduct Unbecoming an Officer, assault and unlawful battery for the official police inquiry. We can get him fired and get you so some compensation for the loss of your job. Now, I will not take no for an answer on this one. Do it for you, and Aracadia. A bad cop is worse than a criminal any day."

George finishes his soliloquy and gently moves Ms. Cardinal away from him. He passes her a handkerchief. However pleasant it might be to be held by such a woman said woman was still a client, albeit an nonpaying one. It was unethical to fraternize with clients and immoral to take advantage of a grieving woman's feelings- no matter how long it has been since George had been held. Especially so.

"After we get you new glasses I need you to go to my lawyer on your own. I still have that... problem to handle that you brought to my attention this morning. Now, take my hand and lets see that eye doctor. Keep the broken glasses."


Alright, first thing George will do is head over to his apartment and get anything he has to pawn for new eye glass money. If that's not enough he'll steal from the landlady. She's a ogre-witch woman anyways. George has one month of a low lifestyle, so liquidating all of his assets besides his gun and spooky supplies should do the trick.

Then, George and April will find the eye doctor and get a new pair of glasses made. Its also worth noting that April would still be on the police's insurance plan for the eyeglasses. Since the bully boss fired her on the spot without the traditional two weeks notice termination, the eye doctor will still believe she's an employee. It'll take a few days for the police bureaucracy to catch up to the fact that April is gone, aided by the fact that it is Thursday- i.e. the letter informing the eye doctor that April Cardinal is no longer a cop sits in the mailbox over the weekend. Keeping that in mind, George will use his high charisma to help hasten the doctor along with getting the new glasses made- after all, "The poor girl has got to see doctor! She suffers from terrible headaches without the glasses! Please, please hurry with a new pair!"

Next, George will compose a brief missive to his lawyer explaining April's predicament and desire for a law suit- indicating that the lawyer should take a statement from the other secretary at the police station as a witness, and submit the broken glasses to the police as evidence. If said lawyer needs more witnesses, he can use George, who saw the whole thing via spirit. Its a legitimate evidence in a world with magic. Payment can come from the damages settlement of the suit.

Just to be clear though- there will be three court actions against the bully boss.
1. Criminal suit for the assault, battery, unlawful termination and slander.
2. Civil suit for the cost of glasses and legal fees incurred from the first action.
3. Police inquiry about one officer assaulting another.

It's worth mentioning that the bully boss could settle out of court--- for a substantial payment to April, but that doesn't solve the third court action, which is an internal police matter. Heh.

And finally! George will then use the eye doctor's phone to schedule an appointment with Dr. Constance Snow for this evening, pleading urgency if he has to.

That stunt with the insurance? I'm proud of that one. That's making bureaucracy work for you. Heh.


As they walk down the street George says to April:
"And Ms. Cardinal? Your locket is special. I don't ever want you to take that off, ever, even in the bathtub, okay?"

[The Walox]

May 13th 10:03 P.M.

Everybody has their moments, for George this day, it was the way he had helped Miss Cardinal. Sure it meant stealing from his landlady, and selling some of his possessions, but to help those less fortunate than himself (Tehlu help those poor, poor, souls) and stick it to the system at the same time made his chest swell with pride.

Earlier that day he had sent out a call to his old friend Dr. Snow, the Mana expert at the national museum. She had remembered George, though they hadn’t spoken in quite some time; and she seemed more than eager to do some field work.

As George closed the front door to his apartment building he was greeted with a cheery hello by a woman in the street. Dr. Snow was the daughter of two Polarian expatriates who moved to Alexandria to “get away from it all”. Her Bahnian heritage was obvious, she stood at roughly six foot with silver bond hair and dazzling blue eyes; she was very pretty.

Dr. Snow leaned with her back against her black and red sports car; she wore combat boots and khaki trousers with large pockets and she had the top few buttons of her flannel shirt undone. Her long flaxen hair was pulled back in a tail and at thirty-four she didn’t look a day over twenty –seven.

“By, Lord, you haven’t changed a bit. Still roughing it eh? I keep telling you that the university could use a crack spook like yourself.”She laughed, her voice was deep and smooth with a posh Alexandrian accent to boot.

Just a few things you should know,

A. Constance is a mage as well.
B. She works for Bedforshire University which runs the National museum in Arcadia. She is at the head of her field is very, very, very confident. As she has good reason to be.
C. Your lawyer has set the gears of justice in motion, if he needs you he will contact you.

[Galvain7]

"Ah! Doctor Snow, you are hurting my feelings! Roughing it? Certainly not. I'm conducting immersion research into the area of relative poverty. As to being a 'crack spook' I have no idea what you mean. We are all mere light-bugs darting around the piecing beam of your brilliance. My, My, you are certainly looking... functional, tonight Doctor Snow. But I assure you that all I want from you is information. That must be discussed over drinks. Which you are buying. Shall we go?"

Without waiting for a reply George gets into the passenger seat of her car.

[The Walox]

Dr. Snow chuckles at her old friends manner and in a few minutes of driveing and awkward small talk both snow an George arrive at a small oldworld tavern. Snow (obviously a regular leads George to a secluded both in the back) orders two pints of house ale and ofter the foaming mugs arrive she leans forward with her elbows on the table, "Alright, whats this about then?"

[Galvain7]

George eyes his ale suspiciously before digging the crumpled rune napkin out of his duster pocket.
"Well, without going into to much detail, its about this..." George says, revealing the napkin with all the non-nonchalance he can muster.

[The Walox]

Constance gives a start when she sees the drawing, her cavalier manner shaken to the core as she crosses her chest,”Mother Mary preserve us, THIS is the problem!?!?!!” She took a deep breath and gathered her nerves, “Okay, okay, what you’ve got here IS a problem. This is a huge effort on somebody’s behalf. See here,” she pointed to some of the language, “geboren, helsceaða, it means Sibling and Devil respectively and here is brond, that means flame. H’mm interesting this is the word for daughter, dohtor.”

She straightened in her seat, turning her attention away from the napkin looking, George straight in the eye, as was her way, “The Lady of the Dirge, the Princess of Abaddon. Abaddon, the ancient Hebrew word for the place of destruction, hell in other words. Whoever made this circle is trying to summon the sister of the Devil, well that would be my guess, no idea why anybody would want to do that. The good news is that it hasn’t worked, see this word dohtor, It must mean that the old Princess is dead; they are trying to summon the new one. You see when an old demon dies or repents by becoming a mortal the old enchantments to summon it won’t work anymore. You need a new circle and enchantment to summon whatever took its place; so whoever’s done this is experimenting to get the formula right.”

Constance leaned back in the booth, satisfied with her expert opinion, “I’d bet money on it, THAT’S what’s going on.”

[Galvain7]

"Experimenting? Well, that's... good news I suppose, and certainly fits with one of my theories. In any case that's the information I really needed. Thank you Doctor. Good luck with your research and thanks for the drinks."

George shakes the doctors hand and heads for the door. After getting on the street, he hails and cab and instructs the cabbie to drop him off near the address of the summoning house.

[The Walox]

23 Mires Grove was one of those grand old brick houses that had seen better days. The front garden was overgrown with trees and weeds, the magnificent roof was in tatters and large sections had fallen in. Most of the windows had been broken out and the house's red and white brick structure was coated in a thick carpet of moss and lichen.

The entire property in short reaked of damp earth and decay, and there was something else; something unatural about this place that gave george the feeling that his skin was about to crawl off.

The other houses on the street were all hidden behind large hedges, and number 23, obscured behind its rusting wroght iorn fence and dense folliage, was the ideal place for the disturbing summoning circle April had discovered.

The grounds are dark, there and it would be easy to approach the house unnoticed; the fence has several opening large enough to squeeze a person through.

The mullioned windows to in what appaers to be the dinning hall are lit up, and with Georges trained ears, he cann hear a faint omminous chanting.

[Galvain7]

"Mmm... Well they sure picked a good location. When this is over with I might just live here! Hobo style. Except of course I won't have a parlor orge to insult potential clients. Merciful Tehlu, this is pathetic. I see one abandoned squat inhabited by some kind of cult and my first thought is 'I should live there.' Gods."

George ducks into a darkened corner of the street and summons his astral reserves. While on the plane he summons several watcher spirits to monitor the house exits, and another watcher to monitor his own location so that he does not get snuck up on while 'out' of his body. Next he sweeps the area and checks the and around the house for wards designed to keep people out, as well as more mundane hazards but still problematic hazards like guards or dogs.


Astral Perception: 9 dice

[The Walox]

With his watcher spirits on the prowl George finds surveys the property on the astral plane. The house has numerous exits; all of them are unblocked and unguarded, save a few pathetic glyphs of warding; good enough to keep the mundane away but useless against a master like George.

The grounds have a few snares and pits spread about, but thanks to astral projection George can find the buggers without running into them. The dining hall however is a different story.

While the rest of the house was legitimately abandoned the dining hall is packed with countless little men (about four feet high) with slimy green skin and large pointy ears. The floor and walls are covered in intricate glyphs. At the head of the room in front of a ruined fireplace stands a man in a long ravens black robe.

He has a swarthy Arabian complexion and seem to be leading the chanting which has suddenly become louder and more energetic.

[Galvain7]

"By Thelu's foaming face-beard! This... is something bad. And maybe a trap."

"Bugger me sideways and upside-down."

"Okay- action time."

George jumps back into his meat-body and takes off running at a low crouch. He maneuvers around the pits and quickly disables the wards by the doors before shouldering the door farthest from the kitchen open. Once inside, he summons his signature spell, once deemed useless by his peers: The Watcher Swarm.

"Drones of the Plane of Atherius and the Coil of Mortals! I am your true master! Heed me! Bring Annoyance and Trite to my foes! I command you! OBEY!"

As the swarm of Watcher spirits, well... swarm out of the Astral Plane, George directs their hyperactive focus on the summoning ritual, ordering them to scream childish insults and instruct the little green men to "Flee! Flee like the bad magic man isn't watching! Because he's not! The knights are coming! The KNIGHTS!!! Oh God there is no CAKE! HE LIED TO YOU!" and so forth. If Rodger's intition about the green men being unwilling participants is right, that might just cause them to hesitate long enough to halt the ritual.

With that plan in motion, George drops to a sneak and heads quietly toward the kitchen, gun drawn.


I hope you remembered the watcher swarm part from the earlier posts with Dueces.

I'll try 8 dice (logic and intuition) to try and determine what sort of creatures the little green men are. Goblins? Martians?

[The Walox]

Like a great tide of boorishness the watchers rush out of the astral plane like a stampede of incredibly annoying cattle; heeding their masters words to the best of their capabilities. Cries of “WASSSUP!!!”, “GOD SAVE THE WINDBAGS!!!!”, “FEED THE BIRDS!!! TUPPINS A BAG!!!”, and of course,”CHIMM, CHIMM CHAROOO, AND BUG OFF TOO!!!” fill the room with a caterwauling of biblical proportions.

The little green men in their tin foil trousers scatter like the cockroaches in George’s apartment at the first sign of the watchers. Just as the chaos breaks forth The Man in the rob stutters and shout screaming consumed swearwords at his fleeing servants.

Amidst this glorious mess an eerily familiar feeling comes over George; turning his blood to ice, a god awful feeling of pure malevolence (and chocolate?) creeps over his flesh leaving Goosebumps in its wake. Different manifestations of evil (demons) have different auras, the low powered imps make you feverish, a high demon makes you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus; and the more awakened you are the worse it is. When the devil passes by a mundane they get the chills, but with people like George it’s like getting shot in the face with a double decker bus. A demon’s aura is not something you ever forget. Ever.

The man in the robe , whoever he was, had succeeded, the watcher horde had given him the emotional spike he need to summon his demon, and it was here; the little green men had just cleared the room and there was a faint tinkling of glass as the last to f the lot jumped through the remaining un broken window. As George fights the horrific feelings of nausea by the overpowering aura that seems to ebb into his every pore a thick black smoke filters up through the cracks in the hardwood floor.

The thick smoke gathers forming a pillar nearly six feet tall, and solidifies and vanishing, leving a figure clad in a long red robe and cowl; the source of power strong enough to level the entire city. The robed swarthy youth that summoned this devil, was speechless for a moment, he dropped to his knees, and in a shaky voice hailed to object of all of his hard work, ”Pppprincess Aaabbbaddon, I am aaat yourr service.”

The Green men were Goblins, It wouldnt be a bad idea to track them down when this is said and done, there are very rare on this contenate

[Galvain7]

"Oh. Oh dear."



Isn't this a just bag of peanuts?

Alright, I have a few questions-
The opposite of summoning is banishing. Judging by the sheer malevolence of the entity that just got yanked out of Hell, is it at all possible at all for George to banish it... without turning himself into goo?

Is aforesaid being still held in some kind of summoning circle?

The swarthy man who just did the demon yanking- on the scale of magical mojo, where would he rank in comparison with George?

On a completely out of game/metagame context tangent, this wouldn't happen to be a relative of April's, would it?

[The Walox]

As George sorts out his headache, he recognizes the aura, its so framilliar. Once one got past the headache its weas oddly soothing.

Useing his expertise george can tell that these summoning circles are total crap, this entity came of its own accord.

There is now way George can banish a high demon without killing himself in the process, and if this is princess Abaddon than it'd be akin to Banishing the devil in person.

Oh, and this "wizzard" in tyhe black robe, just a misguided youth with very little talent; Georges toenail clippings are more fromidable.

[The Walox]

From George’s vantage point he watches the demon walk across the room in graceful strides, the distinctive clicking of a woman’s heels accompanies each step. The figure stop short of the trembling wizard arms akimbo. “YOU!!” the robed figure speaks with a woman’s voice, deep and beautiful, but with a distinctive raspy quality and cultured Alexandrian accent” Do you have any idea what you’ve done, a whole bloody month I’ve had a headache just because of your juvenile ambitions, uhg. Have you any idea how singularly annoying it is to be summoned?!?!!”

She, the red robed figure, gives an exasperated groan. The wizard looks up at her ashen faced, “Well young man?” She continues, “I had to put down Les Miserables to have this talk with you, what do you have to say for yourself? Hmm, If you keep this up you’ll wind up as a cad and a bounder!!!”

The youth stuttered, unable to contain his embarrassment and fear.”Oh, and stop stuttering,” the woman’s voice softened,”Darling it’s such an unbecoming habit.” She turned on her heal staring down the corridor where George was hiding, whatever he was expecting it certainly wasn’t a lecture. With her cowl down George is unable to see her face, just a glowing green light; he grows cold again as the robed woman probes his aura.

“Excuse me? Yes, you in the shadow, would you be so good as to explain to this lad the trouble he may have caused?”

[Galvain7]

George pauses for a moment to holster his weapon before stepping out of the shadow and into the lighted part of the dining hall.

"Certainly." George says, with a bare nod of his head.

"Young man," George begins, his tone flat,"You have just managed to pull off a summoning that is far beyond your ken. How you managed this is beyond incredulous, and I would be impressed if it was not so... messy. In any case, judging by the fact that you know whom you have summoned, I suggest you apologize, and be quick with your explaining. A messy summoning can be... painful."

George waits for the Summoner to collect himself and continues to the Devil-kin.
"Pardone, Mademoiselle, did you say Les Misables? I might dare to imagine you have an original Bijioux copy, oui? I am a bit of a literature affectionate myself, if I may boast a bit."

[The Walox]

The Devil-kin turned all of her attention towards George, the aura fading, but not wholly disappearing, as the green glow disappeared underneath her hood, “It is always my greatest pleasure to meet a fellow bookworm Mr. Smith,” she gives a warm laugh,”Yes, I do know your name, terribly sorry to probe you like that but in this business one can never be too careful.”

The young wizard seemed to have found his voice at last,”I’m, I’m sorry Princess I, I just thought that you would want me as a servant, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

The Princess turned towards the young man, ”Apology accepted, you ought to consider yourself lucky that I came and not some other demon, now don’t look so dejected. If you want to dabble in the supernatural might I suggest a church? They are always pleased to help the young. You better be on your way, Good day Sir.”

The young wizard ran from the abandoned house, terrified, “Now then where were we? Oh yes I’ve written quite a few books in my time Mr. Smith, I’ve even read you paper on the watcher spirits, very intriguing, I must admit I’m a frightful bore when it comes to summoning. But I’ve babbled quite a bit would you pardon me a breach of edicate?” Without waiting for an answer she laid a robbed hand on Georges shoulder, her skin was feverishly hot to the touch.

She let out a scream and pulled her hand away tossing her hood back as she did, George recognized her in an instant; from the illustrations of the Dr. Graham novels of his childhood. Untouched by time, stood Ruby Cardinal, she was indeed April’s aunt; she could have even been her sister. Her face was nearly identical, but paler and freckled; her eyes a deep Jade green that seemed to pull at George, Her waist length hair fell cascaded gracefully down her back in long Auburn curls.

She slipped off her robe, tearing the sleeve as she nursed her hand which had erupted into angry bleeding blisters. Her clothes were all designer, Her Five inch heels, where opened toed and she moved with a surreal grace in them. Her Pinstriped pencil skirt had a long slit up the side and she wore a black tie with her red blouse. A delicate glass carnation was hung in front of her left ear. Ruby shook her auburn bangs from her eyes and said more to herself than to George, “I can't touch you, It must be true then; singular indeed.”

[Galvain7]

"Ah. Terribly sorry about the whole... burning, Ms. Cardinal. Pardon me for a moment."

George directs his watcher spirits to follow the fleeing wizard. The man's plans may have fallen apart at the seams (if indeed they were even his plans), but he had still committed a summoning offense. The law of Alexandria frowns upon such things.

"I do so hate to be rude, Ms. Cardinal, but I am afraid that I must ask that you to leave. A distant relation of yours commissioned me to get to the bottom of the rituals our youthful enthusiast had been practicing."

[The Walox]

Ruby wraps a torn scrap from her robe around her hand as a bandage. The sickening feeling of her aura comes back like a sack of bricks to the groin as her eyes begin to glow, jade green the pupils elongating into vertical slits like a cats. “My April, yes, of course, but I do believe that can wait, just a moment.” She seemed t forget her throbbing bleeding wound as she strode closer to George,” Mr. Smith? You aren’t what you seem are?” Her voice went quiet, a touch of awe,”But you don't know do you? My mother was Princess Abaddon before me, my father was a mortal; I’m only half daemon, how? It’s impossible, but it must be true. Mr. Smith unlike others of my blood I’m only affect in this way by certain, but it must be, you. What do you know of your family Mr. Smith?”

[Galvain7]

"Nothing much. I was fostered by the state. But you are going to tell me aren't you?"

[The Walox]

A sly Smile spreads across Ruby's pretty face, "Only angelic ancestry will harm a half blood like myself, you are a Hell Knight, the last in a line streching back to Ghallahadrid, who was ,curiosly enough, the traveling companion to my own ancestor lady Cosette Cardinal." She pauses thoughtfully,"It seems to me Mr. smith that the fates have played a great joke on us."

George's watcher spirit trakes the wnt to be wizzard back to an old row house. The man takes countless evil books form his dwelling and sets out at once for the Cathedral, he knocks at the vicages door, The wisend vicar greets the lad who's face is streaked with tears.

[Galvain7]

"Galahadrid? The Galahdrid? I'm sorry Miss but I find that a bit hard to believe. For one, Hellknights have been defunct for centuries, if they ever existed. Two, I certainly do not remember joining an order of Knights that pledge to use the minions of Hell to do their bidding. Listen, I know I drink a lot, but I have never, ever been that -that- drunk. And finally, Galahadrid was a paladin- a real one if you believe the stories, and if you believe he was ever real to begin with- one of the last. I am fairly certain 'make babies' is on the 'thou shalt not' part of the list. In any case, it makes little difference. Is there anything you want to pass on to your relative April before you go?"

[The Walox]

Ruby closes her eyes,"And yet, you burned my hand. Hell Knight or not you burned me, only angel blood could have done that."She opens her eyes again tilting her head to one side a she contenplated George.It was hard to shake the feeling that he was being x-rayed."Once, my mother told me that i was a princess, the lady in waiting to take her place, than she told me that my uncle was Satan, Oh how I laughed. The audacity of the whole mess was just too much to take. When I was thirteen some one told me that my pendant watch had bits of the philosophers stone in it, that I would live longer than an elf because of it, that was quite another laugh, yet here I am, young and healthy while my own da. . . dear niece is ageing. She will be an old woman some day, I never will. You think what I told you about being angelic is a laugh, mister I lived through some pretty BIG woppers. My dear blasted uncle retiered, guess who was next in line for the devil, ME. Now if somebody had told me that when I was young, I would have though they were cracked. It matters very little that you think me false, truth is truth."she said all of this with a thoughtfull even tone, not put off in the slightest by George's denile.

[Galvain7]

"Well color me impressed Ms. Devil. I suppose its possible that you are using some other magical means to maintain your... ah, longevity. But let us suppose for the sake of argument that you are the devil incarnate, and I'm some sort of mythical chivalric unicorn. What can you do to prove it, and more importantly- why does it matter? What specifically do you want? And furthermore, if I am a so called, 'Hellknight,' than aren't I supposed to enslave you? You can see how that would be difficult for both of us. Me especially."

[The Walox]

Ruby laughed, a warm lovely sound, "Have you ever wondered why you live in poverty, when a man of your talents could make a fortune? Why you help the poor and meager while you suffer? Some of us are just made that way, your blood and heritage make you who you are. Myself for example, I am a most dreadfull demon," George cant help but botice the small crucifix Ruby is wearing around her neck," I take no delight in what my uncle did, but I like you am only mortal, a new devil must take the place of the old; times are about to become very difficult indeed. As to your reluctance to take up the mantle of the Hell Knights, I am delighted, it makes things more pleasent for the both of us, honestly I only wish to help you Mr. Smith." Her aura receaded, her pupils returning to normal,"I'm not good at running Hell, it needs a real demon to tourcher souls, I, cant do it it's inhumane."

She taks a deep breath,"April has the demon's blood, it hasn't awakened yet, thats why you can touch her without harm, she is particulally suseptible to the Devil's Call. Perhaps, we can find my uncle and sort this out."There is a hopefull sparkle in her lovely eyes
."As for testing your origins,"she implicated her bandaged hand,"My inability to touch you should be proof enough, but if you need more convincing I do belive that my good friend Dr. Graham has a curio in his collection that should do the trick."

She gives another pause nursing her wounded hand again, "You needn’t become a Hell Knight in earnest to fulfill your destiny Mr. Smith," there is a faint pleading note in her voice, “I doubt our meeting here was chance, please Mr. Smith. My April, “George’s intuition picks up on the matronly tone that Ruby's voice adopts whenever she says "April”, “finding this place that was meant to summon me? Her aunt? Then she happens to hire you? You, whose ancestor once traveled the medieval roads with mine? There is too much destiny in this. Your angelic ancestry is enough; you can use the tools, the spells, the forgotten arts of the hell Knights to cull the coming storm. It has to be you; you must."

Ruby heaves a great sad sigh, “But if I am to convince you I would suppose that you need more information. Mr. Smith I being Princess Abaddon can only manage hell temporarily, "she spoke of her duties in a disgusted tone of voice, “There must be a new Satan, and the only candidates that will do are those who can fall, mortals preferably of demon descent; the purer of heart the better. The grace period is over it has been so long since my uncle has left that my powers over hell are at their end; if action isn’t taken soon the spirits of the wicked departed will swarm the Earth, much like your lovely watcher spirits infested this hall. “Ruby sat down in a nearby chair with her legs crossed; noticeably melancholy.

[Galvain7]

"Sweet merciful Tehlu. You sound absolutely serious... For the Devil. Alright then- I'll bite- what precisely do you need done that I can help with? Some sort of... ugh- quest? I am saying, for the record, that I commit to nothing- Nothing until I have real proof, Understand?"

[The Walox]

Ruby's melancholey seemed to melt at George's words, "Mr. Smith thank you, I am in your debt. It would be impossible for me to ever thank you enough. Soon, things are about to become quite foul indeed." She collects the remenants of her cloak from the floor. "If you are ever to be ready there are some thing that I need to collect first. Please be careful this evening Mr. Smith. I shall call on you tomorrow morning. I should be able to answer all of your questions then, Good night Mr. Smith."

She gives a pretty smile and dissapears in a cloud of thik black smoke; leaving George alone in the old house.

The spell that Ruby used to appear and dissappear is called effervescence. It takes a lifetime to learn, the mages that master it have one thing in common; they can channel a great deal of energy

[Galvain7]

George stands alone for several minutes, letting the silence of the old house sink into his being. This place suited him, despite the fact that it was for all intents and purposes the old house was the only place he could be. He burned his last bridge to any semblance of normality when he stole from his landlady, and he knew that. Still, if you looked in the first shades of grey cast from the faint light of the sputtering candles, and squinted a little, and held your nose, and shut your ears to the scamperings of the rats and roaches, you could almost believe that this place was still and grand old mansion, inhabited by the posh and proper.

Almost.

In the end it was just another squat inhabited by just another bum. A tired, confused, terrified and drained bum. A bum so wretched he could not afford even the barest of booze to ease his passage into utter destitution. But this was only the beginning, and George knew that as well. Something else lay in the works, something far more complex than goblins and misguided fools. himself excepted, of course.

Before too long George's ears adjusted and he could hear the noise and rattle from the street outside. It tore him from his unpleasant revere and he began to move about. First he removed any trace of the summoning circle from the hall, and gathered the candles into a neat little pile, along with the last of his matches. Then he rebolted the doors, set up a few stronger wards and modified the remaining ones cast by the Summoner into something with a bit more punch. Then he set a few watcher spirits to keep an eye on the place.

When all that was done, he found a corner near the still warm stones of the fireplace, wrapped up in his duster and went to sleep.

[The Walox]

George’s sleep was the kind of sleep that seems to last for an eternity, the sleep of the dead, the sleep of weary; the kind of sleep that is the most unpleasant to be awoken from. “Hmm, doesn’t look like much this one,” the voice seemed distant, it was the voice of an old crone; a wizened grumpy voice,”Looks dead if you ask me m’lady, no surprise those wards were so bad, almost as useless as that good for nothing fa. . .”

“Alexia!” A second voice permeated George’s sleep; it was a warm deep voice, Lady Cardinal, “mind your manners.” George awoke to a haggard wreck that was once a beautiful woman. The haggard crone was poking him in the stomach with a gnarled finger. In the background Miss. Cardinal was laying what smelled like breakfast on what remained of the dining table. She wore an old red and white Victorian dress, the Polarian kind with short layered skirts and open shoulders. Her thigh high leather boots, like the dress, were well kept.

The crone turned to her lady,”This tramp’s awake; pity, I was hoping him dead.”

Ruby strode over to Mr. Smith, her demeanor bright and bubbly, “Good morning Mr. Smith, I hope you pardon our intrusion. I see you’ve met Alexia, my uncles’ lore keeper. Unfortunately your landlady turned you out of your room last night; I’ve taken the liberty of collecting your things and bringing them along. I’ve brought a traditional Alexandrian breakfast and Maredan coffee for you, I’ll see to procuring better lodging for you later. I feel partially responsible for your destitution.”She gave a polite Ccrtsey and motioned towards the table where the heavenly aroma was wafting from.

[Galvain7]

"HRM? What- no I'm sorry Miss I'll-. Oh. It's you. Good morning. Harumph."

George takes a moment to roll his shoulders and stretch, eying the crone warily. "That will be Mister tramp to you, Old Crone, until I've had my breakfast, thank-you-very much.."

"Well, Mother Superior always said to never accept favors from the devil herself, but if its breakfast I'm afraid I must say, yes, yes indeed. Ah, and coffee! I'd call you a saint, but, well, you know.... Something about you Cardinal women and eating breakfast."

"As to lodgings and my things well, no, no thank you. I will get back on my feet without demonic assistance, thank you. Except breakfast. You can do that any time. As to my things well-" George spreads his hands to indicate himself- "What I'm wearing is what I have. Everything else at the apartment belonged to my landlady, bless her kind soul cough cough. I got rid of all of my material things to... take care of an emergency."

[Galvain7]

"Come to think of it there are a few things I would like from you. For starters, I need 2 dozen yellow daffodils in separate bouquets. And postage."

"Now, what precisely do you need me to do?"

[The Walox]

“Sure thing Mister Smith, I’ll have them brought right away.” Ruby cringes at the mentioning of her, ahem, “condition”, and gives a twenty pence piece to a young girl in a school uniform that was cleaning the cobwebs from the hall ceiling. Alexia, the old crone laughs cruelly.”So cautions this one,” and mockingly,”Mister Tramp is a dullard, if he thinks that this kitten is a proper devil-kin, PAH!!! I’ve seen more frightening infants! She’s no more evil that a box of puppies and rainbows!!”

“Quiet Alexia! Mister Smith is simply being polite,” Ruby interjects noticeably flustered. Alexia turns red and shrieks,”QUIET!! QUIET!!!! I will not be quiet for a third rate sorceress and babysitter to a socially inept elf!! You, and your cutesy little adventure books, you and you absurd sentimentality; wearing that old dress because it reminds you of the good times!!! That stupid goody goody husband what left you and that spineless daughter of yours. . .”

“Enough.”Ruby’s voice was quiet, at her word the old crone gagged and was still; glaring at her lady with a smug look of superiority, ”Please Mister Smith, don’t listen to her it’s not what you think, I couldn’t keep her, April, she had to be raised by my nephew. It would have been horrible, she would have grown old, I, I, never would have. I could have never done that to her, please Mister Smith don’t tell her, please she has no idea.” Though her voice was even warm tears fell down her cheeks.

“I know what you’ve done for her; I could feel your intentions through the locket. That’s why it’s so important that you help me. To keep April away from this fate, she is the ideal candidate for the throne. I’ll even pay you for whatever you do to keep the spirits at bay.”

[Galvain7]

George watches the exchange between Ruby and the Old Crone passively.

"Ms. Cardinal," George begins, a bit hesitantly, "I apologize deeply for offending you in any way. I had no idea you were under such... obligation. And such pain. You have my sympathy, for what its worth. Heh."

Sympathy for the Devil. Sigh. Sweet Tehlu, what have I gotten myself into?

"As for your April, you needn't worry about my support. Everything I can do, I will do. So help me Tehlu, and my Heaven bear witness to my oath. I will make a list of the talisma I need for the various protections, and you will have to bring them to me. As for payment, well, I do not want any. As they say, doing right is its own reward."



The first set of flowers is for April. Here is what the card says:
"Dear Ms. Cardinal,
I wanted you to know that the incident on Mires Grove has been handled quite well. It turned out to be nothing more than some hedge mages with to much money for costumes. Unfortunately, I can no longer be found at my old address. If you need me, place a note under the pay phone on the corner of Darkchapel and Oak. I will contact you.

Wishing you all my best,
George.

P.S. Wear your locket. Always.

The second set of flowers is for Dr. Snow:

Dear Doctor Snow,
Thank you for the information and ale. It turns out you were right- Someone was trying to summon the Devil's own sister. They did not succeed and nearly killed themselves, but it all worked out quite well in the end. Don't look for it in the papers though. I thought it best to keep this under the radar for the sake of the general peace. Unfortunately I can't be found at my apartment anymore, because of some misunderstandings. If you need me snare one of my spirits.

Luck, Doctor.
-George.