Call of Cthulhu 1890s England IC, The Yorkshire Horrors

[Xsesiv]

@littlebottom:
Robert sits in the corner of the vicarage kitchen, nursing a hangover and a cup of tea. You hear a brushing noise, then a clack as the letterbox snaps shut and the flop of letters on the vicarage doormat. Apart from a village newsletter, a bill for gas, a telegram from an aunt holidaying in Brighton, and a cheap pamphlet trying to convince you to go to your own church services, the only interesting thing is an envelope of thick paper addressed in black ink.

@orchitect:
"Essentially, the New York State Police recommended you to Dr. Bell. Poor man. Anyway, he's willing to pay £100 - that's about $500 by today's exchange - to get you to England, and then £500 - $2500 - if you succeed." In his terrible green-check suit the overweight, balding lawyer shifts in his seat and reaches into a drawer. He hands over a letter addressed to you, care of him.

Two months later, as the English coast is in sight from your ferry, you read the letter once more, to reacquaint yourself with it.

The Letter:

Sir

I feel assured you have heard of my name and my profession, and perhaps have read some of my more successful cases popularised in short stories by a Dr. James H. Windemere*. Without further disclaimer, it is with a keen sense of irony that I find myself appealing to your detective abilities asthe one who is in need of assistance.

I am currently involved in a case vital to the Crown; It is, perhaps, not too bold to say that the fate of the British Empire itself hangs in the balance. Hence, despite my intimate interest in another case, I must beg you to undertake it in my stead. The particulars follow.

My own eldest brother, Sherrinford Bell, is accused of the murder of one of his servants. It is absolutely certain that he cannot have committed this crime, and I request that you and any associates you wish to bring please travel to the Bell family estate, Mycroft Manor, in the North Riding of Yorkshire, and clear Sherrinford of the charges. Thanks to the efforts of our other brother Mulcaster Bell (a minor government official, though one not devoid of influence) and myself, Sherrinford has thus far remained free; I desire, however, that Sherrinford's name be cleared, as my brother has been very agitated by the incident and his reputation must be restored.

In strictest confidence, I do not, and you should not, trust the constabulary to handle the situation correctly. Without your intervention I have no doubt that the local bunglers will convict Sherrinford merely to close their books on the case.

I Have been led to understand, by mutual acquantances, that you are familiar with my methods, and have, on occasion, been known to practice them yourselves. I am flattered. This also gives me confidence in your abilities.

I sincerely regret not being able to provide more information, for I myself have not yet visited the site, and it is a capital mistake, one most destructive to the reasoning capabilities, to theorise before obtaining the facts. These facts are only available in Mycroft Manor, Yorkshire.

The nature of my present case makes it both unwise and impossible for you to contact me during the investigation; however you may wire my brother Mulcaster at the Foreign Office, or at his club, the Diomedes, at Pall Mall.

Faithfully

Dr. S. Bell

*make a Knowledge Roll

[littlebottom]

knowledge roll (d100)[100]

"Robert, look at this letter... this is most intrigueing is it not?" James hands the letter over to robert in the hope he can still read with his hangover.

[Xsesiv]

Robert takes a good look at the letter. "It seems somebody is aware of our antics, does it not? I suppose we had better go. I'm feeling rather ill, and I expect I should do something to take my mind off it. I propose we catch the train unless we can think of a better way."

(d100)[18]

"From the great Seabury Bell? He must truly think a lot of us. One of the foremost detectives in the country, if I remember rightly."

Meanwhile, William's ferry docks in Liverpool.

[littlebottom]

"a train? yes, your proberbly right... shall we leave this second? or do we have some time first do you think?"

[Xsesiv]

"We should be quick, if a man's life hangs in the balance. I'll just finish my cup of tea, we'll pack, then we can go to the train station and find a train map. How does that sound?"

[littlebottom]

"hmmm what about the locals wondering why ive just gone missing? i was going to make a house call to mrs. miggins tomorrow, poor dear lost her husband recently... ill leave a note and promise to see her when we get back i suppose."

Reverand James Day, writes a small message along the lines of "i appologise but i cannot make it for tea tomorrow, as i have been called of for urgent business, i will drop in upon my return, i cannot appologise enough"

he then continues to collect his gear and spare clothes and such, and lock away anything of worth.

[orchitect]

KNOW= 75
(1d100)[61]


((OOC: Gotta go right now. I'll get on when I get home and let ya'll know if I can play longer or not.))

[Xsesiv]

KNOW= 75
[roll0]

You recognise the name Dr. Seabury Bell as being that of one of the greatest known detectives in England, maybe the world.

Robert rushes off back to his flat and comes back to the vicarage with a suitcase full of clothes in one hand and...for some reason a cricket bat in the other, wearing the top hat he always wears when he wants to hide his derringer. "Had you not better bring your shotgun, James?" he asks. "This is a murder case, after all, and I'd like to feel protected."

[littlebottom]

James simply sighs, "you have much to learn, my son." and opens his coat, consealing his shotgun and ammo. "now, to the station!" James picks up his luggage, and locks the door on the way out.

[Xsesiv]

The nearest station is twelve miles away in Gloucester, which allows for a nice leisurely walk. Once there you find the most direct route to take would be to catch the train to Liverpool, then change to a train going from Liverpool through Manchester, Leeds and York to a small town called Northallerton, the county seat of the North Riding of Yorkshire.

[littlebottom]

"it seems the easiest way there is to head up to liverpool first, lets do that now then..." Reverand james, with his dog colar visable over his coat, goes and asks for 2 tickets to liverpool

[Xsesiv]

The man hands the tickets over, takes the money and makes the sign of a cross as you leave.

The train ride is short and unpleasant. Arriving in Liverpool, you see that a ferry from America is disgorging its passengers, and that several trains are boarding. Not, thankfully, the one you are getting on. A man from America is having terrible trouble getting his trunk up the stairs to your platform.

[littlebottom]

"what on earth do the americans want to come here for? we go over to america, and then they fight for independance so we give it to them, and now they just want to come back!..." he mutters to Robert.

"excuse me! you over there? you need help with that?" Reverand James calls down to the american.

[Xsesiv]

(Orc, this is you. Sorry to rush ahead.)

Robert stands up and wanders over to the poor man."I'll do my...ahem...Christian duty, Father."

...See, I'm not the slightest bit bitter...No, not at all... Robert puts his efforts into yanking the suitcase up onto the platform.

"No trouble at all. How do you do, sir?"

[orchitect]

"Thanks young man, this damn arm didn't do so well on the trip over the pond. Best ask next time though, you never know when you've ruined a man's chance at a nice dinner and something to wash it down with. You know what I mean?"

The man is large, like someone who used to be an athlete. The injury he mentions probably explains why he looks likes he's been sitting behind a desk for the last ten years. When he's finished talking he smiles and winks at Robert, but he's not coming onto him, he's just being friendly. He has a mustache.


((I need sleep before tomorrow. Night guys, or goodmorning!))

[Xsesiv]

"...Erm...vaguely."

Robert goes and sits down next to Reverend James. "It's alright Father, he's not going to fight us out of England, he's got a crippled arm. And no shotgun. Or bat." he mutters.

"So my good man, I'm Robert, Robert Taylor, and this is my friend the Reverend James Day...What is it brings you to England then?"

[orchitect]

"Crime. A terrible crime. I'm on my way to Yorkshire to lend a hand. You?"

((Which edition are we using?))

[Xsesiv]

(5.6.)

"Harrumph...we've done our share of investigating...don't ask me why, strange, isn't it, a priest and a disowned aristocrat...anyhow, we've been asked to go to a manor in Yorkshire. We are supposed to acquit a man of a crime he did not commit."

Robert waits for William to look impressed.

[littlebottom]

"I am indeed Reverand James Day, pleasure to meet you." he extends his arm to allow for william to shake it

"may i dare ask, how you injured yourself?"

[orchitect]

William looks at Robert, "Let me guess. You recieved a letter and in a thick, yellow envelope from the world's greatest detective who decides to suddenly go missing when he's most needed?"

He turns to Day. Shaking his hand he remarks, "Damn, I forgot! I'm William. Its nice to meet you Reverend Day. Well its funny, but I can't quite remember. It was somewhere between the rugby pitch and well, somethings I'd like to keep to myself right now."

Gesturing towards the train William says, "Well, it seems we're all going to the same place. Let's get a move on. We can talk more on the way."

((I got a copy of the 6th edition. I imagine much hasn't changed. Now I really have to go. G'night guys!))

[littlebottom]

"rugby? i didnt believe americans played rugby...? forgive me if im wrong..."

[Xsesiv]

The train arrives. Robert helps with the trunk and before long you are on the way down the railway line, and when you finally emerge from the smoky Midlands cities into the pastoral scenes of Northern Yorkshire you are much relieved. The train rattles straight through the Vale of York, arable farmland punctuated by dense wood lots, and is pulling into the station of Northallerton, when you see a man who holds above his head a large cardboard sign with both your names on it. Northallerton, a market town, seems a mere village compared to London or York.

[littlebottom]

"over here, good sir!"

[Xsesiv]

The man comes over and with a broad Yorkshire accent introduces himself as Graves. "I'm here te take you to Mycroft Manor," he says, leading you to a carriage.

[orchitect]

"You're not the first brits I've met, Reverend!"


Later at the train depot in Yorkshire William, taking his back from Robert and careful to not look ungrateful, greets the man with the board, "William, pleasure to meet you. Let's get a move on! No point in waiting for the end of the world!

[Xsesiv]

The drive to Mycroft Manor is short and uneventful, but gives you an idea of the lay of the land. You pass through farmland with small but dense wooded areas and farmhouses scattered through. Just a few miles distant looms a hilly moor.

Mycroft Manor is a two-story building with two wings, one of them a greenhouse or conservatory. It is relatively small as country manors go, but it is still imposing. As you pull up, you notice that there is already a carriage parked before the manor. Disembarking, you notice two men exiting the front door, one of whom is obviously the local constable. The other is dressed in a city style, perhaps of London. The constable, taking note of you, stops you by saying "Here na, what're ye fer, then?" in a Yorkshire accent.

Robert speaks up. "We've been sent by a Dr. Seabury Bell to look into the murder." The constable looks suitably impressed at Bell's name, but then looks disappointed that others are interfering in his jurisdiction. The other fellow harrumphs and looks unimpressed. The constable introduces himself as Danvers Culverton, a local officer from Northallerton, and his companion as Inspector Titus Granding of Scotland Yard. "The Northallerton Parish Council asked that Scotland Yard be consulted, so I have come to aid the constable."

Psychology rolls please.

Robert's: (d100)[76]

[orchitect]

((Probably going to be my only post for this morning. I'm at work again.))

(1d100)[40]< 55%

((Is this good or bad?))

[Xsesiv]

(Good. You wouldn't purchase percentiles in something in order to make yourself worse at it.)

You see that the constable feels the Scotland Yard intervention and Granding's help are unnecessary.

Granding snorts and says "The old boy is obviously guilty. As soon as certain political strings can be tied up, he'll be arrested and formally charged, despite what Seabury Bell thinks. I have the greatest respect for Dr. Bell, but this is a case where he can't pull any of his fancy tricks."

Culverton seems less sure. "Na then, we'll see."

At this point Graves steps in to hotly defend his master's honour, and Culverton tries to smooth things over. He notes that he and Granding need to be going if the latter is to catch his train to London.

[orchitect]

"Where could we contact you in London, Mr. Culverton?"

[Xsesiv]

Culverton looks confused..."I'm t'constable fer Northallerton Parish...'Tis Granding 'ere 'ho works in London. Come and see me down the constabulary sometime."