Play@YSDC

The journey from the Museum to the King’s Head inn, takes no more than a few minutes by Hansom cab. From the outside you see little attraction in the red brick building with its bottle glass windows adorned with a painted name and various advertisements for different beers and spirits.

Three steps lead to an open front door above which a small wooden plaque advises that Mr Bertram Jacobs is licensed to sell…

Within the quality of the interior is not done any favours by the somewhat shabby looking exterior. Scrubbed timber and brocade cushioned furniture are neatly arranged alluding to the nature of clientele frequenting this establishment.

Although not overly filled with customers at this time, there are a few and their speech and dress show them to be of the better classes. Clean and tidy, and probably more respectful of their betters than the places favoured by the lower orders around the east end, your arrival causes a momentary silence, since you are strangers to this establishment, but within moment the cheery hubbub of talk is restored.

It being late autumn, and a trifle nippy, a cheery fire burns in the fireplace besides which an empty table bathes in its merry warmth.

As you seat yourselves, a middle aged gent, portly of stomach and thinning of hair, in a white apron walks towards you wiping his hands on a towel.
“Welcome, welcome good Sirs, and Miss of course. Welcome to me ‘umble hestablishment. I ‘ave fine liquor and vitals to offer”
A dire rumbling sound from Roxborough reverberates around the Inn,
“I ‘ave been hadvised that me meat platter is the talk hov the harea and would not hesitate to hoffer it to folks as fine as yourselves”

OOC:   Perception rolls please, or you may choose the average. As usual the more successes the better

Wellington sits down and looks around with great interest.

Perception (4successes),I took the average.

When the patron appears, he addresses the man.

"I shan't be requiring any vitals, good man, but a glass of sherry would do well."

OOC:   Klevendon's "Perception" 6: [dice]0[/dice]

"The meat platter would be excellent for me, thank you," replies Klevendon.

Nellie looks around carefully; dusting off the surface of her chosen seat.

Nellie looks around,Perception 8 +1 Style Pt [dice]0[/dice]

OOC:   I had to delete my first post; the spoiler button wouldn't open - and I have no idea what that roll was.

"Let's try and get information from the barman--I was thinking of asking about the stables, that's where the horse died, wasn't it?" Klevendon continues: "I must say, this mystery lark is jolly good fun! I envy you your 'day job,' Mr. Wellington; and you too, Ms. Bly," he remembers Higgins' corpse, and cuts his inappropriate grin.

"You can not imagine the tedium of some case people try to present me with, Mr. Klevendon. I can assure you, the true gems of mystery are quite rare indeed."

Wellington produces a small silver box and slowly screws it open. He sniffs up two doses of snuff and let's out an audible sigh of appreciation.

"I'm afraid interviewing Mr. Jacobs in plain sight of his customers will produce little extra information. The man is clearly shaken by the events, and he'll want none to do with whatever business we're up to if it further upsets his custom."


He smiles as he reclines in his seat.

"But tell me, my dear fellows, what you think the state of our case to be."

As the barkeep departs with their orders for food and drink Nellie looks about again taking in their fellow patrons. She'd been in worse places, when covering stories at least the tables were clean and the food had come recommended.

"Let's not be too hasty to start fishing for information, better to try and ingratiate ourselves a little first. I dare say the barkeep likes a little tipple, I caught a whiff of spirits on his breath. But we should proceed carefully, if we push to much for information he'll clam up and we won't get the answers we want."

OOC:   Nellie orders a G&T and a roast beef sandwich

Wriiten on behalf of the Right Honourable Roxborough.

Cognisant of the fact that his intermittent stomach rumbles may be taken in bad grace by his compannions and other customers of the establishment. Roxborough decides to forgo further comment instead concentrating on the decision of what vitals he should order.

Mind apparently made up he leans towards the barman,
"I'll have the meat platter, twice" his stomach uttered a muted growl of assent

Roxborough takes in his surroundings, though the gnawing of his stomach on his backbone leaves him somewhat distracted.

"Barkeep! I spy some jellied eels and pickled eggs - be a good fellow and load up a small plate so that I might whet my appetite with a little hors d'oeuvre, whilst awaiting the reknowned meat platter!

OOC:   I'll take the average on Perception

"My good companions, there is a free booth that will accommodate us all, shall we?"

"Yes, all right," replies Klevendon, "you two are the experts.

"'Free booth,' Mr. Roxborough?" The peckish Antiquarian stands-up hastily, eager to start eating.

Following the admirable Roxborough's lead it took but a matter of seconds to relocate to the unocupied booth that had spied.
By the time you had seated yourselves the barman had returned bearing a large tray of assorted drinks and plates of pickles, jellied eels and such.

Thinking that the hors d'oeuvres were for you all he was suprised when the tall gentleman with the bristling moustache and the smaller, wiry companion made no effort to share the various delicacies with the others.

However with an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulders he began placing the drinks before those who had ordered them. When he leans close the smell of alcohol is obvious, and although you might expect someone who works with spirits all day to smell of them, the smell that the barman is carrying is far to strong for simple spillage.

Now that you have taken the empty booth you find that any observation of yourselves by the clientile is somewhat obscured by the bar, giving you a hint of privacy.

"Your food should be along directly, hand I does 'ope it is to your satisfaction, is there hanything helse I may be of service with?"

Nelly stifles a chuckle seeing the barman's reaction to Roxborough's display of gluttony. "Please excuse our friend, he's perpetually hungry." she says smiling "He's been looking forward to sampling your meat platter ever since we heard about how highly it was regarded."

Roxborough looks up, sucking grease and juice from his fingers, one by one. He somehow manages to look both apologetic and slightly ashamed whilst also hungrily eyeing the rest of the tasty morsels left on the plates in front him.

"Ermm, yes, well terribly sorry" he mutters whilst sucking the pinky of his left hand "It's been a long time since breakfast and, well, it's nearly lunchtime and one hasn't had elevenses" he offers by way of apology.

He picks up a piece of bread and starts wiping up the juices on one of the plates "Terribly bad sport to miss a meal! Elevenses too! One of the most important meals of the day! he pops the piece of bread in his mouth and starts chewing happily, almost oblivious to his companions at the table.

Wellington sniffs the sherry with great delight, stirs the glass and sniffs it again. Comparing the scent to that coming from the barman.

"Much obliged, good man."

He leans back and sips from the drink, savouring the taste as he raises an expectant eyebrow at Mss Bly.

Nellie catches the look from Wellington and mentally sighs, so she was expected to kick things off, entice the barkeeper into divulging all his secrets. Well Nellie would play along and have a little fun too.

Fixing the barkeeper with her best dazzling smile she started. "Oh yes as soon as we heard from the Professor how truly wonderful the platter was here at the Kings Head, dear Roxy was dying to come here and sample the food." Nellie waves a hand at Roxborough to indicate that he is dear Roxy.

"We were all set to rush over the other evening but alas Welly's Aunt had taken poorly and so we had to postpone our visit until now..." Nellie pauses and smiles at the barkeeper again, "You know, I think Roxy has been so looking forward to sampling your famous 'meat platter' I believe he's almost been starving himself, you know Roxy he's a slave to food." Nellie grins slightly.

Looking at Wellington, Nellie carries on "Welly... be a dear and buy our charming host a sherry, so he can tell us all about his fine hostelry and famous food" Now it's Nellie's turn to fix Wellington with an expectant look.

At Nellies offer of sherry the barmans interest perks up, "Well that's most kind...Miss...I shall be honoured to haccept"
He now joins Nellie in an expectant look towards Wellington.
"Halthough I must confess that HI ham more partial to drop of gin, if it pleases you guvner?"

"Then a gin it shall be... who doesn't love a drop of mother's ruin eh?"

OOC:   happy to take the average + drink bonus... come on cough up Welly!

"Gin it shall be indeed, goodman, to your health."


"Welly" gives Miss Bly a withering look as the innkeep turns his back.

OOC:   Sorry, lads, not much time today.

Within a matter of moments the barman reapears at the booth with a small pewter tankard, he sits himself down, nodding at Wellington's show of generosity,
"My thanks sir, you are a gennelman".

He then raises his tankard in a salute to you all "Your very good health sirs, and you miss, and welcome to the King's Head Inn, Bert Jacobs at your service." he smiles at Nellie, a smile that reveals a distinct lack of teeth with those that remain having a rather blackish appearance.

"Now what can I tell you about this 'ere hestablishment and the coosin that we are famed for"

Wellington raises and sips his sherry in answer to the salute.

"Well, goodman Jacobs, it is a fine establishment indeed, but I couldn't help noticing a certain nervous atmosphere upon our entry. Would you perhaps be so good as to elaborate?"

Klevendon thinking:   The ignoramus said 'coosin'! Ah, the 'softly, softly' approach is paying dividends with the barman. Roxborough eats like a warthog.

Klevendon pops a rasher of bacon into his mouth. "What a jolly company we are!"

Roxborough thinking:   Ah! that's better. A man can't think on an empty stomach! Let's hope these meat platters live up to their billing. Where are they anyway? Should be here by now. Maybe I should hurry this Jacobs fellow along. [i]Glancing at Nellie[/i] Pretty young filly. Could do with a bit more flesh on those skinny bones - nothing a proper meal or two wouldn't fix though. Seems astute enough. Come on! Come on! Where are those wretched platters!

"Yes, yes do tell. What seems to have everyone spooked? Don't tell me you've run out of meat platters!"

The mention of a "nervous atmosphere" by Wellington and "everyone spooked" by Roxborough elicits a suspicious look from Jacobs, "Probably due to you being strangers or somit. Folks round these parts don't take too kindly to 'strangers' arskin questions" the way he spits the words 'somit and 'strangers' puts Nellie on her guard, she had heard people use that terminology when they suspected the presence of journalists on many occasions.

OOC:   You may roll the following skills if you have them. * Con * Investigation * Intimidation As usual the more successes the better, you need a minimum of 3 successes Dont forget any specialisations.

"How peculiar! This is a public house is it not? A hostelry? It's my experience that places like this go out of business if it weren't for strangers walking through their doors and giving them custom. Indeed how does one become a regular or a local if one never ventures through the door in the first place? I wonder how many of the regulars here today were once strangers." Roxborough give the bar-keep a firm but quizzing look.

"What is the world coming to when a fellow can't even sit down for a meal, buy another man a drink and make pleasantries about the goings on of the world and a simple observation? Really, maybe my friends and I were misled about the welcome that we would receive at this establishment. We came here on a personal recommendation that we would receive a warm welcome and that the food - particularly the meat platter - was exceptional. I really do hope that we haven't been misinformed and that we are wasting our time. Perhaps my friends and I should find another establishment for our lunchoen? "

Nellie gives herself a congratulatory pat on the back as the barkeep raises his tankard in a toast, she seemed to have won the man over.

Nellie looks aghast as Wellington jumps right in and all but starts an interrogation, at least Klevendon seemed to be playing along.

Nellie thinking:   As long as they could remain 'a group of friends popping in for luncheon' they had a chance to do some digging. This was definitely a case of 'softly, softly' - the article in the paper in [b]Professor Hawthorne's[/b] ante-room was quite sensationalist and didn't paint the Kings Head in a good light. The events of the other evening were bound to have had an impact on trade and the owners and staff of the pub would rather the whole incident forgotten.

Just as she's about to aim a 'kick in the shins' Wellington's way Roxburgh pipes up with his comments.

With a sinking feeling Nellie listens to Jacobs stopping her kick almost as soon as it had begun.

Nellie thinking:   Drat he's suspicious. He could clam up now or worse....

Nellie's eyes goggle as Roxborough replies in his usual brash and forthright manner.

Nellie thinking:   now that's fanning the flames, we need to be contrite not combative!

Nellie tries to smooth things over,Con (6) [dice]0[/dice]

Quickly leaning over and patting Roxborough on the arm in a motherly manner, whilst throwing him a look that a basilisk might be proud of. "Now, Now Roxy... don't go getting all worked up dear Jacobs didn't mean anything by what he said, people always stop and look when a newcomer enters the tap-room, it's human nature." Turning to Jacobs Nellie rolls her eyes in an exasperated manner and fixes him with a smile."Goodness, I do apologise for my friend.. I think that he must have missed hid breakfast as well as elevenses. Lack of food does make him appear so irritable but he's such a dear really, you know."

Luckilly it seems that Nellie's womanly charms are working to soothe any hurt to the inn keeper from either Wellington's directness or Roxborough's bluntness.

Jacobs, having half risen from his seat at the fierceness of Roxborough's assault, slumps back down, "Pay it no mind Miss, I'm sure neither of the fine gennelmen meant any disrespect".

He eyes both gentlemen warily, "This hestablishment has been plagued of late by journalists and sech. So we are all wary of strangers. Not to suggest that you fine people is of that sort. I can tell you is all persons of quality" he coughs discreetly and nudges the empty tankard suggestively.

Roxborough thinking:   Good girl Nellie! I knew you were a sharp one and would get in on the ruse! Good lass!

The press eh! Bloody gutter-snipes if you ask me! Should shoot the bloody lot of 'em! Don't read the rags myself - can't stand the drivel and lies that they write! He picks his glass up "Oops! looks like that needs a refill. Be a good man and do the honours, get yourself another one while your at it...and see if you can chivvy those meat platters along too. Good man! Good man!"

Roxborough thinking:   Man's half-pissed already! Couple more drinks should have that tongue nicely loosened and the lovely [b]Nellie[/b] will tease all we want from him. Hmmm where [i]are[/i] those infernal platters?

With a speed that belies his condition, Jacobs returns bearing his and Roxboroughs refills,
"The food will be wiv you momentarilly"

Retaking his seat next to but at a proper distance from Nellie, he takes a sip of the clear liquid and gazes at her in a most enamoured fashion.
"Now Miss you was arskin...."

Nellie almost chokes on her sip of gin and tonic at Rocburgh's denunciation of the press. Oh yes there were the unscrupulous reporters, the ones willing to bend the truth to fit the story but not Nellie. Her driving force was the truth, report things fairly but not shrinking from reporting ant unpleasentness either.

Before she can gather her wits and chastise her companions for pushing Jacobs too hard for information the man was back. It was easy to see his motivation, drink and... she gave a shiver as she remembered his smile and those god-awful teeth.

"Well I'm shocked to hear that the Kings' Head has been subjected to reporters intruding here. What on earth happened to bring them here? she asks in a low voice, taking a slow look around as if looking for interlopers among the other customers.

Nellie thinking:   If he mentions the cabby then I can look shocked and declare that was the very evening that 'Welly's' poor aunt took sick and that we'd have been witness to any events.

Following Nellie's example, Jacobs too looks around. Then satisfied there are no evesdroppers he leans forward to the table centre and waves a conspiratorial beckoning. "Not that I want's to be talkin abaht it agin, but..."

Up close the smell of liquor on the innkeepers breath is even further pronounced, thankfully it probably covers far worse aromas.

Casting a final look around and pausing to look each of you in the eye, he continues.
“Just promise me you won’t go spreading this abaht. Enough 'arm has been done already.”

He takes another drink from his tankard,
“It 'appened the night afore yesterday. I was rolling an hempty barrel into the backyard when I notices that the gates was open. Likely the deliveryman forgot to shut them, but knowing that some folks can’t resist temptation and might want to take a few free samples I walks over to shut 'em."

Another sip,
“As I neared I 'eard a snarling and snuffling like a dog would make. But it weren't any dog as lurked without, but the Devil hisself! There haint much light in that alley, but I seen its eyes shining in the light from my back door. All yellow and gleaming they was with malicious intent! I reckon it was Old Nick hisself, 'unched down when I first saw him, because 'e straightened up and looked down at me. He must have been seven foot tall if he was an hinch!"

A final sip, much larger than before,
“And then I 'eard the Devil’s pitchfork a-tapping on the ground—click, click, click. Ah, you might smile and think me mad, but you never smelt the stench of death that followed that Devil. Like a charnel pit, it was.
Well, I don’t mind saying that I turned and ran back inside quick smart without daring to look behind me. Guess the Devil didn’t want me that night, for otherwise who'd be telling you this story?”

He bangs the empty tankard on the table top, looks around for hints of disbelief amongst you, then shrugs and points over his shoulder to the rear exit of the inn.
“Don't believe me? Go look for yourselves.”

No sooner had he finished his tale but the food arrives.

"A most compelling tale indeed, Mister Jacobs, and I'd say you were lucky to have acted as you did."

Wellington nods gravely, indicating the seriousness of his words.

"Although I am more than anxious to have a look for myself, I fear my companions need their inner beast sated first."

"That is a terrifying tale, Mr. Jacobs," says a simpathysing Klevendon. "After our lunch, we'll have to do as you say and see for ourselves."

Klevendon thinking:   Oh my good grief! I am hungry now--I'm hallucinating about eating bacon.

"Mr. Jacobs, another point, you said 'Not that I want's to be talkin abaht it agin, but...'--so do you mean someone else has been asking you questions?"

Tabs wrote:"Mr. Jacobs, another point, you said 'Not that I want's to be talkin abaht it agin, but...'--so do you mean someone else has been asking you questions?"

Jacobs eyes the way you are tucking into an enormous steak with elan and nods, "Aye bleedin newspapers, but they was more interested in somit to do wiv a bleedin 'orse".
His eyes have now widened in a mark of disbelief as he watches the honourable Roxborough finish one large plateful of meats, and, with a barely concealed belch, begin the second.

Klevendon shakes his head in agreement, casts a sidelong glance at Nellie, before replying to the barman: "Tut!--reporters, eh?"

"Would any other gentlemen have come by asking about the incident? I am referring to someone of better dress and manner than the average reporter?"

Horatio Wellington nips his sherry, regarding the tempestuous prowess of Roxborough's stomach out of the corner of his eye.

Nellie takes the opportunity to take a few bites from her sandwich while listening to Jacobs' story and then to the enquiries of her companions.

Nellie thinking:   What does Jacobs' story have to do with the missing cab driver, or as the Professor had told them a dead horse? Listening to [b]Jacobs[b] it didn't seem that his experience, whatever it was, and the death of [b]Professor Hawthorne's[/b] assistant were connected.

She ignores Klevendon's remark and look, but adds him to the list of potential recipients of a 'kick to the shins'.

Nellie thinking:   Aha, the dead horse...

"A horse? Surely your terrible encounter is more interesting than a horse? Nellie asks Jacobs trying to elicit more information without trying to seem overly interested in the incident.

Having sated his hunger with the first platter, Roxborough's pace slows as he savours each mouthful and his attention returns to the table and the ongoing conversation.

Horse? Didn't mention anything about eating horse! Do we look like bloody Frenchies? he leans over, grinning, with a twinkle in his eye and gives Jacobs a playful punch on the arm.

Roxborough thinking:   Of course, there's nothing wrong with horse, quite like it myself, it has that sweetness that lingers on the palette. Hmm, it's a been while, maybe a quick trip to Paris is in order. A nice sirloin of cheval with a green pepper sauce and perhaps a bottle of Chinon. Hmm yes, definitely time to go and pay Le Blanc's a visit!

It's alright my good man, I'm joshing with you, these platters are as fine as we were led to believe and do your fine establishment proud

So these ink-scribblers were only interested in this dead horse and not the fact that old Nick is wandering the streets of London looking for souls to steal? Well it's a good job you're made of sterner stuff than that poor old horse eh?

DrPeterson wrote:"Would any other gentlemen have come by asking about the incident? I am referring to someone of better dress and manner than the average reporter?"

carnage_lee wrote:"A horse? Surely your terrible encounter is more interesting than a horse? Nellie asks Jacobs trying to elicit more information without trying to seem overly interested in the incident.

"Oh yes ha bleedin 'orse. They was all abaht the dissaperance of some cabbie and the deaf of his bleedin 'orse in the lane out back of the yard. I tells them abaht my visitor, baht it seemed they was not hinterested, raver 'ear abaht a bleedin dead 'orse. Well they soon left wiv a flea in their hears but by then the damage was done. Now all I hears abaht is how drink and the devil is partners, I can 'ardly go outside wivout some little git shoutin 'Look there goes old Jacobs oft to see old Nick as I shouldn't wonder'."

He casts his eyes around the inn ruefully, "Little gits give em a fick hear I will".

"Now then Gents and Miss, henjoy your meals and sundries. Take a look aht back if you wish, but arsk me no more abaht fings as would be best forgot"

When [if we have no more questions] Jacobs leaves, Klevendon remarks: "If the old soak had seen a giant lizard instead of the Devil, this mystery would make more sense!"

Wellington's face lights up at Klevendon's remark.

"But it is making more and more sense, my dear fellow! I find it highly unlikely for good Jacobs there to posses any learning in the field of naturalism or indeed any other science. Dark nights, mixed with spirits and high anxiety tend to deform what we cannot immediately rationalise into something all the more comprehensible. And in Jacobs's case, his mind grasped for the supernatural."


Wellington takes out his pipe and starts filling it, looking at the others.

"So, who can explain the perceived enormous growth rate of the creature?"

"Ghosts," states Klevendon to himself, musing on Wellington's remarks, "something Jacobs cannot explain, therefore 'Old Nick'?"

He asks Roxborough: "No creature can grow so fast, can it?"

Well no natural creature that I know of could grow to that size in such a short amount of time. A good piglet of say, a Tamworth or Berkshire, might put on 3-4lbs a day - but from an hatchling to a seven foot tall beast in a matter of a few days - well, as I say, no natural beast that I can think of.

He glances around the table "Any one fancy a dessert"?

Wellington lights his pipe and pulls a few puffs, listening to Roxborough's agrarian exposé.

"Let us assume for just one moment then, Gentlemen and Miss Bly, that we are possessed of superior mental faculty than goodman Jacobs and not resort to the unnatural. How could this beast have miraculously matured over the course of just a few days? Doesn't that seem too unlikely?", Wellington's voice has a playful note to it, which sounds almost as patronising as it does insulting.

Well we are purportedly dealing with a mythical creature and unless the Zoological society has been studying them in secret we don't really know much of their habits! We can deduce that they either grow at an alarmingly fast rate or that there is more than one of them - a juvenile and an adult"

He pauses and then adds with a touch of drama "Well possibly an adult, we don't know how big these creatures might get, so 7 feet might only be a youngster and not a fully mature specimen! Think how large it might grow!"

Roxborough's face takes on a contemplative demeanour "If I remember what Mr. Williams, my old classics master taught me correctly, then a basilisk's gaze was deadly - one look into it's eyes and you'd die of fright and its breath was poisonous - one whiff and the same fate awaits. Now of course I'm not suggesting that what we are dealing with is a basilisk but it could account for a horse suddenly dropping dead I suppose. Perhaps is too much for a 7' specimen to consume but not perhaps the driver? Then of course our man Jacob's said he looked into the creatures yellow eyes - so he either didn't have the good sense to drop dead as per legend or the effects of drink counter the creatures stare! " he chortles to himself.

Wellington exclaims a loud "Exactly!" and jabs his pipe at Roxborough.


Good man! For there to be an infant, there has to be a parent. And why would such a parent all of a sudden show itself? Because it is gathering food for its young! Clever thinking, Roxborough!

He puts his pipe back between his teeth and takes a few more puffs in smug satisfaction.

"And I'm sure Mr. Williams was a fellow learned in the matters of the unreal and doubtless the fellow was right about this mythical creature deadly potential. Add to that the account of Mr. Jacobs, whose veracity I've no reason to doubt and you come to the simple conclusion that the creatures we are hunting are no basilisks."

"Now the only piece of the puzzle we must find is who is behind the creature?", he looks around at the fellowship again with inquisitive eyes. "Theories?"

Nellie listens to her companions as the postulate upon the nature of whatever it was that Jacobs' had seen.

Nellie thinking:   Had Jacobs seen anything at all? He was half-cut already at barely midday, what on earth would he be like in the evening? I doubt that havign a look around the yard will tell us much, too much time had elapsed. Time... this all happened before the 'egg' hatched... so there might be any connection at all to the newly hatched 'basilisk'.

Wellington: "Now the only piece of the puzzle we must find is who is behind the creature?", he looks around at the fellowship again with inquisitive eyes. "Theories?"

"I'm of the mind that someone at Professor Hawthorne's club is behind this.. well behind sending the deadly egg anyway. We've got two letters of introduction, lets make use of them. If we split up we'll cover twice as much 'ground'.

Klevendon shuts his mouth with a snap--after he realises it had been gaping. 7' monsters, and such like, is foolish talk; not only does he wonder what he is involved in, he begins to suspect his companions sanity. . . .

Klevendon thinking:   Wellington is infuriating, Roxborough like one of his Tamworths, and Miss Bly, well I suppose she's alright--for a woman.

"So the club?" asks Klevendon, trying to ignore Roxborough's request for dessert.

"Yes, indeed!", Wellington concurs with Klevendon.

"Miss Bly, I take it you and Lord Roxborough will look into the more naturalistic side of the matter, while Klevendon and I go to the gentleman's club."

Wellington empties his pipe and tucks it away before getting up.

Taking her last bite of the delicious sandwich Nellie gathers her thoughts.

Nellie thinking:   I'm not sure that Jacobs' close encounter with Old Nick and the investigation that Professor Hawthorne has tasked us with are connected, unless it is by their fanciful and mythical connections. Jacobs seemed sincere, he believes he almost had a run in with the devil. So I think we'd have to agree that he saw something and events did take a tragic turn with the death of the horse. We need to get to the truth, find a way to make sense of this investigation. It's a long shot but we may be able to find some information at the Zoological Gardens, even if we can learn enough to rule out any connection between the dreadful death at the Natural History Museum and the events here it'd help clear the 'murky waters'. So there's two avenues to explore and I'd be better off trying to learn anything of interest that [b]Professor Atwood[/b] of the Zoological Gardens could share than at the so called 'Cerebral Activities Society'.

Nellie dabs the corners of her mouth with her napkin before speaking, "I suppose I had best go to the Zoological Gardens, my presence at Hawthorne's club may not encourage the free exchange of information the we would like. We should arrange to meet later and thoroughly examine the facts we have gathered."

"Goodness, I don't think it would take that long to complete our tasks. Time is of the essence if poor Higgins' family are to receive any comfort in knowing that whatever dreadful event happened to him is at an end, the perpetrator dealt with and punished. We can all meet at The Ritz for an early high tea at half past three. Nellie eyes move to indicate Roxburgh's prodigious appetite has been factored into her planning. "We should be able to agree on our next steps then and have a few more hours to try to ascertain the truth of the matter whilst taking tea. Leaving some hours to continue on any new paths of investigation we set ourselves before dinner."

Jacobs, who had returned to the bar, comes back to your booth,
"I does 'ope that the food has bin to your taste?"
He glances towards a door to the far left of the bar,
"The door to the yard is open if you care to take a look? 'elp yourselves I shan't be comin wiv you"

Wellington knits his brow together as he absorbs Miss Bly's words.

"Three o'clock it is then, Miss Bly."

He nods curtly and then acknowledges Jacobs.


"No need for that, good man, we shall have a look and be on our way."

An invite to dinner sounds top-hole to Klevendon, he is intrigued by what Wellington's residence will be like inside.

Klevendon thinking:   I know of a Mrs. Hudson, a housekeeper in SW1, who cooks delicious beef stroganoff, how superb it would be. . . .

He asks Nellie: "Do you often take tea at the Ritz, Miss Bly?

"That man"--Jacobs--"almost insists that we look over the stables, but won't go himself . . ." says Klevendon, wondering if he is reading more into the barkeep's comments than they warrant.

Well these sound like splendid plans! Miss Bly and myself will head off to the zoological gardens and we will meet you all back at the Ritz for tea. Lovely! We can then all share our discoveries. My good man Wellington, I will most graciously accept your kind invitation to dinner. Very kind of you.

Right, shall we take a look around the stable yard? Roxborough begins to stand "and if you would allow me the honour of paying for our modest luncheon.

"Depends on how you define 'often', Mr Klevendon I suppose I might take tea there once or twice per month in the summer and infrequently during the winter months." Nellie answers as she pulls on her gloves. "Well then, let's be about our business..." Nellie adds, standing and collecting her bag.

As you open the door to the back yard, you are aware that not only Jacobs but indeed several of his patrons are watching.

The door opens onto a small, cobbled yard. A path, of sorts its edges defined by stacks of empty barrels, leads from this back door to the open double gates which give access from the alley. The fact that they still stand open suggests that Jacobs has indeed refused to enter the yard since his meeting with the 'devil'

Beyond the gates lies the alley which according to the newspaper reports, had been the resting place of the dead horse and the location of the dissapeared cabbie.

OOC:   Rolls suggested are Investigation or Perception. Please say where you are looking, in the yard or the alley beyond.

Wellington takes out his looking glass and let's his gaze wander over the courtyard, looking for any traces of the beast, paying special attention to the areas of softer soil or patches of mud which might contain footprints or rocks and woodwork which may be scratched by claws.

Investigation (5 successes),average 4+[dice]0[/dice]

Nellie pauses in the doorway to take a look at the yard, trying to picture the events of a couple of evenings ago as related by Jacobs. Stepping into that yard Nellie watches Wellington as he too scrutinises the courtyard, pausing to peer at objects through his looking-glass.

Nellie thinking:   The article said that the horse was found in the alley, perhaps something can be found from that location and I wonder where the nearest sewer access is? That was the 'basilisk's' point of egress from the basement, perhaps whatever killed the horse likewise preferred to keep to the tunnels below the streets.

Nellie then steps carefully past the busy Welington intent on giving the alleyway her attention. Stopping at the gates she looks left and right, paying attention to the floor and walls of the alleyway, also looking for a grating or manhole cover.

Nellie uses her Perception,Perception(8) [dice]0[/dice]

Imitating the inquisitive lead of Wellington and Nellie, Klevendon examines the barrels.

OOC:   ooc,Perception 6, Investigation 6: [dice]0[/dice], [dice]1[/dice]

Suddenly the Inn's small yard and the alleyway become a hive of activity as our intrepid investigators hither and thither in the search for something out of the ordinary to confirm or refute the story of Jacobs. Wellington, magnifying glass in hand, bends to the occasional suspicious mark, but in most cases he obviously finds little as evidenced by the shaking of head and the clucking of tongue.

Wellington,It is a simple matter to identify the barrel that Jacobs had claimed to have been rolling on the night in question, as its apparent abandonment in mid roll is obvious. Further evidence of Jacobs presence at the gates can be ascertained by a discarded leather tobacco pouch bearing his initials being found just within the yard as if abandoned during a hasty withdrawal. Both the position of the empty barell and the dropped pouch would appear to lead into the alleyway, where it would seem Nellie has found something else.

Miss Bly, taking a more logical path, heads straight through the open gateway to the alleyway beyond. It appears that she quickly spots her target as she halts, takes a notebook from her purse and with a much used pencil stub begins to write.

Nellie,Your consinderation of [b]Jacobs' [/b]tale of that night, leads you straight to the alley. There you find two things of interest; 1) There is indeed a sewer cover several feet away from the gates which bears evidence of recent disturbance. Its cover having been pulled aside allowing access to the sewers below. It is impossible to tell whether this cover has been lifted from above or pushed from below, but filthy marks on the cobbles would deem to show that someone or something had recently used this access point as a means of exiting the sewers. 2) Just a few yards from the sewer entrance is a pile of animal dung.

Klevendon, not to be outdone in the investigative stakes, rushes butterfly like between the detective and the journalist in hope of finding something they may have missed.

Klevendon,None of the barells show evidence of anything untoward. However you will have noticed Wellington's discovery of the leather tobacco pouch and come to the same conclusions as the detective and obviously Miss Bly as to the alleyways importance indeed you may have spotted the animal dung before her. If only Roxborough was outside with you he may be able to identify it.

Of Roxborough there is no sign of his presence outside and it is quickly concluded that he is finding it difficult to leave his, several, plates. Yet there is no worry as to his actual whereabouts as sooner or later his natural inquisitiveness will overcome his appetite.

Wellington leans down to pick up the pouch and pockets it. He strides over to Miss Bly and beckons her attention with a harrumph as he overlooks the alley.

"Observations, Miss Bly?"

Investigation average=5 successes,4+[dice]0[/dice]

Nellie looks over to Wellington as he asks her for her observations about the alley.

"Two things immediately stood out to me, Mr. Wellington." Nellie half turns and points to the man-hole nearby. "That probably leads to the sewers someone has opened the cover, recently and in some haste I would imagine as it hasn't been replaced properly. An entry point to the sewers would appear to link the missing Cabbie and the dreadful death of Mr. Higgins.

Nellie then points to the pile of dung

"I've not had a look at that but from here I can tell it wasn't deposited by the dead horse, totally the wrong texture. So, if not from the horse from what?"

Nellie thinking:   I wonder if Wellington will add these 'clues' up the same as me? The sewers make a good way to travel unnoticed, especially if you have a body to transport. Maybe the cabbie's assailant arrived and departed via the sewers, I would definitely think they left in that manner. The dung is interesting, it's out of place and therefore I would hope important. Getting it identified will be important I have no doubt. If [b]Roxborough[/b] is unable to identify it then [b]Professor Atwood[/b] might prove invaluable.

Roxborough follows the others into the courtyard and then into the alley a couple of minutes later.

Sorry about that, just settling the tab with the good landlord. Now, what have we all discovered in my absence? he takes a quick glance around, quickly taking in the alleyway.

OOC:   I'll take the average for perception as I'm just taking a quick look - if something takes my eye or if something is pointed out to me then I will roll appropriately

"Some astute observations, Miss Bly. Would you be able to extrapolate any theories or conclusions from them?"

Wellington steps over to the dung and crouches beside it. He takes out his pen knife and slices a section loose. He raises the knife up to his face and for a moment you think he might put it in his mouth, but he instead smells it, before carefully scrutinising it through his glass.

"It is the things we carelessly leave behind that tell most about us, Miss Bly. This piece of waste might just prove to be one of our more indicative clues."

Priest,Can I roll intelligence or some other stat to deduce whether the dung is from a carnivore or a herbivore? And more importantly, from a young or an adult?

Roxborough,
Following a large belch of intestinel satisfaction, your eyes are immediately drawn to the small pile of dung that is seemingly attracting your colleagues attention. By Jove, you think, is Wellington so hungry that he is about to eat a small potion? With a sigh of relief you watch as he simply sniffs at it then peers at it through his ever present magnifying glass.
You have difficulty seeing anything to get excited about, it being hardly large enough to have come from a creature of any merit, or fodder. Even from a distance you are able to discern that whatever its species of origin, this tiny pile of animal dung came from no beast you are aware of.

Wellington! step carefully dear man! There may well be tracks or other spoor there. Whatever left that behind would have been stationary whilst it did so - any prints or the like will be set deeper and more likely still be visible.

Roxborough moves forwards slowly, examining the ground as he does so.

Roxborough thinking:   bloody imbeciles! So bloody keen to get at the obvious that they've probably destroyed all the other tracks and evidence! Still, [b]Peter Roxbourough[/b] isn't just any old hunter, if there's anything to track here, I'll find it

OOC:   Tracking: [dice]0[/dice]

Wellington raises an annoyed eyebrow at Roxborough.

"My dear man, do you honestly think that I have not the wherewithal to think of such implications myself? Indeed, if my faculties are this woefully praised, I might as well retire from this investigation."

Intelligence*2 roll (8!!! successes),[dice]0[/dice]

"Now, now, gentlemen, you're both getting a little testy," comments Klevendon, amused by their antics.

Klevendon thinking:   Old Nick squatting, taking a shit: Why can't I rid myself of the image?

He slides the manhole cover with his boot and peers--carefully--into the sewer.

Nellie steps to one side to allow Roxborough through. Looks on aghast as Wellington gets rather closer than she would dream of doing, to investigate the droppings.

"I agree Mr Wellington this... spoor might allow us to identify whatever the assailant might be. Whether this is related to the case we have been charged with, remains to be seen of course. The closeness of an entry into the sewers may be indicative but could also be coincidental. Some nice tracks that we can compare would be nice. Nellie smiles.

Nellie steps to one side to allow the men to go about their tasks... mildly exasperated by the squabbling.

Nellie looks further along the alley

Nellie thinking:   If we can't find anything here we should check the whole alley for tracks...

Gentlemen, is that any way for a person of quality to behave? To continue quickly and mayhap forestall fisticuffs;

Wellington,you have noticed a quantity of animal bone in the feces, of what animal you cannot tell without subjecting it to a proper analytical examination. Also you have noticed that the iron rungs of the sewer ladder bear scratches indicative of recent use.

Roxborough,Alas! your fears have been proved correct there are no tracks to be found, if they had existed they have long since disapeared. However you do notice that close to the dung deposit there are indications on the cobblestones of having been struck repeatedly by a sharp, pointed object. Possibly Jacobs' 'pitchfork'. Along with the others you spot that whatever had been here had either arrived from or exited into the sewer, as the iron rungs of the ladder show scratch marks indicative of recent use.

Klevenden,Apart from a nose full of noxious aromas, the iron rungs of the sewer ladder show scratches indicative of recent use.

Miss Bly,As the others you too notice the scratches on the sewer ladder. Seeing it as confirmation of your thoughts on the sewers use as a means of either arrival or departure. Alas, regular use of the alleyway has removed any sign of whatever may have been here on the night in question.

"Something has been down here," calls Klevendon over his shoulder.

"Indeed it has!" Roxborough moves to examine the marks on the steps and compares them to the marks on the cobblestones, wondering if they could have been caused by the same thing.

OOC:   Tracking roll[dice]0[/dice]

He then moves on to the dung - picking a small piece up between his fingers, smelling it, crumbling it between his fingers - checking it's consistency and freshness. He takes a handkerchief from a pocket and places a decent size sample into it, folds the handkerchief and places it in a bag. He then takes another handkerchief and wipes his hands clean.

OOC:   Tracking roll[dice]1[/dice]

Nellie steps over to where Klevendon stands and joins him in looking at the scuff marks on the ladder leading to the sewers. Nellie hastily covers her nose and mouth with her dainty embroidered handkerchief to try and ward off the stench eminating from below.

"It certainly looks like the lader has been used recently; however we shouldn't jump to any conclusions. Those marks might have been left by someone, perhaps a police constable investigating the disappearance, for instance."

Nellie thinking:   [i]something[/i] indeed.... not many creatures can use a ladder however... it's a shame we don't have any tracks to compare with the ones from earlier.

"We are quite close still to the Museum, I wonder if the sewer systems between there and here are connected?"

Klevendon wishes he had thought to offer his handkerchief to Nellie; he remembers that it is not as clean as it should be--he had a good blow into it before entering the museum, and thanks the gods.

"The smell is most distressing, Miss Bly, only a tough man like Roxborough could explore down there." Klevendon apologises to Nellie: "I am most certainly not a 'tough man'!"

"Explore down there!" Nellie says through her handkerchief. "Surely it would not be wise to explore or to try and track anything through the sewers!" She exclaims, wondering if that was what the impetuous Roxborough would plan to do.

Reaching out Nellie places a hand lightly on Roxborough's arm as if to deter him from diving headlong into the sewer.

"We should not contemplate taking any actions in haste; one man has already lost his life and another is missing." Nellie doesn't add that they haven't made a firm connection between the events here and back at the Natural History Museum. "If indeed the bas.. whatever it is we seek, makes it home beneath our feet in the London sewer tunnels, then I fear we shall have to venture there to confront it. However now is not the time. We need to deduce exactly what our quarry is and make plans accordingly."

Nellie looks to each of her companions, hoping that their earlier actions won't push them to make rash decisions.

"We should take the sample of that Mr Roxborough has collected to Professor Attwood in the hope that he can identify from whence it came. The other prong of the investigation is to determine the whoever sent the egg to Professor Hawthorne".

Nellie steps back, away from the manhole.

"Please, re-seal the cover and let us be about our tasks."

Whatever the creature was that dropped this was certainly a carnivore. However, the size of the droppings and the dimensions of the animal remains within suggest a smaller animal, not one wont to attack a horse or human, let alone slay them in such a manner. I indeed agree with Miss Bly advice. We continue the investigation as planned and meet up for tea.

He nods at Klevendon.

"Come along, old boy, we've a gentleman's club to investigate."

"Absolutely," says Klevendon, relieved that the sewer's cover has been replaced. He brightens: "The club: nice drinkies?"