Play@YSDC

Once more the curtains open on a new scene, in fact a new day – Wednesday May 25th. At the small but excellently furnished lodgings in Baker Street, the opposite end and opposite side of the road from his more famous colleague Holmes.

Wellington’s morning procedure is interrupted by a knock at his door. Outside stands his housekeeper, Mrs McCandlle,
And a rather soggy looking Klebbs. From his appearance you deduce that it is raining again.

Mrs McCandlle fusses in that ‘housekeeperish’ manner. Beneath one brawny arm she carries copies of several of this morning’s newspapers, including one whose lurid headlines scream at you.

OOC:   Ahem! Klevendon, not Klebbs.

"Have you seen the front page, sir!" says an excitable Klevendon, thrusting the newspaper under Wellington's nose, "that ridiculous Mattison has put two and two together, made five, and has written about the 'Cosmist League'--nothing to do with our visit at all!"--Klevendon adds tamely--"Well, I think so . . . .

"Note: 'the brightest and most scientific minds of the century is investigating,'" adds Klevendon, smiling mischievously, "I presume that doesn't refer to me."

Wellington smiles as he scans the article.

"It would appear that despite his lacking skills as an editor, the man is an excellent judge of character."

He produces a pipe from his dressing gown pocket and proceeds to stuff it.

"Klevendon, you look positively watered down. Would you care for some breakfast or would you prefer a pipe by the fireplace? Mrs. McCandlle's cooking can restore to the most exhausted of men to their stout selves."

Halting in her cushion plumping duties at the mention of breakfast, Mrs McCandlles regards the rain dampened figure of Mr Klevendon with a dour look of disaproval, "Would ye be wanting a bowl of porridge? My husband the late Mr McCandlles used to swear to the spirit restorative powers of a fine bowl of oatmeal. Made with water and flavoured with salt you ken?"

OOC:   Apolgies my dear Mr Klevendon for mixing you with that reporter chappie

Nellie wakes rather later than she intended and has to hurry to get ready. Making sure she has her notebook and all the notes she made the previous evening she leaves her home and hails a hansom heading for The Ritz.

"Uh, no, thank you, Mrs. Mcandlles," says Klevendon; "just tea . . . piping hot, if you please."

As an aside to Wellington: "I wonder what the no doubt worthy husband died of?" he continues loudly, "A pipe!" and stands beside the fire, lifting his coattails and roasting his backside. "Have you any news--the urchin--Miss Bly?"

"I have not been so fortunate as to receive tidings from Miss Bly, but my street contacts proved very valuable indeed. You will of course forgive me if I save up what I learned until we meet our companions? I find repeating myself to be so tedious."


Wellington moves through his apartment, gathering his things for the day.

"Of course, sir!" says Klevendon. "To the Ritz?"

Your timing is, of course, impecable, as the clock in the foyer of the Ritz is striking the sixth chime of eight you have arrived. As one would expect you are all impecably attired with outer clothing suiltable for the weather.

With all the pomp, formality and service that one would expect from such a prestige establishment, you are quickly shown to a table for four and directed, most diligently, towards the menu.

Three of you are present Roxborough, it appears, is somewhat tardy. No doubt delayed by a rather winsome pie or such.

"I trust you had an interesting evening, Miss Bly?" asks Klevendon.

Before they left his apartment, Klevendon clearly saw Wellington slipping his pistol into his coat pocket.


Once they've arrived at the Ritz, Wellington orders a strong Oolong and brandy and reclines in his chair, his chin resting upon his chest as he seems to drift between sleeping and waking, clearly lost in thought.

Nellie smiles as she walks into the dining room, the smells of bacon, eggs and the other necessities of a proper breakfast. Nellie approaches the table where Wellington and Klevendon are already being seated, noting the absence of Roxborough and thinking to herself that they had better tuck in before their fellow investigator laid waste to the buffet. Taking off her gloves and sitting, with a nod of thanks to the attentive waiter Nellie asks for another pot of breakfast tea to be brought along.

"I spent the evening making use of the clipping service to which I subscribe. I spent two hours gathering facts on our number one suspect but more of that later..." Nellie looks around the dining room again "No sign of Richard?" she asks frowning at the glass of spirits in Wellington's hand. "I wouldn't expect him to be late, well not when there was food to be had."

"Good morning Nellie, gentlemen" Roxborough takes a seat at the table, eyeing everyones plates "I'm not too late I see, apologies for my slight tardiness"

Wellington nurses his brandy, barely noticing Roxborough's arrival. You're not sure if the man is dead, catatonic or a combination of the two.

"The 'Great Man' is lost in thought," says Klevendon of Wellington. He tries a mouthful of black pudding, but grimaces and spits the blood into a napkin. "What an unsavoury sausage!

"Good morning, Mr. Roxborough.

"Tell us more, Miss Bly."

Roxborough looks aghast as Klevendon spits out his sausage.

Roxbourough thinking:   MY GOOD LORD! UNSAVOURY! UNSAVOURY! The man's a bloody heathen, an uncultured native! Dismissing one of the finest delicacies known to man as UNSAVOURY! GOOD LORD! I may just have to join Wellington in a brandy!

Roxborough glowers at Klevendon, muttering something unintelligible as he chews a mouthful of black-pudding.

Nellie does her best to ignore Klevendon's evident dislike of black pudding. After finisher her own mouthful of delicious bacon starts to impart what she had learned the previous evening.

"Considering our suspicions and the concerns that you expressed I re-considered my plans so instead I spent the evening at a clipping-service to which I subscribe. I found nothing that seems at all suspicious or indicative of any untoward intent; no scandalous gossip, business or otherwise. The Highbury Sewerage Company seems to be above board, quite a sound investment according to their accounts." Nellie sips her tea and takes a few more mouthfuls of her breakfast, noting how delicious the devilled kidneys are. "I also found out that Carrington-Fforbes has been the chairman of the Cerebral Activities Club since August of '83 following the death of Professor Artenius Reobotham. Nothing I learned seems to suggest that he could be involved."

Nellie sets to devouring her plate while her companions digest her words.

"I would have suspected as much."

Wellington sits up in his chair.

"A man the likes of Mr Carrington-Fforbes would not jeopardise his position through direct action unless forced to do so through unusual and unforeseen circumstance. He would have used intermediaries of less savoury reputation, and would probably not have contacted them directly, but through some other man, perhaps his butler. I'm afraid that until we find more compelling evidence we can not yet hope to either confirm or disprove Carrington-Fforbes position as a suspect."


He drinks his sweet tea and continues.

"However, my sources have uncovered more concerning the whereabouts of Mr Smalls. The man has gone missing after quitting his home for the day. Due to the labyrinthine nature of the sewers and because of her husbands proficiency at navigating them, Mrs Smalls raised the alarm when her husband failed to appear. The search party found little evidence of his being there, except for the remains of the lunch his wife had been so kind as to provide him. Though I fear Mr Smalls to be lost to his wife and our investigation, there was one other detail which stood out. One of the searchers swears he saw a huge creature with fiery eyes down in the sewers."

Wellington puts the cup down on its saucer.

"I would recommend a short visit to the Sewerage Company, to perhaps ascertain ourselves of the company's planned expansions and obtain a map of that area of the sewers and afterwards we should pay a visit to this man Albert Symonds to see he'll be so kind as to show us to where he saw the beast."


"Lord Roxborough, I would be much relieved were you to bring some of your more specialised equipment with on the second part our trip."

Indeed! Indeed! Roxborough's eyes light up at the thought of hunting.

"I have a distrust of Carrington-Fforbes, I'm unsure as to why, but as you said, he seems to be above board," says Klevendon. "A sad end for Mr. Smalls, no doubt. Meeting the beast in the sewers, well . . ."--Klevendon shivers, and pops a forkful of bacon into his mouth. "Yes, if we do venture into the sewers, let us have Mr. Roxborough fully equipped for anything," he repeats, "anything!"

Nellie listens to Wellington as she continues to eat her breakfast. She raises an eye brow at the evident dislike that the renowned detective has for Lord Carrington-Fforbes she does mentally concede the point that someone of his standing would be inclined to utilise others to do his 'dirty work'.

The sad information of the missing sewerage worker, with a shiver she pictured the terrible wound on the horse as it lay on the table in Professor Atwood's examination room. It was easy to believe that an unarmed man would not fare much better than the poor beast.

Nelllie puts down her cutlery and sips some tea, alarmed by the look in Roxborough's eye as he, no doubt, imagines hunting the creature in the dark vaulted tunnels beneath the streets of London. Listening to Klevendon she nods slowly, "Obtaining a map of the sewerage networks would be invaluable." Nellie looks about hoping their conversations are not being overheard, the subject hardly fitting to the surroundings. "We know where the creature has surfaced, namely behind the King's Head, might it be a better plan to lure the creature back there?" Nellie looks directly at Roxburgh seeking his input.

Yes, a map would be very useful, always good to know the lay of the land, what! he smiles towards Nellie

As to luring the creature, that may be a little more tricky - we don't really know about its appetites and I think we may struggle getting a horse down there! We could try with a few stray curs I suppose - carnivores being carnivores, they may be enough to tempt it out.

At the very least we should begin our search at the Kings Head - we can be a little more discrete about entering the tunnels and there ought to be some decent tracks to follow. there is a definite glint in Roxborough's eyes at thought of actually hunting something, especially below the streets of London!

Roxborough leans across the table Anybody mind if I help myself to a little more...? as he generously refills his plate with bacon, black pudding, sausage, mushrooms, tomato.

Roxborough thinking:   off hunting! How jolly! Hmm...I think that should be sufficient, a nice second helping before the kidgeree!

"Well then, if we're all finished."

Wellington looks Roxborough before continuing.

"I suggest we get ahead and go to the Sewerage Company."

He finishes his drink, dries his lips with his napkin and stands.

A look of panic crosses Roxborough's face and he sputters around a mouthful of food "What! What? We haven't finished breakfast yet! It's the most important meal of the day don't you know? What..what...what about the kedgeree...? he looks imploringly at the rest of his companions.

His voice drops to a pitiable whisper The kedgeree? No one going to wait for the kedgeree....

Nellie calmly sips some more of her delicious breakfast blend tea as Wellington makes his declaration and suddenly becomes more animated.

Nellie can't help but sigh listening to Roxborough, putting her cup back on its saucer she draws breath "You misunderstood, I meant that we could attempt to lure the creature into the alley, after all it has hunted there before. It seems to me that the luring the creature would be easier than traipsing around underground?" Nellie shudders at the thought.

In no hurry to vacate her seat, Nellie then addresses the detective, "Have you considered what Carrington-Fforbes motive would be for releasing a creature into the very tunnel system that he is improving, the man would lose a fortune... imagine what the press would print if it were to become known. From what I read about the man, he is driven by his status and the 'fame' that being associated with great works of engineering bring with them, successful projects... might the reverse motive be more logical? Does it not make more sense that the dis-crediting of Carrington-Fforbes and his company is the force behind the plot we have to unravel?"

With that, Nellie, rather pointedly but daintily takes a bite of her buttered toast.

Wellington looks rather cross at the young woman.

"Miss Bly, if by my exposition I have given you the assumption that I am convinced that Mr. Carrington-Fforbes is the guilty party in this mystery, then I shall have to do my best to rectify this gross misunderstanding. I have merely elaborated to you all the process by which to eliminate or confirm all suspicion.
Indeed, to assume I would make so bold a statement without due cause is unthinkable."

This is an entirely different version of the detective than the one that was brooding not a minute ago.

"I shall have the waiter arrange for a cab to be brought forth. We have much work to do and the sooner we depart, the better for it."

"Now, now, ladies, gentlemen, please! Let's not fall out over a difference or misunderstanding," soothes Klevendon. "Anyway, I believe it was myself who wondered about Carrington-Fforbes, but please,"--he smiles--"don't hold my foolish assertions against me!"

A rather haughty looking individual, dressed in the ubiquitous uniform dress of the hotel staff, advances to your table. With a glance that reminds you of someone having found something unpleasant on his boot heel, he speaks, in the clipped tone that one expects from a well trained hotel employee, "Please keep the noise down, so as not to upset the other clientile - thankyou"

By the fact that he hovers it is obvious that he is expecting the overheard request for a cab to be repeated.

Wellington glares at the waiter as he stuffs his pipe.





"Would you be so kind as to summon a cab for our party, my good man."

The haughty official, professionally ignoring the glare from Wellington, smiles, nods, then snaps his fingers at a red coated attendant, "Jenkins...Be so kind as to see the gentleman's group to a cab".
At another hand gesture several uniformed waiters rush to your table to begin the labourious, given the amount of crockery having been used by Roxborough alone, task of clearing for further use.

Within moments Jenkins returns with the news that a cab is being held for your use. It seems that the professionalism of the hotel staff is not to be underestimated. Upon such dedication to duty and speed of implementation the Empire is structured.

As you rise a female at a nearby table flutters her eyelashes at you in coquetish manner, "I say, aren't you Mr Horatio Wellington the famous consulting detective, thought by many to be second only to the renowned Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street?"
She raises and indicates a newspaper, "It says here that you are at present investigating a plot to destroy the Empire and assassinate our beloved Queen. I trust we may sleep sound in our beds at night knowing that the future of both are safe in your hands?"

Around the room glasses, well tea cups, are raised in a general salute to the Empire and the Queen.

"Some would say, my lady," says a charming Klevendon, "that Mr. Wellington is the pre-eminent detective of our glorious Empire." He stops there, aware that his words are a little too unctuous. "Don't believe everything you read!"

At Klevendon's words she colours slightly, "indeed Sir, though I have no idea to your meaning." She glances once more to the newspaper, "It would appear that the writer of this article, a Mr..." again she peers at the newspaper, "...Oswald Mattison seems quite certain of his sources"
She folds the newspaper, showing a neatness much to be admired, and smiles towards you, "And you Sir, are you Mr Wellington's 'Dr Watson' so to speak?"

Klevendon flushes and chortles,--very embarrassed--he casts a sidelong glance at Wellington.

Wellington is highly pleased with the praise to his skill, and even more so by the correction issued Klevendon and he allows for an almost charming smile to grace his aquiline features.

"You may rest assured, madam, no keener minds nor stouter fellows could be called upon to safeguard the Queen and the Empire!"


He claps Klevendon on the shoulder and exclaims:

"Come, Doctor Klevendon, we must away, crime shan't stop itself!"


In sudden good humour he puts on his coat and makes ready to leave.

At the entrance the doors are opened by a uniformed attendant who also leads you to, and assists your entry into, one of the many carriages that line the pavement outside.

Once comfortably ensconced the driver, his lower face muffled by a thick tartan scark as defence against the morning chill, opens the small grating and enquires your destination.

"Where to?" suddenly his eyes, barely glimpsed beyond the grill, flicker with recognition, "Why Mr Wellington sir you does me great 'onour by using me 'umble cab. I recognises you from seeing you at the hinvestigation of the murder of that Chinaman, Dr Lieu, over Catford way a couple of years back. Now I see from this mornins edition of the 'Speaker' that you and your companions are hinvolved in a most urgent case to save us from the Russians"
At the mention of Russians he leans away from the grill and you hear him spit, "Bloody Russians...beggin your pardon Miss...I was in the Crimea, lost some good mates there"

Wellington leans back in the seat, obviously pleased with all the recognition.

It would appear my colleagues and I are in all the papers today... You wouldn't happen to have a copy on you, would you, melad?

Previously Wellington said:   It would appear my colleagues and I are in all the papers today... You wouldn't happen to have a copy on you, would you, melad?

For a moment or two the face disapears from view, then, accompanied by rustling sounds a copy of the Speaker is thrust through the small opening.
"It would be me 'onour to 'ave you read me copy of the paper. You see your latest hinvestigation has made the front page"
"Right Sir, where to?"

"Cosmist League, Cosmist League," muses Klevendon. "Maybe there is a plot. . . ."

(On behalf of Dr.P who is temporarily absent)

Wellington subjects Klevendon to a silent glare.

To the cabbie he calls, "Take us to the offices of the Highbury Sewege Company my good man. And I wouldn't put too much stock in the preposterous ideas being touted by the Speaker, it would appear that the editor, Mr Mattison, has an overactive imagination, he might be better employed churning out penny dreadfuls or attempts at adventure novels like that chappie Doyle"

Smiling a half smile, he turns to his companions, "Roxborough, do you need to collect anything or do you have all you need in that large canvas bag you insist on carrying everwhere?"
From behind the opening the voice of the driver calls back, "Very good your 'onour, take us about twelve minutes wiv all this traffic"
A sudden crack of the drivers whip and a lurch of the cab attests to the beginning of the journey.

As their carriage pulls away from The Ritz Nellie spends a few moments looking at the people outside as they settle about their daily routines.

"What I was trying to point out during our breakfast, is that .." she pauses making sure their driver is fully occupied with the road and not his passengers before carrying on in a slightly softer tone "trying to track the creature or whatever it is in the tunnels sounds terribly dangerous. would it not be safer to try to lure it above ground... in the alleyway behind the pub... those walls and fences will help to pen it in."

"Actually, Miss Bly," says Klevendon, "I wholeheartedly agree. Meeting the beast in the tunnels . . . it would be suicide--except for Mr. Roxborough possibly. Do you have a plan to 'lure it above ground'?"

"I do not have a 'plan' as you put it but to my mind facing this creature on 'our terms' and in 'familiar territory' make perfect sense to consider any other option has to be courting the most dangerous and disastrous possibilities. The little I know of such matters of hunting and tracking would indicate to me that the employment of a 'Judas Goat' would offer the best opportunity for a satisfactory outcome." Nellie cocks an eyebrow at Roxborough inviting his comment but satisfied in her own mind that she has spoken up for common sense.

(As we seem to have misplaced Papa G, I am taking the liberty of replying for Roxborough)

Realising that he has become the centre of attention and the topic of conversation seems to have moved into his area of expertise, Roxborough, moves his activities from a particle of sausage which has taken a position of stubborness amongst his teeth and seems intent on ignoring his every attempt to dislodge it politely, "I beg your pardon, temporarily distracted...Hunting the creature - yes"

He smiles in the way that experts have when confronted by eager pupils asking simple questions, "Of course the difficulty of luring the creature from its habitat revolves around the fact that we have no idea as to the species of the beast in question, or wether its hunting habits corespond to any known hunting habits of the many predators one might encounter in the wild. Can this creature be lured? Does it have a 'territory' in which it hunts? Does this territory, assuming it has one, have boundaries? Or does it merely hunt where it happens to be at any particular time?"
He smiles again, this time to Miss Bly, "For many predators the use of a 'Judas Goat' would be effective, but for this creature, as we know so little about it, I am given to think the only means of finding and dispatching it will mean tracking it through the sewers"

Again that condescending smile, this time to Klevendon, "As distasteful as that may be, I am sure it is the only way. Providing we can pick up its trail. I would suggest we need to start at the last place we have evidence of its location, the sewer entrance behind the inn perhaps, or where this Symonds fellow that Horatio has learned of thought he saw something while searching for Smalls"

Wellington's face shows his lack of appreciation for the looseness of address and he shifts in his seat.


"I concur with the inevitability of tracking own the creature, or indeed creatures, in the sewers. We should inquire as to what information Mr. Symonds can impart upon us after we have obtained a concurrent map of the sewer system."

Roxborough said: Again that condescending smile, this time to Klevendon, "As distasteful as that may be, I am sure it is the only way.

Klevendon gulps and mutters, "Oh, I say!"

"A map of the sewer system: this is something I can lend my hand to."

OOC:   Shall I use Academics to procure a map? or maybe the Hollow Earth Society may have maps?

Klevendon,Accademics is best as using your contacts from the Hollow Earth Society is more likely to gain you some kind of archaic map of Londons underground rivers rather than a workable map of the sewers.

OOC:   I have found the necessary items to continue the adventure.

Nellie nods at Roxburgh's reply, at least he has considered her words, it was too much to hope for that he might actually agree with the course of action that she had set out. She quickly scanned the faces of her companions... yes... in their eyes... she fancied she saw the glint of .... excitement. But that was to be expected, especially of Roxborough the man would be excited about a hunt and the prospect of showing off his prowess. Nellie tried to suppress the cold feeling of dread that she suddenly felt.

Sitting back in her seat, Nellie frowned as she went through all the information that they had managed to gather so far.

OOC:   Hurrah! Not that I am that anxious to begin an underground hunt .... but this is a great investigation.

Seeing the mild look of worry on Nellie's face, Roxborough leans forwards and lightly pat's her knee in what he hope's is a reassuring manner

Don't worry my dear, I'm very experienced at this hunting game! And whilst subterranean tunnels are not the same as the African plains, I have hunted quarry back to their lair and in caves before.

Your idea to lure the creature isn't without merit but alas, we really know too little about the creature and it's habits in order to do so with any real hope of success.

It may be that our foray into the sewers will reveal more about our quarry - it's eating habits and the like. I am sure that we will not encounter the creature on our first explorations - I am hoping that we can learn whether it has a territory or whether it is nomadic. Maybe it is female? Maybe it has young? Which means it will not roam far. There are many things yet to discover about our quarry and the more information we have the better equipped we will be to deal with it.


He smiles at her again.

Priest,Okay. :)

"Well, well, I am relieved," says Klevendon; "Mr. Roxborough certainly knows what he is about!"

Welligton is looking out the window of the carriage as they drive through the streets, apparently lost in thought.

Nellie smiles and nods as Roxborough and Klevendon try to be reassuring. She wonders why Wellington is being so aloof; sitting there, staring out of the window as the cab trundles on through the streets of London.

"Well, if we must track the creature let us hope that we can obtain a map of the tunnels from the staff of the 'Sewerage Company', we don't want to be wandering about down there and getting lost."
The cab slows and comes to a stop.
"Looks like we have arrived.." Nellie says with a hint of apprehension.

OOC:   Hope that taking the liberty of moving us along is ok?

Wellington slowly fills his pipe as he stares out of the window, conveniently finishing as they draw to a halt.

He sucks his pipe absent-mindedly, muttering something that sounds like "tedious".


As the other alight, he seems to wake up out of his daydream for a moment and says:

"As much as I put my store in the stalwart servants of our Majesty's government, I think Miss Bly's charm might suit us best in the pursuit of our interests here."


He smiles a thin smile at the young woman.

"Miss Bly, if you'd be so kind?"

Nellie considered the consulting detectives words, a flash of irritation rose within her... how typical of a man to think like that. She wasn't merely a 'pretty bauble' to dangle in front of people to dazzle them into divulging information. Although she was prepared to admit that she had employed such tactics on occasion but on her terms... her decision, not being directed like some hireling.

"If.. you wish me to take the lead here, then I would ask what are our objectives here? Are we here to offer our services to try and locate the missing employee? Are we here to confront Carrington-Fforbes?"

The cab halts at outside a rather grand cassically fronted four floor building. The front entrance sits atop a flight of Neo-Classical steps flanked by highly polished brass handrails. It looks a magnificent building, perhaps a little too grand for this area of the capitol. The magnificent eagle sculptures with their outswept wings that stand each side of the oak door, seem slightly incongruous when compared to the polished brass letters that proudly boast 'The Highbury Sewerage Company'.

As the cab halts, the driver leaps, athletically for an old soldier who has seen better days, to the ground and opens the door with a flourish,
"Ere we is and in good time too, Ladies first" He flicks the steps open so that Nellie may descend with ease, professionaly ignoring any hints of tension that may be displayed by his passengers.

Inside the doors an oak panneled vestibule contains a small desk area where two smartly atired females seem busy at work with typewriters of the latest design.

As you enter one of them looks up, smiles politely, and in a polished accent enquires, "Welcome to the Highbury Sewerage Company, how may we assist you?"

Klevendon,An aquintance of yours,a fellow hollow earth enthusiast Ebeneezer Stimpson, works here as a clerk. He will have access to a limited but usefull map of the sewers.

On the stairs before entering, Wellington postulates.

"Accost Carrington-Fforbes? Based on what evidence, Miss Bly?"

That thin smile again, was he purposefully being condescending or was it some form of kindness?

"We are here to acquire a suitable map to the sewers. And to have a good look around too, of course."

Nellie stops and fixes Wellington with a withering stare. "Evidence? Why does that matter... we seem to be quite light on evidence so far, I merely meant to suggest that it might be time to 'shake the tree' as it were and see what falls."

Nellie starts to count on her fingers.... "One... something hatched from an egg, after being incubated by out 'patron' causing the death of one of his assistants and then escaping into the sewerage tunnels. The egg was sent in an package with an anonymous note harking back to a comment made about controlling the rats. She pauses Two... something else killed an mutilated a horse, wounds caused by a creature 'no known to man' ... connection, extremely unlikely to be the same creature unless it can grow from being the size of a domestic fowl to some thing approaching the power of a lion within a day or so. Three.. reports of rats, swarms of rats emerging from the sewers beneath our feet." Nellie shudders as she pictures the swarm of maddened rodents pouring from a sewer grate, scabbing on the cobbles evil beady eyes ... taking a deep breath and continuing "connection to our investigation... very suggestive of them fleeing from a threat to their natural habitat... borne out by our deductions of the larger creature, making use of the sewer tunnels." Extends another finger... "Four... reports of a missing employee of the sewerage company... Now we see a pattern, a link .. the sewers .. and we also discover that the Chairman of the sewerage company is part of the same society as our 'patron' ."

"As I said, evidence seems to be very thin on the ground, we have some egg shell, some dung, a dead man and a dead horse. Asking Carrington-Fforbes some questions might bear fruit... really I don't see what other leads we have."

"Yes, the rats swarmed because they were escaping some other horrid creature in the tunnels," agrees Klevendon. "As for chatting to Carrington-Fforbes, I don't see the harm in it, hmmm?" he looks at Wellington. "Oh!" he raises a finger, "I know of a clerk here, one Ebeneezer Stimpson, who could provide us with a map."

A deep frown appears on the detective's brow.


"The problem is that if Carrington-Fforbes is indeed the villain of this play, we have no real evidence to bring against him, despite your inclinations. Yet. If you step up to him with your youthful zeal and accuse him of what you have just so succinctly summarised, he will laugh it off as conjecture of the wildest sort and he will then move to have all evidence removed. We shall be deprived of both our final clues and our reputation. It is therefore imperative that we first study the murder weapon and enter the sewers before laying the blame at the feet of someone of Carrington-Fforbes's character."


His face visibly clears at Klevendon's connection and exclaims:

"Excellent, old boy, excellent!"

Nellie looks a bit crestfallen at Wellington's rebuke. "Ohh... well of course we shouldn't make any overt accusations, not without anything to back them up with. I think we should attempt to ask his some 'searching' questions, after all it behoves 'concerned citizens' to draw his Lordships attention to the fact that his tunnels are being used for nefarious purposes. At the very least he should be able to offer us aid, or as you say, try to cover his tracks.... but then that will give us the proof we need. If anyone is despatched to tidy things up we ought to be able to follow them. Besides, I don't quite see how tracking the creature will lead help us identify the 'mastermind' behind this plot... "

Turning to Klevendon "Capital... we can kill two birds with one stone... obtain a map and see if Carrington-Fforbes has anything to hide."

OOC:   Taking the initiative to move us forward and give the keeper a definite course of action. I'd like to think that the characters conversations are not overheard by the clerks - so the characters have their conversations before entering.

"Come on Peter, let us try and obtain an interview with his lordship, whilst our good colleagues track down a map. How very fortunate that Mr Klevendon has an acquaintance here."

As you enter one of them looks up, smiles politely, and in a polished accent enquires, "Welcome to the Highbury Sewerage Company, how may we assist you?"

Nellie steps smartly to the counter "Good morning to you!" she says in a joyfully robust manner "I do hope you can help me..." she adds in a lower, somehow more conspiratorial tone "I am working on a series of articles for 'The Strand', I have been conducting interviews with people of merit and import. However I find myself lacking a strong candidate to open the series with and then it hit me... whom could be better than Lord Carrington-Fforbes a veritable scion of industry, one of London's very own favourite sons." Nellie pauses smiling, "I'm terribly up against the publishing deadline .... would his Lordship be available for an interview?"

OOC:   Fear not, conversations prior to your approach to the desk are considered to have been unheard by any employee.

At Nellie's approach the female employee smiles.
"I'm sorry Miss? His Lordship is currently unatainable being involved with a on-site inspection. However I should add that it is not the policy of this organisation to organise interviews with one of it's leading authorities. It would be necessary to contact his Lordships private secretary to arrange such a meeting."
Her accent is heavilly clipped in a standard secretarial tone filled with officious politeness.

Again she smiles, this time with a hint of apolology, and retakes her seat at her typewriter.

Nellie nods in response, "Of course, I shall apply to his Lordship's secretary. Thank you for your time.." she adds, moving away from the counter pulling Roxborough with her and proceeding outside, to wait for the other two.

Moving a little distance from the entrance, "Oh well, that was disappointing.. so it looks like our only avenue is to venture underground." Nellie shudders at the prospect. "This creature... it's dangerous we need to be prepared do you have weapons?" she asks Roxborough

OOC:   Taking a liberty in rail-roading Papa G's character but I think it's best to help things along. Nellie and Roxy will wait for the others to return (with the map).

OOC:   Apologies to Papa G, but on account of his disapearance;

Roxborough smiles, a toothy grin which the enormous moustache does little to disguise.
"Indeed Nellie" he reddens slightly realising that he may have overstepped the bounds of propriety in the use of her first name. He pats the leather and canvas holdall that he has been carrying around with all the care of it containing the Crown jewels.
"Within are the parts to construct a .75 calibre hunting rifle. The effectiveness of which I and several African bearers can attest to. It has stopped a charging Rhino in full stride and I believe it could dispatch a bull Elephant with ease. Indeed I am ready willing and able to place my life on its ability"

He unclips the holdall and within you can see a huge rifle barrel, a large brass sighting mechanism, and various wooden atachments. He dips his hand inside the bag and produces several of the largest brass cartridges that you have ever seen probably almost half as large again as those used by the much vaunted Sharps .50 calibre of Buffalo hunting fame.
"Have no fear, these will take our mysterious creature down, once it has been tracked. Now if Mr Klevendon can furnish us with a map I am ready

OOC:   I have little idea about rifle calibres etc, but .75 seems okay

"Your life and indeed ours as well, Lord Roxborough. However, I do not doubt your skill with this tyrannical thunderer."


Wellington's glance passes between all of them.

"I can not refrain you from approaching Lord Carrington-Fforbes, Miss Bly, but I would urge against. "

At the desk: "Mr. Stimpson please. May I speak with Ebeneezer?" asks Klevendon.

OOC:   What must the rifle be like?

Having dealt with Nellie the secretary turns to answer Klevendon's request,
"Indeed Sir, please be so kind as to wait. I will send one of the boys to apraise Mr Stimpson of your presence" She produces a brass bell from the desk and rings it. It produces a sharp, not unpleasant tone probably in the key of 'C'.

After a while Stimpson, his face red with exertion, appears. From his vest pocket he produces a silk kerchief and mops his brow. Wherever he had come from obviously entailed more than a little exertion.
"My dear Klevendon. How nice to see you. May I enquire as to the nature of this visit?"

OOC:   Oh I'm sure that no matter the size of the rifle, Roxborough, is man enough to use it

"My good man, whatever have you been doing? You look positively beetroot-like!" says Klevendon. He adds: "A map--of the sewer tunnels."

Still wiping his brow, Stimpson blinks in his irratating manner, "When called I came as fast as I was able. My room is on the floor above dont-ya-know. Now a map of the sewers"
For a moment suspicion shines bright in his eyes, "Why, may one enquire, would you be needing a map of the sewers?"

Without awaiting a reply he turns to one of the busy secretary's, "Miss Jarvis. Would you be so kind as to fetch a copy of the latest sewer map for my associate Mr Klevendon, whose name you may have seen in many periodicals"

It is Klevendon's turn to go red, but it is with pleasure--he is really rather pleased. "Why do I want a map? Well," he thinks, "that would be indiscreet of me at this juncture . . . let me assure you, Ebeneezer, that your name will appear in said periodical!" He stops waffling, hoping that Stimpson is convinced.

Once again Stimpson's face turns red, but this time not from exercise. His chest swells visibly with pride, "Why my dear chap, how kind"

Within moments a copy of the map of the sewer is in your hands.

Klevendon returns to the others, holding out the map, trying to suppress a triumphant grin.

Wellington smiles, an eerie sight to say the least.


"Excellent work, Klevendon old boy. Now unless Miss Bly wishes to assault Lord Carrington-Fforbes at this particular moment, I would very like to commence upon our hunt and I have little doubt that Lord Roxborough is even more eager to do so."

Klevendon leans over to Wellington and whispers: "I say, old man, you do realise that you are grimacing?"

"Grimacing? Whatever do you mean, old boy? I am quite satisfied with the promptness of your acquiring the map and look forward to our hunt. We shall however have to be of the sharpest wit down there."

Wellington pulls out his pipe and fills it again.


"Shall we set off then?"

Roxborough smile at the antics of the renowned detective and the antiquarian. As he slowly, and with great attention to detail, begins to fit together the various parts of his rifle, he begins to salivate over the potential gastronomic delights to come.
"I sugest then that we begin at the sewer from wher the rats first appeared and attempt to pick up the spoor of the creature somewhere between there and where it was seen by the sewerman, who's name I forget."
As he locks the stock in place with a definate 'Snap!!' he looks towards Wellington, "Unless, of course, you have a better sugestion old boy?"

OOC:   Sorry PapaG jump back in at any time. Just trying to keep things moving.

Klevendon gulps, he is really unsure about this adventure into the sewers. "You have a revolver," he asks Wellington timidly, his back to Miss Bly in case she sees his nerves.

Wellington grins reassuringly and pats Klevendon on the shoulder.

"And I dare say I know how to use it, Klevendon. However, I have every confidence that I shall only have to use it in the most dire of circumstances, giving Lord Roxborough's ample talent."


He speaks up as he walks over to the lardly lord.


"I'd say that the exit point is the place we're least likely to find the beast, given that the rats were trying to get away from it and that we'd be more likely to find some..spoor were we to pick up the habits of our unfortunate sewerage worker. However, in this matter I shall differ to your wisdom and experience in the field."


Wellington lights his pipe and takes a few happy puffs.

Roxborough smiles at the image of the creature, whatever it was, being taken down by a pistol, no matter its calibre. From his vest pocket he produces a rag and begins to lovingly wipe the beast of a double barrelled rifle he has constructed.

"True sir, usually I would agree that the point of exit is wrong. But in this case we know that the rats were fleeing from something, so if we can backtrack the rodents it is possible that they will lead us to a trail of the unknown creature from where we can track it to a place where that trail will pass the position from where the sewer employee observed it on their mission to locate the missing Smalls"

For a few moments his brow furrows in thought, "If however we fail to find a trail to follow from the Fleet Street sewer opening, we can go to that place where the creature was sighted at once"

Roxborough looks at Klevendon and indicates, with a nod of his head, the sewer map, "I believe that the place where the search party saw the creature and the rats exit in Fleet Street were in close proximity"

OOC:   Sorry.. catching up..

Previously Wellington said:   "Excellent work, Klevendon old boy. Now unless Miss Bly wishes to assault Lord Carrington-Fforbes at this particular moment, I would very like to commence upon our hunt and I have little doubt that Lord Roxborough is even more eager to do so."

"Hardly an assault on his Lordship! However, I do think that an interview with him would bear fruit" Or become saleable, there would be a couple of magazines that would pay to publish such an interview, Nellie thinks to herself. "I shall be contacting his secretary at the earliest opportunity to arrange it."

Nellie's eyes goggle as Roxborough proceeds to assemble his monstrous rifle, noticing his eyes seem to light up at the prospect of the hunt.

Nellie listens as Roxborough and Wellington discuss how best to enter the sewers and start to track their quarry.

"Might entering the sewers at Fleet Street draw attention to our endeavour? Especially if one of us is brandishing.." she waves her hand indicating the large hunting rifle. "Would we not also require additional equipment... lanterns and some waders." Nellie looks to her own attire.

"I am sure a dress is unsuitable for the sewers, Miss Bly will have to slip into something less comfortable," says Klevendon, shocked at the very thought of trousers worn by a woman.

OOC:   The baddie from Dirty Harry would say to Roxborough: "My, that's a big one!"

For a few moments Roxborough finds himself salivating over an image of different kind of dish.
"Indeed something more suitable and more practical, may I suggest we pay a visit to the expedition outfitters, Carstairs and Carstairs on Piedmont Street. I have always found them most obliging when equipping for the hunt. I am sure we could make use of this fellows" he indicates the cab which waits at the kerb, "Local knowledge"

OOC:   And as the late Dick Emery would have said, "ooh you are awful..."

"Yes yes, to the outfitters first then."

Wellington sucks his pipe as he boards the carriage.

Nellie boards the carriage, gathering her thoughts ans speaking as they get under way. Looking at Wellington "Do you think it is altogether a good idea to embark on our hunt by obtaining access to the tunnels in Fleet Street, it is altogether quite too public... something of our mission would be bound to find the ears of one of the offices there, we do not wish to give The Star more material to speculate upon, surely?" Nellie asks, addressing everyone but singling out the detective with her gaze.

OOC:   To my mind it's far less risky (from a being observed aspect) to enter the sewers at the Kings Head.

Roxborough glances over to Nellie. For a brief moment his eyes darken with anger, being unused to debates about his area of expertise. But as quick as a flash his eyes twinkle with admiration for the delectable woman.
"Of course you may be right. The sewer entrance to the rear of the King's Head will serve us just as well"

He turns to Klevendon, who still holds the map,
"I am sure if we look we will see that both entrances are easily connected to one another"

And then to no one in particular, as if lost in thought,
"Besides if we access the sewer behind the public house, we may find enough time to sample the delicious cuisine once more"

Klevendon studies the map. "Yes, I believe that the tunnels are connected, Mr. Roxborough," he looks at the others a little cross-eyed. "Now, let's first of all purchase the necessary equipment."

Good, good, that's settled then - to the outfitters and then maybe a little light lunch at the Kings Head before we head down? One really should be fully fuelled before embarking on a hunting trip!

He glances and Nellie and gives her a cheeky grin and wink.