Dragons of London

[Priest]

Scene one:

'A Strange Story'

You find yourselves in a well appointed waiting room at the Natural History Museum awaiting a meeting with one of the Museum’s Senior Curators, Professor James Hawthorne, a person of impeccable qualifications and standing that you have met on previous occasions. You do of course know each other by reputation although not personally.

A hand delivered note had requested your presence at 11 of the clock on the Tuesday morning. But gave no intimation of the nature of meeting other than to say it was of the utmost urgency and may well involve the future of the City of London, if not the entire Empire.

On a small occasional table beside the leather clad chairs upon which you sit, a pile of newspapers wait attention from the professor who waits behind the closed, brass plate bearing door.

Eventually a small ring of a bell indicates that the professor is ready for his guests and you are shown into his office…



“Thank you for attending so quickly,” the professor says warmly, shaking each of you by the hand. “I apologize for not revealing more as to the nature of my summons, but what I have to say should not ... indeed cannot be put to paper.” At this point he looks, pointedly, at Miss Bly as he gestures to comfortable-looking chairs as he takes a seat behind a cluttered desk.

“As you may know, London’s streets are awash with swarms of rats. I feel I may be responsible for this unfortunate plague!” He steeples his hands and pauses as if searching for the best way on how to proceed.

“Last month I was discussing the problems of rats in general found here in London, and their unfortunate nature as disease carriers. I made a passing remark, a jest if you will, to my fellow clubbers that the matter could be easily solved if we could find a basilisk, for rats are greatly afraid of them. Ten days ago, a small box arrived at my office. Inside, snugly secured within a bed of straw, was a large egg upon which was written a single word: basilisk."

“Naturally I was highly suspicious, for as a man of science I put no faith in the tales of the ancients. But curiosity bade me to incubate the egg and see what manner of creature hatched. I ordered my assistant to place the egg in a basement near the museum's boilers and to keep a watchful eye on it.”

“Yesterday I went to check on my assistant’s progress, only to find him dead. And without a mark on him! The egg had hatched, but of the creature within there was no sign. I have spent the time since wondering how best to proceed. The situation is growing worse and talk of a monster is spreading.”

“Just the other day one of my colleagues remarked that he overheard the keeper of the King’s Head Inn telling customers he had seen a monster in his courtyard, and I know for a fact that the story regarding the hansom cab horse is a lie intended to avoid panic.”

“May I count on your services, and your discretion?”

[DrPeterson]

Horatio Wellington got up out of his chair and observed the room and its occupants as he paced slowly to the window. He had expected some triviality to be the case, but had given in none the less, since the name of their host bore some gravity.

He stared out at the London skyline for a moment, before turning around and taking his pipe from his mouth with practised movement.

"I fear, Professor Hawthorne, you may have fallen victim to a very unfortunate trap or attempt at jest on your behalf.
I should like to investigate the box this egg came in and whatever remains of it as well."

Horatio Wellington purposefully walks towards the ornamental globe in the corner of the office and brushes his fingers over it, looking at the gathered dust their.

"However, you can be assured of discretion...and swiftness of action."

"I would ask you why you have contacted such an assorted group of people, and not the constabulary, but I have already surmised that you have given this serious thought." He puts the pipe between his teeth and sucks in some of the fragrant blue smoke.
"You fear the Police would either ridicule you and not look into the case, or that they would indeed do so, but such an inquiry would certainly gather a lot of attention. Either way, the name of the museum would be tarnished and you would not be responsible for that."

[Tabs]

Ms. Nellie Bly leafs desultorily through the "competition" spread out on the occasional table.

When Professor Hawthorne "looks, pointedly" she says in a nasal Yankee twang:

"You can rely on my discretion, sir." As the Professor speaks she flips open a small notebook, licks the nib of a pencil, and begins scribbling. She pauses when the Professor says: "I feel I may be responsible for this unfortunate plague!" and snaps out: "And why is that, Professor Hawthorne?"



Mr. Arthur Cecil Klevendon wanders round the office studying the Professor's books.

"I say, 'rats'?" enquires Mr. Klevendon, who doesn't follow the news. Another statement: "'egg'?

"Surely, sir," says Klevendon to Horatio Wellington, "you give no credit to this Basilisk--a legendary reptile?"

Ms. Bly interjects: "You have the low-down on 'The Vanishing Cabby,' Professor Hawthorne?"

[DrPeterson]

Peter Roxborough calmly remains in his seat with a smug smile on his lips, his mind in another place and he thinks:
A basilisk...that would taste exceedingly well with a picpoul de pinet. The texture would probably be somewhere in between crocodile and tuna and the sharp clear tones of the wine would accentuate the gamy flavours of the dragon...He didn't mind letting the others figure out the who's and why's, he just wanted the creature, what a feast that would make.

[DrPeterson]

Horatio Wellington jabs the air with his pipe in the direction of A. C. Klevendon as he gesticulates.

"My dear man, I discount no creature until I have seen the egg it came from. Act on evidence no supposition."

He sucks his pipe and looks to Professor Hawthorne.

"I should also like to see the boiler room and the remains of your assistant, Professor Hawthorne."

[Tabs]

Nellie watches Peter Roxborough. "Is he salivating?" thinks Nellie.

"My dear man, I discount no creature until I have seen the egg it came from. Act on evidence no supposition."

Klevendon emits an explosive, derisive, chortle.

[DrPeterson]

H. G. Wellington raises a dismissive eyebrow at the sound emitted by his colleague and mouths his pipe again, eagerly savouring the smoke.


"Far be it from me to stop you from solving this case entirely relying on your preconceptions, Mr. Klevendon, but I for one would like to inspect the potential evidence before theorising any approaches to a resolution of the mystery."

He takes a few more puffs and gives his friend an amused smile.

"You should know by now that my method is based on studying the minutiae and that the solving of the puzzle is oft-times hidden in the details of the challenge itself."

[Priest]

"You fear the Police would either ridicule you and not look into the case, or that they would indeed do so, but such an inquiry would certainly gather a lot of attention. Either way, the name of the museum would be tarnished and you would not be responsible for that."

At Horatio Wellingtons’s words the Professor had blanched, no doubt stung by some accusation he felt hidden within.
“Indeed sir - indeed, involvement of the constabulary would. I fear tarnish the reputation of this world renowned museum. A reputation which I have endeavoured to uphold since being appointed one of its senior curators.”

""I fear, Professor Hawthorne, you may have fallen victim to a very unfortunate trap or attempt at jest on your behalf. I should like to investigate the box this egg came in and whatever remains of it as well.

“Ah yes the box. I did of course keep the packaging, although I confess it mislaid.” He picks up a small ornately inlaid brass bell which he rings. You recognise the gentle melodic tone as that you had heard earlier. “Martha, Martha, have you seen that blasted box that contained the mysterious egg? Mr Wellington would care to examine it” She shakes her head and departs in search of it.

She pauses when the Professor says: "I feel I may be responsible for this unfortunate plague!" and snaps out: "And why is that, Professor Hawthorne?"

At this point he looks towards the female reporter, “And it is for this reason my dear young lady that I fear I may be responsible for the plague that is now affecting the capital. For if it is a Basilisk, and it has fled to the sewers it may be the reason for the sudden surge in the rat population plaguing the streets. For it is said that the rat was a delicacy of the young of the Basilisk.” As he ends his speech he reddens slightly, probably from fear that his words may cast a shadow on his scientific credentials.

As if in a haste to draw attention away from his fears over some mythological creatures appearance in a London that stands at the pinnacle of scientific endeavour, he turns back to Horatio Wellington, “You ask why I chose to seek aid from the four of you. The answer is quite simple, you sir are said to be one of best detectives in London, so if we are to ascertain the truth behind this event I feel that you are most able to pierce any fog of mystery and shine the lamp of reason upon this situation.”

“While you sir” he now looks towards the splendidly outfitted Peter Roxborough, noting the keenness of his eye and the tell-tale paunch of a true gastronome “Are considered by many to be one of the finest hunters of exotic fauna that this nation has produced. If this creature, whatever it may be, has indeed as I fear fled into the sewers I am sure there are few that could hunt it down with such little fuss as you sir.”

“Miss Bly… Why should I wish to involve a member of the press, when it is publicity that I most fear? Well that is where your reputation does you great service. Not for you the cheap sensationalism that mars many within the ranks of your profession, rather a guiding desire for truth, justice, and if I may say so, the American dream. Thus if this story must be reported in the press, one would wish it to be reported truthfully without the sensationalist slant that many gentlemen of the press would add.”

“Finally your good self Mr Klevendon, as an antiquarian of some reputation there is little chance that a hoaxer would be able to fool you with a disguised bird egg, no matter how cunning the obfuscation. If, and I hasten to add if, the creature is indeed a Basilisk, and heaven knows with all the new species of creature that are constantly being found in recent expeditions to newly discovered lands it is within the realms of feasibility if not probability, I feel that your good self may be in a position to identify it scientifically and determine its place of origin.”

"Surely, sir," says Klevendon to Horatio Wellington, "you give no credit to this Basilisk--a legendary reptile?"

Hawthorne interjects,
“As a man of science, I doubt that that any creature can kill by simply staring at its prey ... yet I have seen Simon’s body and can deduce no other logical explanation. Perhaps the myths are based on truth. The fact that we have never found a basilisk does not preclude their existence, after all.”

Ms. Bly interjects: "You have the low-down on 'The Vanishing Cabby,' Professor Hawthorne?"

In answer to Miss Bly’s question, Hawthorne turns in his seat, smiles as one would to an inquiring child and replies,
“The ‘low-down’ how quaint, an Americanism I presume? A colleague of mine at the Zoological Gardens told me in passing. Apparently the beast was taken there for examination. If you want I can pen a letter to Professor Atwood informing him you are assisting me with something. I am sure he would grant you access to the carcass.
It would appear that a certain Jacobs, landlord of the King’s Head Inn some half a mile from here has been telling all and sundry about having seen a monster in his yard. However I am not particular to all the details, but it would seem that the newspaper article was concocted to avoid unnecessary panic”

"I should also like to see the boiler room and the remains of your assistant, Professor Hawthorne."

Hawthorne, a sad caste overcoming his face, replies,
“Indeed sir, I anticipated that you might… Ah, yes, poor Simon Higgins… Not wishing to involve the constabulary, for obvious reasons, I put the body into one of our chilled storage areas to stave off decomposition until I decided how to proceed. He’s downstairs if you wish to examine him. The egg, or the remnants, is still within the basement where young Higgins met his end."

[DrPeterson]

Mr. Wellington has sat down during the professor's explanation, but now he veers up again, pocketing his pipe.

"Then we should head down to the boiler room at once! Mr. Higgins will have to wait until we have examined the egg and its surroundings. "

The detective starts heading for the door. He stops halfway there and turns around.

"Professor, would I be mistaken in assuming you have some knowledge of the science of palaeontology?"

Peter Roxborough had drifted back into the conversation at the mention of his name and nodded vigorously at the compliments, remarking:
"There's no creature of this Earth that a Roxborough can not overcome, Professor, no need to worry, your problem is virtually solved."

[Tabs]

The fact that we have never found a basilisk does not preclude their existence, after all.”

"I suppose so," thinks a bemused Klevendon. He says: "Regarding the shell, I believe I may be able to conclude if it is an ostrich or the like."

[Priest]

"The detective starts heading for the door. He stops halfway there and turns around.
"Professor, would I be mistaken in assuming you have some knowledge of the science of palaeontology?

Hawthorne looks bemused at the question,
"Indeed sir you would be right", he gesture at the many books neatly shelved around the room which had so occupied Klevenden's attention. "And may I ask your point sir?"
Pushing his chair back from his desk, he produces a set of keys on a chain from his pocket and proceeds to unlock one of the desk's many drawers. A few seconds of rumaging later and he triumphantly waves a key for inspection. "The key to the basement, Shall we?"

[DrPeterson]

"There is no point to deliver yet, Professor Hawthorne, but I assure you that your case has greatly piqued my interest."

Horatio Wellington smiles and indicates the door, allowing the professor to lead the way.

[Tabs]

Klevendon, unsure what to make of the odd situation, peers over the steel rim of his glasses, "Mr. Wellington, it will be a pleasure to watch you work--'studying the minutiae,' and so forth."

[carnage_lee]

Quickly adjusting her skirts Nelli sat, leaning forward slightly and listened to the explanation of why she and the others had been summoned.

As Professor Hawthorne started his explanation Nellie started writing in her notebook; quickly making notes and observations in shorthand, her pen making faint scratching noises as it danced across the page. Looking up and smiling at the Professor as he paused, encouraging him to continue.

She smiled, her clear blue eyes seemed to gleam with the sentiment behind Professor Hawthorne's characterisation of her journalistic skills and integrity; She would only report the truth, not sensational overblown stories, something that had put her at odds with more than one Editor.

As Nellie sketched out the tale as told by the Professor she also made notes about the other guests, quite an esoteric gathering - she idly wondered if there would be enough time for a few interviews. It would be quite the coup to be able to write an interest piece on the notoriously aloof H.G. Wellington and placing articles about the colourful, exciting hunts that Roxborough must have been involved in, or indeed whatever theories Arthur Klevendon held dear shouldn't be hard to place either.

The Professors tale seems straightforward if a little far-fetched; juist because the egg has the word 'Basilisk' written on it didn't meant that the contents matched the label. Why, it was obvious that the egg was from someone at the club where the Professor made his comments about his fanciful ideas on vermin control. It was also logical to assume that it was sent as some kind of prank, after all if a Basilisk did exist and had a voracious appetite for rat then surely every city in the Empire would have them! Far more likely a prank intended to embarrass the Professor. Perhaps he egg contained some serpent, that might explain the death of the assistant, Higgins - perhaps it bit him, then slithered off to some dark warm corner. Nellie shivered, imagining a black scaled snake slithering away from the poor unfortunate Higgins' body.

The questions and interjections of the other guests brought her out of her musings and she focused her attention back into the well appointed Professor's office. Listening intently as the renowned detective focuses on the egg and the basement... while other points in the Professor's tale pique her interest.

"Why thank you Professor a letter to your colleague at the Zoological Gardens would be most welcome indeed." Smiling inwardly at this opportunity, here was a mystery that she could set her teeth into.

The Professor fishes in his draw and produces a set of keys and it seems the detective is set on leaving the office. Nellie frowns glancing over her notes.

"Sorry, Mr Wellington, Professor but before we explore the museums basement can we clear a couple of points up?"

Without a pause she carries on, she has some questions and observations and wants to air them before the suddenly animated Detective builds up a head of steam and the moment is lost.

"Just quickly, if you will.... " Nellie flashed one of her best disarming smiles, "You received the egg ten days ago, decided to hatch it, yesterday you discovered your assistant dead, that was yesterday. So if we allow ourselves to believe that it was indeed a Basilisk that had hatched... hatched and somehow dispatched your assistant and then, as you say entered the sewers." Nellie pauses to make sure that all agree with her summation.

"Then, how do you manage to equate these occurrences with the plague of rats in the streets? The Basilisk, if that is what it is has only been abroad for a day, two at the most." Nellie scans her companions and host, to see their reactions.

"Or, is there something else you've not mentioned, Professor?" Nellie asks in her smooth contralto tones, with a frown of puzzled questioning of her face.

[Priest]

"Just quickly, if you will.... " Nellie flashed one of her best disarming smiles, "You received the egg ten days ago, decided to hatch it, yesterday you discovered your assistant dead, that was yesterday. So if we allow ourselves to believe that it was indeed a Basilisk that had hatched... hatched and somehow dispatched your assistant and then, as you say entered the sewers." Nellie pauses to make sure that all agree with her summation.

"Then, how do you manage to equate these occurrences with the plague of rats in the streets? The Basilisk, if that is what it is has only been abroad for a day, two at the most." Nellie scans her companions and host, to see their reactions.

"Or, is there something else you've not mentioned, Professor?" Nellie asks in her smooth contralto tones, with a frown of puzzled questioning of her face.

With a sigh the professor settles into his chair once more and once again steeples his fingers atop his leather covered desk,
“My dear young lady, I can assure you that no attempt to deceive on my part is intended. The events are exactly as I have related. The appearance of the rodent plague on the streets within such a short time of the egg’s hatching, has puzzled me. But if indeed it is a Basilisk, although as I said earlier as a man of science I am extremely dubious as to that creatures existence, who would know the speed at which it grows? The Basilisk is a creature of mythology so mayhap it grows at some mythical pace.”

He smiles, “Excellent your questions point to a most analytical mind. Between the four of you I have little doubt that this mystery will soon be cleared up”

He places his hands flat upon the desk and begins to lift himself from the chair, “Have you any further questions, or shall we proceed to the basement?”

[carnage_lee]

Nellie listens to the Professor, he seems genuine in his beliefs as far as she can tell; however Nellie struggles with the idea of a Basilisk loose in the sewers of London; something had caused the 'rat-plague' but she'd be willing to bet on a more mundane reason.

“Thank you Professor ” she says warmly, snapping the cap back over her pen and putting the note-book back into her bag. Feeling about and deftly drawing out her pride and joy, a Whitman & Purvis Steriographic Lithograph Camera. “I'll be pleased to capture any photographic evidence of the scene in the basement that you require Mr. Wellington." Nellie says brightly in way of apology for holding the detective back from his investigation. She stands and indicates with a wave of her hand that the Professor should carry on.

[Priest]

Professor Hawthorne leads the way from his office, stopping at his secretary’s desk to ascertain if she had found the missing box which the egg had arrived in. It seemed she had not but was confident of its imminent discovery.

Leaving her with instruction to write a letter of introduction to Professor Atwood at the Zoological Gardens, the professor leads the way down to the basement. The door to which stands at the very bottom of the buildings staircase.

The preponderance of dust and cobwebs attest to the infrequency of visitors.

With a flourish the professor produces the key and inserts it in the lock. With a grinding sound of disuse the key turns. The professor, his task accomplished, steps back. “Gentlemen, and Miss Bly of course, the basement where poor Simon met his demise”

OOC: Please look to your Character Sheets and if you wish at any time to employ a skill please advise me and we’ll run through it.

[carnage_lee]

While waiting for the others to pass into the basement Nellie peers intently at the basement door and frame; trying to see if anything is out of place or odd about it.

[DrPeterson]

"I thank you for your kind offer, Miss Bly, but I think I shall have better use of your cognitive abilities than your photographic ones.".
Horatio George Wellington offers the young woman a smile and steps into the room, his investigative senses peaked and rearing to be set at work. Before turning up the gas light, he takes a deep breath, trying to smell any unusual scents, after which he turns the light up and produces a magnifying lens from his coat pocket and starts looking around the room, specifically at where the egg was supposedly hatched, where Higgins's body was found and through what means the creature could have escaped the room.

OOC: I would like to use my Perception skill and my investigation skill, Crimes speciality if applicable.


Peter Roxborough harrumphs loudly as the detective enters the room and adds:
"If you'd be so kind as to not stamp out all the tracks, I'd be much obliged, Mr. Wellington!"

He politely tries to move past Mss Bly , "Begging your pardon, Miss", and will look for anything that could indicate the passage of an animal in the room.

[Priest]

The basement of the building has been locked since the professor had removed the body of his assistant and it is noticeable how warm it is down here. No doubt this is due to the buildings boiler being in close proximity, probably the reason that the egg was brought here to incubate.

Apart from dust, cobwebs, and various bits and pieces, close to a steam pipe which runs from the boiler for a few feet before turning sharply toward the ceiling are located the shattered remains of an egg shell lie atop a nest of straw.

No more than four feet from the nest an iron grating can be seen in the flooring. It has been partially covered by an old tarpaulin.
“It was over there between the nest and the grating that I found poor Simon” says the professor pointing from outside the room.

OOC: Please indicate where and how you wish to use your investigation skills, also dont forget Roxborough's skills