Act II: The King's Head

[Priest]

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"

[DrPeterson]

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?"

[Tabs]

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!"

[Papa Gateau]

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!"

[Priest]

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.

[Papa Gateau]

"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? "

[carnage_lee]

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."

[Priest]

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.

[Papa Gateau]

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?

[Priest]

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...."

[carnage_lee]

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.

[Priest]

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.

[DrPeterson]

"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."

[Tabs]

"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?"

[Priest]

"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.

[Tabs]

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

[DrPeterson]

"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.

[carnage_lee]

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.

[Papa Gateau]

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?

[Priest]

"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?"

"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"