The Prologue

[Cearlan]

Ah oh to be in Providence in September in Providence ah the blissful Autumnal mornings that gradually give way to colder, days before the onset of the Winter snows. For most people Monday 11th October 1926 was an uneventful, if slightly overcast day. The trees were typically resplendent in their autumn colouring caused as changes in tree leaves are triggered by the cooler temperatures, changes in rainfall and weather, and most of all, the shortening of daylight hours. As people file quickly through the Van Wickle gates on their way to lectures or other appointments.

Van Wickel Gates,http://s255.beta.photobucket.com/user/Cearlan/media/Spawn%20of%20Azathoth/vanwicklegates_zps39f088f1.png.html

It was a normal day, typical of any given Monday; but for David Johnson, PhD - Professor of Archaeology at Brown University it marked the return of his close friend, Martin Sorrell, the epigrapher who had worked with him on several previous digs. He had been on a four month field trip to British Honduras where he had apparently uncovered a Mayan complex. Sorrell has plans to return later in the year, but needs to gather funding, surely a mere formality considering the initial finds that were apparently uncovered. Tomorrow Sorrell will be attending the Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology at 2:00 PM sharp, as he always is, to give his initial findings and report to Otis Randall, the dean along with the other deans such as Kenneth Mason, Dean of Freshen; and the increasingly ill Karl Barus and other interested professors. David had no lectures today and despite being anxious to see his friend, he knew Martin would not be available until tomorrow at the earliest, so he reluctantly decided to catch up on the mountain of paperwork in his office. As he approached the gates he noticed a fairly large man with greasy hair approach the gates at the same time. He had seen him a few times before and presumed he worked on campus somewhere.

For Mark Davison, it was another chapter in the endless stream of trying to better himself only to be hauled back in by the police for another robbery he had not committed. He knew he had not committed this latest one as he was in fact out of town committing a different crime - helping running booze across from the Caribbean, but obviously he was not going to own up to that thanks to Volstead. Fortunately he had a benefactor that stood bail for him. That Philip Baxter kept faith with him and was prepared to stand by him, that he could see something in Mark was sometimes a bit unsettling, but it helped to stoke his desires to study harder, at least for a while. When he stood bail for him last Friday, he had promised that he would redouble his efforts at studying history ... something he found all too easy to do as he loved it. As he approached the gates he saw one of them snotty nosed professor types looking down his nose at him ... not like Prof Baxter at all. He sped up to get through the gate ahead of him as he headed towards the library.

Merideth Jones, the Welsh imigrant working at Brown University in the Ancient History department, having attained his PhD at the prestigious Cambridge University, with even two or three items he found on digs in the Cambridge University Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology's second floor Maudslay Gallery. swaggered onto the campus in his tweed jacket and immaculate bow tie. Like David Johnson, he knew Martin Sorrell, more by reputation than socially, though they had met several times. He always found Sorrell to be both knowledgeable and sociable. He too knows that Sorrell will be on-campus next Monday to give his initial findings and report. But for today, he had a lecture to give on one of his favourite peoples - the Phoenicians and their trading routes.

Joseph Huckleberry was dropped off by the gates and waited until the rush died down a bit before going through himself. The medical library he was researching in this morning was going to be quiet so he still had a little time to get to there in time. His immaculately parted hair was uncovered as the air was still not cold enough to require wrapping up. He looked up and saw that his fathers friend, Philip Baxter was going through the gates just ahead of him. Joseph shared a few cordial words with Baxter before he excused himself due to having to attend a meeting with the dean of his faculty. They parted with a promise to arrange dinner soon and they went their separate ways.

[Priest]

Professor Meredith David Arthur Jones Phd lecturer in Ancient History arms filled with various copies of learned manuscripts in readiness for his forthcoming lecture, stumbles almost dropping his precious load. Looking down he can see that the lace on his left boot had sucumbed to age and wear, its frayed remains becoming a danger to his existence.
"Damn and blood" he half mumbled to himself, eyes flicking left and right for a convenient place to rest the books and effect repairs.

[Cearlan]

After the lecture, as Merideth David Arthur Jones PhD is collecting his notes together he sees an older man approaching him from the back of the lecture hall, He had seen him enter the hall about two thirds of the way through and sit quietly in the shadows at the back. But you were in mid flow and the lecture was going well with more interaction from the students than normal.

"Professor Jones is it? I am Professor Baxter from the Archaeology department." He smiles and extends his hand;



"That was a very good lecture by the way, you obviously know a lot, and care a lot about the subject if I am not mistaken. What is more you had the attention and enthusiasm of the students ... that most elusive of mixtures that even the best of us fail to grasp more often than not eh? With this in mind I'd like to invite you to dinner on Wednesday night if you are free. 711 Houster Street, at say seven o'clock? We can talk about young Sorrell's return, I have a feeling you may be an interested party.


Having just finished his research at the University Library, Joseph Huckleberry started to head for the exit when he heard someone call his voice. Turning he saw Philip Baxter striding towards him purposefully. Joseph, you know we agreed to arrange dinner sometime soon, how about Wednesday night if you are free? 211 Houster Street. I am having some fine minds for dinner and wondered if you could attend. We are to discuss the return of one of our young epigraphers from British Honduras


Sitting in the library, Mark Davison is deep in his reading about the wars between Britain and Spain for control of the Yucatan Peninsula when he is suddenly aware that his friend, Professor Baxter is sitting opposite him smiling. "Ah Mark, it gladdens my heart to see you pursuing your muse. May I?" he asks holding out his hand. When you hand him the book, he snorts and twists his face slightly. "Pretentious nonsense and self aggrandisement for the whole but some of his conclusions are sound enough, if not the way he reached them. Sadly one of our former students, though he took the path of fame and fortune over fact. How are you finding it?" he asks as he hands the book back to you, an erstwhile look on his face. "I would like to invite you for dinner at my house on Wednesday night at 7 o'clock if you are not busy. 711 Houster Street. One of our young men has just returned from British Honduras and I think that you might be interested in the discussion that me and a few colleagues will have after dinner.


A knock at his door brought Dr David Johnson back from his reverie. He had a difficult choice to make, one of his students was really struggling with the material, but refused all efforts of assistance - how could he draw the young man's undoubted intellect out. For the last twenty minutes he had been gazing out of his window across the campus square and when he had heard the knock, he saw, with a start, his mentor and friend Philip Baxter standing in the doorway. "Hello there David, you were in a world of your own there." he chortles to himself. "I would like you to come to my house on Wednesday night to discuss young Sorrell's return, 711 Houster Street, but you know this already. We want to discuss young Sorrell's return today"

[Mr. Handy]

"It's good to see you, Philip," says David, coming to his senses and rising to his feet. "I'd be delighted to come. I'm definitely looking forward to Sorrell's return. I can't wait to hear about his discoveries!"

[royya]

Thank you Professor Baxter, It will be my pleasure to dine with you and your colleagues. I will arrive at time.
Thought, he is not an Archaeologist, Joseph wonders why he was summoned to this meeting, perhaps his medicine skills are needed to identify mummies ??
that would be great ...
Jospeh thinks to himself as he walks back home with a bundle of new reading books under his arm.

[Priest]

Meredith quickly scoops his notes into a pile and secures them, just, beneath his left arm. He extends his right hand in a warm grasp to Professor Baxter,

"Why thank you, I shall be pleased to attend"

[Garrett]

"Well I'm not one to turn down a free meal. Lets just hope I can follow the conversation." Mark says releasing a short laugh, in truth he was a bit worried, he didn't really think he'd fit in with the Professors friends.

[Cearlan]

At the appointed hour the guests start to arrive at his house, 711 Houster Street, a well appointed three bedroom clapboard style house painted in a light blue colour. As you knock on the door you are greeted by a short plump woman of obvious Italian descent aged about her mid fifties, but she carries the air about her of someone who could in truth be anywhere between forty and seventy.



"Please to come in. Mr. Philip is in the library if you would follow me kindly" Her accent is soothing as she takes your coat and hat (if worn) and hangs it up under the stairs before she leads you through to the study where you host for the evening stands in front of the fire. Baxter’s large study has a wall of shelves containing numerous books. Many of which have paper slips acting as place-markers. the room is dominated by a huge desk and several comfortable chairs scattered around the room. A fire burns in the grate and the smell of apple-wood permeates the air giving the room a cosy and comfortable air.

Philip Baxter offers you a drink whilst his housekeeper excuses herself to carry on with the preparation of the meal, muttering to herself in Italian as she departs.

OOC,I'll assume everyone is present rather than roleplay greetings and so forth.

Once everyone has arrived, Professor Baxter makes introductions to one another, and ushers everyone into the dining room. Throughout the meal small talk about your lives and what you do seems to be the order of the day.

Philip says "Mark here is a bit of a dark horse at History Meredith, though his interests seem to be a bit more modern than yours. You See Mark, Meredith here is an expert in Ancient History, concentrating mainly on ... where was it again Meredith?"

"Joseph, David here is in the same field as myself, and I believe one of your patients, though probably one you have never seen as he is a lot fitter," he adds with a laugh "than I was at his age."

Baxter is an excellent host, ensuring that everyone is involved in good conversation with each other. The meal is classic Italian, a starter of Bruschetta followed by Baked Ziti and Tiramisu, all very generous portions and cooked and prepared to perfection.

After the meal you are ushered through to the study once more where glasses are recharged and you all take seats around the fire finishing off the small talk from the table.

Baxter stands up and taps his glass with his letter opener.

"Gentlemen, I called you here to discuss the return of young Sorrell from British Honduras. He had unearthed a Mayan complex according to the reports he sent back periodically, and by all accounts this could turn out to be a major find. Some of you may know that Sorrell was on the ill fated Bowery expedition almost nine years ago now. Weren't you on that dig David, the one near Kate's Lagoon? Damned drug lords and their infernal meddling."

"Back to the present though. Sorrell arrived back at Brown University early, Saturday I believe, and met with the Dean. Now I met with the dean on Monday morning who informed me that Sorrell is missing. Or rather he is not, and there lies the problem. Please allow me to explain."

“For the last three years, Sorrell has directed successive excavations in northern British Honduras. Twelve days ago, the University received a telegram from Sorrell informing us that he was returning to British Honduras to take care of some personal business. He had been researching a new book about the emergence of Mayan civilization. A week ago, he made a startling call to the University. He said he’d made an incredible discovery that verified all of the research for his new book. We got another telegram five days ago telling me that he was coming home. On his way from the ship, Martin was hit by a car. He did not die immediately, though at the hospital, the medical staff made a startling and puzzling discovery."

“You see, the blood coming out of his body was not Martin Sorrell's. The blood type matched, but there was a problem in the serum. He had caught malaria while in the field a few years back. Malaria is a chronic disease. You never quite shake it off. This information showed up in his records, but no trace of malaria or malarial antibodies existed in his blood. Two hours after the accident, the man carrying Martin Sorrell's passport died and was promptly cremated, apparently because of a clerical error. By the time I had been informed, it was too late to verify anything. But either Martin Sorrell had found a cure for malaria in the swamps of Belize, or the man who died was not Martin Sorrell!"

“Interestingly enough, that same night the police were dispatched to Sorrell's home here in Providence. A neighbour had reported a prowler moving about inside. The police found no prowler and no signs of a break-in, yet the house was a mess, as if someone had ransacked it. Coincidence? Unlikely. So, where is Martin Sorrell? Who is the mysterious stranger who died in his place? What was the incredible discovery that so excited him? Did his discovery have something to do with his disappearance? Finally, what were parties unknown looking for in his house that night? These are the questions I want you to answer."

“The dean and I want want to know what happened to Martin and, if there was foul play, I want the perpetrators brought to justice. You have full autonomy in this investigation. I have no wish to interfere with your methods. I expect periodic verbal or written reports. If you need something, contact me or the Dean if I am not available. Good luck, all of you, and good hunting.” Baxter asks for questions.

[Mr. Handy]

"That is disturbing news," says David, concerned deeply for his friend and colleague. "Martin and I have been through a lot together. But I have a feeling that he is still alive. If the dead man did not have antibodies for malaria, it couldn't have been him. Even if he found a cure for it, he should still have the antibodies in his system." He turns to Joseph Huckleberry. "You're a medical student, and you know more about that field than I do. Would you agree?"

[Priest]

"Umm, interesting". Meredith produces his much used, and loved, pipe, waves it at Professor Baxter, "Do you mind?", he asks as he begins to fill it with a dark mixture of tobacco.
"if you don't mind me asking, why us?"

[Cearlan]

"Please Meredith - continue." Baxter says gravely before adding, "As to why you as individuals that is easy." Baxter pauses as though in thought.

"David is a Archaeologist specialising in the Mayans and there are few who know more in that very obscure field - other than maybe Sorrell himself. Joseph, as you have already quite rightly pointed out is a masters medical student and as this situation could require you calling on his ... ah, specialities shall I say, especially if the drug pedlars are still involved. My friend Mark here has a fine enquiring mind with a particular historical bent and I think an investigation like this could also make use of his rather unique skills. Finally there is you Meredith. The precise analytical mind, the intuitive grasp of facts and being able to correlate them whilst not being tied down to this region," looking over at David he continues "Sorry David, no slight intended but the dean felt a slightly different approach coupled with yours may be advantageous for a speedy resolution. I will add that one of my students will be going along with you, Not sure if you know Sarah Hawkins David, but I can highly recommend her. The dean has also 'persuaded' an epigrapher to join with you - a certain Emanuel Goldberg who some of you may have heard of. Of course the notion that we employ outsiders to look into this could only bring bad publicity on the University, and so between the dean and I, we came up with you four as the best possible choices.

[Garrett]

"I honestly don't know how much help I'd be, but I'm glad to try." Joseph says aloud, hoping that one of these braniacs would know where to start.

[Cearlan]

"Bravo - spoken just like your father Joseph. You know that you remind me of him like he was when I first met him" Baxter retorts with a wide grin on his face

[Priest]

Having successfuly packed his pipe Meredith looks around in search of a light, "So, gentlemen what is our first move" He had a feeling he might enjoy this little escapade.

[Mr. Handy]

"Thank you, Philip," says David. "I for one welcome all the help we can get. I think our first order of business should be to go to the hospital and speak to the medical staff who treated the man with Martin's passport. Do you know their names? Were any photographs taken of him, before or after he died? We could see how much he looked like Martin. Failing that, we'd have to get a description from the medical staff."

[tormsen]

Sarah Hawkins worked late as a typist to make ends meet, so she had regretfully declined the invitation to dinner. He was insistent she join the others for a discussion when she arrived, however. He had told her about young Mr Sorrell, and told her he was recommending her to be his eyes and ears on the investigation. It was perhaps later than was appropriate for a young lady to be paying calls, but her relationship with Professor Baxter was widely known and unlikely to cause scandal. She knocked on the door, with some mild apprehension about the reception from the housekeeper.

[Cearlan]

The door is opened by Baxter's housekeeper



"Si?" asks the robust woman as she opens the door to the young lady ... "Ah you must be the Miss Hawkins Yes? let me take your coat and show you through to the study where the men are meeting. Mr Philip told me you were coming here after the dinner - would you like some food? There is plenty left if you do." She hangs up your coat under the stairs. If you want some food she will take you through the back and give you Bruschetta followed by Baked Ziti and Tiramisu. She then shows you through to the study where the four men and Professor Baxter look towards you as you are shown in by Mrs Vincenzo



Philip Baxter




Joseph Huckleberry




Meredith Jones




David Johnson




Sarah Hawkins

[tormsen]

While Sarah was indeed hungry, she did not want to go into the back and eat alone while the menfolk discussed interesting and serious matters in the study. "Thank you, but no, I had something before," she said to the housekeeper, smiling. As she is led into the study, she cutseyed to the Professor and the other guests. "A pleasure to meet you all." If offered a seat, she demurs, saying "I have been sitting down all day reading and typing, I feel I need to spend some time standing." She stands in a discreet part of the room near the Professor where she can view each participant clearly. Remembering what Goethe wrote about the spiritual gestures of the fourth post-Atlantean age, she puts her physical hands behind her back and imagines her etheric hands crossing in the front, an gesture of reverence for those present.

[Cearlan]

"Ah Gentlemen, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing Miss Sarah Hawkins." Professor Baxter indicates each gentleman as he introduces them, "Professor Meredith Jones, from our august Ancient History Department, Soon to be Doctor Joseph Huckleberry, Mark Davison, a freelance history student and Professor David Johnson from our very own archaeology department. Please Miss Hawkins, or would you prefer Sarah? please do take a seat, it would never do to have a lady stand when we are all seated."

OOC,[color=#FF4000]If Sarah still does not want to sit down then he will not pursue the matter further.[/color]

[tormsen]

Sarah thought to be coy for a moment, as was her usual way of dealing with the Professor. But suddenly the thought of her standing while the men sat and conversed reminded her of a house slave standing to attention. She pushed such thoughts away, and took her seat. She smiled and nodded at Mr Huckleberry and Mr Davison in turn, and then smiled at the two professors.

"Professor Jones, I read some of your works on the pre-Roman Celtic civilization. It is very interesting. I have some interest in the Druidic tradition of that era, before the Judaic religions invaded Europe.

"And Professor Jones, I have read your papers as well. You can count me as a believer in pre-Columbian Phoenician contact in the Americas. It seems to me unlikely that the Mayan Indians could have developed civilization on their own."