'The Strangeness of Hezekiah Mason' - chpt 1

[Priest]

'The Strageness of Hezekiah Mason'

Chapter 1 - An event.

OOC:   We begin our tale in media res and in honour of Apocalypse World's first, and possibly, most important Principle 'Play to find out what happens'.

Our tale had started some two days ago with a funeral. That of one of the nation’s most underated, although in some people’s opinions overated, talents of the century, Hezekiah Mason, much hated, rarely liked, yet seldom ignored, who had at the age of 83 finally succumbed to the relentless tread of age, and gone to whichever destination awaited him.

The funeral had been perfect for a man who had snubbed his nose at the religious norms of polite society with his opera ‘Lucifers Claw’, play ‘The cage’ and his many other minor works both on paper and stage that focused on perhaps the darker aspect of human nature and the eternal conflict between good and evil. It had rained, a steady, cold, dismal, November rain that swept in from the north accompanied by a chill wind that denied the few mourners even the small comfort of an umbrella. Weather conditions that had turned a graveside rendition of ‘Shall we gather...’ from a mournful dirge to something akin to a dancehall song in the attendees haste to be gone from that cold, wet cemetery.

Now here you are again. The rain has stopped, thankfully, although the ground away from the gravelled pathways squelches and slurps with every footstep. If in daylight this place had looked a miserable spot to have to wait for the judgement call, at this time of the night, with the moon and stars hidden behind scudding cloud it looked positively awful. You can’t help but notice how Harry Blake, the author chap, keeps looking nervously about as if in expectation of seeing some spirit materialise before him – too vivid an imagination perhaps? Although to be fair to him he had joined this enterprise with all the enthusiasm of a schoolboy on an adventure.

There it is, the still fresh if damp mound of earth that marks the final resting place of Hezekiah Mason. Somewhere below that pile of mud and slime lies the coffin that you had watched lowered into the ground two days back, and within that coffin, beside a decaying corpse, is the thing for which you have risked so much…

What is it you seek?
What do you do?

OOC:   Please use the OOC section for any character discussion, as to what or how you move on. This section should only be for narrative.

[Supercape]

Harry stroked his beard, feeling the urge to light up. He had left his pipe at the guest house, probably because scurrying out of the guest house in the middle of the night would be something that Mrs Butterfield would *tut* at, and probably burn his eggs for breakfast in the morning.

Knowing Mrs Butterfields' ears, he imagined that she would have heard him anywhere. The damn woman ran a superb guest house, but had a habit of tutting and going to Church with a zeal that Harry found unwholesome.

He recalled the last letter he had received from the mysterious Hezekiah Mason. He would not say they were close, but they had met a few times and exchanged a few words and letters. Harry was more of a gutter author, churning out cheap but well liked horror novels. But despite this, he was a great big fat affable man, who just got on with people. Including Hezekiah Mason.

"Beyond the Veil of Perception". That was what Hezekiah had alluded to. Harry had no idea if it was an opera, a poem, a play, or just a mad rambling. But he knew he wanted it.

And as far as he could determine, it was buried with Hezekiah Mason, sewn into his Jacket.

He would need a spade. And ideally a man fitter than he to use it. And ideally a lack of witnesses.

He needed a gravedigger. A gravedigger who would do some dishonest work for honest sterling in the middle of the night. And it was time to find one. Harry walked, stumbling with excitement, towards that very man...

[Mr. Handy]

Anne Dewar arrives at the cemetery on foot, only to find that a man has already gotten here ahead of her. In the darkness, she cannot identify him. Is he here for the dagger? she wonders. She isn't sure what she should do. Confronting him could be dangerous, but she cannot allow him to take the dagger. Still, he hasn't tried to dig up the grave yet. Biding her time, she watches from behind a tree to see what he will do next.

[carnage_lee]

Tommy Stone

Tommy was glad that the rain had finally stopped, his work this night was foul enough without getting sodden while he was about his macabre task. As he pulled up a short distance from the cometary gates, his car rattling and wheezing as if in protest at being driven about at this hour. He pondered the events that had led him here at this time, true he needed t he work but this was a far cry from his usual cases; the promised pay-off was almost treble his normal fee, and for one day or rather night's work.

Stepping out of his car and cursing under his breath as his foot splashed into a puddle.. 'perhaps I ought to have asked for half up front' he says to himself, shaking his foot to clear any water, he can feel his toes are wet and makes a note to buy some nice new shoes after he gets paid. He imagines counting the money after handing over Mason's signet ring... too bad that to get it he would have to become a 'grave-robber'. If only his car hadn't broken down earlier in the day, the delay meant that Mason's body had already been interred before he arrived, missing the chance to retrieve the ring from the body whilst paying his respects.

Taking a long handled spade from the boot of his car he marches back towards the cemetery gates, avoiding the puddles where he can.

In the gloom ahead he makes out a shape... amongst the grave markers, someone else is here in the cemetery!

Tommy lets out a curse under his breath, he should have been more careful and looks about for somewhere to secret himself and hopefully remain hidden.

His heart heart sinks as the shape turns and starts to make it's way towards him, the shape is revealed to be a man as the figure steps onto the path, something of the man's features seem familiar... someone from the funeral perhaps.

Tipping the brim of his hat back with a forefinger Tommy waits to see what this man wants..

[Mr. Handy]

Anne observes the new arrival approach the other man. This one has a shovel! she thinks. They must be in this together! They're going to dig up the dagger! When I made Hezekiah Mason my last best offer to buy it, he told me he wouldn't sell it at any price, and he vowed to take it to his grave. He must have meant that literally! But what can I do? I can't possibly stop two men all by myself...I'd better keep watching them, wait for an opportunity. I don't really have anything to dig up the grave, nor the strength. I'm better off letting them do the work.

[CrackheadC.]

Rebecca Conners trudges up to the cemetery, camera in hand and shovel on her back. "This is my chance at the big times," she thought. She had spent much of the day planning her excursion, over a light lunch of pea soup and bread she had finally decided. "I need to dig him up for proof."

Rebecca had been a small-time journalist at a tabloid rag. She interviewed some people who thought their house was haunted, wrote a couple penny-dreadful-esque stories, and wrote reviews of novels. It seemed her career was cheap to an outsider, but to Rebecca it was a dream. She was a true believer, monsters and ghosts, good and evil, hauntings and magic - these were all real and if she could just prove it, people would take her seriously. Rebecca had heard all the rumors that Hezekiah's horror works were based on his own life, even though he denied it, and she was sure that one of the evil religious-analogues in his lesser known stories were real and snuffed him out for exposing them. "Could it be the Wizards of the Striped Star? The Brothers of the Sea? The Golden Moon? It couldn't be one of the three Abrahamic religions could it?" Rebecca thought, "In that box will be the answers. They'll see that it wasn't 'old age' that killed him. There will be proof of foul play and proof that his stories were real."

Rebecca stomps through the cemetery and nearly loses her boots to the mud. She hits the ground with a light thud as she struggles to free her boots and gives off a gasp when she notices other people in the graveyard.

[Mr. Handy]

Anne watches with interest as a woman shows up, also carrying a shovel. Is everyone after the dagger? she wonders. I need to hear whatever they say to each other! Silently, she creeps closer, using the trees and gravestones for cover.

[Supercape]

Tommy Stone


His heart heart sinks as the shape turns and starts to make it's way towards him, the shape is revealed to be a man as the figure steps onto the path, something of the man's features seem familiar... someone from the funeral perhaps.

Tipping the brim of his hat back with a forefinger Tommy waits to see what this man wants..

Harry almost had a heart attack when he spotted Tommy, and froze solid in his tracks.

"Who goes there?" he said in a hoarse voice, cursing himself for using such a worn out phrase. He would have added "Friend or foe?" but that could mean he would have to listen to a most unwelcome answer.

Still frozen, he had the horrible feeling that the Graveyard was alive with people; shadows and whispers all around him.

[Mr. Handy]

So, Anne thinks, they're not working together after all. Are they going to kill each other over the dagger? If they do, at least they're already in a cemetery!

[Priest]

A night bird, possibly an owl, screams out into the darkness. Not close, but near enough to panic you momentarily. Every second you delay increases the risk of discovery. The sheriff, Otis Farmberger, may be old, fat and more than a little lazy, but there is a vicious look in his eye that speaks of a bullies delight in the infliction of pain. Also his deputy is younger, fitter, and takes his duties far more seriously, showing more than a little interest in the 'outsiders' who have suddenly arrived in town.

All around the night seems alive with shadow and sound, was that something moving over there by the looming cross shaped headsone? Was that a squelching footstep off to your left?

What do you do?

[carnage_lee]

Tommy Stone

Tommy almost jumps as the man calls out 'The fool... why doesn't he keep quiet' he thinks.

About to hiss an angry retort for the man to be quiet Tommy stops ... what was that noise? The sudden screech of an owl makes him jump, almost making him drop his spade.

"Did you hear that?" he whispers hoarsely "We're not alone... did you bring anyone else with you?" he asks. Turning, he points over to his left; he motions the other person to follow... Tommy is determined to discover if anyone else is in the cemetery on this dark night.

Tommy Stone - Poke About: (roll+luck(+2)),[dice]0[/dice]

[Priest]

Tommy Stone glances around trying to see if the moving shadows are persons, or simply tricks of the imagination. He counts three possibles at least two of which seem to be women, however in his attempts to clarify things he dislodges a balanced headsone which lands with a mixture of a crash and splatt that echoes acroos the dark infested graveyard with a volume that could wake the tenants of the nearby graves.

[Supercape]

"what..me...I...er..." stumbled Harry, nerves prickling him. He felt like he was in one of his books.

He steeled himself. He had faced far far worse than this night. Admittedly, he had faced them in his dreams and nightmares and vivid imaginations, but still.

He followed Tommy; the man seemed to be a friend.

"I'm Harry...Harry Blake" he explained, warming himself up and trying to keep up. "Devil of a night. Typical of Hezekiah..." he said, wondering exactly what Tommy was up to...

[Mr. Handy]

Terrified, Anne dares not show herself now. Who could that be? she thinks. Is it the sheriff? Or someone worse? While staying hidden herself, she peers into the darkness in the direction of the footstep, trying to see who might have produced it.

[carnage_lee]

Tommy Stone

Tommy looks about carefully trying to pierce the gloom, he's sure that there are more people about. As he thought, the cemetery was playing host to more people; turning to the other man he prepares to let him know that they are not alone. Disaster strikes, he momentarily loses his balance as one foot slips on a patch of mud, one hand shoots out to steady himself clutching at a nearby headstone. He manages to keep his balance but in his haste to remain upright he knocks over a headstone that was balanced. The noise of that falling monument as hits the sodden ground seems to reverberate all around. He lets out another curse.

The other man introduces himself... the name seems familiar. "Stone.. you can call me Stone." he says "We're not alone you know, there's three people out there..." he adds keeping his voice low. 'So, this guy mentions Mason, coincidence... I bet not, something fishy going on here.. is this a setup?' he wonders.

"OK.. you can all come out, we've seen you .. so why don't you show yourselves?" he calls out into the night.

"I'm sure two of them a women, but be prepared.." Tommy says in a lower voice to Blake, making the other man his ally, for now at least.

[Papa Gateau]

Sister Frances Mary walks through the lych-gate of the cemetery, noting the car parked outside.

She walks slowly along the sodden path, her cane clicking with each step as she leans on it. As she continues along the path she hears a crash of stone and then shortly after a man's voice calling out.

What on earth is going on? she thinks to herself It seems the good Bishop was correct and there are a few other parties interested in our late departed Hezekiah Mason

She continues along the path, making no effort to conceal her movements and then stops when she sees the two men conversing.

Good evening gentleman! she calls cheerily What brings you to a cemetery in the middle of a cold wet night? she starts walking towards them again.

[Supercape]

"I regret I am no pugilist, Mr Stone. What am I going to do in a fight, smother them?" whispered Harry to "Stone", patting his magnificent belly. He was short of breath just walking around the graveyard.

"Oh lord, it would be a nun..." he mumbled under his breath as he saw the Sister approaching.

The damn play could wait. At least a little while.

He called out in a firmer, friendly voice. "I didn't know it was Halloween, ladies and gentlemen and assorted lurking shadows. This evening feels like a Witches Cabal from a comedy production of Macbeth. And more importantly, its cold, its wet, and I'm tired. I fancy a cup of something hot, perhaps with some whisky in..." he declared to all and sundry.

"Sister, I think Hezekiah Mason continues to exert his fame, or infamy, even when gone from this world. I doubt this will be the last night Hezekiah will draw moths to his grave in the middle of the night. He had..he has an attraction to the inquisitive. I recall his poem By moonlight undying...you may have many a fan, admirer, or obsessive trying to reenact that little masterpiece...."

[carnage_lee]

Tommy Stone

Tommy has to stop an incredulous laugh as the nun calls out to them. The events were becoming more and more surreal and there were still at least two more people trying to remain concealed nearby. He listens to Blake as he answers her question.. the man does seem to be quite nervous.

"Well isn't this turning out to be a right 'shindig'?" he says somewhat sarcastically "It seems that we three have an interest in Hezekiah Mason and I'd wager that the other souls hereabouts, have the same fascination that we do." he continues, hand sweeping to indicate the locations that he had spied earlier.

The real question ought to be.. are we here to help or hinder each other?" he cocks an eyebrow as he asks his telling question, while wondering just who Hezekiah Mason was and what could possibly draw so many people to his graveside, so soon after the internment.

[Mr. Handy]

Realizing that she's been spotted, Anne comes out of hiding. At least I'm in plenty of company here, she thinks. "So, what is your interest in the grave of Hezekiah Mason?"

[carnage_lee]

Tommy Stone

"Aha, one of the lurkers has come into the light... welcome." he says jovially, tipping his hat.

"I think you've hit the nail on the head ma'am... Hezekiah Mason but I think we should hold our tales, unless everyone is prepared to show themselves. By my reckoning there's at least one person still secreted about the tombstones..." once again he points in the general direction of where he believes someone to be hidden.

"Confessions may be good for the soul... but not with eavesdroppers." he favours Sister Frances Mary with a wry smile.