Play@YSDC

Book the Second, Chapter the Fourth: A Domestic Quarrel; Or, The Haunted Honeymoon

It having been generally agreed that it would be best to present the newly wedded couple as a fait accompli, the pair are presented to the other members of the family, to a wide variety of reactions. The twins are purely delighted, albeit with little knowledge of what is involved in the holy state of matrimony. Lady Highdark scolds her daughter for her impetuousness, but with a smile, obviously not displeased by the match. Lord Highdark, at first taken aback by the situation, and left speechless, is brought to a state of acceptance, by the flattering rhetoric of his wife.

It is Harold alone who is irreconcilable. Holding his temper as best he may, with many a scowl at Henry, whose modest overtures of friendship he ignores, he withdraws with a final statement.

"I go to the cemetery to mourn. My sister is dead."

Despite the tearful protestations of Georgina, he is last seen walking, in his usual limping manner, toward that melancholy place.

"He should not go anywhere alone," says Henry. "Whoever abducted him before may try again. Someone needs to follow him."

Lepus twiddles his coat nervously, knowing that cemeteries are not the safest of places for his kind but that he may be best placed to follow the lad.

“Old Lepus will go.”

William nods in acknowledgment to the Gypsy. Presuming that the remainder of the family will have matters to discuss relating to the new situation which will not include guests, once he is alone with Lord Dunwich and Monsieur Courcelles de Labrousse, he will ask, "Gentlemen. I opined earlier that we may have reached a point where it would require the cooperation of Lord Highdark to investigate further - certainly his or Her Ladyship's authority would be valuable if we seek our miscreant among the servants of the house. I did not wish to mar the news of the wedding, but I believe the time has come to share what we know. Do you concur?"

"Aye. The fine Lord will either believe us or cast us out as lunatics, but the truth needs to be said. Speaking of which, old Lepus would not refuse any company to yon graveyard."

"Very well, I shall accompany you. I suspect Lord Dunwich would have the best chance of convincing Lord and Lady Highdark of the situation."

Some time passes before a proper moment for obtaining a private audience with Lord Highdark may be obtained. Somewhat distracted by what has been, certainly, an evening full of unexpected events, that gentleman listens with, as one may say, half an ear, apparently not fully understanding the arcane nature of his heir's transformation. Out of respect for his high position, however, he does not place any doubt upon Doctor North's word.

"Held for ransom, eh? Sad to say, a hazard not uncommon for one destined to come into a title and a not inconsiderable fortune," he remarks, obviously thinking the disappearance an act of a common brigand. "Certainly, my Lord, you have my full co-operation to investigate those employed here in any way you see fit. You will excuse me, of course, if I attend to those matters which fall upon the unprepared head of a new father-in-law," he adds with a chuckle, fully reconciled to what many would think of as an improper match, no doubt his opinion influenced by that of his lady wife. "I shall summon whomsoever you like to answer your questions."

_________________________________________________________________________________________

By the time those in the party who wish to pursue Harold are ready to do so, dusk has yielded to night. It is no difficult task to follow his tracks, the signs of a limping man being distinctive and the fellow having made no secret of his destination, but he does have, as the saying goes, a head start, and arrives quite a bit earlier than those in pursuit.
The darkness of the night and the rough ground near the cemetery make it impossible to prevent Harold from hearing the two men approaching him.

"Who is there? Be gone," he shouts. "Leave me be in my grief."

William silently gestures that he and Lepus should retreat a way, to give Harold the sense of being alone, while keeping an eye and ear out for trouble.

Henry also explains the new science of "finger-marking" he has developed in layman's terms. "If we can get samples of the finger-marks from all of the staff," says Henry, "I can compare them to the unidentified marks on the brandy glass that was used to drug your son. Even if they don't match, that's still useful information, as it tells us who likely did not touch the glass. However, if the culprit knows we are testing everyone, it could alert him or her, so we will need to be subtle. All that's required is to get each of them to touch a different object that will hold a finger-mark. Glass is well-suited to the task."

Lepus winces as he and the gallant captain blunder around the gravestones - having stopped to collect his new rune-carved stick, perhaps he rushed a little too much to catch up.

Once challenged by the young master, he gives William an apologetic smile before stepping into Henry's view.

"'tis only your friends my Lord. Thou hast suffered greatly - we merely seek to assuage your sadness." He shows the young heir his stick. "If old Lepus may be so bold; your staff is but a poor copy of the proper thing..."

He holds out is stick, proffering it to Henry.

Mr. Handy wrote:
Henry also explains the new science of "finger-marking" he has developed in layman's terms. "If we can get samples of the finger-marks from all of the staff," says Henry, "I can compare them to the unidentified marks on the brandy glass that was used to drug your son. Even if they don't match, that's still useful information, as it tells us who likely did not touch the glass. However, if the culprit knows we are testing everyone, it could alert him or her, so we will need to be subtle. All that's required is to get each of them to touch a different object that will hold a finger-mark. Glass is well-suited to the task."

Lord Highdark is intrigued by this method of identification. Over the next several days, he will see that an object that each member of the household has touched -- himself included, as he is most curious to behold these "finger prints" for himself -- will be discretely obtained for Doctor North to examine. This is, of course, a slow and laborious process, given the large number of servants and others residing in Highdark Hall.

jp1885 wrote:
Lepus winces as he and the gallant captain blunder around the gravestones - having stopped to collect his new rune-carved stick, perhaps he rushed a little too much to catch up.

Once challenged by the young master, he gives William an apologetic smile before stepping into Henry's view.

"'tis only your friends my Lord. Thou hast suffered greatly - we merely seek to assuage your sadness." He shows the young heir his stick. "If old Lepus may be so bold; your staff is but a poor copy of the proper thing..."

He holds out is stick, proffering it to Henry.

Henry backs away, holding his walking stick close to his body.

"Nay, I'll not play the fool for your knavish tricks! Bad enough that one of your kind has stolen away the flower of our line, but now you think to gull me with such tricks? I'll have none of it. I may be lame, but may Heaven strike me down if I not give a good thrashing to any who would cheat me so."

William does his best to intercede. "I beg you, Master Altumber, calm yourself. There will be ample opportunity for you to judge his claims in better light and mettle. For now, we do not wish to intrude on your contemplation, only watch over you. You have been the victim of one dastardly scheme - better not to risk another."

Henry works in the lab, analyzing the fingerprints as they come and showing them to Lord Highdark. "Every person's finger marks are absolutely unique," he explains. "Even your twin daughters, though they be identical in practically every other way, have different marks. I foresee that this new science will be of great use in the future. Crimes that would otherwise go unsolved can be figured out, and the perpetrators brought to justice."

Lepus' eyes narrow.

"Thou wouldst threaten old Lepus?" He spits on the ground defiantly. "Knavish tricks indeed! Oh pompous buffoon, better we had left thou cursed or wrapped up for the spider - thou art naught but a spoilt brat!"

Incensed, Henry rises to his full height.

"I know not whereof you speak of spiders and such nonsense," he says, in a cold voice, "but I will not be insulted by one of such low station. It would be best to have the dogs set upon you, that they might feast upon your bones. However," he continues, "as I see that you are accompanied by one who may fairly claim to be a gentleman, I will lower myself far enough to engage you in a fair battle." Brandishing his walking stick, he goes on to say "We are both armed in the same manner, so defend yourself. Unless you are afraid to face one who has been afflicted by Nature as have I."

“‘tis not thee who lowers hisself boy.”

Grinning, the wanderer tosses his stick aside.

“There, now ‘tis a fair fight!”

His wiry muscles tense, ready for action.

Victoria,Lepus’ aim is to be struck by the boy but not to be badly injured. He intends to wrest the stick off the lad, using a curse if need be (the lad having harmed him).

A large part of William would smile to see Lepus give a thrashing to the disagreeable boy, but the aftermath would not be good for the Gypsy. He interposes himself between the two and makes one more effort to defuse the situation: "Please, Master Altumber. I know you grieve at the day's news, but there is no honour to be had in assaulting an old man who helped save your life only days past."

Showing little interest in William's admonitions, Henry remains intent on proving himself no coward.

"Old he may be," he says, "but without the affliction of body I must endure. Let Heaven favor the better man!"

He carefully places his walking stick behind him, in order that no one should claim that he fights unfairly armed. Approaching his opponent awkwardly, due to his limp, he raises his fists.

"I am no Jack Broughton," he remarks, making reference to that deceased champion of fisticuffs, "but I shall do my best." His mood seems almost a pleasant one, as if the prospect of combat has raised his spirits.
Somewhat to the surprise of all, including himself, the lad is able to strike a glancing blow against his opponent's cheek; hardly more than the slap a lady might give to one of too amorous a nature; yet it is enough to bring a grin to the fellow's face.

"Bravo young sir, thou hast proven thyself. Now there be consequences..."

His objective achieved, Lepus also grins. The lad has harmed a Gypsy, thus allowing the wounded party to seek redress through a curse.

While Lepus' subsequent mutterings may seem dark and dire, he has no real wish to harm the young heir and therefore his curse is merely to put the boy to sleep for a few minutes.

If this is successful, he will swap sticks (using a rag to pick up the boy's, just in case the touch is harmful) before walking away before Henry wakes up (mayhap he will think himself over-exerted following the fisticuffs).

The power of the Gypsy Curse causes the hot-tempered heir to collapse to the ground, sound asleep, snoring loudly. He will remain in that state for several hours, as with natural sleep, unless forcibly aroused. This grants Lepus ample opportunity to make the desired swap of walking sticks.

Me too. Odd.

"Oh!" exclaims William when he realises what Lepus has done and why. "I ought not to encourage such acts against members of the gentry, but in the case of this brat, I am bound to say well done. I should remain with him until he awakens though - best not to neglect our ostensible purpose." He will look after Harold until he wakes - and make sure he recovers, suggesting that the fight was perhaps too much exertion after the disturbances of the day.

“Aye, watch over the fool. Tell him, mayhap, that he bested old Lepus, who ran away with his tail between his legs. Speak not of this exchange of sticks though, hm?”

Leaving the soldier to look after the young heir, Lepus carefully picks up the lad’s stick with a rag before retreating to an out-of-the-way place to examine it fully.

From his previous experience with objects of arcane nature, Lepus is able to deduce that the carvings upon the walking stick are designed to allow the bearer to pass through walls as if they were no more than the rarest of mountain airs; however, there is also a warning that such power carries with it a heavy price which the user must pay, this being not specified.

Upon awakening, Lord Highdark's son searches about for his walking stick. Seizing that which has been left in its place, he cries "This is not mine! Where is it?"

He rises to his feet in a state of agitation. (By this time, of course, Lepus will have taken opportunity to retreat to a safer place.) It is notable that he no longer has a limp, and if fact moves in the manner of one in perfect health.

Perhaps sensing that Henry will have seen through Lepus' ruse, the wanderer does not dawdle. Seeking out Vincent and Dr. North, he explains his discovery.

"Old Lepus will bear the consequences and use the stick to gain access to the sealed room. Thou need not accompany me, but, if this fool is unwilling to part with it when he returns, be sure to wrest it from him, by magical means if necessary."

That said, he makes his way to Miss Ravenscroft's laboratory and the wall to the secret room.

William decides to be direct about this development. "Perhaps the loss is not so grievous Master Altumber. Your recent exertions seem to have had a salubrious effect on your infirmity."

"I shall accompany you," says Henry, "and Ivan as well. I'm curious to see what is in this sealed room myself."

Brief experimentation with the strange walking stick elicits the information that whosoever has it in his possession most recently suffers from an impairment of the limbs, varying from person to person in the exact details, but always resulting in partial lameness.
Aware of the cursed nature of the thing, but ready to investigate such secrets as the sealed room may hold, the bold adventurers, one by one, grasp the stick firmly, experience the loss of mobility it demands as payment for its dark service, and enter, as if they were passing through no more than mist, into the heretofore sealed room.

It proves to be an elegantly furnished bedroom, as if for a pair of favored guests, containing such accouterments as are common for such. Of particular notice are a pair of armoires, in the French style, one containing men's clothing of Continental design, the other those of a lady. Upon a mirrored article of furniture, so appropriately known as a vanity, are several bottles of perfume and cologne, with some other items which relate to the mystery of the cosmetic arts. The bed itself is of artful design, playful cherubs carved upon the headboard, and equipped with a canopy of deep red velvet. The room is currently unoccupied.

Exiting the room, if it so be desired, requires the same use of the walking stick as entry into it, with the same experience of infirmity accompanying its use.

SunlessNick wrote:William decides to be direct about this development. "Perhaps the loss is not so grievous Master Altumber. Your recent exertions seem to have had a salubrious effect on your infirmity."

As if newly aware of the situation, the young heir looks down at his legs, walks around a bit, and nods.

"Indeed, you are correct, Sir. And I feel as if I have been freed from some dark cloud which formerly hung o'er my head. Strange, is it not? Well, let us return to Highdark Hall, to see what plans my dear sister has made, now that she is a married lady."

The change in the fellow's attitude is unmistakable. He pays no mind to the decoy walking stick, carelessly leaving it behind.

For various reasons, Lepus has feigned lameness many times during his wanderings, but to experience the real thing is somewhat disconcerting. Nevertheless, he his prepared to keep hold of the accused stick unless Henry or Ivan wishes to grasp the thing.

He takes in his opulent surroundings with great interest.

“Mayhap the secret abode of the young master and a paramour, yesno? Be he our quarry?”

He prods Henry in the chest with a bony finger.

“Your science: the printing of fingers - canst thou perform it on these bottles? Meantime’s, old Lepus will look about.”

He will search the chamber for clues, specifically anything that ties the room to the shrinking and growing potions and/or the writings in the other secret chamber.

If time allows he will also search for alternative exits from the room.

"Gladly," says William, taken aback by the change in the young heir. It does not escape his notice that if in some preternatural fashion the walking stick was responsible for Harold's ill temper as well as his lameness, that Lepus may have to contend with such an influence now as well.

"Indeed I can," says Henry, examining the bottles for usable prints. "I'll use my handkerchief to pick them up carefully. That way I don't contaminate it by handling it with my own fingers or smudge the marks that are already there."

Careful examination of the sealed room reveals that there is no other way to enter or exit save the preternatural one provided by the walking stick.

When Doctor North obtains the marks left by the fingers of the occupants, it is immediately obvious that many of them are those of young Harold, which is no surprise. The only others observed are identical to the unidentified ones previously found on the glass of brandy! To whom they belong will soon be revealed, as investigation into all occupants of the manor house continue.

Besides the common items of apparel and personal grooming expected in a place of rendezvous, the only other object of interest disclosed by the careful inspection of Lepus is a sheet of paper, crumpled and tossed aside, upon which are inscribed are a few lines, much crossed out and revised, as if someone were interrupted in the process of composition. What remains legible is as follows.

in thy fields of grain then let me lie
and there my lessons take

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Within the main rooms of Highdark Hall, the news is received that Henry and Georgina, both being of a highly romantic nature, have undertaken to spend their first night as a married couple in the Hermit's Cave, within the Grotto Pool, located in the southeastern section of the estate. When Lord Highdark makes some remark that this is mere foolishness, to subject one's person to the elements, Lady Highdark requests that he not be such a stick-in-the-mud.

"Mais oui, Madame Highdark," Vincent remarks, frowning. "I have previously detected a, how do you say, malign presence in zis part of ze house underground. I think for ze safety of ze young mademoiselle I at least should examine zis pool before ze couple arrive, non?"

Lepus mutters the lines of prose to himself, but it's meaning eludes him for now. He shows the paper to Henry.

"Mayhap an aspiring poet, yesno? You say the finger patterns match our mysterious tamperer? Must be the lady then..."

Casting impropriety aside (not that such things matter to the wanderer), Lepus inspects the women's clothing and accoutrements, looking for any signs of identification (labels, hair strands on brushes etc.). He also checks the size of the clothes, in case he can match them with any females he has encountered in the household.

When William arrives back at the Hall, he will seek out the other adventurers (under the circumstances, presumably Vincent is the one he finds) to relate the changes in Harold after being relieved of the staff.

"Quite," Henry replies to Lepus. "We shall soon unmask her. We'll get samples from everyone in this house soon enough. It's only a matter of time." He looks around to see if there's a writing desk or something similar.

Rooter wrote:"Mais oui, Madame Highdark," Vincent remarks, frowning. "I have previously detected a, how do you say, malign presence in zis part of ze house underground. I think for ze safety of ze young mademoiselle I at least should examine zis pool before ze couple arrive, non?"

"I see no reason for concern," Lady Highdark responds, "However, if you wish to make such an excursion, I shall take advantage of your errand. Wait here a moment, please."

She rushes out of the room, only to return a moment later with her arms full of peacock feathers, dried flowers, and such items.

"I task you to place these within the Hermit's Cave in an artistic manner, trusting to your Gallic instinct for such matters," she says, filling Vincent's arms, will-I nill-I, with the motley collection of decorative furbelows and geegaws. "Hurry, now, whilst I prepare Georgina for her wedding night!"

(Whether this refers to aid in dressing and styling her hair, or in supplying motherly advice, remains an unanswered question, as she draws Georgina aside for private consultation, leaving Vincent carrying his burden.)

jp1885 wrote:
Lepus mutters the lines of prose to himself, but it's meaning eludes him for now. He shows the paper to Henry.

"Mayhap an aspiring poet, yesno? You say the finger patterns match our mysterious tamperer? Must be the lady then..."

Casting impropriety aside (not that such things matter to the wanderer), Lepus inspects the women's clothing and accoutrements, looking for any signs of identification (labels, hair strands on brushes etc.). He also checks the size of the clothes, in case he can match them with any females he has encountered in the household.

There are no inscriptions to found upon the various items of feminine vanity, this not being common save when such are gifts from a wealthy lover; in this instance, the objects seem to be of modest value, and appear to have been used for some period of time, as if they were in the possession of the female in question before being stored in this peculiar room. As for the size of clothing, they suggest someone of average height and slender girth. There are a few strands of light brown hair to be found within a brush. Thus far, said clues do not reveal the exact identity of any particular person, as they might belong to any one of several servant girls, to name only one possibility. (Surely it is not unknown for Master and Maid to play the ago-old game of seduction, one against the other, although it is not often easy to tell who has the upper hand.) They do, however, eliminate the female members of the family, all of whom possess much darker hair, as well as, for example, Miss Ravenscroft, who is much taller than the clothing would indicate, and who is crowned with tresses the color of a raven's wing.

Mr. Handy wrote:
"Quite," Henry replies to Lepus. "We shall soon unmask her. We'll get samples from everyone in this house soon enough. It's only a matter of time." He looks around to see if there's a writing desk or something similar.

There is indeed such an article of furnishing, equipped with paper, ink, and quills.

"Pah!"

Lepus tosses an item of clothing aside, hissing with disappointment.

"There be nothing of use among these rags!" He turns to Henry. "Hast thou precious 'science' told thee anything?"

Meeting the capitaine in passing, Vincent hurriedly explains his errand to the cave should the soldier elect to accompany him.

William will go with Vincent, offering also to share the unwieldy collection of burdens that have been imposed on him.

"Science takes time," says Henry. He begins to search the writing desk. "Perhaps there is more written down than just the poem."

A careful search of a few crumpled sheets of paper left on the writing desk reveals only some lines of romantic poesy, much scratched out and rewritten, seemingly left behind by one not very skilled in the arts of Erato. The author frequently compares the object of desire with Ceres, in a rather clumsy manner. There are also one or two metaphors relating the writer to one being instructed in the ways of love by another more experienced, although these are less than fully developed.


___________________________________________________________________________

William and Vincent, like supplicants of Hymenaeum, carry their festive burden from the manor home, past the tennis court, the rose garden, and the Temple of Cotytto, to the secluded Grotto Pool. By walking along the deep blue waters, spring-fed from unknown depths and sheltered from above by an overlay of moss-laden granite cliffs, one passes beyond to the so-called Hermit's Cave. This proves to be a small recess, floored with surprisingly dry, soft sand, compared to the wet, rocky ground found in other nearby areas. Traces of fires, long burned out, provide evidence of previous occupation. It is a place where one or two persons might withdraw from the elements and spend some time in relative comfort. Currently there is a supply of bread, cheese, and sweet wine provided for the expected newlyweds, as well as pillows and blankets of a type normally made use of by the servant class. Clearly someone has prepared, well in advance, for the happy couple.

Snatching some of the sheets of poetry from Henry's hands, Lepus peers at the doggrel.

"'tis nought but the mewlings of a babe!" he spits. "There be nothing of interest here - let us away!"

Without waiting for his comrades, Gypsy stalks towards the wall, impeded somewhat by his limp.

"I must concede the appeal of this place to a romantic soul," says William. "But for your other purpose here, is there anything i can do to assist you in your examination, or is it best that I merely remain quiet while you concentrate?"

Henry goes with Lepus and leaves the sealed room. "Ever since you acquired that stick," he says, "I've noticed that you are behaving more and more like its former owner. You are even limping like he did. You didn't do that before."

"'tis nothing!" Lepus snaps. "Thou nags like an old woman - leave me be!"

He clutches the stick to his chest.

"I am not sure, Capitaine," Vincent replies at the Hermit's Cave. "It is ze waters I am thinking of, and ze evil thing underground. We will arrange Madame Highdark's feathers like a Paris boudoir, non?" While doing this he mutters an incantation to Detect Evil.

The magician's spell reveals that the waters are very weakly contaminated by a source of evil, which lies at a great distance, but is not actively present in the Grotto itself.

Not much later, a procession of the younger and more personable of the female servants, dressed for the occasion in what our more romantic artists imagine to be the wear of ancient Greeks, leads the newly wed couple to the Grotto, where they are presented with many good wishes. The party of attendants then dashes away, with many a giggle and jesting word.

The bride and groom thanks the two gentlemen for their gracious aid in decorating the Grotto.

______________________________________________________________________________

After all have passed back out of the sealed room, it will be quite apparent that Lepus has not only acquired a limp and a foul temper, but is most reluctant to part with the walking stick, clutching it to himself as if it were a treasure of great value.

By the time a full investigation of the room has taken place, the ongoing collection of finger marks has yielded its intended information; to wit, that the heretofore unknown markings belong to Miss Rye, governess to the young twins.

Leaning heavily on the stick, Lepus spits at the mention of Miss Rye's name.

"Gah! We are fools for not seeing it sooner! The woman goes about as would a ghost - unnoticed, unheeded and vengeful! A mistress for the poor crippled heir yet ignored and unloved!"

He harrumps, tapping the stick noisily on the floor and glaring balefully at the assembled company.

"Idiots the lot of us! Catch her we must, before she realises she is exposed!"

OOC:   Presuming William and Vincent are reunited with the rest of the company:

"Indeed we must. Much makes sense in light of this revelation," says WIlliam. "Then we must decide what to do with this walking stick." He proceeds to relate the change that took place in Harold once he lost the stick - now evidenced by the reverse having befallen Lepus.

"We must take care when confronting her," says Henry, "lest she escape. She too may be able to pass through walls, though she does not own the stick. She could have simply touched it when the young man owned it to enter the secret chamber, or she may have her own means of doing so. We should also look into the origins of the stick and see if there is a way of lifting the curse that accompanies it."

These matters require some thought and precaution, it being best to retire for the evening and meditate upon the best manner in which to confront the heretofore unremarkable Miss Rye. (That personage is, of course, easy to locate during daylight hours, the twins being under her care all the while.)

A few days pass. It being a truism that one cannot subsist on love alone, eventually Georgina and Henry return to the manor house, in evident high spirits. Lady Highdark takes occasion to draw her eldest daughter into seclusion for private conversation, from which she returns with a smile and Georgina with a fetching blush upon her cheeks. As if to steer the thoughts of the assembled guests away from speculation concerning their discussion, she raises the subject, apparently apropos of nothing in particular, of dreams.

"Do you believe," she inquires of all, "that dreams are premonitions of future events, clouded in such manner as the prophecies of the Pythoness?"

"Rot," Lord Highdark remarks, rather bluntly. "More likely the product of ill-prepared victuals."

"Perhaps," she continues, "but Georgina relates a most curious dream she had last night. It seemed as if a great, dark, storm-riven ocean wave grew out of the ground, inundating Highdark Hall and all within its walls. Am I not correct, my dear?"

"Yes, Mama," Georgina replies. "I was most frightened, silly girl that I am, but Henry was able to comfort my childish imaginings." The pair gaze into each other eyes with obvious affection.

The happy nuptuals pass Lepus by; such romantics meaning nothing to the increasingly grouchy fellow.

However, at the mention of portentious dreams, he snorts a mirthless laugh.

"Why is it that clever men, when presented with such things, reason like idiots? There be a lake of evil under the house - 'tis only a matter of time before it rises."

When his comrades speak of the stick, he clutches it defensively.

"Dost thou think old Lepus does not know what this is doing to him? Did he not ask yon dunderheads to take the stick off him? But nay, they let him keep it."

"Old Lepus sees it clearly, so he does. Thou would have me walk through strongroom walls and steal for you, yesno? Then thou wouldst let the poor gypsy take the blame!"

"If you've asked to be relieved of it," says William, "give it to me now. We can take turns with it as necessary until a more permanent solution can be found."

Regarding the dreams, he says, "I am not a man to believe in preternatural portents. Yet I have seen many peculiar things of late, and it is not in the nature of a soldier to disregard warnings."

Deep in thought, Lepus clutches the stick protectively, before coming to a decision and tossing the stick contemptuously at the soldier's feet.

"Take the damn thing then!"

William gingerly picks it up.

OOC:   I can't tell for sure if the conversations about the dream and the stick are happeing at once. If so, then William will quickly excuse himself, not wishing to subject Georgina or Lady Highdark to the turn his temper is likely to take.

"Dreams do have meaning," says Henry. "They are often the way the mind sorts things out and tries to make sense of them, though sometimes dreams make little sense afterwards. And Lepus is right, there is a pool of evil beneath HIghdark Hall. We will need to do something about that."

William:
It is notable that Lepus grows calm, and walks with greater ease than before. Contrariwise, William now has a noticeable limp, and a more churlish nature than usual. He withdraws from his companions with the barest trace of a civil departure.

Having overheard some portion of his guests' conversation, Lord Highdark grows pale, and softly murmurs, as if to himself, "I had thought it sealed forever."

"Sealed, Monsieur Highdark?" Vincent inquires. "What is zis?"

"Seals have a way of weakening over time," says Henry. "Please, my Lord, tell us what you know about it and what was done to seal it. We can help makes sure it remains sealed. Your family's safety is at stake."

Lepus massages his legs, chuckling as he feels the life coming back into them. Knowing the effects of the cursed stick first hand, he resolves to keep a close eye on the gallant soldier.

His ears prick up at the mention of a seal. Clearly the noble master knows more than he's admitted until now. The wanderer keeps his own counsel about this and listens to what the man has to say.

William withdraws to his room for now - stewing with resentment over matters once gain having taken a turn beyond his ken, so that he must defer to natural philosopher and the magicians. He demands some refreshment from a servant on the way, hoping some drink will ease the pain in his leg.

With a deep sigh, Lord Highdark sinks into a chair, with a dejected look.

"The Altumbers," he begins, speaking slowly and softly, "have not always been held in high esteem. It is for that reason, I suspect, that my forebears caused this estate to be erected in an isolated and lonely place. The land was granted to my ancestors for services rendered to the Crown, before and after the downfall of the savage reign of the tyrant Cromwell. It was a evil, bloody time, as is well known, with scenes which might have come from the very pits of Hell. Brother fought brother, and not even my own family was entirely spared from the internecine slaughter.

"Rumors of witchcraft, of murder most foul! There is, no doubt, much that is yet unknown even to myself, but it is said that our line is under a curse for these crimes.

"More than half a century ago a ceremony was performed, or so the tale goes, which protected us from destruction by this foretold doom. The details of the ritual, and of the form which our supposed destroyer will take, are lost in the fogs of time; but there is a prophecy, whispered from father to son for generations, less than half-understood by any.

"'The Ancient One will rise, and devour the house of Altumber'

"I had thought this so-named 'Ancient One' eternally imprisoned, as much so as Lucifer and his angels; but what you say leads me to suspect that all was in vain."

Lepus ponders deeply upon Lord Highdark’s words. He fingers his beard, dislodging numerous crumbs and other less mentionable particles.

“Did not the twins speak of a friend arriving soon? ‘tis my belief that the fae that dwells within the doll is connected to this disaster. We should scour the library once more - mayhap we can find references to this ritual.”

“The caves could also show us the way, yesno? We can explore the small tunnels now we have the ken to shrink ourselves...”

He looks expectantly at Henry.

“But first, let us act upon what we already know and deal with the governess, hm?”

"Yes, now that we know what to look for, some further research in the library is in order," says Henry. "We will need to be careful how we deal with Miss Rye, and we will need the captain with us, as he bears the stick now. If she can indeed pass through walls by some other means, he will be the only one who can pursue her directly."

The intrepid adventurers, no doubt glad of a more peaceful pursuit than confronting unnatural beings, peruse Lord Highdark's extensive, if eccentrically arranged, library of family chronicles, local history and legends, and what-have-you.

The soldier and the Gypsy both fail to locate anything of interest; the former, perhaps he is in a state of choler, the latter, perhaps because his wit is more attuned to matters other than the printed page.

Be that as it may, Doctor North and Vincent's efforts have not been in vain.

The natural philosopher happens upon a old and curious volume of local lore, entitled An Account of the Pre-Edenic Era, Heretofore Unbeknownst to the Many; Or, The Bellwether of Lucifer Described. The anonymous author writes in a most peculiar style, as if seized by madness whilst engaged in the book's creation. However, through careful study, it is possible to derive some sense from it, as the miner extracts precious minerals from a great mountain of rock.

In brief, the author claims that the Earth is far older than generally suspected, and that, long before Adam drew breath, it was inhabited by dreadful beings whose origin is unknowable. As a single example, the area where Highdark Hall now rests is said to have been the demesne of a vast creature, dwelling in subterranean waters, which emerged from time to time, to claim as sacrifice other ancient animals of that time.

It is fortunate that the party of adventurers includes one whose native tongue is French; for it seems the library also contains a slim volume of strange poetry, written in a little-known variant of that tongue, from which the Frenchman is able to eke out some meaning. It appears to relate to the antediluvian being described in the other book, to which the unknown author reacts with a mixture of terror and ecstasy, offering these verses as a way to soothe its fervid lusts.

Lepus squints at at the arcane tomes, shaking his head as he listens to the others' translations.

"'tis a strange tale, yesno? This doggrel, does it sooth the beast? Does not stop it though, hm?"

Pondering for a moment, he proposes a course of action: speak to Miss Rye and tie up that loose end (assuming that she is not allied to this monster). Following that, brew up a weak version of the shrinking potion so that they can fit down the small tunnels whilst retaining their wits and investigate the strange green glow.

"Indeed, by all means let us drink potions to make ourselves smaller and weaker," snaps William.

"That is a point," says Henry, though he chafes at how William delivered it. "The tunnels were small, but not so small that one person couldn't fit in them without being reduced in size. The potion may not be necessary to explore them. The poem should prove useful to calm the beast down. It won't defeat it, but it may at least prevent it from attacking."

"Oui, oui." Vincent pockets the slim volume of French verse.

There being no apparent objection to beginning further investigation with an interview with Miss Rye, although how to proceed thereafter has, it seems, led to some contention within the group, the aforementioned governess is directed to present herself to the party. When arrangements are made for the temporary care of the twins, she presents herself to the adventurers as requested. The Portrait Hall on the second floor, a large room containing several paintings of Lord and Lady Highdark's ancestors, is used for this purpose, it being a room large enough to afford room for all, easily accessible, and yet secluded enough to allow a reasonable amount of privacy.

Miss Rye enters. As always, she is neatly but simply dressed, and carries herself with the proper combination of dignity and modesty required by her position.

"Yes, my Lord and gentlemen?"

Having had first-hand experience of the sticks effects, Lepus pays no heed to William's ranting. He does however concede to his argument that the potion would have an enfeebling effect on them. Perhaps it would be useful to have a bottle on hand though, just in case they get stuck when exploring the narrow tunnels.

Upon her arrival, the wanderer bows to Miss Rye.

"Ah, wondering we was, whether thou wouldst join us in a toast to celebrate the return to health of the young master. Shall we call for the bottle thou didst pour for him t'other day so that thou may drink from it, hm?"

Henry quietly gestures for Ivan to circle around behind Miss Rye and block the door. He himself moves to a position where he can stand in her path in case she tries to flee in a different direction.

"I am afraid you are mistaken, sirs," Miss Rye replies, without an change in her quiet demeanor. "I never indulge in strong drink. Nor would it be seemly for me to act as a serving wench, or engage in familiarity with one of higher station."

"Ah, but the new-fangled science of this modern age proves otherwise..."

Lepus nods deferentially to Dr. North.

"There be methods of identifying who's touched what. Madam, we knows what thou hast been touching, what sealed chambers thou hast been in, what walls thou hast been passing, what devilish books thou hast been reading...."

If the young heir is present, the wanderer will shift his gaze meaningfully between him and the governess.

William merely glowers threateningly at Miss Rye, though he holds the stick in prominent view to see how she reacts.

"Indeed," says Henry. "I can uniquely identify the person who touched an object, such as a brandy glass, by the marks their fingers leave upon it. I can even use it to tell the difference between your young charges, who are alike in every other particular."

With a shriek such as might have come from the savage throat of one of the great cats found in the land of the Hindus, Miss Rye hurls herself upon the walking stick, seeking to wrest it from the grip of the surly soldier.
It is not very surprising that the young woman's effort is without success. She falls to the floor, hissing with rage, as if Tiger had become Serpent.

Lepus skips back, aghast at the woman's startling transformation.

"The woman's mind be addled - 'tis that accursed stick! Explain yourself hellcat! How came you under it's thrall?"

William bends his leg back as if to kick Miss Rye, but restrains himself at the last second.

"There is no use fighting," says Henry. "There are too many of us, and you cannot flee either. Now, let's have a discussion like civilised people."

To the shock and horror of all, Miss Rye, with shrieking laughter that could only come from one seized by madness, rushes to the nearest window, throws it open, and stands upon the sill. As a stray wind brushes her hair, now in a disordered state, across her face, she speaks with the chilling calm of lunacy.

"My virtue sold for a thing carved from wood, only to have it wrested from me by my own seducer. Then turned I thief, to wield the harlot's poisons against he who betrayed me. I have not sinned so greatly only to have my treasure, my one power upon this Earth, fall into the hands of another. Yield to me the wand, or I shall hurl myself to the cruel ground."

"Mon dieu!" Vincent cries. "Capitaine, give her ze stick!"

Lepus elbows Vincent.

"Canst thou not compel her to step away with your magick?"

To Miss Rye he yells:

"But what of your charges? Who shall teach them?"

Rooter wrote:"Mon dieu!" Vincent cries. "Capitaine, give her ze stick!"

OOC:   Wisdom 10 SunlessNick rolled 1D20: 2

"Very well, if she is so feeble of heart that she cannot live without it." William throws the stick toward Miss Rye.

"I'd have thought you'd have been glad to be rid of it, Miss Rye, considering the curse," says Henry. "I certainly do not want it. You're welcome to have it back."

Rooter wrote:"Mon dieu!" Vincent cries. "Capitaine, give her ze stick!"

In some arcane manner, the words and gestures of the Frenchman have a calming effect on the distressed woman, who steps quietly down from her precarious perch.

jp1885 wrote:
Lepus elbows Vincent.

"Canst thou not compel her to step away with your magick?"

To Miss Rye he yells:

"But what of your charges? Who shall teach them?"

In an eerily lifeless voice, she replies, "They are nothing. The Ancient One is all."

SunlessNick wrote:

Rooter wrote:"Mon dieu!" Vincent cries. "Capitaine, give her ze stick!"

OOC:   Wisdom 10 SunlessNick rolled 1D20: 2

"Very well, if she is so feeble of heart that she cannot live without it." William throws the stick toward Miss Rye.

The walking stick goes flying in the direction of Miss Rye, not unlike a club hurled by a savage at an enemy. It does not strike her, and she attempts to seize it.
In her current state of mind, she lacks the grace to capture the object successfully, and it falls to the floor under, as luck would have it, a portrait of the current Lord Highdark.

Mr. Handy wrote:
"I'd have thought you'd have been glad to be rid of it, Miss Rye, considering the curse," says Henry. "I certainly do not want it. You're welcome to have it back."

In the same dead voice, she replies, "It did not come to me. I have lost it." She then falls to the floor, insensate.

"The woman's mind is addled - only bedlam can help her now, yesno?"

Lepus rushes over to the prone governess to make sure she is uninjured (and surreptitiously search for any other evil objects).

"As for yon stick - pick it up wearing gloves or with a cloth, hm? The thing should be chopped up and burnt."

Is William still suffering its effects? He might have thrown it away, but no one else has taken it.

"Though this be madness, yet there is method to it," says Henry, quoting the Bard. "She will no doubt end up in an institution, hopefully one that is better at keeping inmates from escaping than the one that housed Violette Dupray. But first we must learn what she knows." He tries to revive Miss Rye with smelling salts, and then he addresses her. "What do you know of the Ancient One?"

jp1885 wrote:
"The woman's mind is addled - only bedlam can help her now, yesno?"

Lepus rushes over to the prone governess to make sure she is uninjured (and surreptitiously search for any other evil objects).

"As for yon stick - pick it up wearing gloves or with a cloth, hm? The thing should be chopped up and burnt."

Miss Rye carries nothing upon her person that would not be expected of one of her station.

SunlessNick wrote:Is William still suffering its effects? He might have thrown it away, but no one else has taken it.

As soon as he has cast the object away with deliberation, William's limp vanishes, and his mind grows calm.

Mr. Handy wrote:
"Though this be madness, yet there is method to it," says Henry, quoting the Bard. "She will no doubt end up in an institution, hopefully one that is better at keeping inmates from escaping than the one that housed Violette Dupray. But first we must learn what she knows." He tries to revive Miss Rye with smelling salts, and then he addresses her. "What do you know of the Ancient One?"

Choking and coughing from the shock of the smelling salts, Miss Rye at first replies with words that cannot be made out. Then, recovering herself, she sits up and, with a strange twisted smile, says softly, "It begins."

At that moment, a tremor, which might bring to mind the cataclysm that struck the city of Lisbon some half a century ago, shakes Highdark Hall, sending the portrait of Lord Highdark crashing to the floor, where it smashes against the walking stick, shattering the portrait's frame and ripping its canvas. After a time that seems much longer than it truly must have been, the shaking stops, only to be followed by a series of smaller tremors, which do not do as much damage.

Miss Rye points at the fallen portrait.

"The Ancient One has chosen. He shall be first!" She laughs wildly.

As the house shakes, Lepus looks around in alarm.

“This does not bode well. Yon governess must be bound, lest she causes more mischief. Someone must also look to the twins’ welfare.”

“His lordship must be guarded and one of us must sing the rhyme to put this ‘Ancient One’ to rest, yesno?”

"Indeed," says Henry. "Ivan, bind her and then follow us. We must find His Lordship quickly. Monsieur de Labrousse would be best suited to recite the poem, being both French and skilled in the arcane arts."

jp1885 wrote:"As for yon stick - pick it up wearing gloves or with a cloth, hm? The thing should be chopped up and burnt."

Indeed it should. I would have been happy to keep hold of it and let Miss Rye leap her death had not the good Monsieur's words reached me.

Mr. Handy wrote:

"Indeed," says Henry. "Ivan, bind her and then follow us. We must find His Lordship quickly. Monsieur de Labrousse would be best suited to recite the poem, being both French and skilled in the arcane arts."

"Agreed." Any servants the party encounters, he will accost for information on Lord Highdark's whereabouts.

It is fortunate that this confrontation takes place in the Portrait Gallery, for one needs merely to pass through a single doorway to reach Lord Highdark's office where, as luck would have it, he is currently located. (There is also a fireplace in use, in the event that the plan to destroy the walking stick is carried out by some one of the party.)

Evidently Lord Highdark was at work, as there are numerous papers scattered about the room, apparently sent flying by the first tremor. The man himself is in a state of alarm; indeed, more so than one would expect from the shaking of the manor house, as disturbing as that might be. He holds one hand to his breast, the other held out as if to ward off some attacker. He wanders throughout the room without obvious method, eyes wide, occasionally gasping in fright.

"No," he cries in a trembling voice. "Back! Back, I say!" It is not clear to whom these remarks are addressed.

Another strong tremor shakes the room.
Perhaps due to his sheer bulk, only the mighty Russian remains standing during this latest shaking of the Earth, all others collapsing. Large pieces of the ceiling break off and fall to the ground.
Fortunately, they land far from the body of the panicking Lord Highdark, as serious injury might result from such.

As the building shakes, Lepus scrambles to get back on his feet.

“Speak the rhyme Monsieur!”

"Ivan, protect Lord Highdark!" calls Henry, unable to rise himself. "Shield him under the desk!"

The loyal servant does so, carrying the distressed aristocrat as easily as if he were a small child.
Despite the Frenchman's ability to recite the strange poem accurately from memory, this appears to have no effect on the situation, as if the intended target of the words is too far off to hear them.
A large piece of plaster falls upon the head of Ivan, slightly injuring the mighty Russian, a small amount of blood flowing down his forehead.

As those prone upon the floor regain their feet -- Lord Highdark making no effort to do so, it seems -- many screams, mostly but not entirely feminine, can be heard coming from the first floor, just below.

"We must move closer to ze underground, non?" Vincent says. "In ze kitchen cellar zere is a way down."

"Aye, you be correct Monsieur le sorcier."

Lepus jumps at the sound of screaming.

"I shall accompany thee, but there be others in need of help. Fine sirs, mayhap you leave the magick to us and tend to them?"

As if by an afterthought, he wraps his hand with rags and gingerly flips the stick into the fireplace.

"One less evil to deal with, yesno?"

William nods at Lepus's suggestion; "Good luck." He rushes off in the direction of the screaming.

"Yes, you need to recite the poem at the underground lake," says Henry, rising. "Ivan,we need to head down to the first floor and help the people there! His Lordship should be safe under the desk." He hurries downstairs.

More tremors strike as the bold adventurers rush down the stairs.

Of the intrepid trio intent on coming to the aid of those in distress on the first floor, it is only Ivan -- stout-hearted fellow! -- who reaches his destination without being tossed to the floor by the constant shaking. While Doctor North and William watch, the mighty Russian leads terrified servants out the front door to relative safety, the rushes back inside to lift the others to their feet. The normally sure-footed Lepus, perhaps due to some lingering effect of the walking stick, now slowly burning (with odd blue-green flames, it may have been noted) in the fireplace above, also falls to the ground while yet on the first floor. There is as yet no sign of any of the members of the Altumber family.

Vincent is able to descend to the basement, when another tremor -- felt more intensely here, evidently near the source of the violence -- sends him sprawling, on the very edge of the foul cesspit and its unplumbed depths.

Muttering foul curses under his breath, Lepus scrambles to his feet and tries to catch up with the magician.

"Well done Ivan," says William (doubtless reflecting that there are many times this mighty man would have proved his value on the battlefield). He endeavours to make for the drawing room, reasoning that it's a likely place for at least one of the family to be, and if that is so, that individual may know where the others are.

"Yes, Ivan, well done!" cheers Henry, struggling back to his feet. "Quickly, to the Lady's Wing! The female members of the family may be there, and we should rescue them first,"

Vincent begins to recite the incantation where he lies at the edge of the pit.

For at least a time, the tremors have ceased. The sounds of disturbed birds, dogs, and horses can be here from without the manor home. In the Lady's Wing, Doctor North and Ivan find Lady Highdark and the twins. Her Ladyship is clearly frightened, but her countenance reveals resolution in the face of danger. The twins, still as ever, clutching, one or the other, to the poppet Topsy, are unusually subdued, yet smiling. In the drawing room, William finds Henry, Harold, and Georgina, the latter in an obvious state of distress, her face stained with tears, holding Artemis close to her bosom; it is difficult to tell who offers the more comfort to the other.

Meanwhile, close to the evil-smelling pit, Lepus comes upon Vincent reciting the strange poem. As hoped for, this seems to have the desired effect of taming whatever it is that shakes the Earth like a child's plaything. At the moment that the Frenchman ceases speaking, however, a smaller tremor is felt, as if by way of warning. From far below, no telling how deep, an inhuman voice, echoing from unseen chambers below, rasps out with a sound unlike that of any mortal, free of all emotion, each word emerging slowly, one at a time, as if the bubbling pits of boiling hot mud, said to exist in the wilder places of the New World, could speak.

Who. Will. Be. Mine.

William will see to the safety of the three young Albumbers - getting them out of the hosue for now, despite the slowing of the earth tremors - then return to the office to check on Lord Highdark.

Lepus feels the words, rather than hears them. Such an ancient voice seems to resonate with him somewhow. Though unsure whether such a being would communicate with such a lowly being such as himself, he tries anyway, speaking in his best faerie tongue.

"How say you oh Ancient One? Explain!"

Henry sees to Ivan's injury and then heads back to the portrait room with him to treat Lord Highdark.

jp1885 wrote:
Lepus feels the words, rather than hears them. Such an ancient voice seems to resonate with him somewhow. Though unsure whether such a being would communicate with such a lowly being such as himself, he tries anyway, speaking in his best faerie tongue.

"How say you oh Ancient One? Explain!"

I. Will. Feed. Willing. Or. No. Come!

As if to emphasize the last word spoken -- if such a term may be used to describe a voice which is not a voice -- an extrusion of the contents of the pit, something like a tentacle of the fabled giant squids said to pull great ships down to their doom, but composed, it seems, of rotting offal rather than living flesh, rises from the unfathomed depths below, waving in front of the two humans, exuding a nauseating stench, and dripping with thick, gray-green ichor.

Mr. Handy wrote:
Henry sees to Ivan's injury and then heads back to the portrait room with him to treat Lord Highdark.

As the skilled healing hands of Doctor North revive Lord Highdark, who is more injured in soul than in body, William enters.

Speaking, it seems to no one in particular, in a weak voice, Lord Highdark mutters a few inarticulate sounds, then goes on to say "It is true, then. The legend. Once in a century it rises to feed upon one of Altumber blood; or else wreak vengeance upon all within Highdark Hall!"

Lepus skitters backwards to avoid the disgusting tentacle.

“Avaunt creature! Rest easy, we shall seek thou prey!”

He turns to Vincent and whispers:

“We must play for time, yesno? The monster seeks to feed, so the fine house must be evacuated: from His Lordship to his addled sister in the attic.”

"What is it?" presses William.

"I'm afraid it has chosen you this time, My Lord," says Henry. "It sounds like the poem worked to pacify it for now, but we need a way to stop it for good. What else do you know of the legend?"

Lord Highdark shakes his head sadly.

"The tales are so tangled, that it is no easy task to discern truth from fancy. The thing is said to take on many forms, all monstrous. It is true that several of my ancestors disappeared without a trace in times gone by, but I thought the treacherous moors to blame."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile,evidently grown inpatient, the thing from the pit lashes out with its tentacle.
With all the low animal cunning of those eight-legged creatures which prey upon hapless sailors in distant seas, the tentacle strikes its prey.
The loathsome appendage wraps itself around the unfortunate Frenchman, picking him up as if he were a child's plaything and dashing him against the wall. Seriously wounded, if not yet mortally, Vincent is no longer in fit condition to lessen the being's wrath through the mysterious poesy. Another tremor rocks Highdark Hall.

I. Will. Taste. Altumber. Blood. Or. All. Will. Perish.

Cursing colourfully, Lepus drags the injured Frenchman away from the lashing tentacle.

"Aye, thou shalt have blood," he yells to the thing in faerie. "Thou hast waited many years - permit old Lepus a few more moments."

Assuming the creature allows it, Lepus drags the prone wizard out of the cellar and into the fresh air. He will go in search of the others to seek medical aid for his fellow practitioner of les arts magiques.

When this is accomplished, he will ask if Henry has any more shrinking potion available and if not, would he be able to concoct some quickly?

Then he will request the company of Ivan and William to help him find the mad woman in the attic and carry her hence.

"'tis a dark deed old Lepus must do..." he mutters.

"You mean to offer her to the entity," says William - it is not a question. "Very well, if need be. Too many other lives are at stake to balk at it."

"Alas, aye, should it come to that. Though the creature said 'blood' and nothing more. Either way, if a shrinking potion can be slipped in also..."

"Yes, an excellent plan," says Henry. "Drawing blood is the most basic part of the physician's art, and I haven't used the shrinking draught at all yet, so I can easily mix some in with the blood."

This dark and solemn purpose having been decided upon by the sensate members of the party -- alas, for the wounded Frenchman, dead to the world from the harm inflicted by so unnatural an enemy! -- they see to Vincent's wounds as best may, allowing him the rest needed for recovery -- noting, by the by, a series of small, round, deep red wounds upon exposed areas of his flesh, no doubt left there by protuberances upon the ghastly tentacle, whereby the creature attaches itself to its prey -- and make their way, cautiously, in order to avoid falling to the ground, as the tremors continue, smashing small items of crockery and statuary, scattering volumes hither and yon, and such like chaos, to the hidden room of Elizabeth Altumber, she of the addled wits.

Upon arrival, they find the madwoman, as usual, appearing to be much older than her years, marching about her room, portions of the hem of her ragged gown torn off and arrayed upon her head, in parody of a veil, a smile upon her face. She evidences no surprise upon the arrival, but rather offers an arm languidly.

"Raise high the roof beam, carpenters," she says, in the manner of one reciting a poem. "Likes Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man."

"I fear you must accompany us, Madam?" says William, suspecting the madwoman has divined the company's purpose here, but unwilling to confirm it just in case.

Once he has stabilized Vincent, Henry uses his wondrous healing device to repair the damage.

"Oh the fine lady knows what is afoot alright. 'tis her desire to be wed."

Lepus stuffs the bottle of shrinking potion into a bag, together with a handful of old coins. He bows to the madwoman, before offering her his arm.

"Thou beloved awaits oh bride. Old Lepus has the dowry in this pouch and shall escort you to the ceremony."

The madwoman takes the offered hand with a nod of her head, and accompanies the men whither they may take her. By this time, Vincent has recovered sufficiently to awaken from insensate slumber.

As this strange bridal party makes its way back to the pit, tremors continue to shake the manor home, windows shattering now and then. All within, save the investigators and Elizabeth Altumber, have long since vacated the premises.

Upon arrival at the foul-smelling abode of the creature, the madwoman glances about, seemingly unperturbed.

"Where is the priest? Where is my father? He must give me away, you know."

"Alas old Lepus fears thy papa hast joined the choir invisible. However 'twould be an honour if thou wouldst permit this old wanderer to stand in his stead."

The hedge wizard bows deeply.

"As for a priest, there be none hereabouts, but fret ye not: in my country 'tis often the case that a man of great standing be the officiator. Thou art fortunate to have two such men to chuse from this day."

He nods towards Henry and William.

"'tis also the custom to draw a small draught of blood to prove thy intent to wed - a painless trifle to a keen bride such as thee."

"Doctor Henry North, Earl of Dunwich, at your service, my Lady," says Henry, bowing with a flourish. "I am a physician, and more than qualified to let a little blood. It is good for your health."

"And for my part, it would be my honour and privilege to officiate," says William.

OOC,William does not believe mere bloodletting will sate the creature - he is convinced that this ceremony is a mission of murder, and that as a soldier he should be the one to bear the weight of it.

The madwoman submits to the procedure, evidencing no sign of pain.
As the first withdrawal of blood is made, a pair of tentacles, more slender than that seen before, emerge from the pit and approach the woman, crawling upon the slime-coated floor as if they had legs, wrapping themselves about her person in a manner which suggests tenderness; an embrace to which she responds with a blush and a smile.

Part of Lepus is almost loathe to spoil such a tender embrace, but, mad or not, the poor woman must be rescued if possible.

Avoiding the tentacles, he pours the blood over the pouch that contains the shrinking potion and drops it down the pit.

William follows the role he has taken: "Elizabeth Altumber, do you take this being to be your lawful husband..."

"Ivan," instructs Henry quietly. "Take hold of Mrs. Altumber and make sure she is not pulled into the pit. If that thing tries to pull her in, use your strength to keep her up here and, if you can, remove the tentacles from her."

jp1885 wrote:
Part of Lepus is almost loathe to spoil such a tender embrace, but, mad or not, the poor woman must be rescued if possible.

Avoiding the tentacles, he pours the blood over the pouch that contains the shrinking potion and drops it down the pit.

From deep within the foul pit emerge sounds as of some great beast slurping up liquid greedily. The potion within the offering of blood does not yet evince an obvious effect; undoubtedly it requires some time to be absorbed into the creature's body and work its way into its viscera.

SunlessNick wrote:William follows the role he has taken: "Elizabeth Altumber, do you take this being to be your lawful husband..."

"I do," the madwoman replies, pursing her lips in anticipation of the traditional wedding kiss.

Mr. Handy wrote: "Ivan," instructs Henry quietly. "Take hold of Mrs. Altumber and make sure she is not pulled into the pit. If that thing tries to pull her in, use your strength to keep her up here and, if you can, remove the tentacles from her."

No doubt driven to a nearly superhuman effort by his loathing of the slime-covered being within whose unnatural embrace the unfortunate lady lies, Ivan is not only able to prevent the creature from pulling her into the pit, he is also able to rip the suckers from her body and hurl away the slippery tentacles. At nearly the same time, they can be seen to rapidly decrease in size, as they withdraw into the pit, until not even the sharpest eye can detect them within its hidden depths.

Seemingly distraught, the madwoman makes an effort to follow what she believes to be her betrothed, only to be held back by the might of the Russian's tree-like arms.

"'tis working!" Lepus capers excitedly as the tentacles begin to shrink. "Now to slay the beast!"

Hurriedly he looks around for something to snare or harpoon the creature. If successful he will attempt to spear the thing (although this may simply be a random throw into the dark pit).

"I have my pistol if can be coaxed back into view," says William. He joins Lepus in searching for something that can be thrown into the pool.

“Aye, let us blast the thing to hell, yesno?”

"Indeed," says Henry, readying his own pistols. "Nicely done, Ivan. Don't try to follow him, my Lady," he adds to the old woman. "The cad has jilted you, and he deserves retribution."

After some time spent gazing into the pit, the adventurers realize that neither candle nor lantern can penetrate fully into its hidden depths. Objects thrown into it produce only a faint splashing sound, after a few heartbeats have gone by, and a pistol shot echoes dully, without evident effect. It is obvious that the creature's dwelling place is far, far below.

The madwoman, evincing no distress over, or indeed knowledge of, what has transpired,wanders about without apparent aim.

"Where are my little nieces? Shall they not wish to play with aunty?"

Lepus grinds his teeth in frustration.

“Bah! Mayhap there be another way to the beast’s lair. One more mystery to solve, yesno?”

Mention of the twins causes him some concern.

“Hmm, let us assume the young mistresses are still in thrall to the doll. Old Lepus advises caution.”

"Your nieces are playing outside right now," says Henry. He isn't too worried that that will give too much away. Outside is a very big place. It also occurs to him that perhaps the old lady could be able to take the doll away from the twins.