[IC] Chapter 2: Hereford

[Mr. Handy]

"It looks impressive," says Cynthia, admiring the cathedral through the carriage window.

[jp1885]

Hereford Cathedral is indeed an impressive edifice. Even shrouded in drizzle and half-obscured in the fading light, it looms over the buildings that surround it.

As your carriage pulls up on Broad Street, the driver announces that he will take your luggage the short distance across the thoroughfare to the Green Dragon hotel. After you alight (Miss Knight no doubt being helped down by her chivalrous companions), he turns the carriage around and parks on the other side of the street, much to the consternation of other drivers.

After a short while, a young, rather well-dressed gentleman ambles up to the party.

Mr. Lewis,This is where you come in. Your uncle, Wentworth Leigh, is the Dean of Hereford Cathedral. Determined that you will do something constructive with your life, he has asked you to leave your gilded estate on the border with Worcestershire and assist this odd group from Eton with their investigations. For starters you must show them to your uncle's office, located in a large red-brick building just across the courtyard from the cathedral. Alas he has told you nothing of their task as of yet.

[Zero]

Henry Joseph Lewis III strode through the mist towards the newcomers that had alighted into the center of town. He inwardly wondered what sort of point his uncle was trying to make by giving him a task so far beneath his station. Surely this was something better suited for a servant, but here he was. The dilettante drew up the collar on his overcoat and approached to within reasonable speaking distance of the group.

"You lot must be the Eton party. My uncle Wentworth has requested that I meet you here. He's waiting for you in his office." he announced, then forced a smile.

[Mr. Handy]

"Thank you," says Cynthia, returning a genuine smile to the handsome stranger. "That's us, all right. I'm Miss Cynthia Knight."

[LTD1969]

"Henry Garrett. Pleased to meet you I'm sure."

Professor Garrett does not offer to shake hands.

[Whitehorse]

Grigori raises a querolous eyebrow.

"Well... I hope our arrival hasn't inconvenienced you... Have you been waiting long in this dreary drizzle?"

"Perhaps you know Major Perryman? Or the dear departed Barneby, the cause of our travels...?"

[jp1885]

OOC:   Mr. Lewis, let’s say an EDU roll for your knowledge of said persons. I’ll allow a bonus die considering your wealth and social status.

[speshul]

Tom extends his hands and shakes it then drops to the back of the group to observe his surroundings and his new group.

He keeps his bedroll and pack close and helps with the loading and unloading as he has done all journey.

His hat his pulled down and his collar and scarf. His facial scars are still obvious for those that look closely.

[Zero]

Henry Joseph Lewis III made no effort to shake anyone's hand, and merely glanced at the outstretched hands of those who had made such an overture themselves. To
call it an Inconveniencee would be putting it lightly, but he imagined that to speak of that now would be ill advised. He suspected that his words would swiftly make their way to his uncle's ears, and that wouldn't do at all. However, the names they had spoken of were a tad bit familiar to him, but he gave no indication of that to the strangers.

"There will be ample time to converse later. Right now we would all be best served to remove ourselves from the chill." he said, turned and gestured towards the building where his uncle was waiting.

Education (85),[dice]0[/dice]

Bonus Die (1d10*10),[dice]1[/dice]

[jp1885]

Mr. Lewis,As far as you recall, [b]Desmond Barneby[/b], the old squire of Wergyn Hall, was a typical example of the country gentry. You knew little about the fellow, save that he was very protective of his lands. You met the new squire, [b]Major Perryman[/b], at a social function a few weeks ago. He seemed depressingly similar to any other of the nouveau riche. A factory owner from the West Midlands, you remember him being quite ill-mannered and rather abrupt. What little conversation you had with him consisted of him complaining about the draughtiness of Wergyn Hall and his difficulty in sleeping.

Mr. Pritchard,Thankfully, most people seem to be wrapped up in their own business to take any notice of you or your scars. You receive one or two quizzical glances, but nothing more than you'd receive at Eton or Windsor high street.

Young Mr. Lewis leads you around the venerable behemoth of the cathedral, along a short cloister and across a small courtyard to a side-building. Soon you find yourselves in the office of Wentworth Leigh, Dean of Hereford Cathedral.

In contrast to the dispiriting drizzle outside, Leigh's rooms are warm and cosy. Illuminated by the amber glow of lamplight is the man himself, clad in every-day clerical robes. He looks up from his work and beams - his lean, cadaverous face breaking into a friendly smile.

"Ah, the mysterious people from Eton - here to give my nephew something useful to do at long last! I gather that old duffer Preedy has sent you on some errand or other regarding Wergyn Hall?"

Before you can answer, a servant appears from a side door, pushing a trolley of sandwiches, cakes and a pot of tea.

"Oh yes, capital! As the day is drawing to a close, I thought a little supper would be in order. Please, help yourselves and pray tell me what this is all about."

[Mr. Handy]

"Thank you," says Cynthia, "that would be delightful!" She pours herself a cup of tea and takes a sandwich. "I'm Miss Cynthia Knight. I work at the library at Eton. The Provost assigned me to assist these gentlemen in their inquiries. It seems that the Provost has recently inherited some property here, though he did not know the deceased. It seems that the deceased must have been referring to his predecessor, whom he did know, in his will."

[Whitehorse]

"And to be quite frank, Dean, it seems that there may some supernatural or spiritual aspect to the inheritence that we are keen to get to the bottom of..."

Grigori takes a large draft of tea, and slice of cake.

[jp1885]

Leigh blinks with surprise at the mention of the supernatural, but is polite enough to largely keep his own counsel on the subject.

"Well, er, indeed? I will of course provide whatever assistance I can, short of performing any exorcisms I'm afraid. I'll ensure that you have access to our chained library tomorrow, plus there's always the municipal library across the road if you're looking for something more secular."

"I'm also happy to furnish you with any introductions to local worthies - I always find legal business such as inheritances and the like always goes a little smoother if you can drop the odd name or two. If you think of anyone you'd like to talk to, by all means let me know."

[Zero]

Henry Joseph Lewis III casually moved about the stagnant office while the guests exchanged pleasantries with his uncle. As the minutes passed, the young dilettante appeared to be rather uninterested in the goings on and was occasionally seen brushing a small amount of dust from one his uncle's underappreciated objects of intrinsic wealth. However, when the man with the heavy Russian accent spoke of a possible supernatural connection to their pending investigation, he quickly turned to face the man.

"Truly? The supernatural? Straight from the works of Charles Dickens? Is that what you believe is at work here?" he queried with mock bemusement in his voice.

[Mr. Handy]

"I wouldn't know," says Cynthia. "That is why we are here, to investigate and find out what is going on. Thank you for your generous help. I'm sure I'll take you up on the offer to peruse your library. You must have a fascinating collection. We would like to speak to Major Perryman at some point as well."

[jp1885]

The tea and cake is rather good, but only goes some way to assuaging your hunger (considering how little you've had to eat today).

"Well, I'm not acquainted with Major Perryman, but I can write a letter of introduction - even in these modern times the word of a clergyman still has some weight in this part of the country."

Leigh sighs, wondering how impolite it would seem to be candid with the party.

"As for the supernatural... The Bishop's opinion is very much in line with the Church, to wit: believing in such things is foolish at best and dangerous at worst. All I can do is urge caution. On paper this seems to be nothing more than a legal dispute, so I suggest you treat it as such. Banish all thought of the, er, paranormal, from your minds."

He leans forward, his angular jaw tight against the thin skin of his almost skeletal face.

"That is my official advice at least. If, of course, the supernatural is real, then I would still urge caution. But, if you are pure of heart and true to your faith, your prayers will be your shield against such things..."

He sits back suddenly, as if the last few seconds haven't happened.

"Well, if there is nothing else I can help you with, then I shall detain you no further. Our library will be open for you tomorrow morning and until then I daresay your rooms are ready by now. The Green Dragon is an excellent hotel and (what is the time? Half six?) dinner is at seven. Nephew, I have taken the liberty of arranging a room for you too - I doubt you'll want to journey back to your stately pile this evening, hm?"

"Alas I cannot advise you how to fill your evening - you'll find this place rather provincial compared to what you're used to and alas we offer little in the way of diversion - save, I'm led to believe, a healthy number of public houses. No doubt you will find something to while away the hours though, hm?"

Unless anyone has anything else to say, the good Dean will wish you a pleasant evening before returning to his work.

You are escorted from his rooms and out of the Cathedral confines, finding yourselves back on Broad Street. A typical autumn evening has now set in: dark, dank and rather chilly. Thankfully the street lamps are on, lighting your way across the street to where the merry lights of the Green Dragon Hotel blaze invitingly.

A few people pass you by; some dressed for dinner and others of a rougher sort heading to the various pubs nearby; but you are largely ignored by the good people of Hereford as the doorman of the hotel welcomes you in.

Across a warm and sumptuous lobby you are shown to the main desk, where the small, neat concierge peers at you from over his pince nez.

"Yes? May I help you?"

[LTD1969]

"Hello my good man, I believe a party named Preedy has reserved rooms for us at this no doubt charming establishment."

[Whitehorse]

Grigori is rather restless, tapping his fingers and examining his new surroundings with some impatience, as the minutiae of lodging and dining arrangements sort themselves out. In a hiatus, he turns to the young aristocrat.

"So, young and haughty Lewis, if your life and stately pile are elsewhere, what brings a lively chap like you to your uncle and the Green Dragon? I'll wager not the desire to spend more time with your delightful uncle... Is it something you would like from him, or that he wants from you...?"

Grigori smiles what he hopes is an ingratiating smile, and attempts to charm the young man with his candour...

Charm 40%,[dice]0[/dice]

[speshul]

Tom has been quiet the whole time, watching, observing and trying to hide his discomfort. At the Green Dragon he checks on their luggage and supplies.

Once done he will head back down the others and sit at the edge of the group, keen to listen to any ideas they have and attempt to formulate a usable plan from what he expects to be range of absurd, unrealistic and half baked ideas.

[Mr. Handy]

"You're not related to the Mr. Lewis who works at Eton's library, are you?" Cynthia asks Henry, hoping he's not.