Play@YSDC

Mr. Tereshchenko only please,As is befitting of the dignity of a first-class carriage, you pass the journey in genial silence. You spend your time watching the grey autumnal countryside barrel past as, eventually, the gentle rocking of the carriage causes you to nod off… [i]A cold wind whips around the ruins, stirring dark, cobwebbed corners and howling through a star-filled void that was once the church roof. An icy cold causes you to shiver. Battered wooden pews creak and the very stones seem to pulse with freezing malice as the walls close in on you. You turn, desperate for a way out. And there – warmth! You feel it on your back, freeing up your seized joints as the winter sun melts icicles under frozen gables. You turn to face a stained-glass window, miraculously intact among the ruins. Suffused with a golden glow you make out the figure of a saint. He smiles down at you as behind him a field burns with life-giving fire. But then the flames flicker, blown out by the malicious gale that rages around you. The saintly figure raises his hands, imploring you for aid. But you can do nothing. The window fades into shadow as darkness engulfs you. From out of the deep blackness something shuffles and you can only look on in horror as-[/i] [color=red]“Worcester Foregate Street! Change for Malvern, Ledbury, Hereford, Pontrilas!”[/color] You wake with a start as the guard walks along the aisle. Dazed, you rise automatically and allow yourself to be jostled out of the carriage and onto the platform. You only really come to your senses as you clamber onto the next train, where you find your other companions sitting together in a slightly less salubrious carriage.

Prof. Garrett only please,As is befitting of the dignity of a first-class carriage, you pass the journey in genial silence. You spend your time watching the grey autumnal countryside barrel past, before the stuffy warmth of the carriage causes you your eyelids to droop... [i]There is little sunlight this deep into the woods. Occasionally filtering through the treetops it pierces the darkness here and there, illuminating the path you are following. Before you an elderly man, clad in a tweed suit and sturdy walking boots, urgently beckons you onwards. You follow as best you can, stumbling through the undergrowth and tripping over roots and fallen branches. Ahead of you the man stops. Standing erect with a noble bearing despite his advanced age, he points at something in the woodland gloom. You squint, eyes more used to reading ancient tomes by candlelight straining to make out the object in front of you. It is large, irregularly shaped and covered in moss – a megalith of some kind perhaps? Suddenly a strangled cry causes you to turn. The old man falls to the ground, clutching his chest. A cold wind stirs among the trees, whipping up the leaves as, one by one, the lances of sunlight snap off as if some malign force is slamming the shutters closed. As the shadows advance you try to run, but your feet are entangled with briar and bramble. Panicking, you begin to struggle as, deep within the undergrowth, something crawls towards you. You can only look on in helpless horror as-[/i] [color=red]“Worcester Foregate Street! Change for Malvern, Ledbury, Hereford, Pontrilas!”[/color] You wake with a start as the guard walks along the aisle. Dazed, you rise automatically and allow yourself to be jostled out of the carriage and onto the platform. You only really come to your senses as you clamber onto the next train, where you find your other companions sitting together in a slightly less salubrious carriage.

Miss Knight only please,Settling as best you can in your seat,you close your eyes, only to open them again, startled, as something brushes against your cheek. [i]Your first thought is that Mr. [b]Pritchard [/b]is being untoward, but you quickly realise that it is not the disfigured soldier that touches you, but some kind of dirty white thing, flapping in your face. You wave your hands, frantically trying to brush the thing away from you, but it continues: flap flap flap. Increasingly panicked, you notice other things closing in around you – the same dirty white sheets, flapping and twisting as if pummelled by a strong current of air. You step back, staring through the whirling things to focus a dark figure in their midst. Clad in tattered black robes, it waves it’s arms, mimicking the movement of the sheets. Or is it? You get the feeling that he's actually dictating the movement, as if bewitching a ballet somehow with magical choreography. Suddenly the figure stops and, looking past you, points a trembling bony finger. You turn to see a wall of inky black shadow moving slowly towards you. As it passes the sheets, they drop lifeless to the ground. Soon the shadow is nearly upon you. You try to scream but the foetid air makes you gag. You can only look on in helpless horror as-[/i] [color=red]“Worcester Foregate Street! Change for Malvern, Ledbury, Hereford, Pontrilas!”[/color] You wake with a start as the guard walks along the aisle. Dazed, you rise automatically and allow yourself to be jostled out of the carriage and onto the platform. You only really come to your senses as you clamber onto the next train, where you find your other companions sitting together in one of the carriages.

Mr. Pritchard only please,Miss [b]Knight[/b], dozing as she is, makes for poor company. Left to your own thoughts, you spend your time watching the grey autumnal countryside barrel past; before the rocking of the stuffy carriage causes your head to drop... [i]Fwooom! You instinctively duck as a bullet fizzes past your head. Damn Boer snipers! Crump! Bent low, you rush forward as a shell bursts behind you. Another bullet, smacking with a wet crack into someone to your right. You must find cover or you’ll be next! Fear pushes you on – the glorious charges you dreamed of in your youth have no place in this squalid patch of veldt. Someone wounded screams nearby. Suddenly you fall, headfirst into a donga. Sheltered by the steep walls of the dried-up watercourse, you finally have time to take stock. Bloody Boers! Where did they come from? There is a groan a little distance away as a bloodied figure stirs. As it crawls along the dusty riverbed you notice that this is no wounded khaki-clad soldier, neither is it a bandoliered Boer commando. It is [b]Lewis[/b], his lewd face shining through the blood in exultation of his wounds. With a look of sheer bliss he reaches towards you with the remains of his arms. No, reaching past you. You turn to see the water that should be running along this course boiling away, as if it’s journey has been halted by some invisible wall. Lewis groans again, a moan of pleasure twisting his shattered mouth into a rictus grin. You can only stare transfixed as his wounds widen, the bloody holes of gore darkening into black voids, out from which billow columns of black smoke. The man collapses to the ground as the smoke, stinking with the smell of a thousand bloated and flyblown corpses, coalesces into a shape. You scream and is lunges at you and-[/i] [color=red]“Worcester Foregate Street! Change for Malvern, Ledbury, Hereford, Pontrilas!”[/color] You wake with a start as the guard walks along the aisle. Dazed, you rise automatically and allow yourself to be jostled out of the carriage and onto the platform. You only really come to your senses as you clamber onto the next train, where you find your other companions sitting together in one of the carriages.

Whitehorse,Interesting idea. If Miss Knight is happy for you to read her tea leaves, please make POW and Occult rolls. If you get a hard result on both, then I’ll call it a success.

Keeper only,[dice]0[/dice]

Miss Knight only,You can't help taking a look at the tea leaves as you pass the cup, but to your untrained eye the whole thing is just a messy collection of splodges. Is that horned thing a cow? Those little blobs footprints? Is that bit a mound of some kind? Let's hope your dark knight can shine some light on this!

Everyone,Luck rolls please.

OOC,Luck roll (80% stat) on the train: [dice]0[/dice]

Luck = 45%,[dice]0[/dice]

Secret rolls,[dice]0[/dice]

Mr. Tereshchenko,It has been many years since your grandmother taught you to read the leaves. Nevertheless you definately feel that there is some kind of pattern, lurking in the bottom of the cup. There are small specks around the outside - suggesting some kind of journey if you remember correctly? There is also a pyramd-shaped blob - a temple or somesuch? Perhaps most disconcertingly, there, right in the centre of the cup, is a face - long and horned. You don't need your grandmother to tell you who that represents...

Prof. Garrett,You squint at the photo, supressing a gasp. Can it be? Surely this is impossible! If this photo is accurate, the late [b]Squire Barneby[/b] is [i]exactly the same man as the one you saw in your dream![/i] Please make a SAN roll and deduct 1 SAN if you fail.

Prof. Garrett,The fellow in the paper (and your dream) was the late Squire Barneby, not the new squire Perryman :)

OOC,I’ll give you a little more time before arriving at the cathedral.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Success,While most of the guests in the foyer go about their business without a second glance in your direction, you do notice a young fellow sitting in the corner of the room, trying to look inconspicuous as her peers over his newspaper at you.

Spot Hidden 55%,[dice]0[/dice]

OOC,Spot Hidden roll (55% skill) in the hotel: [dice]0[/dice]

Miss Knight,For a split second, out of the corner of your eye, you are sure you saw a white cloth flapping about in the same unnatural manner as in your dream. As you turn however, you see it is merely a fellow sitting in the corner of the foyer, adjusting his newspaper. The effect is enough to startle you however - please make a SAN check (0/1). OOC: This may seem rather severe, but you did roll a 99...

Spot Hidden (25%),[dice]0[/dice]

Knowledge (85),[dice]1[/dice]

Mr. Lewis,Harrison and Yem are a local law firm. According to the newspapers, they represent the late Squire Barneby against Major Perryman, who is contesting the fellow's will. No doubt your new compatriots know more about this.

OOC,Sanity roll (current level 80) for the apparation: [dice]0[/dice]

Secret Keeper rolls - no peeking please,[dice]0[/dice][dice]1[/dice]

Keeper Only,STR [dice]0[/dice]CON [dice]1[/dice]DEX [dice]2[/dice]SIZ = 50 MOV = 7 DB = 0 Speed roll [dice]3[/dice]

OOC,The man passed his initial CON, keeping his MOV at 7. Speshul failed his, dropping his MOV to 7, thus giving each chap 1 move action per round. I’ll use the 2nd roll as a DEX, thus you avoid the gawkers.

OOC,I’ll have to time this so that I keep up the pace of the chase without leaving the rest of you out. For now, by all means engage in conversation while you are in your cabs. May I ask, who is in which cab?

Group luck roll,[dice]0[/dice]

DEX roll,[dice]0[/dice]

OOC,Yes, that's the cab I would have boarded, as I was already there talking to the cabbie.

Mr. Pritchard,You practically leap over the slippery patch, maintaining the distance between you and the miscreant. Thankfully the alleyway is short, opening out into another street. [spoiler]Keeper rolls - [dice]0[/dice][dice]1[/dice][dice]2[/dice][/spoiler]Looking ahead, you see him crash into a fellow on a bicycle! As the cyclist, swearing like a trooper, disentangles himself, your quarry lies still; his head bleeding from where it obviously hit the ground.

Mr. Pritchard,[ooc]Ok, looking through all those dice rolls and deciding what's relevant, I see a success on first aid and spot hidden.[/ooc] Thoroughly alarmed by the sudden appearance of the apparition that is you, the cyclist hurriedly picks up his bicycle and backs away, muttering about 'maniacs', 'lunatics' and 'fetching a constable'. He limps away as quickly as possible, leaving you to inspect the miscreant you've been chasing. He is a young man, rather slight in build, but tough, wiry and obviously a working-class fellow. He has a nasty gash to the head, but it doesn't appear very deep and you are able to stem the bleeding with a handkerchief. As you fumble for your belt the fellow groans. On the pavement opposite a small number of people are gathering outside a pub, watching you warily and muttering among themselves. You spot one or two of them breaking off from the group and running off in different directions.

Luck 60%,[dice]0[/dice]

Credit Rating (99),[dice]0[/dice]

Keeper only,Odds Tom, evens the other fellow[dice]0[/dice]

Appraise 60%,[dice]0[/dice]

Mr. Tereshchenko,Despite the look of alarm from Mr. Yem, you handle the vase. Judging by the marks underneath and indeed the overall workmanship of the piece, it is obviously the modern reproduction it’s owner claims it to be. It is still worth a pretty penny, but is nowhere near a priceless antique artefact.

Success,You recall that the word 'scheld' is a Middle English (i.e. from after the Norman Conquest to Medieval times) word for 'shield'.

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

OOC,History roll (60% skill) about the Scheld: [dice]0[/dice]

Lets try a psychology roll,[dice]0[/dice]

Keeper Only,[dice]1[/dice]

History (40%),[dice]0[/dice]

Hard EDU (42),[dice]1[/dice]

Keeper only,[dice]0[/dice]

SAN = 50%,[dice]0[/dice]

Persuade 50%,[Spoiler-Button][dice]0[/dice]

Luck (30),[dice]0[/dice]

Psychoanalysis (01%) (lol),[dice]1[/dice]

OOC,CON roll (50% stat) for the weather: [dice]0[/dice]

Con = 60%,[dice]0[/dice]

Con (55),[dice]1[/dice]

Luck (60),[dice]0[/dice]