Play@YSDC

Steadman's Warehouse - Limehouse, London, England
10:00 AM - Wednesday, September 11, 1940

Story, Phyllis, Eugene, and Anna left the hospital and made their way to the Steadmans' warehouse in Limehouse. It looked less menacing and more ordinary in the daylight, though Eugene could still feel something inside - and beneath - tugging at him. A pair of middle-aged men in Home Guard uniforms, one tall and thin, the other short and fat, stood guard in front of the main entrance, rifles held against their shoulders.

Fighting the urge to run screaming from the vicinity, Eugene nudges Phyllis.

"Time to start the offensive Mrs.C: over the top armed with tea and buns."

Flask of tea him hand, he takes a step forward, smiling at the guards.

“Right you are.” Whispers Phyllis. She strides forward and exclaims in her best loud busybody voice,
“Good morning, Gentlemen! Mr Thomson and I, as part of the W.I. Directive, are administering victuals to our gallant Home Guard.” She looks about the area,
“This won’t do, Eugene, could you set the flask up over here on this flat wall.”
She hopes to lure the guard away from the entrance so the others can gain access.
“Although I don’t know how ourselves will sneak in.” She whispers to Eugene.

Persuade,70 roll:73

Anna hangs back, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible while observing Phyllis and Eugene's efforts.

"God bless you, ma'am!" said the short, fat soldier.

"We can't leave our post, ma'am," said the tall, thin one, "but we'll be happy to feast if you bring everything over here."

OOC, [b]Eugene[/b] and [b]Anna[/b] may also try Fast Talk or Persuade.

Fast talk 65 extreme success,Tolled an 11 https://www.dholeshouse.org/Tools/DiceVerifier?RID=95c4c18d-e0a7-4f44-9f7c-aa8a7b37e909

“Half a mo mate! You don’t expect us to carry this lot any further do you?” says Eugene, grimacing. “What with my sciatica and Mrs. C’s... well, best not discuss a lady’s health problems, hey? Listen, why don’t we keep an eye out, then you can help yourself?”

He turns to Phyllis.

“Are you sure you want to give these buns away? They’re the best batch you’ve made I reckon; I’m minded to take ‘em home...”

“Lor’ bless you, Mr Thomson, but I haven’t won three regional baking finals in a row for nothing you know.” Phyllis replies in her loud voice.
“ Now these fresh buns are just for our bravest. You pour out that hot tea why don’t you and I’ll post myself just here while the gentlemen have a well deserved break.”

Phyllis lets Eugene entice the Homeguard and she staunchly stands in the entrance clasping her huge handbag.

"It won't hurt anything if we take a little break," said the fat soldier.

"Okay," said the other one. "Thank you, ma'am. You can keep an eye on the entrance for us while we eat. Just make sure nobody goes inside. The building's unsafe."

The two of them hurried over to the where the tea and buns had been set up, and they began to feast. They were paying no attention whatsoever to anything else.

Phyllis makes a small movement with her hand to signal the others to move inside if they can.

“Listen Mrs. C,” whispers Eugene. “That thing in there is waiting for me; I can feel it. Why don’t you stay out here where it’s safe? You can keep the guards occupied and carry on the fight if things go pear-shaped.”

Anna signals back to Phyllis that she understands, gestures to Story and then darts into the entrance.

When Anna tried to open the warehouse door, she found that it was locked.

“You’re too considerate, Mr Thomson. But one is urged to do one’s duty and I feel that to see this through is mine.
And if it is indeed waiting for you then you’ll need all the help at hand.” Phyllis whispers back.
When Anna can’t gain entry she whispers,
“Are we sure this is the only entrance?”

The Home Guardsmen were so preoccupied with their meal that they didn't even notice when Phyllis and Eugene joined Story and Anna at the front door. "There is a rear entrance," whispered Story, "but I'd expect it to be guarded too." He inspected the lock. "Yes, a simple dead bolt lock. Easily manipulated. Allow me." He took out a strange-looking narrow cylindrical device, pointed it at the lock, and pressed a stud on it. A soft, eerie sound emanated from it, followed by a thunk as the lock disengaged. Story opened the door, revealing a hallway stretching into the distance. There was a door nearby on the left, and a series of three doors on the right, spaced some distance apart. At the end of the hall, it went around a corner to the left. "I've been here once before. We want the last door on the right. That's where the stairs going below are."

Eugene nods in agreement, having also gone the same way.

“Promise me one thing,” he says to everyone as he steps through the doorway. “Don’t let that thing... dominate me, I suppose the phrase is. Put me out of my misery if need be.”

'Don't talk like that Eugene, we'll get through this together, no putting anyone out of their misery unless they're some bat-thing.'

She takes out her electric torch and walks inside. 'Thats quite the lockpick you have there Mr Story' she says disapprovingly.

"I didn't design it to pick locks, but as a generally useful tool," said Story, entering and lighting his torch, which did not have a hood. "It just happened to be good at dealing with this particular type of lock. It's called a sonic screwdriver. I'm what you might call a boffin. Shall we proceed to the door at the end, Doctor?"

'Sonic screwdriver? I'm not sure those two words go together' says Anna. She follows Story to the door.

"It uses sound waves to manipulate physical objects, such as screws," said Story, leading the way down the hall and opening the last door on the right. There was a small card table in the middle of the room. Behind it was a stairway leading down, the only other exit from the room. It was dark down there.

Eugene almost leaps back from the dark stairway.

“I-it’s down there...” he whispers, fumbling for his flashlight.