Play@YSDC

As the clock strikes two, Neil politely ushers his lingering (or malingering) customers out of the pub.

“You’ll be back for the match tonight though, yeah?” he asks you, causing Dominic to roll his eyes.

Izzy - Postmartin has yet to reply to your message…

OOC:   So, what’s the plan?

"Right, Des and I are off to the little church yard to see where old mate is pushing up daisies. Obviously, with you lot around, we want to get done before nightfall when zombies or vampires may no doubt appear." This last is directed at the two coppers.

"But anyone who wants to join us, more the merrier. As merry as it gets in the church yard, filled with graves. And remember, I don't have to outrun the vampire, I just have to outrun you."

Skipper had his little backpack over a shoulder and the sturdy old camera stashed therein.

Des rolled her eyes at Skipper’s mention of the undead, but she did look him up and down, assessing whether she could actually outrun him if it did come down to it…

To Neil - "Sure thing, we wouldn't miss it for the world..." (with a playful wink at Dominic to show she's humouring the landlord...)

While she waits for a reply from Postmartin, Izzy considers their options. "You'll need someone who can sense vestigia there, so I'm happy to visit a cemetery."

She neglects to inform them of her (very) brief goth phase when she was a teenager, along with her love of The Addams Family. She also decides not to tell them that vampires are indeed a thing. Leave that for Frank Caffrey to brief them about...

"Sounds good, another target for the undead. You both may have youth on your side, but I will have great fear and panic to help me leg it."

"Okay, see you then," Leo said grinning. "Looking forward to it."

He joined the huddle and looked back and forth. "I guess that I could do some research on those runes that we found. Does that work for you all?"

"I could go with you," says Jordan. "I could do some historical research about what was going on here in 1982, maybe find out about Lee's death, what happened afterwards, and the skittles team at the time."

OOC:   So Skipper, Des and Izzy are going to the local church? Please make me a group Luck roll.

OOC:   Leo and Jordan, how are you going to conduct your research (Hereford Archive Centre?) and what exactly are you looking for?

Luck roll: 54% (current)

1d100

Excellent, Hard success!

OOC:   The Hereford Archive Centre works. I will be looking for anything local (offline) regarding the pottery and the runes (current runes and previously seen). If they have the internet, we can make a broader search. And my laptop is probably set up for HOLMES 2, so assuming I can get online, I could check it, as well.

"You're welcome to join me, friend," Leo said. There was more than a hint of Pimm's on his breath. "Probably shouldn't drive..."

"I'll drive then, if it's too far to walk," says Jordan. "I only had the one Guinness."

I'll be focusing on periodicals from 1982, especially the local newspaper. I'll particularly be looking for Lee's obituary and any references to him, Archie Buttress, or the rest of the skittles team or the Nennington Arms in articles.

Jordan and Leo

The satnav takes you the most direct route from Nennington to Rotherwas, which means queuing through Hereford's start-stop traffic. Eventually, after crossing the River Wye that bisects the city, make your way to the southern suburbs and thence to Rotherwas Industrial Estate.

Heading down the Straight Mile road, you quickly locate the modern edifice of Hereford Archive and Record Centre.



It is a short walk from the centre's carpark to the large automatic doors and thence inside to a lofty reception area. A small reception booth sits on your left, manned by a young brunette woman. On your right, through another set of doors, lies a large research area, full of tables and shelves.

The young woman looks up at your arrival and smiles.

"Hello; can I help you?"

Des, Izzy and Skipper

Cars and lorries thunder past as you trudge the short distance along the pavement - the main Hereford to Bromyard road, alongside which the Nennington Arms lies, being a very busy thoroughfare. The mist and drizzle through which you drove has yet to abate and so it is some relief that you turn right down a narrow, and much quieter, lane.

The spire of St, Peter's church can be discerned, piercing the gloom, making the building easy to locate among the houses and cottages that surround it. A dark and damp lychgate leads to a small churchyard, from which worn stone angels and mossy Celtic crosses frown down at you among the smaller gravestones. Here and there, more modern stones lie in regimented rows, wilting flowers lying as tribute to those interned beneath.



Just ahead of you, a scraping of gravel betrays the presence of another. Through the mizzle, a dark figure emerges from behind a large stone tomb. Robes flowing as it moves, it heads towards the church, but then stops, as if sensing your presence...

Guessing this is a member of the clergy, Skipper gives a cheery wave and calls out, "Afternoon!" He starts towards the robed figure.

Being a lot more familiar with the demi-monde, Izzy nevertheless is very unsure what to make of the strange figure in the robes, but she's a lot more wary. She's read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, after all. She surreptitiously takes the battery out of both her work phone and her personal phone, and her Airwave radio too for good measure, slipping the parts all back into her bag as quietly as she can. She gestures to the others to do the same, whether or not they notice her, without speaking up in case of trouble.

Izzy also focuses her mind to see if she can sense anything... off about this person.

Sense Vestigia: 60%

1d100

Hard success again!

Des spotted Izzy taking batteries from her phones and quickly did the same. No point in risking it getting burnt out.

She looked at the figure as he approached. Did he think it was Halloween?!

"Thank you," says Jordan. "I'm looking for periodicals from 1982 about Nennington."

Just as they were going in, Leo popped a strong mint into his mouth. He looked at Jordon and grinned. "You know, just in case. I have decided that dating and magic don't mix, but it doesn't hurt to do a little advance planning." He was slightly disappointed to see the young lady, but he gave her the warmest smile he could muster. She could, after all, have a hot brother.

He followed Jordan's request up with a flash of his Warrant Card. "DC Leo Dansby, and Dr. Jordan Schneider. We will do our best to stay out of your hair, I promise. Do you have anything on local pottery history and practices? Oh, and does this look familiar?" Leo showed her a transcription of the rune from the jar.

Leo and Jordan

The face of the receptionist (her name badge identifies her as Lauren) changes from puzzlement to alarm as she sees the warrant card.

"Oh! Um, yeah - please help yourself!" she motions towards the doors to the main research area. "We've been digitising old newspapers for some time now - going back to at least the nineteenth century - you can search on one of the computer terminals. There will be someone at the research desk who'll be able to help if you need it."

She looks at the photo of the urn and shrugs.

"Um, I don't recognise it, but I'm no expert. There are plenty of art and ceramic groups in Hereford though... One sec..." she disappears under the counter for a moment, before returning with a thin leaflet. "Herefordshire Art Society," she announces.

OOC:   When you're ready, Research rolls are in order I think.

Des, Izzy and Skipper

Izzy - You're getting the hang of this Vestigia malarkey! You sense a vague feeling of grief and peace, but nothing untoward. Vestigia is usually generated by strong emotions and violent acts - burials tend to take place after the event.

The figure turns at Skipper's greeting. What you first thought to be robes turns out to be a long black trench coat - a Goth perhaps? Out for an afternoon stroll in the graveyard? But why would a goth be wearing a white dog-collar?

"Oh, hello!" says a middle-aged white woman with a round face framed by grey curly hair crammed under a hood. "I thought I heard someone creeping around. I was just tidying some of the graves."

She marches forward briskly, thrusting out a hand.

"Maureen Shipley, vicar of this parish. You're not local are you? What brings you to our little church?"

Des looked at the woman mutely, then at Izzy. She had the badge so she could explain what they were doing there!

Skipper grins cheerfully, gently shaking the proffered hand. "Awright Rev?! I'm Skipper. I hope we weren't creeping, more walking carefully, being respectful like. This is a beautiful church, by the way."

"My friends and I are doing a bit of a hunt like on that tv show, 'Who do you think you are?' At the moment, we're trying to find the grave of a Lee Snelgrove, passed away in 1982. Buried here, we believe."

Leo smiled reassuringly. He got that look of panic from time to time. "Don't worry. We're not here to arrest you for an overdue parking ticket. Just doing a bit of homework."

Leo took the pamphlet. "Thank you, Lauren. Like I said, we won't be too much trouble."

He turned to leave and then turned back before saying "Oh, just one more thing... Do you have Wi-Fi? I need to connect to the Met VPN."

Research (60/30): 1d100

"Thank you," says Jordan. He sits down at the terminal and before long finds something of interest.

Research roll (60% skill) looking through periodicals from 1982:
d%

Des, Izzy and Skipper

At the mention of 'Who do you think you are?', the vicar can't help but look past you for hidden cameras. Then she tuts at herself, chuckling good-humouredly at her foolishness.

"Oh I do like that programme," she exclaims. "Most of our records have been transferred to the archive centre in town, but we have copies. Come with me please."

She leads you into the church - somewhat gloomy in the low light, with lofty wooden eaves, severe oak pews and an impressive wooden tracery screen bedecked with carved fruits separating the nave from the chancel.

Switching on the lights, she disappears into the vestry. A few minutes later she re-emerges with a large hard-cover book.

"1982 you say? Snelgrove?" She plonks the book onto the lectern and flips through it. "Simons... Slade... Smith... another Smith... Ah, here we are, Snelgrove! Buried Thursday 1st April."

She shows you the entry, which includes the location of his grave.

"Cremated by the looks - this is where his ashes are, just to the left of the path. So you're relatives of his?"

Leo and Jordan

Lauren the receptionist is happy to provide you with the wi-fi password, which is available for researchers to use.

You find nothing about the runes, but a search through the digitised newspaper archives brings up a number of articles regarding Nennington. The following two catch your eye: the first dated September 1983, the other July 2004.

"Well, this answers some questions," says Jordan, "but it raises others. We should compare notes with the others. The pot of ashes must be in the alley somewhere, but we're probably not going to be able to search it before the game."

Izzy certainly doesn't see any reason to give the details, and besides, the masquerade must be upheld.

"Not relatives, we just... have an interest in local history. A friend of ours is part of the Nutters, the skittles team, he mentioned their old captain dying years ago and we wanted to see where he was buried."

As an aside, she whispers to Des, "Cremated, not buried. Your theory might still be right after all."

Skipper nods agreeably with both the Vicar and Izzy. "Poor old soul, died during a skittle comp in fact. Still, it's probably how every skittles team captain wants to go, dying on the field of battle."

"Old Mike from the pub will be interested. Mad keen skittler. I wonder, would you mind if I took a photograph of Mr Snelgrove's grave. Nothing irreverent. I have some pie and mash black and white film, real film, perfect for a proper bit of photography."

"And I have to ask, I like your coat a lot, but it's a bit more Cure than C of E isn't it?"

Still convinced she was right, Des just smiled.

Leo thanked Lauren warmly before they moved away. Sometimes he felt like he overdid the niceties because of The Met's long complicated history with being nice to people in general.

"Hmm. Yes, it does."

He shakes his head. "Or check with the Art Society about the urn. We should probably have a couple of trained vestigia people at the match. I guess those will have to wait."

"That's a thought," says Jordan. "We should also talk to Archie Buttress, if there's time before the match."

Des, Izzy and Skipper

Maureen the vicar chuckles.

"I was more of a Duran Duran girl than the Cure, but don't knock a long, warm coat when you're tending a country cemetery in the Autumn!"

"By all means take your photos. It'd be gauche of me to ask for a donation in return, so I shall merely point out the collection box by the door and leave it at that."

Her eyebrows raise a little at the mention of skittles.

"Oh, so the late Mr. Snelgrove was the skittles captain who died? Sounds very sad - I've heard his story from some of the older parishioners but I never put two-and-two together. Fancy keeling over during the finals eh? I gather he was quite the fanatic, skittles-wise."

Leo and Jordan

Your conversation draws some annoyed glances from some of the researchers, who are used to working in silence. However, you are left to your own devices.

OOC:   What would you like to do next?

"Classic. Hungry Like the Wolf, Wild Boys, Vicars on Film." Skipper heads over to the collection box and drops a £10 note in. "Ayrton, thank you for your service."

"But you're right, there's a streak of the fanatical in some of the skittlers. Mind you, that's nothing to competition Lego, now there's a blood sport. You need bouncers to keep the competitors under control."

Skipper pulls out his camera, currently loaded with black & white / IR, and heads off to find the grave. "Let me know if you'd like a snap or two of the church, Vicar, or a shot or two of yourself?"

"Ladies, shall we?"

Des just shook her head at Skipper’s constant chatter. Her mum’s sister Desiree had had a thing for one of the band - the bass player? She’d raved on about him but when she’d shown Des his photo, it was just an old man who ought to dress his age!

"Let's go back to Nennington and meet up with the others first," says Jordan.

"As a good friend of mine is fond of saying, 'Smells like a plan,'" Leo replied.

Leo closed the laptop first and slipped it into his bag before adding "Archie Buttress" under the "Art Society" that's already under his list of "new actions" in his PNB.

Leo looked around at the annoyed researchers and resisted the urge to flip them off. He got it. When he was trying to translate in his head in the magic library back at the Folly, the slightest noise set him off too. "Sorry," he mouthed as he slipped the chair back under the desk.

"You still good driving?"

Leo and Jordan

As you return to the foyer, the receptionist looks up with a smile.

"Leaving so soon? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Des, Izzy and Skipper

Maureen looks askance at Des and Izzy, cocking her head at Skipper.

"Got the gift of the gab this one," she says. smiling. "Is there anything else I can help you lovely people with?"

"All good, I think," Skipper says to the Vicar. "Errm, we'll be at the pub at half six. Mike's invited us to watch his skittles team play. More the merrier if you fancy a pint."

"Right you two," he looks at Izzy and Des. "Let's go get the photo of Mr Snelgrove's grave."

OOC:   Skipper will follow the directions the Vicar provided to find the grave.

"Sure thing." Izzy gives a cheery smile to the vicar and another one to Skipper, before heading towards the marked location. She feels as if she's let Skipper do most of the legwork here, not really the norm for an actual copper, but to be fair to him, he seems to have built up quite the rapport with the Very Reverend Shipley.

As they walk on, Izzy can't help but give a slightly cheekier smile to Skipper. "So, you two seem to be getting along well, don't you?"

After all, she has her Alice, and she's almost certain that Leo is busy trying to chat up whatever attractive young man is holding the fort at the research centre (oh, if only she knew how wrong she was...). Jordan has already mentioned being married, of course.

"Just need to find someone for you now, Des!"

Des snorted derisively. ”Out ‘ere?! Don’ make me laff! You see any brown faces out ‘ere? Don’ think multiculturalism has made it ‘ere, do you?”

Izzy isn't quite certain if she's put her foot in it or not, but her face turns as red as her hair regardless.

"I didn't... um, I meant... could be back in... London..." She stammers, but after all, neither she nor Jordan have anyone local, their partners are both back home in the city. She struggles to get her point across though as she backpedals out of pure embarrassment.

Skipper laughs gently but cheerfully. Once definitely out of earshot, he goes on. "You realise it's highly likely the nice vicar is happily married with kids, and an aging scoundrel is really not going to tempt her much. Having said that..." He appears to stop himself mid-sentence.

"Anyway, my day job is hunting down information for punters, information they can't get themselves. And I don't have a badge so I can't be lazy. A lot of the time, getting that information means talking to people nicely. Not lying to them, not trying to heavy them, just normal chat."

"I am surprised how susceptible I am to a black coat and white collar though."

He looks over at Des for a tick, no trace of sympathy on his face. "I'm guessing even Hereford is a bit multicultural by now. But even if it isn't, you realise there are young white guys, or girls, who actually might fancy you? Young mind you, not me, I'm old enough to be your dad. Just saying there may be some handsome local out there summoning up the courage to say hi." Skipper heads off grave hunting, looking pious.

"Thank you," says Jordan. "Yes, we found what we wanted." He nods to Leo. "I'll drive."

Des, Izzy and Skipper

The gravestone lies a short distance from the church, set in the ground amid a row of similar stones. It is a flat, roughly 1’x1’ square and inscribed simply: “Lee Snelgrove 1945 - 1982”.

Next to each stone is a small metal vase, again set into the soil. Many hold fresh flowers, but Lee’s is empty.


Leo and Jordan

Once again the sat-nav takes you over the Wye bridge and through the centre of Hereford. Consequently it takes some time to get through the heavy traffic.

Once out into the countryside, the journey becomes quicker and you soon reach the village. With the Nennington Arms closed until the evening, the car park is empty.

The lights are off in the pub, and the door to the skittle alley is open….

"No flowers then. No one to visit the poor sod? Errm, 1945 to 1982," pause for quick counting on fingers. "37 ish? Anyone realise how young he was?"

Skipper takes several photos with the venerable F3 and the arty B&W plus IR film. Then for good measure, he takes a photo with his phone and sends it to the team's group chat.

Skipper stands near the grave and turns a full 360°. "Anyone see this weird ugly vase anywhere?"

"Thanks, mate..."

Leo let the seat back as Jordan drove, closing his eyes for a moment. As a copper, Leo knows take every chance to get a little rest. You never knew when all hell might break loose, especially when magic was involved. As Jordan slowed to turn into the parking lot, Leo went through a rapid decel-awakening, fully alert by the time the car was in park.

"I suppose we should set up appointments with Archie and the Art Society people."

Looking at the open gate, he asked Jordan. "Do you think that we could have missed anything out there? I mean, in the cop shows, the brooding non-conformist investigator always finds something the uniforms missed at the crime scene, right?"

"I think it's possible," says Jordan. "We also didn't know what to look for earlier. But that door shouldn't be open. Something's wrong. Let's take a look."

Des rolled her eyes. Everyone they had met so far had to be at least twice her age…

Leo continued staring in the direction of the gate. "Damn...you're, right. Not exactly observant today, am I? That definitely needs a look."

Silently, Leo rehearsed the through the preparations for fireball in his head. Nightingale told him if he used the spell and people in addition to his own weren't in mortal peril, he would never leave the mundane library again, and he had no doubt Nightingale meant it.

Quietly, he took the lead, crossing the lot as softly as possible. When he reached the open gate, he paused momentarily.

Observation (60/30): 1d100

Jordan follows, keeping his eyes open - or trying to, anyway.

Observation roll (70% skill) approaching the alley:
d%

Leo and Jordan

It's not necessarily what Leo sees that piques your interest, rather what he hears.

"Oh no! What are we going to do?"

Entering the hall, you find Neil Sholto-Jones, evidently in the process of cleaning the tables, on his mobile and looking very concerned.

"I know there's a lot of it going around but I hoped we'd avoid it. Yes, I could ask them I suppose, but they've-" he stops, noticing your presence. "Actually, two of them have just walked in. I'll call you back."

He smiles at you ingratiatingly.

"Just the people!"


Des, izzy and Skipper

The peaceful, if somewhat damp in the drizzle, atmosphere in the churchyard is interrupted by a 'ting' on Izzy's phone. Is this Postmartin at last?

No - it's a voice message from Mike Butterfield (on inspection, you notice the mobile signal around here is very patchy).

"Hiya, it's Mike. Can you tell Skipper I've found a few scoresheets. Dunno if it's of any use, but I thought I'd also give you the details of the chairman of the Hereford and District Invitation Skittle League, Ken Dansen." He reels out an address in Hereford and associated telephone number. "Gotta go, we're hit something of a crisis - bloody flu!"

The message ends.

Skipper seems quite happy breathing in drizzly, chilly air. "Oh dear, flu season. Still, could be worse, anything's better than gastro." He grins.

"So that's two more people to talk to. This Ken Danson, plus Archie Buttress who lives somewhere just around here."

Skipper pulls a black fisherman's beanie out of a coat picked and puts it on. Then he takes a couple of well thought out photos of the church and graveyard. "If I get time to develop these in Hereford, they can go in the donation box. Otherwise, I'll mail them to the nice vicar. Very old school really, film photos by snail mail."

Izzy listens to the message, playing it on speaker for the others to hear as well.

"If this was a proper investigation, all sanctioned and everything, I'd be putting actions on HOLMES 2 by now. Send some uniforms round to read through the scoresheets while we speak to the skittles experts. Although to be honest, I'd be questioning if talking to them would be a uniform jobbie as well. Not sure what information they might have that would be worth our time, but since we don't have people power to rely on I guess we're doing all the legwork ourselves."

There's no trace of bitterness in Izzy's voice, to a degree she does miss some of the more basic jobs of the rank and file constable that she's not had to deal with as much since being made detective, although she notes that the Folly being more separated from the rest of the Met means she and Leo have still had to do the grunt jobs more often recently than normal. She's been a detective (albeit formerly with Belgravia MIT) longer than Peter Grant, after all, but even as a PC he's been with the Folly for much longer than her, so they've joked plenty about the complicated issue of seniority, before Izzy inevitably defers to his greater knowledge of magic and the demi monde...

"Anyway, since it's just us, we should probably talk to them both while we still have some time. What do we know so far?" She begins to summarise the information the trio have so far gathered.

"Lee died in 1982. No friends or relatives who still visit the grave, so our only intel on finding out more about him would be the last member of his old team, one Archie Buttress. Cremated, so no body in the grave, just a location where his ashes were scattered, but there's a weird pot somewhere that's potentially connected, that has a bunch of runes on it. Archie might know more about that. So, if we speak to Archie, we need to ask what he knows about the pot, and learn more about Lee as a person, working theory is that Lee's ghost is helping the current team from beyond the grave. There's also Ken Dansen who runs the local league, not sure what he might know but we can see what comes from a conversation."

Des rolled her eyes yet again. It was becoming something of a habit… ...

”Can we just get on wiv it?” she grumbled, a bored look on her face. ”If dat Archie geezer lives near ‘ere, we can go and see ‘im first.”

It's almost a comfort, seeing the cynicism that Des regularly exhibits. Never change, Des...

"Sure. We can go pay a visit to old Archie. Hopefully he's not so old that he's gone senile by now..."

Skipper, still taking photos, holds up a hand and looks over at Izzy. "Before we head off, DC Strange, are you allowed to use your magic RADAR here? Or is this out of bounds?" The same hand gestures at the graveyard then the thumb points at the church. "Will you get struck down by lightning?" Skipper looks thoughtfully at the grey sky above then takes a deliberate step away from Izzy, careful not to step on anyone's grave.

"Well, I was never religious, family wasn't either, hell, I named my cat after a Norse goddess. Besides, the guv'ner's never said a word about not using magic on holy ground, so sure, I can give it a go. Don't worry about batteries, either. A vestigia check won't affect them."

With that, Izzy does a quick scan of the area, though she doesn't expect to pick anything up given her earlier surreptitious check of the vicar herself.

Sense Vestigia: 60%

1d100

And indeed, find nothing she did!

"Hello," says Jordan. "Let me guess. Some of your players are sick, and you need replacements? I'm not very good at skittles, but I'd be willing to give it a go."

Des realised that Izzy had stopped talking for once and glanced over. She quickly realised what the young detective was trying to do and thought, ”Well, it can’t ‘urt to try. Am supposed to be able to do dis, after all…” She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, trying to sense anything out of the ordinary.

Sense Vestigia (40%) 1d100

1d%30%

OOC:   Nope.

"Awright, let's go say hello to Archie."

"Yes, I suppose I could assist you," Leo said as he walked farther into the area. "Happy to help." Leo remembered his weak round earlier and hoped it would be a little smoother this time around.

"What do we need to do? Is there a membership fee or something?"

Jordan and Leo

Neil grins. “Excellent! Teams are allowed to field new players in an emergency and I’ll pay your league fees. We usuygather six-thirty-ish, so a few hours yet.”

“I’m just giving the place a clean. Feel free to practice, unless you’ve got more research to do.”


Des, Izzy and Skipper

OOC:   What would you like to do next?

"OK, the old lad lives just around the corner from the pub, apparently."

As they amble, Skipper looks over at Izzy. "Right, Voodoo Plod, must be your turn to chat to the POI. I conversed with the cute vicar. And Des is well-challenged when it comes to talking with anyone over twenty."

"No offence, Des, first teenage tear-away we encounter, you're up, front and centre."

Skipper innocently resumes putting a lens cap on his old camera, camera in a case, and case in his backpack.

Leo nodded, listening carefully to the two locals as they explained how things worked. In the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the idea that they might have been up to no good. True, he caught them mid-sentence and they were already scussing the current topic. However, he did his best to read whether they were being forthright or not, and whether they seemed to be hiding anything.

"It's really not necessary to pay my fees," he protested. "But it's appreciated. Burner ph..." he caught himself. "Err...just thanks."

"We should try to find the others," says Jordan. "Skipper would be a natural for the team. He got two floppers in a row when we were practicing. We can continue researching leads they know about that we haven't gotten to yet. We're more likely to run into them that way."

Leo - the only other person in the hall is Neil; the rest of the team won’t arrive for a couple of hours. He seems honest enough.

As Jordan and Leo exit the skittle hall, Des, Izzy and Skipper round the bend and can be seen making their way along the pavement.

Now seems a convenient time for you all to meet up, despite the disparity in the timings (a research trip to and from Hereford vs a stroll around the corner).

"We were just coming to look for you," says Jordan. He fills the others in on what they discovered in their research and the situation with the skittles team being short some players.

When something like that happens, we can just assume a wizard did it.

"Thank you again," Leo said, following Neil out. After taking a moment to examine them more closely, he felt a little less apprehensive.

Leo was pleasantly surprised (and a little relieved) to see the rest. "Perfect timing!"

"Did you all find anything of interest on your field trip? The research centre was disappointingly low on ruggedly handsome farmers..."

"Well, the local vicar is sort of cute. On the other hand, old Lee was definitely cremated and buried in the local graveyard. And not in a big ugly pot, unfortunately for Des's theory."

"We thought we'd say hello to old Archie."

"And do you think they'd let me sub in for the skittles team? Or have you lads filled all the spots already?"

"Don't worry Leo, we'll find a decent guy for you somewhere." Izzy gives Leo a slightly daft grin, eager to see him find some semblance of romance.

"I'm still waiting for a reply from Postmartin on the runes. In the meantime, Mike sent over the details for the chairman of the skittles league. Someone else to speak to along with Archie, last surviving member of Lee's old team apparently."

”’e might still be in the pot,” Des said petulantly. She wasn’t about to give up on her theory just yet. ”Plenty a people get buried in the wrong grave! Jeremy Kyle did a programme about dat!”

"Neil didn't say how many players they're short," says Jordan, "but it's more than one. We could always ask him. You should definitely play, Skipper. You're the best of us, and I'm the worst. He'll even pay your league fees. We should definitely speak to Archie, and we can talk to Mike too. There's still a few hours before the game, and we can cover more ground if we split up."

Skipper's head is drawn to the skittle hall as though by magnets. "Be back in a pie and ..."

In short order he is through the door. "Neil, you got room for another sub? I'm keen."

Skipper, Neil is more than happy to add an extra sub to the roster.

Archie lives in a bungalow a short walk from the pub, while Dansen's address places him in Newton Farm, a housing estate about 15 minutes drive in the northern suburbs of Hereford.

So who's going where?

Jordan is the sober one, so he'll drive the group going to Dansen's place.

Skipper reappears, looking moderately pleased and whistling some naval tune. "Right, I'm happy to go with Jordan to chat with this other bloke, Ken Danson. Leave someone else to chat up Archie."

OOC:   I wrote the first part of this post last night, but never clicked submit. Sorry about that.

"Thank you. I will take all the help I can get. It's not like everyone on the dating apps goes, 'oh, hey! Let's date a cop. They're loaded!

"Skipper, if there isn't an opening, I am also up to negotiating which one of us gets replaced."

Leo takes a couple of practice tosses, throwing an air cheese down an imaginary lane, and then makes the sound of a huge crowd cheering.

"I will be happy to go talk with Archie. Who's with me?"

"That's fair enough!" Izzy laughs. "Maybe try through friends of friends? Alice is my best friend's cousin, that's how we met, and we've been going strong ever since."

Considering the split so far, she makes a decision. "We probably want at least one sworn officer of the law per group, so if you're talking to Archie, I guess I'll come along and speak to Ken then. Although I'm not too sure what info he might have other than wild accusations of cheating."

"As much as I'd like to play," says Jordan, "I'll step aside if there's no room. I'm the worst player of all of us."

With Skipper, Jordan and Izzy already declaring that they were going to visit Dansen, that just left Des to go with Leo to see Archie. She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes and said, ”Looks like I’m comin’ wiv you… …”

"It's your lucky day, my friend," Leo said, grinning at Dez. "I am the brains of this operation, after all..."

"All good," Skipper tells Jordan and Leo, grinning. "There's room for us all as subs, no one needs to withdraw. And I'm telling you, my first results were an epic fluke. Don't expect it to happen again."

He goes back to quietly whistling, now a surprisingly decent rendition of Sir Rod's 'I am Sailing.' Evidently, the prospect of the coming warrior (skittle) clash cheers him.

Once again, time is going to be slightly flexible

Des & Leo

Heading in the opposite direction of the church, it is a short walk around the corner to the address given to you for Archie.

‘Elmhurst’ is a modest and rather shabby looking bungalow, set slightly away from the road. A rusty metal gate leads to the building up a cracked concrete path. Along this runs a narrow, un-mown lawn, from which protrudes a faded plastic child’s slide.

A group Luck roll please (I.e. roll against the lowest Luck score of the group.)

Izzy, Jordan & Skipper

According to the satnav, Dansen’s address is only ten minutes’ drive away. A quick journey through agricultural countryside and up a steep hill lined with fine Victorian houses leads you to a roundabout.

Turning left, driving past a large college of some kind, brings you to a narrower street that winds through rows of soulless 1970’s terraced houses.

As you draw near to your destination, Izzy’s phone rings. It is Harold Postmartin…

Izzy answers her phone, having replaced the batteries earlier after the business at the church graveyard, and puts it on speaker so that the others can hear and input as needed.

"Dr Postmartin, thanks for calling. All okay with what I sent you earlier?"

Jordan looks for the house, and for a nearby parking spot, as he approaches.

As Leo walked next to Dez toward the facility, he could feel time bending, stretching so that the short walk took much longer than it should have. Struggling for a moment to keep his Pimm's down, he looked over at Dez, a little blue around the gills. "I love it when things get wibbly wobbly timey wimey..."

Certain that the time-space disturbance is over for the time being, he resumes his walk normally, breathing deeply a few times until his stomach is back to normal.

He turns to Dez, turning his back to the building. "Seen better days..." he said softly.

Skipper idles the travel time away googling, Facebook stalking and otherwise searching social media and the wider Internet for any references to Ken Dansen, chair of the local skittle league.

1d%H60%

OOC:   Just in case. Extreme success.

Des & Leo

You ring the doorbell and after a minute or so, see a figure shuffling towards through the frosted glass of the door.

It cracks open slightly and a wrinkled, weather-beaten face peeps through the gap.

"Hello? What d'you want? I ain't buying anything mind." says a quavering, yet deep voice.


Izzy, Jordan & Skipper

You pull the car over, finding a space on the side of the road a few doors down from Dansen's address.

Skipper, you find his Facebook profile, but it's set to private. However, it does lead you to the Facebook page of the Hereford and District Invitation Skittle League (https://www.facebook.com/HerefordSkittles).

Most of the posts are about the latest match results, changes of venue and such. However you do notice something interesting in the comments of one match report. It covers a recent home match between the Nutters and another local team, the Tattibogoes. The Nutters beat the Tattibogoes comprehensively, causing some members to post comments about 'cheating bastards'. Someone also replied 'Not a new thing. They've always cheated. My dad swears they used to do black magic!'

Izzy, Postmartin breathes a sigh of relief when you answer.

"Ah, DC Cooper! Yes, I received the photograph. Took me a while to get it enlarged, but as soon as I saw those runes I felt most troubled. You're familiar with the Whitechapel vandalism? Striking parallels."

"Anyway, I've done some research and have found something troubling in Al-Jahiz's treatise on Bishr ibn al-Mu‘tamir - Hart's nineteenth century translation of it anyway."

"There's a description that almost exactly matches your photograph. Al-Jahiz retells a legend that this urn was the possession of a Central Asian sorcerer who attempted to attain immortality. This fellow devised a ritual where certain important personal items, strongly imprinted with his vestigia, could be burned and then placed in a stone urn, subjected to black magic rituals and carved with symbols of occult power. In the event of their death, part of the essence that lingered in the burnt items would be concentrated and amplified by the urn, creating a revenant spirit."

"Yes, that's correct - a revenant. I trust I don't have to tell you how dangerous this is..."

Des nudged Leo to indicate that he should do the talking. He was the copper, after all… …

I think we should put a post on the Hereford & District Skittle League Facebook group and ask for clues…

Skipper reads the Facebook posts aloud. "Well, it does line up with the whole 'Use the Force, Luke' skittles unfair advantage thing. Personally, if I could do that, I'd choose to win the lottery, not a bloody local skittles comp."

"You're good enough at skittles you don't need the help," says Jordan, "but I wouldn't do it either. I don't really know anything about revenants. All I know is it's someone who doesn't want to stay dead, and that can't be good."

Leo smiled warmly as the older man opened the door, doing his best to engender trust. His pulse always went up a notch or two before he pulled out his warrant card. Most of the time, everything went fine, but every once in awhile, you get someone with a genuine skeleton in their closet, unrelated to the case at hand, that slams the door in your face...or worse.

Steeling his nerves, he smoothly slipped out his warrant card. "Oh, we're not selling anything, guvnor. Good afternoon, DC Leo Dansby here, and this is my colleague, Destiny. We just wanted to have a chat with Mr. Archie Buttress, former skittles star player for the Nutters. Maybe get an autograph. You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?"

On hearing Postmartin's words, Izzy's blood runs cold. Though she's never seen a revenant before, she's all too well aware of them.

"Harold, are you absolutely sure?"

She turns to the others in her seat and explains briefly, "A revenant is a type of ghost that comes back for revenge against someone or something. I have no idea what Lee's ghost might want revenge for, if it is him, but they feed on the magical force in other people. Like Leo and myself. If this is a revenant, we're dealing with something really dangerous.

"Harold, can you get a message to Nightingale, please? He needs to know, if that's what we're up against."

It's clear to anyone listening, the tremor in her voice. Normally unflappable and the cheeriest one of the group (and that's saying something), it's telling just how shaken Izzy is at discovering that a revenant may be involved here.

Skipper looks completely unperturbed, and may even be smiling slightly. "The worst that's happened to me since scoring this gig with your guv'nor - and long may it last and pay - is I got hit in the face by a book. Didn't even bleed. I get worse bruises every week on training night at the gym. I'm sure Jordan has copped some much fiercer bollocking playing rugby."

"Bring on your 'reverent ghost'. By the way, the late Lee the skittle captain didn't sound like he had much to be seeking revenge for. I mean he died young, but it doesn't sound like nobody's fault, does it?"

Des rolled her eyes. ‘Pulls out ‘is warrant card an’ den ses ‘e’s ‘ere for an autograph… …’ She shook her head.

Not the biggest fan of splitting the action into spoiler tags, but probably best given the circumstances...

The old man squints suspiciously at Leo's warrant card, then both of you in turn.

"What're you waffling on about? I ain't in trouble am I?"

I think Social rolls are required

.

"I have never been more sure DC Cooper," replies Postmartin. "And please tell whoever I can hear scoffing at the notion just how dangerous these entities can be!"

"Naturally I have already contacted Thomas. He and young Grant are somewhat indisposed, alas. You are to locate and secure the urn, but please be careful!"

"Maybe he wants revenge for his death," says Jordan. "Could there have been foul play involved, or does he blame someone? If we can identify his target, we'll be in a better position to stop him."

Leo's Reply

Leo shook his head to indicate that there was no trouble involved. "No, far from it, I assure you," Leo replied. "Des and I were just wanting to have a little chat with the Nutter's star player from back in the day. You are not in any trouble, I promise."

"While we are here, I don't suppose we could trouble you for a cuppa?"

Social (30/15): 1d100

Just in case I get a Bonus Die for showing my Warrant Card: 1d10

"Assuming he even has a target..." Izzy's mind is racing as she tries to reassess all the information they have so far, from all sides. She takes the opportunity at Harold's urging to reaffirm to Jordan, and especially to Skipper, how dangerous revenants can be.

"Look, you've seen small fry so far. That genius loci in the bookshop, that was like a domestic disturbance. Easy to deal with, almost no harm done. Plod work. A revenant is like... I don't know, like getting an Airwave call that someone's running down Whitehall with a machete, slashing anyone who goes near. It's nowhere near the same league. When we say a revenant is dangerous, we're not messing around."

She's still clearly worried, but she sounds a little calmer now. More in control, taking charge. "I've never dealt with one before, they're new to me too. But our first priority needs to be the urn. Find it, secure it, like Dr Postmartin said. We can worry about the whys afterwards. If we're lucky, maybe Dansen will know more about where it came from and where it might be now."

Skipper looks remarkably unfazed by the threat of supernatural assault. He seems actually quite cheery. "OK. Can we get the proton packs the ghostbusters had, then?"

"Meantime, let's go talk to Ken. Maybe he knows where the pot is? Actually, if we find it, can we just smash the crap out of it? Would that solve the problem?"

"And is Ken any relation to Ted Dansen?"

"Something tells me it won't be as simple as smashing the urn," says Jordan. "That might even make things worse for all I know."

Skipper sighs. "Pity. I love a good urn smashing."

The old man opens his door a little, looks at you each in turn and chuckles.

"You're both bloody daft for police officers," he says. "Come on in - I'll put the kettle on, then you can tell me why you want to talk to me about bloody skittles."

He shuffles back into the bungalow, leaving the door open for you to follow him into the hallway.

"Sitting room's first on the left!" he calls, presumably from the kitchen, judging by the sound of clinking mugs.

The interior of the place is a little less shabby than the exterior. Family photos line the walls: a younger Archie with wife, children and later grandchildren.

"Lucky for you my Rachael came 'round yesterday or the place'd be messier."

"As far as we know this urn is the only one in existence," Postmartin snpas, listening in on the conversation over the phone.

"And there is no guarantee that whoever made the artefact doesn't still linger in it. I need to do some more research and continue in my attempts to contact Thomas. Remember that it is possible that this thing presents a danger to the public, just like the Covent Garden incident. I am not your superior, so I will not command you, but I advise you to proceed with extreme caution."

And with that, he terminates the call.

A couple of cars swish by and on the pavement next to where you are parked, a young woman walks by, pushing a pushchair.

"Trust me on this, guys. We do not want to smash that urn. If it's containing something, then all you'll be doing is smashing the container, not the thing inside. If it was that easy to stop a revenant then we'd have nothing to worry about. Like if you smash a bottle, it doesn't just get rid of all the water inside, right?"

As Dr. Postmartin hangs up, Izzy immediately grabs her phone back to send a quick message to Alice. She's not sure how things will play out, but she is somewhat overcome with a need to get in touch with the person she cares about most. She tries to dress it up as if she's just making sure that Freya's been fed and the litter tray cleared, but it's clear that there's a hidden worry between the lines.

"Alice, she's... um, staying at my place while I'm away. Easier than travelling from Whitechapel twice a day just to feed the cat."

Text sent, Alice puts her phone on silent as they pull up, purely for the sake of professionalism. "Oh, and I'm pretty sure Ken Dansen has never had anything to do with the star of Cheers. Probably."

"I thought as much," says Jordan. "I'll follow your lead. You know more about this sort of thing than I do."

Skipper holds his hands up in surrender and looks at Izzy with a decidely unapolagetic grin. "You know, you voodoo types are really easy to rev up. Just pretend not to take you seriously, light the fuse, stand back."

"I will, I promise, take due care with the killer ghost, as requested. Now, let's go talk to Ted."

Leo laughed as he stepped through the threshold. "Well, I will admit that isn't the first time someone has called me that. You know, these days, you sort of have to be a little daft to actually want to be a copper."

Leo learned the "get invited in" trick from Peter, so while he doesn't veer from the direct path to the kitchen, he does spend extra time surveying the scene and getting a sense of person. Leo's dad always says you can learn a lot about a person by the contents of their bookshelves, so if there were any shelves, he took his time there, as well.

Shuffling back to the kitchen, he shook his head. "I had to do a wellness visit on a hoarder one time. This place looks great..."

"Rumor says you were pretty keen at skittles when you played for the Nutters..."

Observation (60/30): 1d100

A cursory glance of the lounge reveals nothing out of the ordinary - merely another room that's clean, if a little shabby and dated. Lived-in, shall we say.

Archie returns, pushing a small trolley upon which are three mugs, a pot of tea, a jug of milk and a small bowl of sugar.

"Didn't know how you takes your tea, so I bought everything." he says. "Got some biscuits in the cupboard next to you love," he continues, nodding at Des.

Grunting a little, he settles himself into an armchair.

"Why you askin' about skittles then?" he asks. "Ain't played for years - not bothered about that new lot - bunch of townies coming here and buying up the village. What've they done to get the police involved?"

Maybe it's your imagination, but the wind feels somewhat chillier when you exit the car. Dansen's address is a few doors' down - a nondescript 1970's terraced house with a small, well-kept garden at the front. Nothing seems particularly amiss as you approach the modern PVC front door.

"Well, here we are," says Jordan. "Shall we knock?"

"I think so, yeah." Izzy steps forward, readying her warrant card to show the occupant, but she can't help but shiver as she proceeds and knocks on the door. "Does it feel colder to you two...?"

She tries to be more aware of what's around her, trying to sense out anything strange that might be affecting the area. It could just be the wind, of course, but these past months spent at the Folly have taught Izzy that it's always better to be careful even if the explanation is mundane eight out of ten times...

Observation roll: 60%

1d100

OOC:   Oh, damn...

Skipper puts his black fisherman's beanie back on, and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. "All yours, Voodoo Plod." He politely stands back, out of Izzy's way.

"If you feel like the interview is going pear-shaped and you want us to tag-team in, just casually drop the safe word into conversation and we'll know. Today's safe word is 'Xanadu'."

Leo liked a lot of sugar in his tea, but he knew that, when being hosted, it was probably best to keep it to two spoonfuls, so after stirring thoughtfully for a moment, he answered. "Well, it's just that, being a big skittles fan, myself, of course, I'd heard of the Nutters. And word is at the pub that you were one of the stars..."

"Des and I would love to hear anything that you could tell us about the team from back in the day."

"Now that you mention it, I do feel a chill," says Jordan. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Archie looks confused by Leo's question.

"Well... not much to say really. We used to play okay I suppose. Our old captain was very keen and got us playing pretty good eventually. The he died and we packed it all in after that. Why's this a police matter though? It was natural causes."

Izzy, your keen eye spots... nothing of interest. Maybe it's the thought of dealing with a very dangerous entity that gives you the chills, as nothing seems untoward.

After a few seconds, the front door opens to reveal a short, stout, middle-aged man.

"No, I don't want to buy anything," he says laconically as he looks you all up and down. "My windows are already double-glazed, I'm not interested in letting Jesus into my heart and/or whatever political party you represent: you're not getting my vote."

Before the door opens, Izzy thinks to herself that she needs to change Skipper's personalised ringtone on her phone, specifically to Rogue Traders' Voodoo Child. Here come the drums...

As the door opens, Izzy is prepared for the statements from the occupant as readily as he gives them - almost as if she's used to knocking on people's doors to speak to them, and knows the usual spiel from sheer experience...

"That's good then, we're not selling anything, and glad to hear you're already saving money on your heating bills. I'm actually an atheist, and I'm pretty sure that given my occupation I'm not technically allowed to canvass for any political party anyway."

She holds out her warrant card, showing it for long enough that the person at the door can verify it as being genuine, but not quite long enough for him to register that she's part of the Met, and thus technically well outside her jurisdiction. Oh well, if he questions anything she can always make up some excuse for being here in the sticks. Joint operations with West Mercia Police or something.

"I'm DC Cooper, these are my colleagues, Mr Skipper, and Dr Schneider. Don't worry, you're not in any trouble, but we're looking into some strange circumstances revolving around a certain urn that we believe might be connected to criminal activity. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions?"

Izzy's tone is that of consummate professionalism, such that it's clear that although she is asking politely, the only agreeable answer would be acceptance of the normally unwelcome intrusion of the Crown's finest...

Jordan observes his reaction, trying to get a read on him.

Spoiler:

Read Person roll (60% skill) about Dansen (if this is him):
d%

Skipper is focused on being unobtrusive and non-threatening. He does keep his eyes open for anything that might make a nice photo.

Leo paused for a moment, staring off into the distance as though he were hundreds of miles away, only to shake himself back to the here and now. "Well, yes. Natural causes, of course. Not making any accusations along that line."

"However, having said that, there was some letter to the editor about...hmm, what was it?" Leo paused, pretending to search for the right word while he knew exactly the term. He took a sip of the tea, "Oh, yes...black magic! Poppycock, right? Everyone knows magic isn't real."

Archie gives Des a 'look'.

"Well bully for them! Perhaps they've been practising a lot." he says.

To Leo, he sighs.

“Not that black magic rubbish again! That was just some silliness really. After Lee's funeral we thought it’d be a nice send-off to take all his rulebooks, score sheets and the like and burn them. We stuffed the ashes in an urn and left it in the alley as a tribute. Thought it’d be nice to have him sort-of watching over us."

"But after a while we kind of lost heart and packed it in. Who wants to play on an alley where someone’s died anyway? Then some silly buggers started accusing us of doing black magic and that kind of made our minds up really.”

Jordan, being an excellent judge of character, can tell that the man's defensive demeanour crumbles at the presentation of izzy's warrant card.

"Oh! Um, come in," he splutters, stepping back to allow you access.

"My name's Ken Dansen, by the way - no relation before you ask," he babbles. "Shall I put the kettle on?"

"Thank you kindly," says Jordan, stepping inside. "Like DC Cooper said, there's no need to worry. You're not in any trouble."

Skipper pulls his beanie off as he comes in. He tries to hide his disappointment at not meeting a relative of Ted's.

"Oh yeah, please, I'm parched. I could murder a proper cuppa."

Pleased at the offer of a cuppa, Izzy is all smiles as she enters. "That'd be great, thanks. Tea for me please, milk, one sugar." She resists the urge to ask for 'Tea, Earl Grey, hot' - recalling a similar occurrence on a previous house call that had resulted in DI Stephanopoulos rolling her eyes and gently reminding her in the car back to Belgravia that such pop culture references aren't the most appropriate when speaking to a grieving widow about her murdered husband's extra-marital affair.

As the trio head inside, Izzy allows her eyes to wander around, such that anyone watching would think her to be idly interested in the décor, but with just enough focus to try and spot anything particularly interesting about the house, and especially to learn more about its occupant...

Observation: 60%

1d100

Des, Archie shrugs at your question.

"I dunno. We used to keep it on a table in the alley, but I don’t suppose it’s still there now – that new landlord probably threw it away when he did the place up.” he says, before pausing for second in thought.

“Didn't Wobbly Clarke got it from some old junk shop? Yeah, that was it! Old Wobbly would tell you, if he hadn’t moved to Aberystwyth a couple of years ago. And then died.”

Somewhat placated, Ken disappears into the kitchen and busies himself with the tea, giving you time to take in your surroundings.

Which, to be honest, aren't very interesting. If the living room is representative of the rest of the house, it's clearly a middle-aged bachelor pad, and a modest one at that. There are no feminine touches that you can ascertain, although, to Ken's credit, the room is reasonably clean.

Izzy, under a coffee table, you spot a box folder, labelled 'Skittles', next to a pile of luridly coloured magazines.

"I won't be a sec! Just gotta clean a couple of mugs - don't usually have so many visitors!" Ken yells, amid the sound of a sink being filled.

Leo tried not to get too excited when Archie mentioned the potential location of the vase. He nodded agreeing with the old man, "Yeah, it's probably gone, but at least we did get some information about what was inside it. That could be more helpful than you think. Thank you for that.

Leo sighed when he heard the old man died. "You wouldn't believe how often I hear that in this business. You know, too bad there's not some way to talk to dead people. Did you see 'Pushing Daisies'?" he asked the two. "Man, that would make our jobs so much easier."

OOC: Is Leo familiar with any rituals involving burnt items of value to a person being placed in a magical urn?

"He seemed awfully nervous," whispers Jordan. "I think he may have something to hide."

Spoiler:

"Tea. Earl Grey. Hot" was actually the opening line of my character Liz Penhaligon, who frequently made such references.

"That tends to be the case when people see a warrant card," Izzy whispers back. "Everyone has something to hide, even me or you. I've never walked into a house and shown this without the occupant being nervous even if they've done nothing wrong. The hard part is finding out if what they're hiding is relevant to the case in hand."

Seeing the folder, Izzy wonders if she'll have enough time while Ken is making the drinks to sneak a quick look. She goes for it, flipping it open and doing her best to skim through the contents, narrowing her search simply to any reference to an urn. She doesn't have time to actually read the papers inside, but flicks through, looking for the words to jump out at her, or even better, perhaps a picture.

Seeing what Voodoo Plod is up to, Skipper nonchalantly heads to the kitchen.

"Let me help, Mr Dansen, I'm a whiz with a tea towel. One useful thing I learnt in my Navy days, maybe the only thing. Least we can do to help though, as we are imposing with no notice. You wash, I'll wipe."

OOC:   Skipper's plan is to ensure the other two are well warned when he and Dansen return with the tea.

SaintMeerkat wrote: ↑Thu Apr 20, 2023 4:53 am DC Leo Dansby.jpg

Leo tried not to get too excited when Archie mentioned the potential location of the vase. He nodded agreeing with the old man, "Yeah, it's probably gone, but at least we did get some information about what was inside it. That could be more helpful than you think. Thank you for that.

Leo sighed when he heard the old man died. "You wouldn't believe how often I hear that in this business. You know, too bad there's not some way to talk to dead people. Did you see 'Pushing Daisies'?" he asked the two. "Man, that would make our jobs so much easier."

OOC: Is Leo familiar with any rituals involving burnt items of value to a person being placed in a magical urn?

Please make a Magic roll. A hard success I reckon.

Jordan helps Izzy look through the folder's contents, now that Skipper is keeping Dansen busy.

Leo, you can't think of anything about burnt items and vases (unless you want to spend 30 luck to make it a Hard success).

The old man looks as bewildered as Des.

"I wouldn't know nothing about that.” he says. “I dunno what the new landlord did with the vase, even if it was still there. Perhaps that builder feller threw it away when he bought the pub... ooh... about twenty years ago? Before he supposedly killed himself anyway.”

He grunts, apparently scoffing at this notion.

Izzy and Jordan, the folder contains various records, score sheets and league tables; all appertaining to the local skittles league. It's all rather dry and uninteresting, although it does highlight how well the Nennington Nutters are doing, with convincing wins at every home game.

Also, tucked under a copy of The Stranger Times magazine are a couple of letters of complaint from other teams, accusing the Nutters of cheating, although no-one seems able to provide any hard evidence of this.

In the kitchen, Dansen grins nervously at Skipper.

"Cheers... Um... I hate to be rude, but what's this all about exactly?"

Jordan checks to see at what point the Nutters started winning at home, though he has a pretty good idea it was 1982.

Leo made a few notes about the described contents of the jar in his PNB before slipping it back into his pocket. "Yeah, I saw the news article about the builder. Nasty business, that. Are you not buying that story?"

"Hang on..." he interjected, picking up his phone and texting Izzy and Nightingale. Do either of you know anything that could go horribly wrong from burning a bunch of personal items important to someone and placing the ashes in a magic jar? I am drawing a blank.

"I am so sorry..." Leo took a sip of tea. "Now...the builder...why did you scoff like that? I recognize that noise you just made. My Gran makes it every time I lie to her."

Skipper is dilligently and meticulously drying cups, not overly quickly though. "I'm only the civvy photographer, Guv, the boss is the young lady plod in the other room. But you don't need to panic or anything, you are just a possible witness, or maybe you can help us with some info, point us in the right direction like. You're not a suspect or nothing like that. On my honour as an old navy lad." Skipper frees up a hand to give Dansen a quick salute.

"Anyway, this is all just about a missing big pot. The DC will explain." He resumes drying of dishes.

Leo, while you text, Archie frowns at Des.

"Just like my grandchildren - always on the bloody phone...” he mutters.

When Leo has finished, the old man ponders the question.

"Well, they reckon he had money troubles - that's why he ran in front of that bus. But I ain't buying that - he was pretty well known around here and it was common knowledge he was doing alright - just landed a big contract up in Birmingham. All he was gonna do was turn the pub into housing, knock down the skittle alley and build on the plot. Plenty had done up old buildings in the village before and plenty have done it since."

Skipper, Dansen waits patiently for you to finish drying up, his face a picture of bemusement.

"Pot? I don't know anything about drugs! Never touched the stuff."

Jordan, looking at the records, the Nutter's fortunes appear to improve at the start of the 2016 season, the same year they moved to the Nennington Arms.

Suddenly, Izzy's phones alerts her to an incoming text from Leo.

"Do either of you know anything that could go horribly wrong from burning a bunch of personal items important to someone and placing the ashes in a magic jar? I am drawing a blank."

As her phone, still on silent, buzzes, Izzy can feel the vibration through the soft leather of her bag, and wishes (not for the first time) that women's clothes came with actual pockets. She takes it out, half expecting it to be a text from Alice, ready to mentally file it under 'reply later', but when she sees the sender is Leo she realises it must be something relevant. She reads through it, and racks her mind for anything that she may have picked up from the Nightingale, or from Peter, about that sort of magic.

"Jordan," she whispers, "carry on looking for anything useful, but be quick. They'll probably be done with the tea soon."

Magic: 60%

1d100

Jordan nods and continues his examination of the records, making sure to put them back before the tea is done.

Izzy recalls the conversation with Harold and immediately fires a reply back to Leo, detailing the discussion and her thoughts. She hopes that he takes the revelation of a potential revenant a lot more seriously than Skipper did, given that Leo is the only other person in the team who would fully grasp the risks and implications.

As Jordan puts the records back, ideally as they had been originally left, Izzy asks him for a quick update of anything relevant that he may have found.

"By the way, I'm not expecting that Mr. Dansen knows anything about a potential revenant, but then again you might have your own ideas on what he could tell us. To be honest, I'm just hoping he has an idea of where it might be now."

That is, she sends to Leo the spoiler'ed 'For Izzy's eyes only!' info

Skipper snorts, politely amused. "Actually, not pot as in weed, spliff. An actual pot. What the Antiques Roadshow tv boffins would call an urn."

He sighs as he finishes the drying. "Ah, Fiona Bruce, I have always had a soft spot for her."

"I'm not sure," whispers Jordan. "He stopped being defensive as soon as he saw your warrant card."

Leo knows he lost a few points with the geezer for the phone use, so he rests it on his knee, allowing him to know when and if he hears back.

"Yeah, good point. The people rolling in it aren't usually the ones to top themselves. It's the people who get sacked or get some terminal illness. Not Terrance Skinner."

Leo leans in, doing all of the "I'm listening to you" techniques they teach you at Herndon, but he can't help but glance down when the phone vibrates. "I am so so sorry...hang on just a minute..." When Leo reads the reply, he begins to get a sick, cold feeling in his stomach.

"Mr. Buttress..." he paused, trying to stay calm. "Do you remember..." Leo swallowed. "Do you remember if that developer died before or after you and your friends put the ashes in the urn?" He looked at Des and back at Archie. "Take your time."

Leo decided that his colleague would appreciate this information sooner rather than later, so he opened the text, scrolled to the top of the pertinent part, and passed it to Des while they waited for Archie's response.

After he had already handed her the device, his strategic error suddenly became clear. Please, God, don't let me get a match on Grindr while Des has the phone.

Once again, Archie huffs as Leo checks his phone.

"Oh, long after. Poor Lee died in 1982; the builder died... ooh, about 2003? 2004? Summat like that."

Skipper, Dansen looks even more confused.

"An urn? Um, okay... Well, let's get these teas made and you can explain - 'cos I'm lost!"

Des looked at Leo’s phone, brow furrowed as she read the message. She looked up at Archie.

”’Ere, do ya remember any Asian fellas hangin’ around when ‘e died?’ she asked bluntly.

"Thanks, Mr. Buttram. That makes me feel better."

The fact that years passed between the two events causes Leo to relax visibly, sitting back in the chair. He looks thoughtful as he takes another sip of the tea. If there were a revenant on the loose, the body count would be a lot higher than just one, and it would have occurred closer to the "ceremony."

Leo saw where Des was going with her question, so he took a deeper sip, waiting to hear the response. When Des is done with the phone, he takes it back, texting Izzy and Nightingale. "Conditions may be right for that to occur, but location of jar is unknown."

Skipper grins as he helps with the tea. "Best leave the explaining to the boss lady, but all will become clear I'm sure. Honestly, I couldn't explain even if I wanted to anyway."

He calls politely in the direction of Izzy and the Doc, "Tea in one minute."

Des & Leo - Archie waves away Leo's offer of help.

"No, our Rita's coming 'round in an hour ; she'll sort this lot out."

What do you two want to do next?

Izzy, Jordan & Skipper

"Someone's nicking antiques?" responds Dansen. "Well if someone's bringing the league into disrepute, I sp'ose I'd better look into it. Which team do you suspect? What evidence do you have?"

Skipper - The room looks pretty much like a single man's living room, if somewhat tidier than the norm. A quick glance at the shelves shows a number of collectable figurines and there's a few sci-fi novels lying around, but from your seat, nothing jumps out as particularly unusual.

"Cheers," says Jordan. He helps himself to some tea, deferring to Izzy to explain it.

Skipper offers everyone a biscuit, gives Dansen a reassuring nod, but otherwise stays quiet and waits for Izzy. He does enjoy a biscuit and his cup of tea though.

"Thanks, really appreciate it." Izzy takes her mug of tea and adds a spoonful of sugar, and takes a biscuit for good measure, dunking it without a moment's hesitation. She quickly checks her phone to see the latest from Leo, then glances to her colleagues, trusting that they'll know to stay quiet about the supernatural side of things, as she comes up with a plausible lie that isn't so far from the truth as to be completely unbelievable.

"We've been asked to make some routine enquiries regarding what we believe to be stolen property, specifically a fairly valuable urn. Last known to have been in the possession of the local skittles team, but we have reason to suspect that it was bought without the purchasers realising it was originally stolen. The sellers were based somewhere down in Cornwall, and the original owners have made a complaint that was passed on to us."

She sips her tea, and pauses for a moment, hoping the story doesn't sound too out of left field, before continuing. "As I said earlier, you're not in any trouble, but we're speaking to a number of local figures who may be able to assist us. Would you happen to know the item that we're referring to, at all?"

Des shrugged and looked at Leo. ”’Got any more questions?’ she asked him.

Jordan listens as he enjoys his tea and biscuit.

While Dansen is being grilled, Skipper sits enjoying his tea. He feigns boredom and casually runs his eye about the room, looking mostly for framed photos, or anything else curious or interesting.

Lee made a few more notes in his PHB before slipping it back in his pocket.

"No," Leo said as he lifted the cup to get the last few drops. "I don't. Thank you so much, guv'nor, for allowing us into your home and for the tea. Your answers have been very helpful. Can I help you with the..." Leo gestured to the cups and teapot. "It's the least I can do..."

Des & Leo - Archie waves away Leo's offer of help.

"No, our Rita's coming 'round in an hour ; she'll sort this lot out."

What do you two want to do next?

Izzy, Jordan & Skipper

"Someone's nicking antiques?" responds Dansen. "Well if someone's bringing the league into disrepute, I sp'ose I'd better look into it. Which team do you suspect? What evidence do you have?"

Skipper - The room looks pretty much like a single man's living room, if somewhat tidier than the norm. A quick glance at the shelves shows a number of collectable figurines and there's a few sci-fi novels lying around, but from your seat, nothing jumps out as particularly unusual.

"No, it's..." Izzy sighs. The last thing she wants to do is draw attention to Mike or the Nutters, especially as the case was down to his tipoff to begin with.

"Nobody in the local league has done anything wrong. Whoever stole the item, it happened down in Cornwall, nothing to do with here. The thieves were caught by the Devon and Cornwall Police, they're in custody already, we're just trying to trace the stolen property to return it to the rightful owners. It was sold on at least a few times over several years and now we think it's around here, whoever has it now likely has no idea it was ever stolen."

Izzy knows she's grasping at straws, but the aim is simple - find out if Dansen knows anything about the urn, and where it might be. Unless the others have anything they might wish to find out as well...

jp1885 wrote: ↑Fri Apr 28, 2023 8:44 pm

What do you two want to do next?

OOC:   Des is wondering how soon she can dump these weirdos and get back to London… Other than that, are there any more clues for us to follow up?

Jordan says nothing, just listening and observing. This is Izzy's play, so it's up to her where to go with this.

Skipper sips tea to hide a smile as Dansen battles Izzy to take charge of the questioning. He occupies himself reading the titles of the books in Dansen's bookshelf from their spines.

SaintMeerkat wrote: ↑Sun Apr 30, 2023 6:15 am

OOC:   Has anyone looked at the scoresheets that Mike located? Leo and Des could take a look at that.

OOC:   Go for it. Skipper was planning to run some computer analysis to see what that might show but in the meantime a smart member out the team might just be able to look at the sheets and make the same assessment with brain power alone. Chances are, the same conclusion will be reached, namely that the Nutters do much better at home.

Once they are outside the OAP's place, Leo looks over at Des and grins. He opens up his bag and pulls out the stack of scoresheets. "Just in case..." he said, confidentially.

Once again, Leo gets a little green as everything in the setting gets all timey-wimey, but this time he is ready to seize advantage of it. To the rest of the world, Des and Leo are moving too quickly to be seen as the two of them head back to the vehicle and split up the sheets. Again, in timing that would have even impressed Gandalf, they arrive at the solution in precisely the amount of time that is required for the other party to finish up.

"You know..." he nodded knowingly in the instant the others arrived, "Have you noticed these guys seem to win a lot at home?"

Izzy, Jordan and Skipper

If it's possible for Dansen to look even more confused, he does so now.

"Um. Sorry, but I fail to see how Cornish thieves who have already been caught relates to a Skittles league in Hereford! We buy our trophies from a shop in town - cheap metal trophies, not antiques."

He downs his tea.

"Sorry to be rude, but I really can't see what this has to do with me or the league. Now - I've got a lot to do, if you don't mind..."

Des and Leo

Studying the records, it's clear that the skittling fortunes of the Nennington Nutters really improved when they moved to the Nennington Arms pub. Their scores during away games at other fixtures are mixed at best, while they romp to stunning wins during home matches.

Everyone

As the afternoon wears on, the thin light wanes to herald the evening. The time has come to return to the pub - it's match time...

Stepping outside, Izzy waits until the door is closed and the unfortunate Mr. Dansen is out of earshot before venting her frustrations to the others.

"Well, that was a complete waste of time, except for the tea and biscuits."

Truth be told, she's not sure that the fellow had any leads to offer to begin with - after all, they had only picked him out as a person of interest due to Mike passing on his details in the first place. Why they had ever thought he might have some useful information, Izzy had no idea.

Instead, she thinks about the information so far gathered, as the wider team regroups and heads back towards the pub. The key factor being that the urn, dangerous or not, must be somewhere in the vicinity of the pub. Whether on open display, or hidden somewhere in a back room, the urn is the key. They can look into the whys and whos after the urn itself has been secured...