IC: Chapter 1 - NEW YORK, Starts 12th Jan 1925

[Maksim Rukov]

Maksim hesitates before turning around. His eyes are a little red, though there's no immediate evidence of tears. With his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he looks like a sulky child waiting for his mother at the school gates. "Why?" he asks slowly, suspicion written all over his face. Then he realises that Caroline wasn't the one to have said it and the look of suspicion melts into a happy smile.

The thought that hid beneath the rest of his thoughts was somewhat light and eager, only partially crushed by the terrible incomprehensive lack of Timourness that filled the area.

Of course, strange girls just love me... Why, so long as I just keep travelling, everyone'd love me... A shame Doctor Dullard is coming along.

He smirks and glances at Caroline as the Doctor Dullard part flitted across his consciousness. He was being childish, he knew, but it made him feel a little bit better. Besides, if she were any kind of a doctor she would have stuck by Timour's the side the way she would have by other patients... Oh wait, no, she was a doctor! Not someone who cared ... like a nurse.

He wondered what Ewa would look like in a nurse's uniform.

[Decrepit]

Caroline sees that Ewa was probably out here to meet Maks after all, and she has no desire to interfere. She realizes that Maks has gone through a traumatizing experience and that he could use a bit of a pick-me-up ... or pick-her-up, as it were. She stuffs her hands in the coat pocket and is about to beg off the walk when she notices the gun that Johnny must have left in the pocket. The coat had felt a little heavy, but she hadn't paid attention until now. It couldn't have been an accident; Johnny must've wanted her to have it. She grew a bit colder still, and wrapped the coat more tightly around her.

Maks is going to think I'm a fool for coming along, but Johnny must have had his reasons ...

She trots along after the other two, a few steps behind, trying not to feel self-conscious or as if--somehow, impossibly--Maks and Ewa can see that she's carrying a gun.

[Raiko]

Miskatonic University Campus, Arkham, Massachusetts
7:45pm - Monday 19th January, 1925

Ewa is delighted that Maksim has joined her for the walk, and relieved that his hasty departure from the dining table may not have been her fault after all. As they stroll ahead of Caroline through the snow covered university campus, she asks the dashing Russian mercenary what his roll is in Miss Downing's little band.


Inside Professor Cowles' Bungalow - Pickman Street, Arkham, Massachusetts
7:42pm - Monday 19th January, 1925

Much rejuvenated, positively gleeful, Johnny leans forward. "Can you tell us anything else about this 'bat-gang'? Obviously we're not anthropologists but I've some experience with immigrant gangs and smuggling and we've access to some of Elias' notes. We don't understand all of it, you may be able to help shed light on some of it."

Anthony nods enthusiastically, "I could certainly try to help you; do you have Jackson Elias' notes with you? Perhaps I can make sense of them?"

"I don't really have any information about the contemporary Sand Bat cult, if it even exists, other than MacWhirr's diary. Whoever they are though, the aborigines that MacWhirr encountered appeared to have been unusually determined to press their attacks on his party. And the weapons used seem to match those of the ancient Sand Bat cult, rather than traditional aborigine weaponry."

[Grafster]

Johnny nods. "Yes, I think that Maksim has them. They are, ah, a touch discombobulated. But any insights you might be able to share would be appreciated."

[Maksim Rukov]

"I'm the getaway driver," Maksim says with a wan smile. "No, actually, I'm just the chauffeur. Just part of the staff, really."

[imme]

"Of course, we would be most appreciative of any help you could add in decoding his notes. They become ... difficult to understand," Elizabeth replies.

[Raiko]

Professor Cowles looks first though the neatly presented set of notes made by Jackson during his trip to Kenya, he nods several times, as if agreeing with Jackson's assessments:

"You see! Jackson is sceptical of this Johnstone Kenyatta's theories about the Cult of the Bloody Tongue, if such a thing exists, it's likely just a cover for bandits."

In another set of the Kenyan notes Jackson follows up the Kenyatta interview, confirming with several other good sources that the Bloody Tongue cult does exist, "fascinating, fascinating..."

"Kidnappings, sacrifices, great-winged creatures, fascinating." Cowles looks up from the notes, "I must say that I have never come across either this Cult of the Bloody Tongue, or the Mountain of the Black Wind before, but the conspiracy that Jackson has uncovered is certainly intriguing."

"Do you plan to follow this investigation into Africa? It seems that Jackson found this man Sam Mariga in Nairobi particularly helpful, do you have any idea what rr-sta could mean? Also Jackson is convinced that the true reason for the Carlyle expedition's sudden departure for Kenya is something that they discovered in Egypt, rather than illness as the press speculated. Did Jackson ever learn what this was? I think that it's important that you follow up that lead, it could shed light on later events in Kenya, and would doubtless make your task easier if you choose to travel to Kenya."

When Cowles reaches the notes discussing Jackson's interview with the mercenary 'Nails' Nelson, who claims to have seen Jack Brady alive in Hong Kong in 1923 he exclaims loudly, "Bloody Hell! Could this be true? If Brady is still alive, then what of the other white expedition members? Lt Selkirk stated that no white bodies were discovered at the massacre site, could they all still be alive? But why the secrecy, if Brady survived then why stay hidden for so many years?"

Then Cowles looks at the last set of notes made by Jackson, those written in London only a month or so ago, "Good god..."

The professor shakes his head as he furiously attempts to compare the hand writing of the two sets of notes as if to confirm that they are indeed written by the same hand.

"...How could this be? What could possibly have happened to poor Jackson during those four months to cause such a change?" Eventually returning to Jackson's disturbing London notes Cowles studies them for some time hoping to make some sense of them.

"Hmm, Jackson says that they all survived! The expedition presumably, but what does he mean 'they'll open the gate,' what gate?"

"Look this looks like it might be a name, 'Insp Barrington,' inspector perhaps?"

"And here Jackson writes 'The Scoop,' there's a London tabloid called The Scoop." Cowles chuckles, "I've read it once or twice myself, it's hardly highbrow stuff, but it's certainly the paper to read for conspiracy theories, monsters, or all details of bloody murders."

OOC: There's a couple of new clues, I'll move back to the hotel (and then onto Boston) tomorrow, after you've had chance to reply. I'm feeling much better now, so no more delays.

[Grafster]

Johnny listens avidly to the Professor, vigorously jotting down notes in his little notebook with a pencil stub.

[imme]

Elizabeth thanks the Professor for his help, "but please, Professor Cowles, do keep this mystery to yourself. Jackson was murdered because of his investigations, and if it became known that you were aware of at least some of what he found, I fear your life would be in danger, too."

[Grafster]

Johnny takes his cue from Miss Downing (or thinks he does) and works to avoid providing him with any more information.

"As you say, some of this is hard to understand, "gates" and so forth. It's possible that the Jackson was aware he was in some danger and choose to write in code. Or it's possible that a man, traveling by himself in places civilized folk rarely go, grew a bit confused. No doubt this confusion was abetted by this criminal organization's inclination towards cloaking their activities in mysticism."

"As for where we'll go next...I believe that is still up for discussion. Ms. Downing and I have been to Paris before... It's quite a relaxing place to visit. After a suitable period of recuperation we may make inquiries and so forth. Try to get things cleared up. But really, we're more interested in communicating with the authorities than getting caught up further in this mess."

OOC
Since the last paragraph is basically a lie do I need to make some sort of check?

[Raiko]

Arkham, Massachusetts
11:05pm - Monday 19th January, 1925

Maksim, Caroline and Ewa return from their walk around the Miskatonic Campus just as the others are finishing discussing Jackson's notes on his investigation of the Carlyle Expedition.

Everybody (except for Maksim) thanks the professor, bids him goodbye and returns to the Miskatonic Hotel to discuss what to do next. Maksim spends another couple of hours chatting to Ewa, they share a cocoa in front of the professor's large fireplace, and for a few minutes at least the troubles of the last few days seem to ease a little.

Eventually though it is time for Maksim to leave and return to the others at the hotel. He takes his time though, taking a circular route through the dark streets of Arkham, his breath visible in the cold winter air as he strolls towards the hotel.

Meanwhile back at the Miskatonic Hotel, the others they are speaking on the phone to Thomas, who's back at Carlyle House in New York. There is great excitement, Thomas has managed to view Doctor Huston's notes on Roger Carlyle as planned, but much more importantly Timour has recovered!

The Russian awoke this morning while Thomas was travelling to the Medical Affairs Board, by the time Thomas had returned Timour had left - bound for Boston. Apparently without the support of Timour Arseni Rukov, his 'little brother' Maksim wouldn't last five minutes against these cultists.

Doctor Robert Huston's Notes on Roger Carlyle:

Code: Select all

First Meeting: Jan. 11, 1918 
Reference: Erica Carlyle 
Closest Relative: Erica Carlyle 
    At his sister's insistence, Mr. Roger Vane Worthington Carlyle visited me this morning. He deprecates the importance of his state of mind, but concedes that he has had some trouble sleeping due to a recurring dream in which he hears a distant voice calling his name. (Interestingly the voice uses Mr. Carlyle's second given name, Vane, by which Mr. Carlyle admits he always thinks of himself.) Carlyle moves towards the voice, and has to struggle through a web-like mist in which the caller is understood to stand. 
    The caller is a man--tall, gaunt, dark. An inverted ankh blazes in his forehead. Following the Egyptian theme (C. has no conscious interest in things Egyptian, he says), the man extends his hands to C., his palms held upward. Pictured on his left palm C. discovers his own face, on the right palm C. sees an unusual, asymmetric pyramid. 
    The caller then brings his hands together, and C. feels himself float off the ground into space. He halts before an assemblage of monstrous figures, figures of humans with animal limbs, with fangs and talons, or no particular shape at all. All of them circle a pulsating ball of yellow energy, which C. recognizes as another aspect of the calling man. The ball draws him in; he become part of it, and sees through eyes not his own. A great triangle appears in the void, asymmetric in the same fashion as the vision of the pyramid. C. then hears the caller say, "And become with me a god." As millions of odd shapes and forms rush into the triangle, C. wakes. 
    C. does not consider this dream a nightmare, although it upsets his sleep. He says that he revels in it and that it is a genuine calling, although my strong impression is that he actually is undecided about it. An inability to choose seems to characterize much of his life.
September 18, 1918.    He calls her M'Weru, Anastasia, and My Priestess. He is obsessive about her, as well he might be--exterior devotion is certainly one way to ease the tension of megalomaniacal contradictions. She is certainly a rival to my authority.... 
December 3, 1918.    If I do not go C. threatens exposure. If I do go, all pretense of analysis surely will be lost. What then will be my role? 

OOC: It's too late now to get a train back to Boston before morning.

[Grafster]

Johnny nods at Timour when the 'lost russian' enters the room before finishing painstakingly taking down the report over the phone from Thomas. After reading back from his notes Thomas to confirm the points he thanks Thomas and says they will call him back shortly before hanging up.

"He...Hudson... traveled with Carlyle's exhibition, no? And who is the M'Wer... M'Were-oo..." Johnny struggles to get his mouth around the name. "It's the first I've heard of a female in this gang."

He rubs his eyes, red and rimmed with fatigue, tiredly.

[Decrepit]

"I've heard of cases like this one," Caroline says. "The transferrence and countertransferrence here, though, is well beyond what one could normally expect. Huston seems to have implicated himself in Carlyle's delusional paranoia--or, anyway, what Huston *thought* was delusional paranoia."

She looks up and sees Timour enter. Honestly, she'd never expected to see him ambulatory again. His "illness," if that's what it was, was well beyond anything she'd seen before. Why he was suddenly up and moving again, she had no idea; she would need to keep an eye on him, at least for medical reasons. At least, she hoped, this would improve Maksim's disposition, which had been a drain on the group--not to mention for Maksim himself.

[Maksim Rukov]

OOC: Let's assume Maksim hasn't entered yet to give Timour a chance to speak.

[imme]

"And who is the M'Wer... M'Were-oo..." Johnny struggles to get his mouth around the name. "It's the first I've heard of a female in this gang."

"But there was that negro woman that Erica told us was traveling with her brother. That sounds like an African name," Elizabeth observes. "Erica didn't like her, and it seems like the doctor didn't either."

She looks up to see Timour enter the lobby and her eyes go very wide. A huge grin breaks across her face and runs over to give him an enthusiastic hug. "You're okay!"

[Timour Rukov]

Timour hugs Elizabeth back with a chuckle, picking her up a little off the floor.

"Now there's a proper welcome!" he says with a laugh, setting her down with a wide grin, then nods to the others. "You didn't expect to see me again, did you? Here you thought I'd let you have all the fun? Not in a million!"

He nods to Johnny and grins at Caroline, then notices her perplexed expression,"I know it seems strange." He runs his hand through his dark wavy hair, and shakes his head,"I don't remember much."

He looks back at the doorway for a moment, then turns back to Elizabeth, "Where is my brother? I'm dying to surprise him!"

[imme]

"He will be so relieved to see you!". Elizabeth turns toward the door. "I would have expected him to be back by now." A brief frown crosses her face.

[coffee demon]

For the past few days, Andrei has been exceptionally silent. Tonight, at the Professor's residence, he sat in the rear of the room, but leaned forward and listened carefully as the Professor explained what he knew.

On the way back to their hotel, Andrei loiters behind the group, hands in pockets, deep in thought.

There's more to this than smuggling. I know what Jackson was onto. There are too many things in common between this African cult, and the Australian one. Toothed clubs parallel these savages' machetes. He described "Living Winds" in his lecture, blowing down from the heavens. That parallels the Mountain of Black Winds in Africa.

I daren't say these things aloud, the others might think I'm crazy. I think they already suspect it...

Andrei's dark thoughts continue into the evening. He retires to the lounge for several drinks before going upstairs to their rooms.

...

The massive Russian hears joyful conversation in one of the rooms. That sounds like...

Andrei throws open the door.

"Good Lord! Timour! Is that you?" Momentarily losing his shyness, Andrei spins the man around and envelops him in a bearhug. "Oh Lord! Oh, God! What happened?" His head is buried in Timour's shoulder.

After a moment, he stands back and wipes his hand across his face, regaining his composure.

"Timour, how did you find us so quickly? Thomas must have.. of course." He pauses for a second, thinking to himself. Finally he manages a weak smile. He glances nervously at the occupants of the room, and says aloud, "Come along, Timour, lets find Maks. I'm sure he's in his room. He'll be so happy to see you..."

[Maksim Rukov]

Maksim enters the room as if on cue, his face set in a deep frown. He seems unsurprised to see Timour, though there is little recognition on his face. He tilts his head to one side, raises his finger in a half-hearted point, narrowing his eyes a little. Then he shakes his finger as though struggling to remember someone. "Wait ... wait ... I know you, don't I?" He chews his bottom lip. "Yeah ... where did I see you before?"

[Timour Rukov]

Timour laughs heartily at Andrei's warm welcome, and gives him a few enthusiastic slaps on the back, returning his crushing hug with one of equal strength.

"You are happy to see me, my friend, eh?" He laughs loudly again, "I woke at the Carlyle house. Thomas was gone to the city already. It is still hazy in my head...I don't remember everything." His eyes flicker and he smiles wide, "Ah....but I remember the party eh? He jabs Andrei a few times in the arm. "And the lovely Victoria.....heh heh heh" He grins, then notices Andrei's tight lipped smile, and quickly changes the subject. "Yes, I must see my brother. You know where he's hiding? "

Just then, Maksim walks in.

Maksim enters the room as if on cue, his face set in a deep frown. He seems unsurprised to see Timour, though there is little recognition on his face. He tilts his head to one side, raises his finger in a half-hearted point, narrowing his eyes a little. Then he shakes his finger as though struggling to remember someone. "Wait ... wait ... I know you, don't I?" He chews his bottom lip. "Yeah ... where did I see you before?"

Timour looks at Andrei in bewilderment, then laughs. "Surely he's joking!" Timour replies simply, then laughs heartily, and messes Maksim's hair.

He slaps him on the back a few times, then makes a few playful punches at his arm and stomach, stopping just before he hits him.

"My brother!!! My brother!!! You tease me too much, Maks!" He grabs Maks in a bear hug, smiling wide.