Case of the Manor's Curse - Chapter Four

Trevor and Maxwell travel past the servant's quarters and the livestock yard toward the woods.  On the threshold of the forest there are several paths which animals have made over the years, but one specifically which Trevor points toward.
"Down this way," Trevor says with an uneasy voice.  "Watch your step, it is going to be steep."
"How did you find the body?  It appears we can't see it from here."
"Gretta, his wife, found his body."  Trevor says as he slowly sinks below the edge of the woods.
"Oh, his wife?"
"Yeah.  His wife was the first one extremely early this morning to see it."
Maxwell follows him close behind Trevor and considers the information.  "But you are the one who moved it?"
"Yes.  I had to hall it up this hill."
"Then you know the exact location."
"I suppose so," Trevor steps over a log easily and heads toward more even ground, "even the hunk of meat which was left of Douglas was more than Gretta could move."
"So she tried to move it herself?"
"I was only assuming she couldn't move it."
"But only you touched the body?"
"I wouldn't think so," Trevor says with a shrug.  "You know how women get when things like this happen?"
"Things like what happen?"
"Well, their mates dying.  When I was a kid in Gallvarg the town gathered around a mine that had collapsed.  I saw these women literally try to scratch a boulder until her hands were raw."
"Oh, yes, over emotional responses." Maxwell grimaces, "I wish people would rationally think before they try to contaminate evidence.  She might have cried all over that corpse washing away important clues!"
"That's rather callous."
"That's rather a large word for you."  Maxwell grumbles as they hang a left.
The two travel in silence until they come to a clearing.  This clearing is large, but it is cut off by a wall of dirt.  At the top is presumably the cliff which Douglas fell from.  Maxwell put on his goggles and starts to look around and sees the place where the body had landed.  He looks at the blood which is at the scene and notices that there is a major lack of blood if the body was chopped up here while the victim was still alive.
"Are you sure the body was not moved?"  Maxwell pulls up his goggles and looks at Trevor with a quizzical stare.
"I am not really an expert in that."  Trevor says with a dumb look on his face.  "This is where she found it."
"Huh," Maxwell grumbles something to himself and puts back on the goggles.  He notices that the spot they are in has been trampled over by people. Despite the well trampled ground, there is a clear and definite path to Maxwell that heads through the brush toward the north with indications of blood, snapped limbs, and black feathers.  Maxwell carefully takes a pair of tweezers and a small clear bag from his black handbag.  He carefully lifts the feather from the path and looks at it with curiosity.  He takes another bag out; this one contains the black feathers from the victim's body.  He sees that they are a match by his bare eyes.  He can tell they are both from a larger bird and then the idea suddenly strikes him.
"Goose?!"  He shouts out loud, as if someone will find his conclusion very interesting.  "Why are there goose feathers?  A goose would not be eating the body!"
"No, they would not," Trevor says who is not too far away.  "Are you going down that path?"
"I have to follow the evidence and uncover the truth!"
"Then I'll just stay right here."  Trevor says with a sigh.
"That's fine," Maxwell says as he stashes the evidence bags into his black handbag.  "You have done enough to contaminate things!"
Maxwell goes down a path which winds around but is somewhat smooth.  He gets to another clearing and looks around.  In this clearing there are more feathers scattered about.  They look about the same as the feather he has collected.  As he collects the feathers, he notices blood in two different spots.  There is also a rock with a significant amount of blood on it.
"That is interesting," Maxwell muses to himself.  He looks at the rock and remembers the injury of the victim.  He knows that this bloody rock had nothing to do with the murder.  He still takes notes and photographs and any sample he can just in case it was a clue.
He then notices the feathers are on this rock too.  He looks at the rock in some disbelief, "Someone killed a goose with this?  How stupid do they have to be?"
He checks out the smaller blood patch which was by the rock.  With feathers within this blood puddle he assumes it is the goose's blood.  The other blood patch is bigger and almost human shaped.  There are also indications in the ground that along with the body, the ground was sliced by a heavy blade.
"This is where he was killed." Maxwell smiles contently as he starts to document the scene.  Then he notices three sets of distinct tracks.  One if a very light path, it seems that something smaller than a human made that.  The second track is made by a large man who must have been badly injured because there is blood.  The third track is made by a person who was smaller in comparison.
Maxwell decides to go down the path which the injured human had made.  Maxwell goes up the slightly sloping hill and looks around for more clues.  It seems that the man had not been too far away from where he fell, because Maxwell reaches another cliff wall.
"Wait a second."  Maxwell says as he ponders this conundrum.  "The victim must have fallen here originally!  The body was placed near the other cliff to make it look like the accident happened there!  Why would someone do through the trouble?"
Maxwell decides to back track.  He looks at the tracks which the smaller person had made and follows those.  He finds himself going up a very steep path that winds itself toward the top of the cliff.  Maxwell looks and finds something shiny in the grass.  He carefully picks it up with tweezers and holds it up to the sunlight.  It is a casing for a bullet.
He continues to look around and tries to orient himself.  He sees more paths around him, most of them are animal trails but there are some clear and definite paths which have been well used in recently times.  Maxwell follows one which leads him more up hill.  He hears what seems like a lightly babbling river but as he approaches he discovers that he is near a main road.
He looks around and sees on the road there are skid marks.  On the opposite side of the road, trees have been recently toppled over.  It looks like an auto had gone off the road within the last few days.  Maxwell takes note but thinks nothing of this and turns back to the paths.
He decides to follow another path, but this time it is made by an animal.  It twists and winds through from wooded patches.  In the shrubbery it seems that some fur has rubbed off from the animal which most uses the path.  Maxwell takes a good look at it and can't determine really what sort of fur it is.
Maxwell decides to go down the paths which are more frequently used by humans.  The next path he discovers goes further south of the road where someone can easily park a car.  He goes back to the top of the cliff again and follows the final path.  After a bit of walking up and down some hills, over a creek which someone built a make shift bride over, and up what seems to be the other side of the gulley near the manor, Maxwell finds himself on the very edge of the graveyard.
From the edge of the graveyard, the path leads to another mausoleum which is on the grounds.  This mausoleum looks more derelict than the others and way older then the rest.  In the dirt that leads to the large rusted door of the mausoleum, there are about four different distinct foot prints.  Most of the footprints lead toward the path Maxwell was previously on but at least one leads toward the manor grounds.
"Hebert Dunvale," Maxwell reads out loud before he notices the door is ajar.  "This looks like a likely place for someone to hide limbs in!"
He opens the old rusted door without trouble.  Despite the looks of the door, someone has been maintaining the hinges so it opens smoothly.
Maxwell lets his eyes adjust to the light of the dim mausoleum.  The shadows turn into images of crates and a make shift distilling kit.  Maxwell takes a deep breath and can tell instantly that it is Corpse Juice, an illegal and highly hallucinogenic substance which Maxwell is addicted to.  Supposedly it shows nightmares as it calms down the person.  Some say it drives men to the brink of insanity, but also to the brink of brilliance.
He licks his lips and starts rifling through the equipment to find the potent substance.  Though, he cannot find the liquid, he does find the crates are full of the mushroom which Corpse Juice is made from.  The mushroom is primarily common when there are shallow graves in an area.  It is also known to grow around mass graves also.  These mushrooms are poisonous when uncooked, but when they are proper for human digestion they give off a smell similar to months old rotting human flesh.
Maxwell picks up a mushroom, tempted to pop it in his mouth.  Luckily, he puts it down and walks away from temptation itself.
"I think it is more than obvious," Maxwell mumbles to himself as he heads for the manor, "that this has something to do with our victim."

Case of the Manor's Curse - Chapter Three

Chapter 3 – Case of the Manor's Curse
Outside the servant's quarters a woman waits for Oswald's arrival.  The woman has been previously warned by the butler over the manor's telephone system.  This system links the main house, the servant's quarters, and the farm so communication and news can travel seamlessly through the grounds.
Oswald approaches the servant's quarters and the woman.  The woman has a worried and confused look which seeps through her professionalism.  Her garbs tell Oswald that she is a maid, but higher paid since the fabrics are finer material.  She has a small barouche with an ivory silhouette in it, spectacles on a gold chain, and a small pocket watch which also has a gold chain.
Oswald stops before he gets too close to her and stomps out his cigarette.  He then approaches her with a small bow, "Hello, miss."
"Hello sir," she says with an apprehensive courtesy, "I am Martha Snol, the head maid of the Travult Manor.  I understand you have come to ask us some questions."
"It's just a formality.  I am just here to rule out any false road in the unfortunate accident of Mr. Timbule."
"I knew the groundskeeper, that Douglas."  She says with a grimacing face, "I didn't much appreciate that man.  I adore Gretta, the widow, she works twice as anyone here.  She never deserved that savage man beating her."
"Did you know if anyone here was close to Douglas?"
"Douglas kept to himself a lot."  Martha says as she looks toward the manor.  "I couldn't say that he was right out hated by anyone, but then again I couldn't say that he was a well liked man either.  He fell out of grace with many of the staff after we found out that he was beating his wife."
"That seems to be something which people strongly disapprove of."  Oswald says as he mentally notes it in his mind.
"He also had a strange habit with leaving for days even weeks at a time.  This was at to the disapproval by the lord of the house.  Also, I had reported to Lord Travult that Douglas was inebriated several times while he was supposed to be working.  Then there was the stealing.  Mr. Bonpoint, the head butler, and I had caught Douglas stealing once.  It was hardly anything too significant but as our grandmothers warn; once you get away with a little thing, it is only matter of time you do something big."
"Always a wise thing to take charge of then," Agreed Oswald.
"I clearly told the lord that this was happening.  The head butler had told me that before that time Douglas had been caught stealing other things from the manor."
"What type of small things?"  Oswald seems curious that a man with a well paid job would start stealing from his employer.
"Small things, like some sliver spoons, wine openers, and apparently a small ornate letter opener.  But as I said about small things..."
Oswald thinks for a moment and lets the information settle in his mind.  "Thank you for the information.  I think it will aid us in this horrible accident.  Now, can I see widow?"
"Of course, sir."  She says with a small courtesy as she takes out a key ring with many keys on it.  "Let me show you to her room."
She unlocks the servant's quarters and lets Oswald in.  The servant quarter's building is a two story buildings but it looks it can fit at least three dozen people within its walls.  The inside is nicely decorated and has electric lamps buzzing, making the place seem cheery.  Nice paintings by up and coming artists adorn the walls, as the soft carpet cushions each foot fall.  Oswald admits to himself that this was nicer then some higher income apartments in the downtown district.
Martha guides Oswald up a flight of stairs.  Each door marked with a number and with a mail slot.  Some doors have eye holes installed, some have flowered wreaths hung on them, and one even have a metal silhouette of a duck on it.  Finally they get to Gretta's door.  The door looks well used.  Unlike the other door, it seems to be slightly dented up.
Martha knocks on the door and waits.  After a moment of silence there's an answer within the room.  Martha opens the door and Oswald walks into a quaintly decorated room.
Martha sits at the furthest wall by a window looking out on the grounds.  The bed looks still made as if no one had slept in it.  There's a dresser in the room with a black and white photo of the happy couple.  Also, there's a small liquor cabinet.  In a corner, a small writing desk sits; it is mostly unused except for a note which Gretta had tried to start.  There's also a closet which sits open and men's clothing can plainly be seen.
Oswald gets close to Gretta and notices that she looks extremely sad.  She has small scars on her face from previous beatings, but also what looks like the remains of a black eye which occurred within the past few days.  Also, by the smearing of her makeup, she was crying recently.
"My condolences on your late husband," Oswald comes beside her within her view and speaks softly and gently.  He takes off his small rounded sunglasses and looks her sincerely in the eyes.  "I am sorry I have to do this, but I am here on a formality which I must uphold.  I must investigate this accident and I must find all the information I can.  Though, once my team has all the information we can put everyone at ease and find peace."
She shakes her head as she sniffles a little.  She brings a delicately laced handkerchief up to her face and tries to hold back tears.  "Well, with his behavior lately, it's not a wonder that he ended up dead.  He had been drinking more, he had been more erratic.  He used just disappear for a few days but he always had a reasonable excuse like family matters.  But the last three months he had just been disappearing randomly.  I tried to talk about it, but when I confronted him he got very mad."
"Do have any suspicions what kind of trouble he was getting into at all?"
She shakes her head as a tear finds its' way to roll out her eye.  She takes a breath and calms herself down.  "The night of his death he was fixated on the geese in the farm."
"On geese?"
"Yes! Geese!  In a drunken rage he swore that one got away from him and his very last words were, ‘The Goose will tell them what I did.'  And he rushed out the door.  I followed him as far as the tool shed where he grabbed an axe and I tired asking him, I tried begging him to stop, but he went off to kill the goose."
"Do you know if the axe has been recovered?"
"We did not find the axe at all.  But I don't know why it is important."
Oswald pauses and thinks, "It's just a routine question, it might even lead to a clue.  After the tool shed, what direction did he go?"
"From what I could tell he went to the livestock pens, but I didn't follow in fear that he would kill me."
"Do you have any friends or good acquaintances on the grounds which might have known about any of this?"
"Douglas kept to himself mostly.  That is how he has been since I have met him years ago.  He never struck me as a social butterfly.  And after he came back from any trip I always asked him what he did and he always answered family business.  Apparently, he had a sick mother to take of and there had been legal issues with her estates."
Oswald thinks for a moment, "Do you know where his mother lives?"
"I am not sure.  I suppose it is far away because whenever business about his mother came up he was gone for three or four days."
Oswald shakes his head and smiles but deep down inside he can feel that something is terribly off.  He let's the feeling of doubt slip away and he looks around, "Miss do you mind if I just examine the room.  I may not be as good as my colleagues, but we have a knack of telling certain things about people how people are by how they arrange things."
"I guess if it helps you can.  But you can also have the picture of us," she says with a small smile as if she has some hope.  "I can't stand to have his smiling face looking at me anymore."
Oswald looks around and sees the objects of a married couple.  Around on top of the dresser, the liquor cabinet, and spaces where one couldn't write any letters on the writing desk, there are momentous of trips, holidays and other events which are important in a couple's lives. He takes the picture and looks at it and then sets it back.
He thanks Gretta for her cooperation and heads out of the servant quarters.  He starts to trace what could have been the path and final steps of Douglas Timbule.  He goes out and sees a small shed, he causal strolls up to it and peeks inside.  He sees it is the tool shed and along the wall are several hangers with outlined silhouettes where tools belong.  There are a few rakes missing, a shovel, and then a large axe.
He then goes toward the area with the livestock.  There are chickens, goats, geese, boars, yaks, and sheep.  A typical farm yard for any house trying to be fully self sustained.  Oswald goes toward the area where the geese are and looks.  It is an octagonal shape wooden fence that a person could easily climb, especially with a tool in hand.  He can notice in the ground, which is muddy, that there are many foot prints of people going in and out.  One specifically looks like it has jumped over the fence, despite the easily accessible door six feet away.
The geese themselves look normal, except for the single black goose which stands out from the gray and white ones.  The black goose stands out more so since it is not acting as lively as the others and drinking a lot of water.
"So you're looking at geese?" Morgan says as he leans on the fence next to his cohort.  "What extraordinary clue does this give us?"
"It confirms the widow's story," Oswald says as he takes out a cigarette and lights it.  He sucks in the smoke and then puffs out a few rings.  First Morgan tells him of his findings from the coachman and Maxwell's examination and then Oswald recounts the conversation he had with both the head maid and Gretta.  "And that led me here to the goose pit."
A man comes up to the two and says in a light hearted way, "Admiring my beautiful geese?"
Both Morgan and Oswald turn toward this man.  The man's appearance is the least regal of all the servants.  He has a round, red, large face that is rudely interrupted by mousy, brown, thick, messy hair.  His eyebrows are thick and seem to almost touch in the middle of his forehead.  He wears a shirt, overalls, and very heavy boots that are all caked in mud, or what one hopes is mud.  He has rough calloused hands and scars up and down his arms.  In short, he looks like a typical farmer.
"Hello there," Oswald says as he gets out his cigarette case, "would you like one?"
The Farmer looks at the smoke from Oswald's cigarettes and then takes one.  He sniffs it and he shakes his head approvingly.  He let's Oswald light his cigarette and the farmer takes a few puffs, "Well, it seems there's something extra to this."
Morgan rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
"It's is that little extra I like to call love."  Oswald says with a laugh.
"Well, I know that certain types of plants are affected by the type of manure and soil their grown in.  So, if you want to get more kick out of your love, just ask.  But I am guessing that is neither her nor there."  The farmer takes another puff and lets it billow out of his mouth.  "I bet you two are investigators of some sort."
"It is just a formality that we ask about the death of the late grounds..."
"Late bastard, more like it," Interrupts the farmer.
"I can sense you didn't like him very well," calmly replies Oswald.  Morgan listens in as he leans on the fence.
"Well, who likes a wife beater?"  The farmer says as he scowls up at the room which the Timbules resided in.
"You know I heard the oddest thing about him," Oswald says as he looks toward the geese, "that this Douglas character went off into the woods to go goose hunting."
"That is an odd thing," the farmer says as he scratches his head.  "The day before we used to have two black geese and now there's one.  What is really strange is that Douglas would have nothing to do with the animals until recently.  From what I know, he was very drunk.  And I can tell a drunken man from a man who is on other substances."
"Then you think that only alcohol was involved?" Morgan says as he looks toward the two smoking men.
The farmer shakes his head, "Everyone could hear him yelling during the night.  I don't think there is a soul in the servant's quarters that didn't hear him.  I know I at least stuck my head out of the window to see poor Gretta trying to stop Douglas from running into the woods with an axe.  It's rather concerning, if you think about it."
The three men chuckle about it, as if there was a grim joke they all understood.
"What I find odd about this whole Douglas thing," the farmer says as he points toward the geese, "is that he only took an interest in the geese two days ago when he returned during the afternoon.  The night of his return, the night before last, he asked me if the geese were all there.  Me, being a man of jovial nature, joked that they were all gone and he became furious and almost insane with rage.  Being a farmer myself, I could see another farmer reacting this way.  Though, Douglas was a groundskeeper.  I would think he would be more concerned if the hedges were missing."
"You said earlier about two black geese?" Oswald looks at the geese again and counts the number of black geese.
"Yep, yesterday we had two black geese.  Easy to spot in that crowd of white and gray."
"What happened to the other one?"
"I guess he ran away because that was the one that Douglas chased into the woods."  The Farmer shrugs.
"What is the deal with the other black goose?" Oswald asks as he watches the lethargic goose make its' way over to the trough where the geese's water is kept.
"Oh don't worry about that," The farmer says with little concern, "there's an object stuck in the goose's crop.  It just swallowed something wrong.  It is an easy fix."
"Just think for a moment," Oswald says as he tips his glasses down and looks into the farmer's eyes.  "Is there any reason, even small, that Douglas would be interested in the geese?"
"If he was another farmer, I would understand his concern."  The farmer says as he takes his final puff and stamps out the cigarette out with his large boot.  "But he was the groundskeeper and he hated most of the animals.  If we even let them roam outside the designated livestock area, Douglas would have had a fit.  The geese especially since, they have a tendency to mess up lawns."
"Did you notice if he was just interested in the geese or the black geese specifically."  Morgan finally asks.
"It seems that the black geese were more of his concern," the farmer says with a shrug.
"Thanks for your time," Oswald says with a charming smile.  Then both he and Morgan travel a ways from the goose pit.
"So did you grab the photo of the widow and the victim?"
"No," Oswald says as he finally finishes his cigarette.  "Thought I would let her keep it.  In some insane way she must have loved him."
"Well I think I have developed some more questions," Morgan says with a tug on his hat.  "Why don't you find some more of the main servants?  I am going to question the wife."
Oswald shakes his head and travels toward the manor as Morgan goes back to the servant's quarters.

Case of the Manor's Curse - Chapter Two

The trio make themselves comfortable in their auto.  Morgan sits behind the driver's wheel, Oswald in the passenger seat with one hand sticking out of the window between drags, and Maxwell sitting in the back keeping himself occupied with his own affairs.  Though in one vehicle, it seems like each man keeps to themselves as they prepare mentally to go to the scene of the crime.  On the other hand, when doubts of directions toward the manor arise, they all seem to place themselves on the same plane of existence.  A small debated will break out between the men, usually Morgan and Oswald debating which is the fastest route and Maxwell contradicting his two companions and telling them to turn in the opposite direction.  Maxwell is not doing this for his own amusement or out of fear, but because he has no idea where to go.
Once leaving the town, the trees start to become dense and the edges of the road seem to melt into cliffs and gullies.  The road becomes treacherous and windy as the branches of the forest close in to blot out the sun.  Unfortunately, this is the only road that goes toward the manor.  The road also has no other destinations available other than a rock quarry far out of town and a small recreational area on the other side of Fretten Grove.
Originally this was for security measures for Fretten Heights.  The original head doctor, who also designed the road and the hospital, believed that his patients would most likely not be able to cope with winding roads which had periodic drops on either side.  Though, this lead to more successful escapes as patients found spots to hide underneath bridges or to find their way down from one stretch of road to another below it.  After this discovery a series of gates and walls were constructed.  Their ghostly remains of large stone archways over the road still exist to this very day, giving the road the name Archway Road.
"I wonder which cliff the servant fell from?"  Maxwell says as they pass another cliff edge on the side of the road.
"From what I hear there's even more cliffs, gorges, and holes around the manor."  Morgan says as he cautiously makes his way up the road.
They finally turn onto another road where the remains of an immense archway stand.  The hinges of a large iron gate still lay embedded in the stone.  Some of the stone work still can be seen on the archway despite being badly weathered.  It seems the old hospital did not spare any expense when making the archway or the iron gate, which lies on the side of the roadway as it gets entangle in weeds and rusts away.
The road winds up a hill and toward the manor, graveyard, farm, and servant quarters.  The Manor is renovated from the house which the rich elderly patients with families were kept when the grounds still belonged to the mental hospital. This was also the only building which wasn't badly destroyed during the Mad Man revolt.
The manor is three stories high and has ornate stone work where brick does not lay.  The front door is done in a large archway which at the top of the archway the goddess, Galau, lounges as ducks and other symbols of the goddess frolic and grow on the imposts.  Toward the bottom of the imposts, little demons look like they are trying to capture what they can of the goddess's symbols.  The door itself is large and made out of hard wood which is reinforced by large iron bands.
The Manor has windows, newer large windows toward the bottom which someone could open and close easily.  Though, the further up one looks, there are older windows which are securely shut with bard in front of them.  But scaffolding blocks most of the view of the second and third level as it looks like a construction crew is replacing the older windows with newer windows.
There is a new structure next to the Manor which is an auto shed.  This one, unlike most around Point Demore, has large windowed doors which open like barn doors.  A passerby can see the autos that the Lord of the manor has and all the equipment he has to keep them in full working condition.
The driveway which loops in front of the house and the auto-shed also splits off in two different directions.  One past the garage going toward the North and one which seems to goes through a small wooded area to the south.  Through the trees, the northern path leads toward a smaller structure.
Morgan parks his auto near the auto shed.  He is mindful that his auto does not hinder any transportation on or off the manor's grounds.  The investigative team gets out of the auto and looks around.
"Which door are we going to use?"  Maxwell says as he fidgets with the handle of his bag.
"What do you mean?" Morgan turns toward Maxwell's direction with a quizzical glance.
"Well, do we use the main entrance or the servant entrance?"  He looks at the large imposing manor, "I would hate to seem rude."
"Listen," Morgan says as he comes toward Maxwell and pats him on the shoulder with reassurance, "the Lord of the manor invited us here.  So, we knock on the front door."
They all go up to the door; Morgan leads the group with Maxwell by his side.  Oswald dawdles behind as he looks around at the scenery and leaves a trail of odd colored smoke behind.
As they get to the door step, Morgan takes one of the large iron knockers and lightly taps the door.  The large wooden door drums, despite the light gentle tap, and the Butler answers the door.
The butler is a taller but older gentleman wearing the black and white suit of the trade.  His hair is well trimmed, pushed back, and slicked with scented oil.  He holds himself strong, stiff, and erect.  His hands tell a different story, they are hands of a man who has labored for the majority of his life.
With a look of disdain he says, "Oh, you must be the detective agency here to calm our nerves."
"Could you direct me to the body good sir," Maxwell smiles and gives a small clumsy bow.  He is totally oblivious to the scowling butler before him.
The butler rolls his eyes, "I will have the coachman take you where the deceased is located.  Mr. Bilus will be with you soon if you can find your way to the auto shed."
"I will accompany you Maxwell," Morgan says as he exchanges a glare with the butler.  "Is there a possible way for my man, Oswald, to talk with the staff?"
"I will arrange them to meet your cohort at the servant's quarters."  He points out toward the auto shed, "It is that way down the path past the auto shed.  It is not hard to miss, probably more obvious to detectives."
He goes back inside and closes the door.  Morgan and Maxwell go with Oswald to the auto shed.  Oswald keeps going toward the path toward the servant quarters.
"He sure has some high mighty standards for a butler with such calloused hands," Maxwell mumbles to himself as he looks at the manor.  "Some butler he is."
"Calluses on his hands?" Morgan says with some interest.
"You didn't see them?"
"I am not the medical doctor."
Just then the coach man, Mr. Bilus, comes out of one of the large side-swinging doors of the auto shed.  He is a well built young man.  His hands tell that he is a working man and his muscles also tell the same story.  His attire at the moment is oil stained coveralls with magnifying goggles dangling from his neck.  He takes off his work gloves and sticks them in his back pocket.
Mr. Bilus holds out his hand and shakes Morgan's hand with confidence, "I am Trevor Bilus.  I heard you needed to be guided to the graveyard."
Morgan shakes his head and motions with his hand for Trevor to start going. They start to go past the manor again and head south.  They enter the small patch of woods and start going up a small hill.
"Why does this manor have a graveyard?"  Morgan tries to fill the silence as they go.
"I don't really know, it was here when I got here."  Trevor laughs at his own joke.
"It is here because it's where they burry the patients."  Maxwell says grimly.
"Who?" Both Trevor and Morgan ask.
"The doctors who were at Fretten Heights.  They say at least 100 bodies are in the marked graves and that some of the mausoleums lead to mass graves of the thousands they killed."  Maxwell shivers at this thought and seems to change to a new shade of white.
"Let me guess," Morgan says with a small smirk curling on his face, "and all the dead can be seen at night.  We're here to collect facts first, Maxwell, then we can tell stories."
It wasn't much longer when Morgan, Maxwell, and Trevor reach the graveyard.  Trevor opens up a heavy door of one of the mausoleums and waves them in.
"Come on," he says with a sigh.  "I am going to stay out here.  I can't stand the sight of Douglas like that anymore."
Maxwell comes into the mausoleum and first sniffs.  It smells like a freshly dead and ripped up corpse.  Morgan follows and their eyes adjust to see the body of Mr. Douglas Timblue.  The body is missing all of its limbs and lower half of the body, the ribs and innards are picked over, and the head still has some flesh on it.  Despite the eyes being gauged out an expression on his face still reads one of terror and surprised, as if he wasn't expecting to be torn up. Then again, what sane person ever suspects that kind of event to happen?
The clothing of the man is in tatters, blood splattered, and barely recognizable as clothing.
Maxwell gets over the corpse and starts to sniff the corpse more.  He cannot tell if there were any other factors like poison at play, but he can still smell some alcohol on the man which means the man had to be dreadfully drunk.
"I need some light before I can do a full examination!"  Maxwell says as he looks for oil lamps or something to illuminate the room.
Morgan joins in the search but sees nothing but the pool of light which is coming from a small ornate window.
"Oh coachman," Maxwell says as politely as he can as he pops his head out of the mausoleum, "can you help us for a moment?  We need the body put into the light."
He reluctantly looks over and groans, "Okay.  This is the second time I had to handle that damn body."
"You discovered the body?!" Maxwell says with some criticism, "Is that why it is in such a pitiful state?"
He restrains from saying anything back, "Well, Doug was in that condition when we found him in the woods behind the servant's quarters."
"I would have preferred to examine it where it was found."  Maxwell says with a humph.
He growls, "If you wanted to fight off the crows and the lions for Doug, we could have just left him there."
Morgan stands and listens to his cohort and Trevor.  He just shakes his head and smirks.
Trevor comes in and does not look at the corpse at all.  He puts on his gloves, closes his eyes, and then picks up the corpse like a sack of potatoes.  He holds his breath and says, "Where would you like him?"
"Wait!" Maxwell says as he motions frantically for Trevor to put down the corpse.  "NO NO NO!  Put it down, and we will carry the body in the cloth it is laying on."
Trevor sets it down back on the cloth.  He picks up his half and Maxwell manages his side and they move the corpse into the light source.  They softly set the body down on the floor.
"I will take my leave," he says as he tries to wipe off any piece of corpse on him, "I will be right out side if you need anything else."
Maxwell is already too involved with the body to pay attention to Trevor, but Morgan looks at him and with a nod says, "Thank you for your help."
Maxwell puts on his magnifying goggles and first examines the arms of the victim.  He looks closely at the ends and sees the bones and tissue were cut by a blade which was weighted.  There's bruising on the skin, which looks like someone was hitting the victim with a large object like a sack.  The torso and the ribs on the other hand where torn apart by creatures and the skull is fractured.  The most interested thing about the body is that on what remains of the chest there is a gunshot wound.
Maxwell narrates all the findings on the body as Morgan jots it down in a notebook.  Maxwell stops after he finds the gunshot wound, "So this wasn't just stumbling off a cliff and being eaten by lions, clearly."
Maxwell examines the wounds a little closer.  It seems from the blood stains that the victim has not been fully dead as the murderer chopped of the limbs from the body.  Also, by the cut marks on the wounds, it seems the murderer started with the left arm as there are two marks.  The first mark shows hesitation, but it seems that was the extent of the hesitation as the right arm is cleanly lobbed off.  The extreme blood lost must have been the cause of death.  The gun shot seems to be done at a fairly close range before death, but how it struck him he might have survived if he had medical help.  As for the skull fracture, that seems to have been done after the victim was dead.
"Do you think that the murderer tried to cover up the murder," Morgan hypothesizes as he scribbles notes in his book, "by making it look like the victim fell from a cliff."
"If they did," Maxwell snorts in amusement, "they were amateurs, not ghosts.  Ghosts would have been more professional than this.  On a serious note, I determine the death to be about the early evening of yesterday to late last night."
Maxwell starts to examine the remains of clothes on the victim's body.  There are remains of black feathers, and also there are some feathers in some lacerations near the bruising.
"We need to find the arms and legs!"  Maxwell says as he stands up.
"Let's see if we can arrange that." Morgan says with a smile at his companion's enthusiasm.
They walk out of the mausoleum with Trevor and head down the road back to the house.  Morgan looks toward the manor and the house with some apprehension and then down at his fidgety companion.
"I think I will go with you."  Morgan says with a tip of his hat so keep the mid-morning rays from blinding him.
"Why would want to do that?" Maxwell says as he trots down the road in an excited shuffle.
"Well, I have to protect you from lions and ghosts," Morgan laughs and pats Maxwell on the shoulder.  "Besides I am the only one who has a gun."
"I already told you, we're not dealing with any ghosts."  Maxwell says as he clearly does not get the joke.  "I am sure that I can protect myself from any lion encounters."
They keep walking and they get to the front of the manor.  Maxwell suddenly realizes a key detail they missed, "Coachman, guide me to where you found the body."
Trevor shrugs, "Okay, but we'll have to go past the servant quarters and the livestock.  We have a little bit to walk."
"I guess I won't worry about you, Maxwell now that you have a guide.  Since we have the time and we have some to walk let me ask you some questions, Mr. Bilus," Morgan says and he looks toward the young Trevor.  "How long did Douglas work here?"
"He's worked here ever since the Travults moved to this area.  That was four or five years ago.  I can't remember because I have been in their employment ever since they were in Gallvarg."
"Gallvarg?" Morgan says with some interest.
"Yeah, we're from Gallvarg.  He comes from a long line of mine owners.  The lord decided to move from there ever since his son, Bruce, started to get into some trouble.  So we moved up here, far away to avoid his son's trouble but close enough to do business.  He finds it rather nice not to be exactly in the area where he does business.  You know, him being head of some insurance companies."
Insurance is a new concept in the Hepian Empire with few people taking advantage of business.  Their main function is a company, like a mining company in Lord Travult's case, will come to an insurance company to be evaluated on their performance, income, regional disasters, and workforce.  The company pays a fixed amount for insurance and when a disaster occurs the company receives money from the insurers to replace what was destroyed.  A diabolical twist is that companies have been putting prices on individual workers and getting money from the insurers until a worker replaces them.  In turn, a family could put insurance on the worker and also be compensated for a limited of time, but this is usually more than most low level laborers can afford.  Most see the act of putting a price on a human life as immoral and inhuman.
"Do you all have insurance policies?"  Morgan says as his curiosity gets the better of him.
"Oh yeah," Trevor shrugs as if it isn't a big deal.  "Everyone who works for the lord has a policy.  Both to compensate our families and to help the lord out, as his time is his money.  And seeing this manor is totally self sustained, one late breakfast could mean the Lord misses five business opportunities."
"What was Douglas's typical behavior?"
"I would hate to talk poorly of the dead," Trevor looks around and then says in a lower voice, "Douglas was a very mean spirited man.  I am not too sad to see him go, especially what he has been doing to his wife all these years.  Though, what goes behind private doors is not my business.  It was not a secret, mind you, through the walls you could hear them fighting, even if you were on the other side of the house!  It was a nightly occurrence, well, if he was there."
"Was he alone for most of his time he was here?"
"It seems on his time off, when he wasn't driving into town to attend on his sick relatives, he was in the graveyard a lot.  He once said to me that he has found this the most calming place on the whole residence."
"Eh," Maxwell says in disbelief, "the graveyard?"
"Makes sense," Morgan smirks and softly laughs to himself.  "No one is there to bug you because the closest person is dead."
"Though, I swear he wasn't alone."  Trevor says, "There has been a few times where I have been sent to get him to get back to work or if the Lord has had a message for him, that I have seen a person with him.  Though only glimpses out of the corner of my eye."
All three suddenly think of malicious spirits.  The path soon leads to the servant quarters.
"I will stop here," Morgan says as he pats Maxwell on the shoulder.  "I am positive you'll be safe with Mr. Bilus escorting through these woods."
"Come on, Coachman, we have limbs to find." Maxwell says with a flip of his wrist as he motions toward the woods.

A New Look!

I felt the blog needed a change.  A feverish frenzy took over my mind and I just had to do something.  Personally, I think I did a spiffy job.

I am also working on updating the blog.  This task is something I have been putting on the back burner for sometime but it will get done.  Chapter two of the Case of the Manor's curse will come out and I do assure my constant readers that the plot will thicken.

As for my players, we will meet for a bit and after the one shot we are now in the depths of is over, there will be a change in the game system.  Actually several changes!  A new, exciting, and bold world will be awaiting the players!

Something Has Changed?!

It has been a while since I have posted anything up here.  Partly because I have been a little busier than I thought.  The other reason is that I was seeing if the group could fully get back together and finish the huge plot which we were doing.  Unfortunately, when reality comes, to it finishing any large plot will be hard.

I have an instinct where I need to keep gaming though.  This activity keeps me sane.  So, what I have been doing with the 3 people left from the original group of 8 is that was have been doing smaller adventures which I lovingly call one-shots.  The ideas of these is that we can finish them in a session or two depending on time.  So far we have done one full one shot and we're almost done with one more.

Another thing which I am not going to do is write these plots up by sessions anymore.  It was a nice way for me to keep track of what was happening, but since this group is smaller and easier to keep track of I do not feel the need to.  I will be writing chapters instead.

Hopefully you will enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing these.  The best thing about this change is you as a reader gets to read a ENTIRE STORY!

Case of the Manor's Curse - Chapter One

It is the morning after an abnormally dark night.  Though, the gloom and bad omens which the cloud cover brought has been shriveled away by the bright dawning sun.  The window behind Detective Morgan Romenov glares with the triumphant return of morning.  The dawn is so glorious it seems it is compensating for knowing something went awry on during the night.  In the Region of Feegan a blissful sunny day is never frowned upon, even if it seems to be covering up something.
Morgan puts his feet on the desk in the parlor, which the residences of the house lovingly call an office, and starts to read the morning edition of the Daily Point, the most reputable paper in Point Demore.  The paper blurts out the news of the area and other events that are amusing to the local gossipers.  The only thing which the paper does not shout is something to get Morgan's attention.
Detective Morgan Romenov is a brash but quiet man.  A man who watches people and looks for their actions, passion, and emotions to hypothesis their next step.  When this information settles with in his mind, he dashes into action.
His dress is dark and rather inconspicuous.  No bright colors to attract attention and nothing to set him apart from the crowd.  Despite being taller then some other men, he remains in the shadows and mostly unnoticed until the right time for him to make himself known.  He usually wears a longer coat and a hat with a wider than usual brim which hides his identity more.  At the present moment they sit on a coat rack in the corner of the room.
Meanwhile, Doctor Maxwell Butcher is in the basement where no sun with any good or bad intentions can reach him.  He sighs as he fills up beakers and containers full of odd colored liquids and substances.  He sniffs other compounds and liquids and pours them down a nearby drain.  He gazes toward the empty examination table.  It was very clean, very shiny, and recently unused.  His attention is then drawn toward the large walk in freezer which sits on the opposite end of the wall.  His fingers reach toward some latex gloves and he moves toward the freezer with an excited feverish grin.
Doctor Maxwell Butcher is a small, nervous man who has a callow face.  His hair is thinning but Maxwell seems satisfied to cover it up with what little of his hair is left.  His demeanor is awkward and he makes better friends with microscopic fungi than with the everyday man.  Though, despite this he is still a passionate man, some would say his passion leads to many obsessive behaviors.
Dr. Butcher dresses very plainly and is not up with the current trends.  He sees clothes more as a burden to wash later on after blood and sinew of bodies dry.  This is why he wears his unflattering large laboratory coat when he knows he is going to work.  Though the most prominent aspect of his garb are the goggles which he hears to help magnify objects and his black, stained, aged, heirloom handbag which he carries all the essentials for finding clues.  Though, the goggles hang on a wall with other tools of his trade and his bag sits on a disorganized desk where he jots down his findings.
Unlike his cohorts, Oswald Von Grimmelhausen takes advantage of the sunshine and walks outside.  Though his merry little jaunt lasts only for moments as he enters The Wicker Tooth, a lively bar which most refer to as a smoke-house because of the cloud which plumes inside the main hall.  Drinking, gambling, and women are all hiding within the inconspicuous frame which houses The Wicker Tooth.
Oswald Von Grimmelhausen is slick, handsome, and an active man who has a shadowy past which he hopes he can reform or he faces a bleak future.  He is the trio's man amongst the people and connection which helps them troll through murky waters of the crime world.  He uses his power of persuasion and tactics of manipulation to win over the hearts and minds of people his other cohorts cannot.
Oswald is the most dapper of the three; a neatly trimmed mustache which is paired with a sharply angled goatee.  His suits are usually matching and new.  In his inner pocket he carries a small cigarette tin which is decorate ornately by a leaf, Gravon Weed, which he chooses to smoke despite its infamous legality.  He also has a pair of light wired-framed glasses with shaded lenses which helps distract his fans from his blood-shot eyes.
The morning for all three proceeds almost without event until Morgan gets a knock on the door.  He makes a noise which indicates that he didn't want to disturbed but he has nothing else better to do other than sit in the morning light and read the newsprint.  A woman comes in quietly and shuts the door behind her.  The woman, Miss Tarlo, is not only the landlady but a willing participant in Morgan's business as it helps the men pay their rent on time.
"Good Morning Mr. Romenov," she says politely with a small bow.  Even though Morgan has told her that he's been under her house long enough she doesn't have to take the extra effort, Miss Tarlo still insists on showing all the proper mannerisms of a proper landlady and a secretary.  "You have a gentleman in the foyer waiting for you.  He's a finely dressed man who seems only slightly distress.  He doesn't look like he could pose much of a challenge, but perhaps this is a chance to do something mundane for some good Pres."
Miss Tarlo and Morgan both exchange looks and laugh.  Morgan starts to fold up the paper and puts his feet down.  "You can show our guest in whenever you are ready."
The door stays slightly ajar and Morgan can hear Miss Tarlo and the man talking.  By voice alone the man seems to be older and from how he talks and stresses syllables Morgan can tell he was raised outside of Feegan.  The man comes in, as Miss Tarlo said, he is finely dressed.  He is also very tall and built well for a man his age.  He wears a pair of glasses which are connected to his vest pocket with a golden chain.  He also has a thick mustache which most elite business men wear.  His hair is well cut and parted.
The man stays standing in an alert stiff manner and looks at the office.  The parlor is a good sized room.  Behind Morgan a window which looks out into the well maintained garden, the nice but slightly skewed messy desk sits in front of him.  Soft comfortable arm chairs sit in front of the desk for guests to sit at and talk to Morgan.  On the northern wall a large wall clock ticks away as hoops and dials spin to show the moon phases and star movements.  On the south wall is a nice plain couch with a coffee table.  Then in the far corner by the door is the coat rack.
"How may I help you?"  Morgan says as he puts his hands on his desk.
"I have come because you are the best detectives in the region," the man says as he remains standing.  "And you have helped several friends and colleagues in the past.  So, I was wondering if you were for hire to help me with a very simple case that has unfortunately happened at my house."
"Oh," Morgan says as he mentally rolls his eyes, "and what would that be?"
"This is something which my servants and my wife are greatly concerned about.  A man, who was a servant of mine, died on my estate sometime last night.  He was found in the woods on my property."  He pauses for a moment and looks slightly unsure for a moment then his face snaps back into a neutral position again, "Though, it looked like an animal had killed the poor man.  The servants, on the other hand, are talking about ghost.  Frankly, I find it all poppycock!  I want you to get to the bottom of this and put my servants and my wife at ease."
Morgan thinks for a moment and nods, "Please sit and tell me about the servant who met an unfortunate end."
The man sits down.  "Perhaps I should introduce myself before we get too deep in this.  I am Lord Bennet Travult and I live in the Fretten Grove Manor.  My servant was the grounds keeper to my estate."
Morgan nods and starts to think about the place which is called Fretten Grove.  A large house surrounded by a thick wooded area where many cliffs, gullies, and other areas to fall in or down from exist.  Those who know the woods well try to avoid them because the terrain in most of the area is treacherous and full of vicious animals.  Also there are rumors which there are Cizinec and Gravon clans who live in the woods.
The danger of the woods is not the thing which terrifies people; it is the old tales of the area.  Before there was a manor at Fretten Grove, there was a hospital called Fretten Heights.  This large hospital was for those who were deemed "mentally weary" or "mentally incompetent."  This is where both the physically sick and the mentally sick came to be housed out of the eye of many normal functioning Hepian Citizens.  The Doctors at Fretten Heights preformed horrifying experiments on the patients which either drove the patients further into insanity or killed them.
Feegan once housed many of these hospitals and also prisons because the old empires deemed Feegan's land useless.  Then after several decades of housing the dredges of society, the captives of the facilities lashed out and revolted.  This came to be known as the Mad Man Revolt.  Thousands of directors, doctors, and innocent people died.  Since then only the relatives and the tales of the facilities survive.  The buildings themselves have either been destroyed and turned into new useful buildings or the ruins are left about.
"I personally don't know many stories about this area," Lord Travult says with a slight shrug as he runs his fingers over his mustaches, "but it has given my staff who are local a scare.  This also worries my wife, not the stories, the fact a man died on our property."
"Understandable," Morgan says with a nod.
"Though, I have my doubts that he was murdered by apparitions."  Lord Travul glares off into the distance for a moment, but his cool demeanor pulls back on his face.  "Doug Timbule, the servant who died, was disappearing for days.  I also heard from the staff that he had been drunk while on duty.  Before he died, he disappeared for three days without even a word of warning.  From what I have heard his wife saying, after he reappeared he started to get very drunk.  So, only one can conclude that he was drunk that night he died."
He adjusts his clothes slightly and looks toward Morgan.  Silence falls between the two as Morgan thinks about what he just heard.
"I will pay you a fine fee if you find out what happened," Lord Travult says as he breaks the silence.  "Especially if it helps my wife and staff become at ease and helps us get back to a normal routine."
"This sounds interesting enough," Morgan says with a slight smile appearing across his face.  "Especially since I have never seen a ghost or murderous ones at that.  I think we will definitely look into this."
"What are your fees?"  Lord Travult gets out his pocket book from within his jacket.
"I have a flat fee plus labor."  Morgan says as he watches the pocket book carefully.  "For you, I would say a flat fee of 5,000 Pres with an additional 200 per day for labor."
Lord Travult thinks for a moment and nods.  He pulls out five One-Thousand-Pres-Notes and puts them on Morgan's Desk.  "Five Thousand is a small price to pay to put everyone at ease and have some normality back into my life."
Morgan carefully takes the money.  "Shall we meet at your Manor in the early afternoon?"
"That will suffice."
"Oh, and about the body, is it still on your property?"
He looks nervously for the moment as he thinks about the body, "What was left of the body we have kept on the grounds, though we had to move it for risk of it being carried off by a lion."
"And when did you find the body?"
"Very early this morning," Lord Travult says as he looks at a pocket watch, "Perhaps not even fours hours ago."
"And where precisely is the body now?"
"In our private graveyard in a mausoleum."
"That's all, Lord Travult.  My staff and I will meet you at your Manor in a few hours."
Lord travult nods and gets up and walks up out of the room.  Morgan can hear Miss Tarlo wish him a good day, but the Lord does not respond back.  Morgan presses a button on a shiny metal box which sits on his desk, he can hear a distant buzz from the other part of the house.  Miss Tarlo comes within a minute of the buzzard.
"Yes, Mr. Romenov?"  She says with a polite bow as she enters the room.
"Could you go fetch Dr. Butcher?  I believe he might be down in the basement."
Miss Tarlo bows but she looks slightly unhappy, "Yes, I will."
Mis Tarlo leaves the parlor, goes into the kitchen area from the foyer and then opens the door to the basement.  She climbs down a set of narrow stairs and enters into the basement.  The basement has been outfitted to equip the needs of Dr. Butcher, but had previously been used as a preparation and embalming room by past owners of the house.
Maxwell is standing over his examine table, and as Miss Tarlo approaches she can see it is a cat that Maxwell is disecting.  The body is opened and some internal organs of the cat are placed near it.  Her stomach starts to turn.
"Dr Butcher..."  She says meekly.
"This animal died in the most fascinating way!"  Maxwell says as he turns around.  His white gloved hands covered in cat guts.
"Hopefully that wasn't a neighbor's cat."
"Oh no," Dr. Butcher says with jubilation, "I found it dead in an alley a while ago.  I was saving it for a slow day."
"You are needed upstairs,"  Miss Tarlo says with disapproval.
"I am not done!"  He says with frustration.  "I am close in finding out what poisoned this poor creature!"
Miss Tarlo looks at Maxwell the same way a mother would look at a child who is procrastinating.  "You are needed up stairs, you have a job."
Miss Tralo leaves as she grumbles to herself.  Maxwell sighs and takes his gloves and goggles off then he goes up stairs.  He finds his way to the parlor.
Morgan hears the door open, "Well, looks like we have another case.  We're to examine a body which was found at Fretten Grove."
"Oh," Maxwell as the jubilation from opening the cat carcass avalanches into fear.
The Butcher family has had a long history in the Hepian Empire as Doctors.  In fact, Maxwell's Great-Grandfather was working in Feegan during the Mad Man Revolt but was spared because he actually helped and cured sick people unlike his colleagues.  The stories passed down the Butchers were strange and horrible ones, for Maxwell's Great-Grandfather knew and disapproved of the people who conducted experiments on their patients.
The story of patients of Fretten Heights particularly frightened Maxwell as a child.  Though, knowing of the murder in the woods brings up one name, Randolph.  The story of Randolph begins with a man who should have been put to death for he killed half a town, but the head doctor at Fretten Heights insisted in sparring Randolph's life.  The Doctor was going to show the medical community and the world that he had found a cure for pure homicidal rage and insanity.  As the story goes, the "good" doctor had a machine which was called the Bombardment, a machine which challenged and over powered all the senses of the human body.  It was a large metal chamber which colors, lights, pictures, and sounds would be randomly thrown at the person getting the treatment.  If that was not enough, the chair which patients were strapped him both spun vertically and horizontally while emitting small shocks of electricity to the skin.
This method to cure people did not bode well for over half the patients put through it.  Randolph, on the other hand, survived this treatment longer than any patient before.  For years and hours on end, Randolph endured the Bombardment treatment.  Then one day, in an unforeseen accident, Randolph killed the orderlies which were taking him out of the machine.  From there, he killed everything from that machine, which happened to be in the sub basement level, to the entrance of Fretten Heights.  Then he ran into the woods.  For weeks they looked for Randolph, but he was never found until his dismembered body was found at the bottom of one of the many gullies.
The story says that now when anyone is in Fretten Grove on a dark moonless night the bloody ghost of Randolph rampages through the woods.  If he finds anyone crossing his path he will dismember their body.
Maxwell fidgets with a piece of string inside his pocket as he thinks and what color is left in his pale face fades.
"Oh, that sounds really fascinating." He nervously says as he tries to put up a brave front, "This has nothing to do with the ghost tales, does it?"
"Lord Travult, our employer, doubts it but his servants are dead sure of it.  In my opinion it is ludicrous.  From the sounds of it, the body was found dismembered as if it was eaten by animals and I am sure that's what happened."
Maxwell becomes a little more fidgety and looks about, "Great... When do we go?"
"As soon as we get everyone on the same page and we get there."  Morgan stands up and goes to his coat hanger and retrieves his hat and coat.  He grabs his mobile talkie and spins the rotary.
"Let's see where Oswald is."  Morgan waits as he hears the tones through the speaker of the mobile talkie.
Through the noise and the commotion of the Wicker Tooth, Oswald hears his mobile talkie ring.  He takes from the holster on his belt and answers it with a charming smile despite the person on the other line not being able to see him, "Hello?"
"We have a job," Morgan says through his phone, "it is at Fretten Grove."
"Oh yeah?" Oswald says as he looks toward a woman he was previously in the company of before his mobile rand.  "Why are we going up there?"
"There's been a murder, we'll fill you in as we go."
"Okay," Says Oswald as he motions a kiss toward his lady-friend.  "I will be right over."
Oswald takes another jaunt through the blissful morning sun as he start to smoke another Gravon Weed ciggerette.  He can feel what fear or shock from hearing he was going to Fretten Grove just fade away.  His feet planted on the ground but he feels as though his head is detached and floating miles off.  He finds himself at the door step of Miss Tarlo's house where the others are waiting on the porch.  Oswald nervously fidgets with the splintering handle of his old heirloom bag and Morgan leans against a wall and waits.
"Are you ready?"  Morgan says a little gruffly as he supports himself and starts to walk toward the shed where the autos are located.
"Prepared for anything," Oswald says as he puffs out a ring of smoke into the air as he opens the door and climbs into the passenger side of the auto.

Like a record we sometimes skip

Well, today the whole group didn't quite show up as planned.  But all who showed up still had a grand time despite not gaming.  Next week I hope we can get it all together.  Though after sitting down in our new location for a while the realization of room might be a problem.  But that can be figured out.
In other news, what I just posted is something I just wanted to get out there for Saturday's plot.  What does it mean?!  Well, I had a gun above the fire place and had to use it.  Though, was this the time and the place?  Perhaps or I am getting trigger happy.  Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Game Filler 3-19

NOTE: This piece of fiction is not a representation of anything in particular.  It is a piece of fiction.  It is also filler.  So, this will go along with the plot, but not what happened in the absent game play.

The destruction of his cruel reality would soon cease in merely a few hours.  The curse of his grandfather would bee seen as a miracle and his parents would not be seen as dabblers of a "theoretical" science but as pioneers.  Three generations of Liecks brought to shame by bumbling scientists so weak in mind they could not read the greatest work to be devised by man or god.  Soon, these scientists who scorned his grandfather's and father's work will be written out of history to always be forgotten and the Liecks name will rise above all.
He stands tall in his office, surrounded by glass and metal.  Below him is movement and lights which reflects off the metal roof of the office.  This man, Dr. Martin Liecks, stands in the heart of the ULPIM, far underground the fairgrounds.  Dr. Liecks looks through his brass goggles through the sweaty water stained glass of his office down at the tubes, wires, cogs, sprockets, pendulums, and other apparatuses which lines the grand underground hall.  The lackeys sit in front of many panels on the floor, all wearing white lab coats and wearing large leather gloves.  They are making sure each meter does not go above or below a limit.  Their hands twitch on knobs.  Others slightly nudge levers.  There are a few who even get to push a button between slightly turning a knob and then nudging a lever.  Martin could trust his lackeys at this stage, but soon he knew the machine would take over.
Martin knew that the machine was watching all of them, and that was the plan.  It had been the plan since he found stability in the engine.  He had read it in his father's plans.  The fools of Ferson and Tubs never realized that the pictures of the barely dressed women, which Martin's father insisted to be put in, had secret messages in them.  His father hid a letter instructing them how to find the messages.  The wonders which these instructions unfolded were hard to believe at first.  But now since Martin has managed to construct the machine, his Angel, he knows not what boundaries of reality it can penetrate.
Martin could feel a smile curl on his lips as he caressed the first published version of the first volume of "Dr. Liecks's Curse" which stands neatly in the office on a podium.  A source of light from the ceiling illuminates the book as if it is a gift from the goddess.  He pats the book, one of the last memories he had of his father and mother after their unfortunate demise.  It is their legacy about to be realized through Martin's Angel.
"Sir," a man knocks on the large metal office door as he enters, "the countdown is starting."
"Good!"  Martin swings his body around, the lab coat which he wears furls out from his body.  This makes his movements more dramatic.  "How long?"
"When it started it was at 12 hours," the man says.  "Then after the chronometer reaches 0, we can celebrate.  Are you sure that..."
"Oh, yes I am sure that we will make it past the 0 mark."  Martin says with a triumphant laugh.  "That after the countdown we can all rest as ease.  My family's wronged past will be rewritten and you and I can gain the benefits!  What was the input and output ratio?"
"1000 Leumer of Input to every 1 Leumer of Output."  The man says gravely, but then a black badge attached by a metal clip to the man's lapel makes a crackling noise.  The man looks toward his shoulder in the location of the black badge.  The black badge is connected to a spiraled wire which connects to a box which is strapped to the man's back.
"This is unit watch A-345 reporting in for the half hour recordings," A garbled voice is produced through the black badge.  "The reverse chronograph reads at 11 hours and 30 minutes.  Instruments indicate 968 Leumer of Input to 5 Leumer of Output."
"That seems to be on time," Martin muses to himself and he looks at his own chronometer.  A few calculations in his own head confirm and he nods.
"This is Dr. Corbin," says the man with the badge on.  Dr. Cordin presses a button which is stuck on the side of the badge.  The crackling noise stops as he keeps the button held down. "Dr. Liecks reports that is sounds fine.  Continue."
"Unit Watch A-345 is signing out." The badge blurts out and then with a click the voice and the static stops.
"Leave me, Dr. Cordin."  Dr. Liecks says with a wave of his hand.  "I want to watch this machine myself.  It has been my life's work to build this machine.  I can spot a problem by just watching the machinery.  Unlike these men, I do not need the aide of scales, thermometers, or gages to see something happening."
Dr. Cordin nods and leaves from Dr. Liecks sight.  Dr. Liecks swings his body and walks toward the wall.  He looks up and smiles as he sees the glint of glass in the dark corner.  The iris lens through the glass focuses on him, and a small ray of invisible light passes over his smiling face.  With the goggles, he can see the light pass over him and the experience makes his skin tingle with delight.
"You know I am here, my Angel.  You are much like a babe recognizing your own father."  He continues to stare into the lens as if he could hear something talking to him.  "They don't realize what you are capable of, and in a few hours as we celebrate, you will show them all."
Dr. Liecks starts to laugh madly.

Gmae Play 2-5-2011

Note: This is a representation of what happened in game.  This is not a representation of the game system or what happened while the group gathered.  Clearly this is a piece of fiction.  Furthermore, I (Paul Gerrish) am just the compiler of the story which is being role-played while this game is played.  All outcomes are not planned.

Erwin starts to run through the fair grounds away from the Head of Maintenance.  Panic leeches into his mind as he reviews the threat that was just uttered, "I will call the Authority."  He dashes through the empty streets of the now awakened fairground.  He passes by booths with boisterous music, sparkling lights, and empty display booths.  The attractions are ultimately ignored as Erwin tries to put some distance between himself and Head of Maintenance.
As he goes down, he notices that several footsteps can be heard behind him.  He tries to look behind him to see his pursuers but Erwin ends up stumbling and falling.  The footsteps catch up to Erwin and he can clearly see those who are chasing him; the Authority and some oddly dressed men.  The other men, as Erwin remembers from seeing in newspaper clippings, are Teresing guards.  Teresing guards wear red shirts with black trousers with white trim.  Their unusual shirts have a high neck line, shoulder straps, and are buttoned up with large black decorative buttons.  They also wear black kapi caps.  Their boots, unlike the authority, are stern looking boots with metal shin guards.  Both the men, despite not wearing masks, look incredibly similar even down to their thick handlebar mustaches.
Erwin tries to get up but as if he is in drunken stupor, he falls down again.  The guards get even closer and out of panic Erwin rolls out of sight into a nearby alley.  The guards stop and look confused but easily spot Erwin and start to chase him again.  Erwin starts to run and finally looses the men after a few more swift turns.  He can hear their footsteps go past him as he hides behind a stack of crates.
Erwin stops hiding after he clearly knows his pursuers have stopped chasing him and looks for the Larsmark building.  After what seems like only a few seconds he stumbles into the replica of the Lars-Market.  In the back Tarlister and Vance are still poking different inventions and look as if they have not noticed, or cared, that Erwin has left.
After a few moments of waiting Tarlister turns around, "Oh, there you are my boy!  Did you see anything extraordinary while you were out there?"
"It looks as though that most of the fairgrounds is automated," Erwin says as he gets closer to the duo.
Tarlister shakes his head, "Oh yes, I heard something about that.  In the center of this fairground there is something which I understand to be called a ULPIM.  Have you ever heard of a PIM device at all?"
Erwin thinks, "Never heard of such a thing in my life."
"Well my boy," Tarlister thinks for a moment.  "A PIM is a highly theoretical engine.  In fact the only one I have known is on a piece of paper in math formula.  But apparently, they have one on these very grounds.  PIM stands for Parallel Inversion Motor."
Erwin stops in his track and is amazed that there are things in the world of steam power and horology that he hasn't even heard of.
"This motor is strange in nature," continues Tarlister as he gets a smile on his face as if he talking about his favorite dessert.  "If they got it right, then the more the motor runs, then the less energy it will take in.  Likewise, the less energy it takes in the more energy it can output.  So, once running at full capacity the output is one billion times more than the input of energy needed.  Though, I have some worries."
"Why is that?"  Erwin asks in with some alarm.  The more Erwin thinks about it, he has heard of a machine like this.  A REIME, or Reversed Entropy Impulse Multiplier Engine, is what some call the greatest idea for energy.  It was first dreamed up by a scientist in North Crow named Johan Lieck.  Dr. Lieck made a series of theoretical math formulas but when to get them reviewed by his peers the majority of them went mad after reading it.  After hearing of this, many publishers barred Dr. Lieck from publishing.  20 years after Dr. Liecks' death a publishing company, Ferson and Tubs, dared to publish the formula and theoretical data which became known as "Dr. Liecks's Curse."  But they published it in 10 volumes with each volume containing a disclaimer for the reader's mental health.  Also, in between each mathematical proof they put a picture of a scantily-clad woman.  Not only was this version easier to read, but was approved by the mainly male scientific community.  In more modern times, the Ferson and Tubs publication is seen as gaudy and a disgrace to the seriousness and gravity of this important formula.
"All the experiments tried in the physical world that I know of have met with a cataclysmic end."  Tarlister looks gravely toward the center of the fairgrounds.  "Either this is a hoax or a time bomb."
After a few moments of grim silence Tarlister starts packing up.  Erwin starts to help.
"I am sure that is what they have."  Tarlister says as he puts some tools away in a bag, "But they are calling it a ULPIM.  I am not sure what the U or the L stands for.  Though, it would have made more sense to call it a REIME since that is what they call it in this area."
"I don't know anything which is abbreviated UL," Erwin thinks about it.
Vance finally speaks and his accent is thick "I have heard it stands for Unlimited Learning."
Tarlister looks at Vance, "Rumors.  I don't know what such arrogance a man can have to think that a simple motor can learn."
They pack the tools and other things into Tarlister's car.  Erwin starts to think about the ULPIM.  "If this device," Erwin thinks to himself and he starts to calculate in his head, "is running this whole fair ground and this fair ground is about the size of a small village then this machine should be fairly big for a engine.  And if this engine explodes while here," the numbers start to fly through his head as he calculates, "then nothing is safe in a 110 length diameter of the fairgrounds."
The realization of this hits Erwin like a large stone.  Fear starts to conquer his mind that even the memory of a date with a woman blows out of it.
They all get into the car and start driving back into Ranstoc.  Tarlister twirls his can in his hand and starts to muse.
"I am glad that these World Fairs are going on."  He smiles and sighs, "And think when I was a little lad half of these nations did not get along and would rather be pointing weapons at each other.  From what I hear though, if one dignitary dies while attending the fair it could plummet us back into that stark reality I grew up with.  Just one death, and there could be a worse explosion then what could happen at the World Fair."
Erwin laughs nervously at the comment, "But if all the important people are at the World Fair..."
"I wouldn't want to think about it," Tarlister grimaces at the thought.  "If anything disastrous happens it will have dire consequences.  Right now, each nation has their own angel to worry about; hopefully none of them turn out to be devils.  So, I recommend to keep an eye out."
The rest of the car ride is silent.  They drop Erwin off in front of his shop.  The wind blows slightly from the west and he is left there with his thoughts.  As he looks at the time, he remembers the name... Ethel.  Suddenly the realization that he needs to be somewhere in the morning clobbers him in the head.  He starts caring that he looks quite the mess.  It has been a while since he has cleaned himself up for a date.
He goes inside and goes to the rooms above the shop.  He looks around his closet, which seems emptier ever since his wife left him years ago.  He digs out his nice suit, which fortunately is still in fashion.  It is one he wears when he needs to impress a new costumer in the field, which has been a while too.
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Evelyn goes outside of the shop where she just purchased her new skirt.  The night is coming ever faster and all the lamps which line the streets glow and hum with light.  She looks about; her wolf is patiently waiting outside for her which isn't a surprised to her, there are people going home or to the local waterholes, and then she notices a young man talking to a young woman.  Nothing strikes her odd about the young man because he looks like most Hepian people but something strikes her odd about him.  She gets closer to the man and notices that he has the Cizinec symbol on him of a Traveling Blacksmith.  She looks at the man's face but doesn't recognize him at all.
Evelyn figures that since it is night and the guy looks more interested in the woman than selling her anything, that she would go back to the Pruchag.  She jumps on her wolf and rides through the night and crowds to the building.  She dismounts and sees another woman there who Evelyn can tell is both Cizinec and a Mercenary.  Evelyn can clearly see that this woman does not hide the fact she is a Mercenary, so she must be a professional.  Guns, knives, and chains hug closely to the woman's body.
The woman is tall, has an athletic build, and is skinny.  She is 25 but can be mistaken for much younger.  The woman wears a scarf over the lower part of her face so only the bridge of her nose and her eyes are showing, but if one looks closely they can see she has burns on her cheeks.
Evelyn stops in her tracks as he recognizes the woman's piercing eyes.  The mercenary's name is Zabel Thunderwalk.  Zabel has been a mercenary for as long as Evelyn and they have met many times in the past competing for the same job.
Zabel, who is not too far away, stops in her tracks.  The piercing eyes of the woman moves toward Evelyn's face and stop.  She immediately walks toward Evelyn; Evelyn slides her hand toward a gun to her side.  Zabel does the very same.
"Hello Evelyn," Zabel says with a snarl, "what are you doing this hour?"
"Running around," Evelyn says as she matches the tone.  The wind slightly blows in from the ocean which ripples Evelyn skirt and ruffles the free end of the scarf around Zabel's face.  "What about you?"
"The same," Zabel says as she takes a small step to the right, Evelyn matches the movement but to the left.  Soon they are circling slowly around each other as if there is a pillar in the way.
"I have been doing some soul searching since the last time we met," Zabel says as she takes a step closer.
Evelyn careful matches Zabels movement and tries to remember the last time they met.  Her mind is so focus on Zabel in front of her now, that the past seems too distant.
"Do you even remember?"  Growls Zabel.
"No," Evelyn admits to some embarrassment, "I can't recall."
Zabel thrusts down her scarf with her free hand.  Her face is badly burned from her cheeks down and looks as though someone had cut her mouth so it spans her face in a sadistic twisted smile.  "Do you remember what you did to my face the last time we met?"
Evelyn would have stopped in her tracks but couldn't.  Her eyes focus on the disfigured face.  Her mind races to what happened the last time they met.  "What had happen," she starts to ask herself, "was this really my doing?"
Zabel gets closer and her voice is a hissing snarl, "Don't you remember the burning building?  Remember leaving me unconscious?"
Evelyn stops in her tracks and stares at Zabel.  Zabel takes the opportunity to move in and gets Evelyn into a head lock.  She squeezes Evenlyn's neck just enough she can control her but so Evelyn can breathe.  She then sets a cold steal gun barrel on Evenlyn's temple.
"Listen," hisses Zabel as she over powers Evelyn, who is making good effort to struggle out of the head lock, "I have been doing lots of searching.  And guess what, I found something very interesting out in Gallvarg."
Evelyn stops struggling and her eyes open widely.  In the back of her mind she swears.
"Let's just put it this way," Zabel says as she pushes the gun barrel harder into her temple.  "I am not only here for the World's Fair."
Zable pushes Evelyn to the ground.  Evelyn sits there for a moment as her mind races to piece everything together.  As she catches her breath Evelyn manages to say, "What did you find out?"
Zabel's response is only laughter as she walks away.  She walks around the corner and disappears.
Only the wind makes noise as Evelyn thinks back but then down the street Evelyn hears something come.  She can clearly see a colorful, noisy, and loud group of people running down the streets as if they were running for their lives.  The dance troupe of Yusel Roba looks like stampeding animals that someone decorated for a parade.  The musicians with the instruments on their backs are especially noisy and strange sounding because each of their steps seems like a song waiting to start.  Evelyn jumps up, leans against a wall, and watches them all scramble up the metal fire escape and into the Pruchag.
She waits for a moment to see if anyone is follow them, but no one is.  She shrugs and goes in though the entrance.  She goes through the hallways and goes up into the common area.  There left in the room are not many people, the dance troupe are all in one area talking amongst themselves.  They look worried, tired, and out of breath.  They start to count heads to make sure everyone has made it back.  Someone exclaims how many they are missing, but Evelyn takes no notice of that and goes toward the elder.  Unfortunately the elder is no where to be found.  Though, one of the elder's sons is around; he is a tall and strapping man with long hair and has a glare which only seems cruel with his dark grey eyes.  He would be more handsome if he didn't have a few scars on his face.  He looks a man who have been in many fights and taken his share of blows.
"What do you know about this dance troupe," Evelyn says as she puts a little sway into her hips hoping being flirtatious would help get her way.
"They're very foreign," The man says with a scoffing laugh.  "There's this country.  I forget the name.  It is something like Arbors or Alligator.  Though, that's really not important, the important thing is that they've been threatening this poor man.  Also, they have been trying to force their way into the Pruchags."
Evelyn shakes her head, "How idiotic."
"Yeah," the man says with another scoffing laugh.  "I like to think of myself as the head of security so I know what has been going on."
"How have you been keeping them out?"  Evelyn bats her eyes and tries to act very interested.
"Since you got in, you that the window is the entrance."  He says with a smile.  "Let's just say they haven't learned the obvious route is the worst one to take."
"It sounds like they're not going to be smart enough to do much harm to him then."  She says with a small laugh.
"They also have a contract on his head," he says as he leans against the wall trying to get closer to her.  "We've been on the look out for mercenary types, especially foreigners."
"Oh?"  Evelyn says as she acts surprised and innocent.  "Have you found any yet?"
"Well, there's you," He says with a large charming smile, "And a woman a little earlier with a scarf over her mouth.  But no foreigners."
"Has the other Pruchags have had a problem with foreigners?"
"Well, we all are.  But foreigner mercenaries looking for Yusel, yeah loads of them.  It seems no one really knows where to look for him.  Then again, we don't advertise fully we're a Pruchag."
"Oh my," she says with some genuine shock, "from where?"
"From a lot of countries I have never heard of."  He shrugs his shoulders, "But there are the usual Hepian mercenaries, the Teresing ones.  Then of course, the Negustor..."
She laughs at Negustor Mercenaries.  Negustorians religious practices strictly forbid them to resort to violence.  Instead they allow their god to rein misery on their foes.  That is until long ago when the Cizinec split into their original clans and the Dasba came south to Negustor.  Then the Negustor relied on the Dasba.  After that point, the Dasba became well known and feared as trained mercenaries and assassins throughout the southern region and in the Cizinec community.
She watches the dance troupe, and a woman who is fairly large is chatting up Yusel Roba.  Evelyn where she stands can't hear what they are saying but she can tell that woman wants to join the dance troupe and perhaps do a little more than dance.  Yusel looks sternly at her and says something, which the woman takes badly and runs off.  Evelyn shakes her head and looks at the son of the Elder, "I think I'll spend the night here."
"There's a room on the second floor with an unused mattress.  I'll guide you down if you wish."
Before Evelyn could say anything, a man runs into the room.  He immediately comes up to the son of the elder.
"Sir," pants the man who seems he just ran up some stairs.  "There's a foreign mercenary here!"
"Where?!" He replies with some shock.
"In the old warehouse.  He made it past the traps!"
"What?!"
"Let me take care of it."  Evelyn says with a smile.  "Consider it my pay for the night."
She walks out of the room and calmly goes down the stairs.  She waits at the top of the last set of stairs around the corner and draws her weapon in wait.  The door to the old warehouse slowly opens.  The door opens fully and there's no one behind the door.  Then a tall figure pops into the frame after a moment with a gun drawn.  The figure looks up and slowly goes up the stairs.  He sees the shadow of Evelyn.
"You better come out of I will be forced to attack you." He says calmly.
"What are you doing here?"  Evelyn says as she caresses the trigger softly in wait.
"I am looking for my dear poor lost little pussy cat."  The man says with an obvious smirk on his face.
Evelyn laughs to herself and feels calmer.  She finds her less threatened.  "Come on, why are you here?"
He goes up the stairs and he is holding his hand up, "I am here for a government.  There's a dance leader I need to protect."
"Oh," she says a slight cringe, "They're upstairs."
He puts away his gun, but she still has her drawn just in case.  They go up the stairs with Evelyn giving directions every step of the way.
"You Cizinec are pretty smart."  He says as he looks behind toward Evelyn.  "I admire your cunning over the years, despite being a slight nuisance in some foreign lands."
"Yeah," she says with a small laugh, "we aim to meddle."
The man laughs and continues up the stairs.  "I am Ezekeal, and what's your name?"
"Evelyn."  She says politely.  Though, Ezekeal didn't need to know her name since he recognized her.
Ezekeal creeps up the stairs cautiously trying to appear that his hand isn't near a gun.  Evelyn watches him, trying to think what she could do.  Her mind is fully focused on how to get rid of this man.  She still has a job to do and the money would be nice.
They continue through the hallways.  Ezekeal observes all the symbols and markings that are on the doors through the hallways.  He looks back at Evelyn quickly, "So where would Yusel Roba, the dance troupe leader be?"
"From how you act, I thought you knew where to find people in a Pruchag."  Evelyn says with a smirk.
"Just because you know of something, doesn't mean you know it.  Ever heard of Tobin?" Ezekeal says as he goes down a hall to a set of stairs.
"Yeah," she says with a questionable tone, "it's a country in the east."
"Then where's the best bakery in Tobin?" Ezekeal smirks as he knew Evelyn didn't have the answer.
Evelyn points the way and Ezekeal follows.  She stays behind him all the way, thinking she could possibly blame this foreigner for the murder of Yusel Roba.  She follows him closely up the stairs to the door of the commons area, which is closed.  He looks back at Evelyn and she nods.  They continue up the stairs, he goes through the door, and then closes it right behind him.  She did not expect he would close the door in front of her face.
"By the goddess..." She says under her breath.  "This is going to be harder than I thought."
She waits for a moment just as she hears some commotion.  Her hopes are up, but the commotion and argument stops with no cataclysmic firing of guns or blood curdling screams.  She sighs again, her hopes that this man would at least die fades.  She goes through the door to check out what is going on.  Evelyn can see that Ezekeal has a piece of paper in his hand and is showing it to Yusel Roba.  Evelyn recognizes it as an official government mercenary job.
She slinks toward the background as Ezekeal and Yusel talk.  She cannot hear the words but watches the body language.  Though, after Yusel throws his arms around Ezekeal in a warm friendly hug.  She shakes her head, and observes more interaction between Ezekeal and Yusel for the rest of the night.
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Odile, Georgie, and Bruno continue to stand in the Lighthouse Bar.  The local life is seeping into the bar as tourists, the common Hepian worker, sailors, and prostitutes start enjoying their drinks.  Georgie watches Odile very closely, as he has since she got her spiked drink.  Odile starts to feel awfully drunk and dizzy, which she finds strange since she has had only one drink.
After successfully drugging Odile, Georgie looks around to see if anyone notices his deed and to see if he needs to flee the scene.  No one is paying attention to what is going on by the bar.  Everyone is laughing, starting to sign, playing cards, and others are too busy with fleshly business that a large animal could jump in and they still would not notice.  But Georgie does notice three large men who just stumbled through the doors of the bar.  They come closer, and Georgie recognize them as the Solopian.
Georgie makes a sound of displeasure and thinks for a moment.  "Well, we better be going.  I think our lady friend has had a little too much to drink."
"I agree," Bruno says politely as he watches Odile wobble in her chair.
"And those men," Georgie says as he points toward the three men wearing furs, "they aren't on very good terms with me."
"Oh," Bruno says as he looks toward the three large men.
"It would be nice if we could avoid them."
"Okay," Bruno says as he gets up.  "We have plenty to do before the sun rises.  But what about our lady friend?"
"I don't want to leave her alone here," Georgie says with some compassion.  The thought of her getting taken advantage seems a little too extreme for his style of revenge.
"We could get her a room."  Suggests Bruno with a kind smile as if he is looking over a child trying to keep from falling asleep.  He feels bad for her despite her being filthy.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," Georgie says directly to Odile.  "Do you have money that we can have?"
Odile wobbles and tries to communicate something.  Her moaning and gibberish communicates that she doesn't want to spend money.
As this happens, the three men start to point toward Georgie.  Georgie glances over there to see them get up and through the crowd he hears, "Eat Olum grabber!"
"Okay, whatever we're doing we need to leave now!"  Georgie says with some concern.
Bruno nods and picks up Odile without much struggle.  The group of Solopian gets closer and Georgie ducks behind Bruno's large frame.  Though the men still notice Georgie and start to shout, "Little man is bad!  Little man is liar!  Little man hands mince into pie!"
"It was only a minor misunderstanding," Georgie says to Bruno.  "They have no idea what I was telling them at the time!  They somehow think I am trying to swindle them!"
"Look there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding," Bruno says as he shifts the almost unconscious prostitute's weight fully on his shoulder.  "This man is very nice and he has been helping me a lot.  I am sure we can come to reason about the whole thing."
"You friend?!"  Shouts one of them.
"Well, we are more than just acquaintances."  Bruno reasons to not only them but to himself.  "We spent the majority day together.  And he has been very trusting..."
"YOU HAND NAILS WILL BE IN SAUSAGE!" Another one of them shouts.  The room is becoming very quiet at this point.
"I don't appreciate that language!" Bruno shouts back.
Silence falls between the men and they stare at each other.  Then from the crowd of on lookers someone shouts, "BRUNO!  You're a real winner!  Punch this guy's face in!"
"Show these foreigners something!" Screams another, who apparently is a woman.
"Show what a man of the goddess can really do!"
"Bruno you're my dream man!" Shouts another in a sultry voice.
Bruno looks around; he can feel the energy of the room.  His eyes narrow and he says in a deep low many voice, "Take this."
He takes Odile, as if she was just a bag of potatoes, and thrusts her toward Georgie.
"Hey wait I can't..." Georgie says as he finds Odile in his arms.  Georgie falls under the weight of Odile.  Georgie though doesn't panic but takes the opportunity to look for some extra money.  Despite feeling her up, he finds no money.  Bruno luckily realizes that Georgie is being crushed.  Bruno quickly picks Odile off of Georgie and props her against the bar counter.
"So what will it be?" Bruno says with a growl.
"If you fight, you fight fighter!"  Says the eldest man.
"I accept!"  Bruno says as he tears what is left of his nice shirt off.  The crowd roars with cheers at the spectacle.  Georgie smiles and backs off to let them have room.
The fighter, Vegal Prustic, comes and looks at Bruno.  He also takes off his shirt, but doesn't rip it off.  Vegal gets the first punch in, and the crowd roars.  They exchange punches, and the crowd reacts with each and every punch, dodge, and swing.  Bruno starts to find his footing and gets two good combo punches.  Vegal starts to stagger a little as blood starts to ooze from his face.  Georgie cheers and starts to rile the crowd.  A chant of "For Goddess and Empire," starts to flow through the crowd and people start to clap their hands.  More punches are exchanged between the two.  Vegal starts to stagger and starts to swing wildly.  Bruno takes the chance and hits his opponent five times in a row.  Vegal slams to the ground.  With the thud there is a dead silence and then the crowd cheers at the top of their lungs.
Bruno lifts his arms up in success.  The other Solopians are shocked and pick up their fighter.  They start to shout at Bruno as they leave but their curses and threats are not heard over the crowd.
Odile finally fully gives into the drug and slides toward the ground.  She lands in the blood of the Solopian fighter who was just removed.  Georgie and Bruno look her way in worry and disgust.
"Perhaps we should move her," Bruno suggests.
"Ew," Georgie says with a wince.  "I agree."
Bruno in desperation tries to pat her face down with what is left of his tattered shirt.
"Would you like some help?"  Georgie says as he kneels down next to Bruno.
"She probably has some money on her."  Georgie says pleasantly to Bruno.  "Because she will be such a wretched looking thing and it would be nice to give the church something for taking her in."
"That makes sense," Bruno says with a nod.  "I could pay for it."
Bruno starts to wipe Odile's face, but the sweaty tattered garment only smears the blood and put some extra dirt on her once glowing complexion.  Odile looks even worse and more corpse like.
"Let me use my hanker chief," Georgie says as he take out a handkerchief and he feels for money again but cannot feel anything through the skin tight dress.
"Let's go, but don't forget my box," Bruno says.  He is about to pick up Odile from the ground, as he slightly lifts her, he drops her back into the pool of blood as he comes to realize something.  "My chicken!  Where's my chicken!?"
"What?" Georgie pauses for a moment as he had forgotten about their chicken.
"The Flute!  We need the flute!"  Bruno says as he desperately tries to find the pocket in which he has stuck it in.  He finds the chicken flute in his pants pocket and is relieved to see it not broken.  He blows in it a couple of times and finally produces a noise which makes the large chicken respond.  Bruno looks around and sees his chicken come to him.
"We should put a leash on it."  Georgie says as he rolls his eyes.
"Georgie, take my box," Bruno says as he grabs Odile.  "Come on, to my moto!"
They come out and look at all the passengers and the amount of room.  They finally settle with having the box on the floor of the sidecar.  Next they set Odile in the side car with her feet on the box.  Then they tie the chicken with what is left of Bruno's shirt to Odile's leg.  Bruno gets on his motorcycle with Georgie behind him holding onto Bruno's massive torso.
Bruno starts the motorcycle and goes down the street.  They travel through the city with out being spotted or stopped by the Authority, which is a miracle.  Though, with so many tourists running about, the Authority themselves are running thin.
The church stands tall, looming in the moonlight as if it is guarding the large cemetery right behind it.  The windows are fully lit, and several people go in and out of the large ornate door.  Each time the door swings open the smell of malt, barely, hops, and cooking molasses collide into passerby's nose.
At the huge doors, Bruno starts to become concerned about his appearance.  Bruno looks at his reflection and bites his lip.
"How do I look?" Bruno says as if he has an image to hold up at church.
This question strikes Georgie as a little odd since when he met Bruno, he was already a little shabby looking.  "Well, how do I put this gently?  You need to bathe, shave, and wrap up those torn up knuckles."
"Oh, really..."  Bruno didn't realize he was all that bad.
They look around for a source of water which Bruno could wash himself off with.  In the distance they see a grave stone which is in a shape of a shallow basin, a popular motif a few hundreds years back.  They tend to be used as birdbaths by the local aves.
"That looks great!"  Georgie says as he starts in that direction.
Bruno looks and shakes his head, "That would be bad and lowly."
They start to brainstorm how to get around Bruno's untidy situation.
"Listen, all we have to do is rely on the truth!"  Georgie says as he smiles at Bruno.
"But I would look horrible in front of the Cocoen!  What would she think of me?"  Bruno starts to get a little too distressed.
"Listen," Georgie says as he tries to put his arm around Bruno.  "You were in a fight in a friend's honor, that's very good right?"
"Yeah..."
"And now you are helping this poor defenseless... woman, or lack of a better word.  You are making sure she has safe housing for the night.  Isn't that grand in itself?"
"Right..."
"So, having gone through all these troubles you would look a little wretched." Georgie says giving Bruno a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah," Bruno starts to feel a little more confident.  "That's exactly right!  But I still think I will let you do the talking."
They go through the large doors which creek a little too loud to not gain attention.  Some churchgoers are in the pews and kneeling but look up from their prayers.  The sight of Bruno carrying the messy and passed out Odile starts to cause a commotion.  Georgie tries to assure some people who are leaving that everything is okay, but they are ignored.  As they go toward the front to the Cocoen, more people start to panic.  Bruno stands strong as he carries the unconscious, blood-soaked, prostitute down the isle.
"WE WERE ATTACKED!" Bruno finally shouts.
People stop their panicking for a moment as Bruno, who is a well respected and loved member of their church community, is recognized.  Most go on with their prayers and think nothing of the sight.  As the crowd finally simmers down, the Cocoen approaches and looks at the trio.
"You need to take this woman.  There is something terribly wrong with her!"  Georgie says.
The Cocoen nods and motions for Bruno to put Odile down.  Bruno does as he is told, and lays Odile down on the bench and the Cocoen approaches the unconscious prostitute.  The Cocoen looks down with a kind matriarchic look as sits nears Odile's head and then props Odile's Head on her lap.  Then swiftly, the Cocoen raises her hand and smacks Odile on the cheek.  The sound of the slap reverberates through the church.  Odile wakes up just enough to be hauled off by the church's helper.  They parade her to the back where the small hospital is.
Goergie catches up to Odile and smiles, "Oh my, I am glad you are awake.  There was a horrible fight where you became unconscious.  It was my idea to take you here for the night because I never want to see a dear friend so defenseless.  I think you owe me a favor."
"That's too bad," Odile says as she is being taken away, "I have no money!"
"Okay," Georgie says as he tries to not to grimace since he know she must have money on her.  "See you around!"
"Oh, come on, let's get my alcohol."  Bruno says as he grabs Georgie by the shoulder.  He then approaches the Cocoen again, "Tell me, your fairness, what alcohol do you have?"
The Cocoen leads them to an altar of the goddess Galau which is surrounded by bottles which are filled with all sorts of drinks.  "We have wine, we have spirits, and we have pure alcohol."
"Oh," Bruno says in delight, "Do you know what is best for a Disobian woman?"
"Why yes," she says with a smile.  "They are not a goddess fearing country like our holy empire, so their drinks are not made to the purity or standards as our goddess has instructed.  I am sure you can impress her both body and soul by showing her the true might of Galau by giving her a nice, dark, smooth brandy."
She takes out a bottle which contains the dark liquid.  On the bottle has an etched picture of a flying duck in a circle.  The bottle is hand blown and a strange scent, but is claimed to enhance the flavor of the drink while being poured.
Bruno's eyes reflect the glimmering light which shines from the glassy surface, "I'll take it!"
"WAIT!"  Georgie says as he steps in and nudges Bruno.
"Oh," Bruno blinks and thinks for a moment.  "How much is it?"
"I know that you are a goddess fearing man," the Cocoen says calmly.  "And one of our more famous and popular attendees.  For you, it will be 700 Pres."
"That's a little steep," Georgie as he pushes the bottle a little further away from Bruno.  "I am pretty sure, Bruno, we could get this at any other church.  If you really want to be loyal to this church I think they should take your budget into consideration."
"But both of you love the goddess don't you?"  The Cocoen says with a slight scowl.
"But she can love as just as well at another church."  Georgie narrows his eyes slightly but smiles a roguish smile.
"Fine," She says finally giving in to the demands of Georgie.  "I will give you an unmarked bottle for 500 Pres."
Bruno looks at Georgie and Georgie nods back.  Bruno takes out his money and they exchange good.  They leave the church.
Bruno looks at his motorcycle and looks at Georgie.  "Are we going separate ways?"
"Well, I could come to your place and make sure you are ready for your big day."  Georgie says with his award winning smile.
"I do owe you for being a big help today."  Bruno thinks for a moment, "And it would be easier to find you to hand you the rest of your money tomorrow."
"Well, if that's an invitation to stay at your place, I will take it."  Georgie says with some hope of scoring some more money legal or illegally.
"You could stay in my maids' courters."  Bruno says as he motions toward the motorcycle and Georgie gets into the sidecar.