Session 3 Clues

Timeline

At some point, I may even have a reasonable calendar, but for now, here's my best guess:

• 4 December - 30 January: Hildescheim / Harker Journal
• 29 January - 27 February: Log of the Demeter
• 3 March: Storm which brings the Demeter
• 4 March: Logbook of Demeter printed
• 31 March: Archibald Craven takes a set of photos of Miss Juliette Parton, formerly engaged to Sebastian, but currently engaged to Arthur, 3rd son of George Godolphin Osborne (aka the Duke of Leeds).
• 3 April 1894: Liesl arrives in Budapest
• 4 - 6 April: Liesl treats Immanuel.
• 6 April: Lady Carradine's party. Archibald takes photographs of all the guests.
• 7 April: Archibald notices that something is unusual about Mr. de Ville's photographs.
• 8 April: Archibald consults Sebastian.
• 10 April: Liesl in Varna, telegraphs Sebastian for the second time. Sebastian, Roxana, and Archibald at a party. No de Ville, but Carmilla present and arranges to stay with Roxana and Archibald.

(The Orient Express, which actually ran from Budapest to Varna (!) took four days to go from Paris to Istanbul; so that seems about right.)

• 11 April: Roxana learns her son Edgar has seen faeries. She telegraphs Sebastian. Sebastian telegraphs Herman.
• 12 April: Herman comes to London. Sebastian leaves for Misselthwaite and sends work to Herman and Liesl. Archibald has a second photo session with Miss Juliette Parton.
• 13 - 19 April: Various travels as folks converge on Misselthwaite Manor. Photographs developed. Faeries, Carmilla, illnesses. Also, Juliette becomes ill.
• 13 April: Archibald returns photos for no money to Juliette's father, Sir Robert.
• 20 April: Liesl arrives at Misslewaithe. Session one ends here with Carmilla's flight and many Discoveries. Many relatives arrive. In London, Lady Carradine writes demanding the return of all photos from Archibald and that he make no mention of her ball or their acquaintanceship or she will not be able to answer for the consequences.
• 21 April: Much info is dumped on people.
• 22 April: Roxana has vanished. Owen has left. Archibald attacked in his studio by Mr. de Ville. Flees to a party and to Beatrice.
• 23 April: Everyone meets in London at Mrs. Pat's, and info is again dumped.
• 24 April: Herman, Liesl, Sebastian, and Beatrice (Beatrice Stella Tanner aka Mrs Patrick Campbell aka Mrs Pat) split four ways, looking for information.

At the End of Previous Session

• Herman: Public Bath House. Research earthquake in Romania and area around Hermanstadt.
• Sebastian: Talk to Inspector Cotford.
• Liesl: Research Real Estate Transaction.
• Beatrice: Talk to writer friends: Stoker, Shaw, Wilde. Henry James wanted to be a playwright.

Herman

[This has not happened yet, as Herman has not yet had his bath, nor returned to tell anyone what he learned. But, here's the gist of it:]

Spend 1 point of History or Geology (Sager doesn't have Research, but I figure either of these will do the trick):

• There was indeed a big earthquake on 17 August 1893. The epicenter was Vrancea county.
• 1802 and 1838 saw big earthquakes as well -- the 1802 Vrancea earthquake and the 1838 Vrancea earthquake.
• Vrancea gets a lot of earthquakes, doesn't it?
• I gather the soil gets into the act, but am not sure about the real world geology here -- feel free to look it up, as Sager has the skill.

Hermannstadt is also known as Sibiu. It is in Transylvannia.

[From wikipedia, but I presume Herman could dig up at least this much:]

During the 18th and 19th centuries, the city became the second and later the first most important centre of Transylvanian Romanian ethnics. The first Romanian-owned bank had its headquarters here (The Albina Bank), as did the ASTRA (Transylvanian Association for Romanian Literature and Romanian's People Culture). After the Romanian Orthodox Church was granted status in the Habsburg Empire from the 1860s onwards, Sibiu became the Metropolitan seat, and the city is still regarded as the third most important centre of the Romanian Orthodox Church. Between the Hungarian Revolution of 1848 and 1867 (the year of the Ausgleich), Sibiu was the meeting-place of the Transylvanian Diet, which had taken its most representative form after the Empire agreed to extend voting rights in the region.

[The geography section of the page -- unsure how much of this is true in the 1890s, but likely at least most:]

Sibiu is situated near the geographical center of Romania at 45.792784°N 24.152069°E. Set in the Cibin Depression, the city is about 20 km from the Făgăraș Mountains, 12 km from the Cibin Mountains, and about 15 km from the Lotrului Mountains, which border the depression in its southwestern section. The northern and eastern limits of Sibiu are formed by the Târnavelor Plateau, which descends to the Cibin Valley through Gușteriței Hill.

The Cibin river as well as some smaller streams runs through Sibiu. The geographical position of Sibiu makes it one of the most important transportation hubs in Romania with important roads and railway lines passing through it.

BUT -- the interesting thing here, and I figure this is a core clue, so you have the skills, no spend necessary:

Near an unnamed lake, in the mountains south of Hermannstadt, or so the stories tell, lies the Scholomance, the legendary school of black magic run by the Devil.

Of every ten scholars admitted to the school, only nine are released, for the tenth is taken by the devil.

We'll get to the cost of learning this, or at least, the cost of public baths for Herman later...

[From a period source cited by Wikipedia:]

Emily Gerard, a Scottish author married to a Polish cavalryman stationed in Hungary, gave a detailed description in her article "Transylvanian Superstitions" on page 136 of The Nineteenth Century:

As I am on the subject of thunderstorms, I may as well here mention the Scholomance, or school supposed to exist somewhere in the heart of the mountains, and where all the secrets of nature, the language of animals, and all imaginable magic spells and charms are taught by the devil in person. Only ten scholars are admitted at a time, and when the course of learning has expired and nine of them are released to return to their homes, the tenth scholar is detained by the devil as payment, and mounted upon an zmeju (dragon) he becomes henceforward the devil's aide-de-camp, and assists him in 'making the weather,' that is, in preparing thunderbolts. A small lake, immeasurably deep, lying high up among the mountains south of Hermanstadt [sic], is supposed to be the cauldron where is brewed the thunder, and in fair weather the dragon sleeps beneath the waters.

Gareth: I was figuring that Hermann would spend some time writing letters to people he knows that know what he's looking for. The primary letter would go to someone, perhaps in Budapest, that Hermann had met while lecturing there. Either a map maker, surveyor, or geologist at a local university. I will use 3 points from Network to fund this person.

Okay, I'm a bit vague on what Hermann's looking for.

A 3-point contact? Absolutely. You've got it, feel free to name the person.

A map or survey of the area? Herman can write and ask for that, and the contact will send it. It's not likely to have the Scholomance on it. What information is Hermann hoping that it _will_ have?

Liesl

[This has not yet happened, but here's the gist:]

I reckon tracking down Carfax Abbey is a core clue thing, and Liesl certainly has the skills for it. It is in Plaistow, which is currently on the rural outskirts of London. It was indeed sold to one Count Dracula, and "Peter Hawkins" is the solicitor who set things up, with "Jonathan Harker" making the final arrangements.

The name "Carfax", as "Harker" noted, comes from "Quatre Face".

It is indeed near to a lunatic asylum. I don't currently have a name for it -- you want to name the place, or should I?

The doctor in charge is one Doctor John Seward.

There is other information available for a spend, but what you spend and what you're looking for determines what you'll find here. My notes just say "real estate", so I'm not sure what direction you want to go in after the basics.

Cat: Nod. The next thing would be to see if any other real estate has been purchased by the Count, possibly in his de Ville alias.

What spend would be required? I'm probably willing to make one, depending.

Follow up:

Yes, probably a one point spend -- Bureaucracy is the obvious one, but I'm open to others.

(See the beginning of chapter 20 of Dracula, online here: http://www.sacred-texts.com/goth/drac/drac20.htm -- you can see Harker using a variety of approaches.)

There are two other properties, both in London:

• 197 Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town
• 346 Picadilly, a very nice neighborhood

The second property, the one in a posh neighborhood, was sold by the executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. This is significant because Owen Renfield, aka "Peter Hawkins", used him as an agent, and the man died recently -- April 6 or 7.

Let me know if there's any other research Liesl would be doing. At the moment, I'm assuming this is done at the offices of various clerks et cetera.

Beatrice

Talking to her writer friends gets some information at the cost of two points of interpersonal skills -- you know, Flattery, Flirting, and Reassurance are the obvious, but I'll take anything you can reasonably justify. The points do not have to come from the same skills.

This is a bit of a mouthful. As with the other PCs, she doesn't have the information yet, and there may be other... ah, costs, but to get it all down so folks can absorb it out of character:

Bram Stoker recalls his brother's adventure in Bulgaria. There had been some kind of massacre in a cave, and folks were supposed to see whether the local Christians had massacred the local Moslems, or maybe it was the other way around. And undead creatures attacked, mostly some kind of weak revenant or ghoul or something, but there was one who was different, more powerful. This being was called Iblis Akbar, but had once been a man named Ekim Dal.

George Stoker was disturbed by the barbaric actions of his companions, which may have included decapitating the dead man, and prevailed upon a group of Cossacks that arrived to allow him to deal with his... patient? Specimen? Bram's a bit unclear on this point, especially as George apparently went from disturbed to intrigued to fascinated to disturbing.

George and his companions took shelter in the villa of a woman named Arzu Dal. While George examined the head of Iblis Akbar, his companions slowly learned that Arzu was the widow of Iblis Akbar / Ekim Dal. And the widow herself was now an unnatural undead creature. The ancient imam, weeping, revealed that he was not in his 90s, but was instead barely 30 years old! The widow had been draining his vitality.

The widow tried to seduce the dashing (and famous) Col. Frederick Burnaby, one of George's companions, but was interrupted by the other companions, and destroyed.

[Cat, let me know if you remember anything big that I forgot -- there are some interesting details in the scenario as written that I think Bill cut when running it, which means I can use those as unsuspected loose ends.]

Now, George was fascinated by the proof of life after death, and dreamed of vast reward. He may or may not have later decided that the cure for death was worse than the disease -- again, Bram is a bit vague here.

He's also more than a bit vague about what happened after George returned, but a few things are clear:

Col. Burnaby died in 1885.

George Stoker is currently, ah, resting in an asylum near Carfax Abbey

Andrew F. Crosse, who wrote _Round About the Carpathians_ was on the Bulgarian expedition.

There seems to be some connection between earthquakes and vampires.

Other interesting details that have nothing to do with George Stoker:

Sheridan Le Fanu, an Anglo-Irishman, like the Stokers, wrote a vampire tale, Carmilla. It was serialized in 1871-1872.

Le Fanu died in 1873. Interesting timing, no?

Herman's got a book which mentions Countess Mircalla, Carmilla's actual identity in the book, the Journal of Johann Jakob Ringler.

Apparently, Carmilla put in an appearance in England. (E.g. the first couple of sessions)

[NB: Carmilla is available for free via Project Gutenberg.]

Oscar Wilde, also Anglo-Irish, wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray in 1890, about a man who stayed forever young, while a picture painted of him aged in his place -- and showed his moral depravity.

Wilde is currently working on a new play, a comedy. He's also, as everyone knows, the lover of Lord Alfred Douglas, third son of the Marquess of Queensberry. The Marquess is loudly displeased about this.

The Marquess is loud about a lot of things, actually. His second son, Percy Sholto Douglas, was disowned for marrying a clergyman's daughter in Australia in 1893. (The Marquess is an atheist.) He has referred to Percy as "that so-called skunk of a son of mine".

The Marquess's oldest son and heir is Francis Archiblad Douglas, Viscount Drumlanrig, also the first Baron Kelhead in his own right. And... yep, there's friction there, too.

The Marquess served in parliament until 1880, but, as an atheist, would not take the religious oath of allegiance to the queen. This cost him his seat, and he has not been chosen since as a representative peer by the Scottish nobles.

Viscount Drumlanrig, on the other hand -- he served as private secretary to Lord Rosebury, who is currently the Prime Minister (as of March 1894). Because of Rosebury's patronage, the viscount was created Baron Kelhead, of Kelhead in the County of Dumfries, in the Peerage of the United Kingdom.

What this meant is that Viscount Drumlanrig, aka Baron Kelhead, aka Francis Archibald Douglas, son of the Marquess, has his own seat in the House of Lords. He was also appointed a Lord-in-Waiting by Rosebery. The Marquess is loudly and bitterly displeased about this.

Rosebery married Hannah de Rothschild, sole heiress of Mayer Amschel de Rothschild, a very wealthy banker. And, despite general anti-Semitism (at least on the "we don't mingle with Those" level), both the Prince of Wales and the army commander were at the wedding. Rosebery has a lot of pull. Hannah died in 1890. Rosebery was distraught.

He is now very close with Viscount Drumlanrig, his private secretary, and using his considerable political clout on Drumlanrig's behalf. The Marquess isn't the only one assuming there's a sexual relationship going on there, merely the loudest and most obnoxious.

The Marquess himself is on his second marriage. His first wife sued for divorce in 1887 on the grounds of his adultery, and she was successful. He married Ethel Wheeden in 1893, aka last year.

Apparently, Ethel Wheeden is friendly with Carmilla and her mother.

Sebastian

Sebastian has a contact and Source of Stability, Inspector George Cotford. Figure a point or two of Cop Talk.

Inspector George Cotford’s Police Notebook. 16 March.

Alarum raised at King’s Cross station by the goods handlers there, one of whom reported a huge dog that sprang from one of the cars and prowled through the yard. There were several large animals in the yard, as a Wild-West circus show is in transit, but all of their beasts were confirmed to be safely locked up. Examination of the car in question showed no sign of damage, and representatives of Carter Paterson & co were happy to accept custody of the freight.

[The rest I'll paraphrase, especially as I am changing some details.]

24 March: The inspector was called to the home of Sir Robert Parton in Kensington. (That's Sir Robert Parton of the Incorporated Law Society, father of Juliette and Simon Parton, Juliette being Sebastian's former fiance.)

[NB: If I mention Quentin Parton, remind me that I conflated him with Simon, as there really doesn't need to be an extra NPC running around. He's Juliette's brother, not uncle.]

Sir Robert was out, but his wife, Judith, and his son, Simon, and daughter, Juliette, were present.

Simon Parton is "A legal clerk by trade, not presently employed". He reported having been woken around dawn by the sounds of footsteps in the corridor -- unfamiliar footsteps. He went into the hall, but it was empty. He speculates that the intruder heard him coming and left through a small skylight, which was indeed open.

However, Inspector Cotford borrowed a ladder from the gardener and learned that any intruder would have had to jump 4 or 5 feet into the air and scramble through an opening barely large enough for a at.

The inspector spoke with the servants and learned that, since his return from prison, Simon Parton has had an overactive imagination. Being of excitable character, he likely fell prey to it, especially as none of the servants nor Juliette nor Mrs. Parton heard anything amiss.

29 March: The station book noted a second incident similar to the first, Mr. Simon Parton reporting an intruder via telephone and telegraph, and again, a search was carried out to no avail. On reading this, Inspector Cotford paid a visit to Sir Robert in Chancery Lane.

Sir Robert was with a client, so he did have to wait. The client was tall and pale, with a thick black mustache and a long black beard with hints of white, and a scar on his forehead. The inspector instinctively half-rose, and the client regarded him from beneath heavy eyebrows, saying, "You are a soldier."

Inspector Cotford confirmed this (4th Battalion of the Rifle Brigade in Afghanistan), and said he was now a policeman. He noticed that, while the client was well dressed in a Saville Row suit, the man's breath was foul. The man asked about police uniform, as the inspector was not wearing one, and the man was clearly a foreigner.

The inspector explained (as part of the Criminal Intelligence Division), he wasn't obligated to wear a uniform in the course of duty, and added that neither did Special Forces. The man glossed Special Forces as a secret police, and said, "It is good you have such a thing, for there are many unseen dangers."

He departed. Sir Robert said of his client only that the man wished to know the procedure for making a complaint against a solicitor.

The inspector turned to the reason for his visit, saying that, while the Metropolitan Police were always at Sir Robert's disposal, they could not have his son raise a hue and cry every time the fellow saw his own shadow. Perhaps he could be induced not to use the telephone so readily?

Sir Robert agreed to take steps to curtail Simon's use of the device. The inspector passed on his congratulations at the news of Juliette's engagement, and then departed.

6 April: Another incident at Kensington House. Sir Robert himself answered the door, his face pale. He informed Inspector Cotford, in a low voice, that his daughter Juliette was quite ill.

He led the inspector to the parlor where his son Simon awaited them. Simon rose to greet the inspector, swaying so much the inspector thought he might faint.

Simon explained that he was a light sleeper, counting himself fortunate if he only woke six or seven times a night. His doctor (Dr. Neville Craven) prescribes chloral for him, but Simon detests its taste and fears lest he fall into too deep a sleep to awaken in case of a fire or an assassin. After all, he said, his father had many enemies.

Sir Robert told him to speak quietly lest they wake Juliette. Simon whispered quietly enough that the inspector could make out scarcely half of what he said.

Simon woke sometime after midnight, thinking his father was returning late from the club, then hearing the dogs barking, realized that this could not be his father. He put on his dressing gown and went into the corridor. In Simon's words:

==

‘That’s where I saw him. I thought he was a shadow at first, but he came towards me and I saw that he was a man. His eyes were red as blazing coals, and his mouth was red too, with gore running all down his chin and plastering his moustache to his lips like fat black leeches. He looked at me, and I found myself unable to move, as though my legs had turned to stone.

‘He walked past me, so close I could smell his stench, like the floor of a slaughterhouse. With a tremendous effort of will, I grabbed at him, tearing at his coat, and I laid hands on a knife that he had concealed in a pocket—with some murderous intent, no doubt! I stabbed at him! Slash, slash!’

Mr Parton demonstrated his prowess with a teaspoon. ‘He was not hurt, and the blade seemed to pass through his flesh like smoke. He turned and wrestled the knife out of my hands—look!’

He presented his hands to me, and I noted there were fresh contusions and small, deep cuts, like claw-wounds.

‘What happened then, Mr Parton?’ I asked.

‘He took the knife in one hand, then pushed me in the chest with the other. I fell back against the doorframe with great force, and struck my head against the corner. I fell unconscious.' -- -- --

When he regained consciousness, his father was there.

The inspector asked if there were any sign of how the intruder entered. Sir Robert shook his head and sent his son to bed. As Simon departed, he thanked the inspector for coming so promptly, saying that he did not wish to thought the boy who cried wolf.

Sir Robert waited until his son was upstairs, then unbuttoned his jacket, removed it, and rolled back his sleeve to reveal his arm, wrapped in a linen bandage. A little blood had soaked through, suggesting a wound still fresh and supperating.

Sir Robert explained that his son had attacked him, believing him to be an intruder in his own home. Sir Robert was able to disarm him, and he fell back asleep. Sir Robert considered it very fortunate that Simon hadn't broken into Juliette's room, as in her weakened condition, tragedy might have befallen.

He explained that he had sent for the family physician (Dr. Neville Craven), calling the police only because Simon would not have understood it if he had not. He apologized for the inconvenience and declined to press charges, thanking the inspector for his utmost discretion and assuming the inspector that he would keep the police informed of the doctor's findings and the steps being taken to insure his own safety and that of others.

7 April: Inspector Cotford was summoned to the home of Mr Archibald Winter-Suffield. Mr. Winter-Suffield had been murdered.

The only thing missing from the home was a dagger which had been auctioned at Sotheby's for 450 pounds, a fairly large sum of money.

He employed a young man named Charles Cooper as a servant. Mr. Cooper was also missing.

SEBASTIAN KNOWS: Mr. Winter-Suffield was one of Owen Renfield's agents.

8 April: Simon Parton called to say that he had dreamed of Mr. Winter-Suffield and that the missing servant would be found in a jungle.

10 April: Sir Robert Parton wrote to the inspector to inform him that Dr. Neville Craven had recommended Simon have a long rest. Simon was in a fine institution run by a Dr. John Seward.

Later that day, Charles Cooper was found in the greenhouse in Kew Gardens. He protested his innocence, saying that, while his employer had been delighted at the purchase of the dagger, later, he seemed afraid and sent Cooper to buy garlic. Cooper did so, but stopped for a drink first, as a powerful thirst came upon him.

On his return, he found his employer deceased, having tried to draw something on the ground with chalk. And over his body was the "Devil hisself". Cooper did not want to say this last, believing he'd be thought crazy, but the inspector noted that he was currently thought a murderer.

The description of "the Devil" was too vague to be useful -- pale skin, long claws, a black moustache, great black wings billowing behind him, and red eyes. The inspector remanded Mr. Cooper in custody.

[Sebastian has not yet learned the above, of course, as we're still between sessions, but go ahead and ask follow up questions if you have them. I'll let you know what that will cost... in one coin or another...]