From Hell: A Trip Through the Demimonde

Game Master GM Grimm

It appears that Altair, Edgar and Reagan were the expecting trouble as they were quick to respond with the threat.

Don't worry about posting in order as I will recap each round.

Will there be maps for combats? For less important combats like this, it’s probably not critical, but it helps with targeting bombs and figuring out range increments and whatnot. Thanks.

As the wolves walk out of the drainpipe, Reagan’s mind freezes. She’s heard stories of wolves beyond the Pale in Ireland, but never seen one. The wiry fur on their backs stands in stark contrast to the dogs that roam Whitechapel, and even they weren’t something shed wanted to encounter after dark as a young girl.

Her hands, however, reach for her uncle’s service pistol, popping her jacket's button to pull it out and aiming it at the nearest wolf. Before she can stop herself, her finger pulls the trigger with a *BANG* that makes her jump and jerks her arm upwards from the power of the shot. Her eyes tear up from the powder smoke as she staggers a step behind the big constable. ”God almighty! Bad cess to us, eh?”

Cess is luck, especially bad luck.

Edgar scowls slightly as George arrives. Blighter doesn't deserve a dog that bloody cute. When the pup raises it's hackles at the sewer, his gaze snaps over to the four wolves exiting. What the -?! Now where'd these bloody things escape from?

ROUND 1 / Init 17

Stone widens his stance and shifts his weight to the balls of his feet, raising his fists as he begins to sway slightly side to side, prepared to strike if any of the wolves dare to come near and unfazed by the report of Reagan's pistol. She's a fair shot t' boot!

"Saints preserve us! Wolves...in London?" Thomas sifts through his memory to see what he knows about their strengths and weaknesses as he tightens his grip on his staff and lashes out at the nearest wolf.

Fitzroy's pup, Charles, seems to go mad as the pistol discharges.
Fitzroy stares for a moment at the wolves, seemingly unable to believe his eyes. A moment after the first wolf moves in he starts convulsively.
He moves to Miss Faolan's side, standing to her right - a life of training as a gentleman forming a strange synthesis with his limited training as a soldier.
A snarling, snapping Charles is held in his left hand as the doctor lashes out furiously with the silver headed walking stick in his right hand. Though ineffective as a weapon, it does make a reasonable deterrent for the wolves.

Oh, hell. The wolves are an unexpected surprise, but Altair is no stranger to a fight. He splits off out of Reagan's path, heading for a wolf outside of her line of fire and attempting to get in a cheap shot before the canine can do more than circle. He twirls his knife into a reversed grip, drops his center of gravity down, and comes up in a vicious uppercut, aiming for the throat of a wolf. "Well that's not something you see every-" the end of his witty comment is completely subsumed by Reagan's gunshot. "Damn, those things are loud!"

Round 1 COMBAT

Altair’s swift uppercut misses the wolf’s throat, but manages to cut a deep gash into its shoulder. Reagan quickly follows with a loud bang the temporarily rings the ears of the party and although the shot was unsteady, it finds its mark into the thick haired back of the wolf. Both of them let out a yelp and recoil a bit before rejoining the circle of attack. A third wolf snarls at Edgar as he appears ready for it to strike. The flashy metal end of the walking stick lands solidly upon the head of the wolf who responds with an attack on George after his strike. The other wolf attempts to bite Altair. Both wolves snap their jaws and miss their intended targets.

Begin ROUND 2 Combat

Thomas grips his staff with both hands and attacks the wolf that is attacking George.

Edgar is confounded at the appearance of the wolves. George and Brother Thomas both surmise that these are wild wolves, albeit a bit out of place here in Great London. George does find it curious why the wolves do not disperse at the sound of gunfire. He notices no frothing of the mouth, but there is something amiss in their eyes. Canis Lupus he recalls; they generally live in forests and low mountainous regions. They hunt in packs and sometimes work together to trip an opponent before going for the throat.

Lucretia and Finch are away at the inn.

As the wolves regroup, Reagan thinks through her options, then begins the process of reloading her pistol, making sure the cartridge is packed smoothly. Once it’s loaded, she drops to one knee, sliding a knife out of her bootleg with her left hand and looking apologetically at Constable Stone. ”Whitechapel isn’t always safe for us, you know?”

ROUND 2

"No worries, luv."

Stone remains at the ready and keeps his head turning, keeping tabs on all the animals and his new allies, while staying next to the young Whitechapel woman and seeking to shield her from the wolves' advance.

"Oh, sure," Altair japes as he disengages from his wolf, using the distraction provided by George to attempt to strike at a vital point on the wolf menacing the scholar. "The pretty bird's allowed to hide a knife but not me on account of being a bloke? How's that fair?" As he says this, he recovers from his strike and goes back on the defensive.

Finding himself surround by allies, Fitzroy forsakes his previous cautious style and sets to with a will.

"Canis Lupus! Watch out they don't trip you!" he calls to the others "If anyone goes down, they'll go for the throat!" "But why are they here" he adds in a quieter, more thoughtful voice.

Altair's gracefully executed roll towards George gets him there, but his strike is in vain and does nothing but keep the wolf at bay. Reagan reloads her pistol and draws a knife to the surprise of Altair, but not Edgar. Edgar is still ready to bash the skull of any wolf that makes an advance. His size, a deterrent to the injured wolves. One finally makes a charge at George. A wolf sinks it's fangs into George's hamstring causing great pain. An injured wolf makes an attempt on Brother Thomas. It misses the seminarian entirely. Brother Thomas responds by fracturing the skull of the attacking creature, reducing their number from three to four. Two wolves position themselves together, one rushes Edgar in a failed attempt to trip him. The last wolf mounts an attack that it thought would meet with a human that had been tripped. It's lunge proves futile. Three wolves left, one bleeding get back to encircling the investigators.

Begin Round 3

ROUND 2 / Readied Action

As the two wolves rush him Edgar takes a swing at the one in the lead, but badly misjudges the canine's speed and agility.

Are there now two wolves adjacent to Edgar?

Yes, that is correct Edgar.

ROUND 3

Edgar frowns as Fitzroy is bloodied by a wolf and winces when the priest brains one of them. Poor things are either rabid 'r gone mad with hunger- 'fraid there's not much for it, ol' boy.

"Sorry, pups." Edgar lashes at out with quick, powerful downward jabs at the wolves menacing him.

I inadvertently failed to post George's successful attack on a wolf rendering it staggering in round two.

"Aah! The blighter got me!"
George reels from the attack, instantly switching back to a more defensive methodology.

Thomas sighs as his staff connects with the wolf, dropping it to the ground with a loud crack. "George is right, be wary. As to why they are here...if I had to wager a guess, I'd wager someone trained them to guard this pipe. Even if wild wolves somehow got loose in London, I doubt they'd try to settle into the sewers." Thomas gives the rest of the group a grim look. "You realize this means we probably walked into a trap they didn't want us to walk away from."

Looking for weaknesses in the circling wolves, Thomas moves into position opposite of one of his teammates and swings out with his quarterstaff again.

Reagan pops out from behind Constable Stone, pulling the trigger on her pistol while aiming at the weakest-looking wolf. Glaring as her bullet merely grazes the beast, she responds to Brother Thomas. "Oh, ya don't say? They weren't never like this in County Cork, from the stories!"

Altair narrows his eyes at the wolf between himself and George, foregoing wordplay to try and end its threat immediately with a deep stab from his kukri.

Reagan and Brother Thomas work unintentionally in tandem to destroy another of their canid aggresors. Likewise,Altair finishes off the wolf that George injured. Edgar's quarry turns and runs into the service pipe seeing his fallen pack, his speed the result of adrenaline. It is just past midnight as the river fog begins to thicken and there has yet to be sign of Lucretia or Fitch. Three dead wolves lay at the feet of the group as George winces from the pain of the wolf bite.

What is the group's next move?

George - his face white - puts his puppy down and leans against a wall, desperately taking the weight off his injured leg. Every move is deliberate and controlled. Still bracing himself he maneuvers his strange light-emitting metal cylinder so the torch illuminates the bite.
"Well, I'd say these wellingtons just saved my leg. Very glad I brought the reinforced ones now. Looks as if they stopped the teeth puncturing the skin properly. I'm going to have quite the bruise for the next week or so, and the pain is..." he smiles wanly "quite excruciating."
He looks up at the others "I hope you are correct, Brother Thomas. They certainly didn't act rabid. I suppose we shall see soon." the doctor grabs a few items from his case. "It'll be the work of a moment to wipe some carbonic acid over it in the hopes that'll help. Proper treatment will take closer to an hour. I'd prefer not to venture into the sewers with an open wound - but I don't want to hold up the hunt."
"In the meantime, if someone could help me, I'd like to see what other tracks I can find. If someone's been training them, they might have left a bootprint."

He flips a pocketwatch out and checks the time. "Past midnight. Our patrons are delayed."

There's nothing for it Thomas thinks to himself. My secret isn't worth letting George bleed out, nor go into another fight wounded, which we certainly will if we head into that tunnel I'll wager. He sighs and walks over to George.

"There is a third option." He says. "What I'm about to tell you may seem unbelievable, but I assure you it is true. Sometimes, when I talk to God, he talks back. And when I ask for help, sometimes he gives me the power to work miracles. Including healing people."

Thomas reaches up and grasps his crucifix with one hand and begins to pray in a singsong voice "Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble, and he saveth them out of their distresses. He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. Oh that men would praise the LORD for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of men!" As he speaks, his crucifix begins to glow with a pale silver light. He lifts his hand from the glowing crucifix, trailing silver and blue sparks as it glows with a light of it's own, and lays it on George's shoulder. "Death and Decay, flee before the power of him who conquered the grave. In the name of the Christ, the Son of the Living God, be healed!" George's leg flashes with a silver light, and the wound begins to close. "That should do it."

"Bloody 'ell." For a moment Edgar's surprise is plain on his face before being replaced with a doubtful expression. "Ye feel better, then, Fitzroy?" Don't remember the good Lord ever puttin' on a lantern show, but it's been awhile since me church-goin' days.

Reagan glares at Brother Thomas, hands on her hips. "God never showed his face to me like that. In the mines, we could get wounds to stop bleeding with sawdust and dynamite powder. Hurt like the devil, it did, but ya do what ya must. They've got some other remedies, in Brixton, they never told me what was in them, but they stopped the bleeding. If you're wanting to be keeping a secret, that's up to ya, but God knows Father Glynn would be disappointed in the lying."

Turning to the others, she waves a hand at the tunnel. "They must've found someone interesting at the tavern. Let's be going, eh?"

"I do, Mr Stone. It appears Brother Thomas is more aptly Saint Thomas. I have heard of Faith Healing, of course, but never seen one done. I dare say Thomas here could put a great many surgeons out of business."
He pauses, then continues "In fact, one of my mother's friends - seventy six and far too weak for surgery - has lung cancer..."

Thomas shakes his head ruefully at being rebuffed by Reagan. "I don't much care for lying myself. But my old Abbot Father Dyfrig suggested I should keep it a secret. He was afraid I could get in trouble. Well, now I suppose that, with the exception of an old druid in the Black Mountains in Wales, you all are the only lot outside of Ireland who know my secret."

Turning to George with a sigh, Thomas says "I can heal cuts and bruises, even repair ruptured organs. I don't know if I can cure a disease like Cancer. I've never had much luck with curing actual diseases. Perhaps in time...the more I learn then perhaps I might discover a way to do that."

I'm thinking correctly right? Wouldn't Cancer count as a disease that would take the spell "Cure Disease" to actually heal?

Yes. Cancer would be cured by Cure Disease

"I see. I'd be very interested in a longer discussion, Thomas, but I note that we have discharged a firearm twice. If we hope to investigate the area before the police arrive, I suggest we need to hurry."

"While speed is important, we also need to be cautious. If these wolves were meant as security, there may be more measures further in. Don't want anyone putting their foot into a bear trap."

There are noticeable tracks outside of the tunnel.

"So d' ye want t' butcher fer 'clues', Fitzroy, or shall I take the lead?"

The fog begins to thicken and roll in like curtains falling one after another against the faint orange light of burning barrels. Not a soul is around and the sound of the river takes prominence over all else. It's nearly half past midnight as the newly acquainted group slowly recover from the 'miracle' that they witnessed.

A freight wagon comes rolling up quickly and stops abruptly. A child is seated next to the driver. A smudged-faced urchin of about 10 years old. He jumps down to open the back canvas flaps as Lucretia comes stumbling out of the inn supporting most of the weight of the nearly unconscious Mr. Finch. Blood covers most of Mr. Finch and parts of Lucretia.

Thanks Tommy, Lucretia gratefully acknowledges the young boy's help. The driver is the oriental manservant that greeted you earlier in the evening at the door of Lord Simeon's home on Upper Belgrade.

Mr. Zhou, thank goodness you came. Please, help me get Finch into the wagon. He's badly injured. In a calm manner, Mr. Zhou responds by exhibiting strength beyond his size and easily lifting the short, but bulky man carefully into the wagon.

Lucretia turns to the group and says, I saw him. My cousin, in the cellar of the inn. He was keeping a room upstairs. We went to look for him on a tip and were ambushed. Men, but also creatures. They nearly finished us. Finch has lost much blood. We have to get him home.

If you need lodging, you are welcome to join us at the house. If not, Zhou will take you home. Please meet us for supper later around five o'clock. We have much to discuss, including a change of strategy. No. 9 Upper Belgrade. Lucretia beckons you all to hurry.

Will the party return to the house? Go home first, or continue alone into the sewer? Some of that great RP would be good as well.

Blimey, what'd ye expect, ye daft lass?! Yer tailed pander 'n a lady o' means like yerself, pokin' yer noses inna den o' cut-throats like that, 'n ye thinkin' yer kidnapped cousin was inside? Lucky ye came out at all!

"Miss, it may be we found a back way inna that cellar. If'n it's more wolves they 'ad, we'll 'andle 'em right enough; if we leave yer cousin 'ere now, Miss, there's no tellin' what they'll do now they know we're on t'em. At the least they'll move 'im elsewheres..."

Lucretia, a young raven-haired woman of about 23 years, stares at the group with her piercing green eyes for what seems like an eternal second and replies, I have to get Finch some help. There is something wrong with my cousin and his cohorts. I need to report it to my uncle. From what I’ve seen, Jack has been here for some time. I don’t think that they will be going anywhere soon. I could be wrong. If you are staying, I will send a carriage back in about an hour. Either way, meet us at the house later today for supper.

With that, Finch is loaded up and the wagon is off to Upper Belgrade street.

Altair notes Thomas' magic with less surprise than most. Stowen Clarke wouldn't have seen magic, and to be fair Altair hadn't seen much himself, but, to be quite honest, it was hard to surprise someone who was well aware of the fact that they weren't human. He attempts to act appropriately surprised, and does a passable job of it. Lucretia's arrival provides a nice distraction. "I'd rather not let them find more wolves, if I'm entirely honest. Strike while the iron is hot, and all that. Shall we proceed into the tunnel?"

Dr Fitzroy casts a furtive glance at Brother Thomas, then steps up to Lucretia.
"As it happens I am a doctor. Can you pause a moment while I look at Fitch? If his life is on the line, I'll accompany you to provide immediate care."
He looks back at the others as he swings himself up into the wagon. "A man's life is worth the risk, surely."

"Here George let me help you tend to Mr. Fitch." Thomas says as he helps bind the man's wounds. Whispering to George so Lucretia can't hear "If we can get him alone back at the house I can heal him. I'm not sure I want our employers to know about my...gifts. Although they may already. I'm starting to wonder if that has more to do with why they chose me than my scholarly skills. I'm not half the scholar you are."

After finishing with the work on their patient, Thomas turns to Altair "You were the only person tonight who wasn't surprised like everyone else. You've seen things out of the ordinary before, haven't you?"

George stabilizes Finch for now, but he is writhing as if something else is coursing through him. Every muscle seems to spasm in an orchestra of seizure until a minute passes and he falls unconscious, but still alive. His face, neck, and abdomen raked by some sort of claw attack, the likes of which George has never seen.

George sucks air in through his teeth, turning his head to listen to Thomas.

"Lucretia. Are you saying your cousin is the one who ambushed you? Or did he look like he was being held captive?" Thomas asks.

Sadly, I think that he was conspiring with our agressors, but something is amiss with him. I must speak to my uncle before I divulge anything else. I suggest that we regroup. Whatever you decide, please be careful, Lucretia responds. She is in a hurry to get back to her uncle.

Altair shrugs at Dr. Fitzroy. "Well, I'd assumed they had someone at the place they were taking him that could treat him. If we're to provide treatment, I'll ride with you and we can formulate a proper plan." He stays out of the scholar's and priest's ways while they tend to the man, watching his seizure with no small amount of unease.

In reply to Thomas' question, he pulls an ordinary playing card from his pocket, holding it out for the man to examine. Channeling the slightest hint of magic through it, he hurls it at a fencepost, and the cardboard sinks into the wood like a dagger. "It's no healing miracle, but you're not the only one who's special." When you couldn't lie, tell a little bit of the truth instead. "And since it looks like we're in a sharing mood right now, there's not a better time to say this one. Name's not Clarke. Altair Nikos, at your service." Hoping his twin revelations throw the rest of the group off the one secret he actually wants to keep, he bows while remaining seated on the wagon, a hollow grin on his features. Never let them see you sweat.

If the party doesn't choose to go down the pipe right off, don't sweat it. The info gathering at Lord Walker's house will help them and they will soon return to it.

As she leans against the entrance to the sewers, Reagan takes in the conversation. She finds herself fidgeting with her lantern's handle, listening to Mr. Clarke...Nikos...finish his trick with his cards. Once he's finished, she clears her throat. "Well, it's 'nae shame ta be tellin' the truth,' my father says. Seems to be we have some talents we should be disclosin', 'fore we go too far. This ol' hole will wait, why don't we go with Lucretia for now, and talk about what we do?"

Fitzroy nods convulsively, eyes still on the card-embedded fencepost.
"I'd retrieve that card" he advises, then turns back to Fitch.
"I'd like to travel with Lucretia. If Fitch goes into convulsions on the way, or a bump opens the wound, I'll be here to patch him up."