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Tree’s Monday Night Ne’er-do-Well’s Victorious Game 
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Mist Elf

Joined: Sun Sep 03, 2017 10:01 pm
Posts: 44
Post Re: Tree’s Monday Night Ne’er-do-Well’s Victorious Game
Nice write-ups guys! I really enjoyed reading them, I'll have to post my own sometimes soon.


Mon Aug 27, 2018 11:02 pm
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Greater Lore Drake
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Joined: Thu Jan 18, 2007 8:00 am
Posts: 3604
Location: Oklahoma
Post Re: Tree’s Monday Night Ne’er-do-Well’s Victorious Game
27 Aug recap




Need support assistance (stop)
Need medical or pharmaceutical trained individual (stop)
Will run local pharmacy (stop)
Also need hotel management (stop)
or accountant individual (stop)
Will run local hotel (stop)
Is safe house (stop)
Can be older non active agent (stop)
Am chasing 2 bank robbers (stop)
Local informants of great assistance (stop)
Uses armor (stop)
Stronger than [code name Galahad] (stop)
Other exceptional water abilities (stop)
Local [US Department of the Home Office] involved (stop)

The Section Chief of American Operations of the British Secretary of Foreign Affairs rubbed his eyes after reading the decoded messages for the 3rd time.

Requesting weapons, money, intelligence and the like. That is to be expected, especially by Roger … . However, a older retired accountant / hotel manager, pharmacist / medic to run a local business . That was unexpected. Not without use or merit, but unexpected.

Then reviewing the young spies financial records, all much too neat for a well born aristocrat, everything in place, all accounted for (which is a surprise on its own considering the Mosby’s blue blood and lack of focus on all things accounting and budgeting ). But some of the expenditures … weapons, armor (for self and associates), rental properties for safe houses, bribes for police and deceives, all very much expected.

But then … tutoring and meals (for the students and the instructors), payment to the students/boys/street urchins for information, and for setting up their own information network …. That must be the ‘local informants of great assistance’ remark in the messages … Payment to multiple individuals for direct services, receipt of payment for activities, understandable from previous messages and the known events … grant of funds to agency for purchase of hotel & surrounding properties. That must be what the request for support is for.

All in good order, but unexpected.

***

Roger hunkered down in the trash filled alleyway, watching the streets leading to the ruined factory and the flood washed cobble stone lot surrounding the rubble. Time for the long boring part of the job. … Sit …. Wait …. Watch … Be alone with yourself and your thoughts …

The wisps of fog off the nearby lake were unsettling, but they did not come alive or turn to acid.

Alert, but relaxed. Comfortable enough, and it was cool but not unpleasant. Much better than desert city dust and scorching hot stones

“It is the small things I guess” …. “Yes, we stay small, still hunt. We like this too”

The sun arose and down the way, in the sporadic foot traffic through the area – all of whom stop and start and chatter about the destruction of the factory and the evidence of the flood – one person’s reaction is different …

Surprised, yes; Not curious … angered & frustrated.

“There, we have a quarry, we hunt again” – Roger and Schima think in unison.

Carefully, blending in with the other passersby, the English spy moves toward the gadgetier and armor maker.

Unaware he is being followed, the Irishman turns, walks, makes his way into an alley.

Minutes later, Roger turns the corner, empty … but wait …. Drip … drip …. Drip …water from excessive puddles dripping into the storm drain.

Oh the fox may run into the brush, but the hounds will follow

Roger does not even flinch as the shadows surround him and he walks through the street down into the sewers.

Yes wet, but where trash should be, it is cleaned … as if a heavy flooding rain had fallen on the city above and over taxed the sewers …

“This is as good as a foot prints in the snow” … “yes, we have a trail to hunt”

Going down grade towards the lake, to a heavy iron bared and crossed locked gate. The shadow enveloped Englishman steps through without a thought … Trash, muck, mud, no foot prints … dead end

Like a hound Schima returns to the sewers, searching …. Cleaned …. Yes, muck & mud no …. Clean … tracking again …. Muck filled, wrong turn …. Clean …. Clean …. Back tracking … hunting

Eventfully, blocks west of the destroyed factory, They find another iron gate, locked again, but this time all the trash and muck washed away and a clean path of water bent grass and weeds lead to the river below.

Roger steps from the shadows across the river and searches … it takes a while, but eventually, 2 sets of foot prints leading from the river up the west bank of the river and to the neighborhood streets aong the bank.

Shaking his head, there is no way to track 2 men in the muddy streets among hundreds and hundreds of people.
But we are not alone, there are those that can help us … Roger feels the thoughts of Schima recoil momentarily at the thought of friends and help, but then relax accepting understanding not repulsed as before. Progress

Roger hails a taxi and directs them to first go to the telegraph office – needing to send his messages to Boston – and then to Jean Claude’s favored hotel. A hotel that the French cavalier, the Mathew’s family, and the British Spy (through various front agencies) are now joint owners of.

Roger sent Henry, after listening to his excited story about the dropping of the letter and watching the gossip monger taking the bait, to go back to the Mathew’s to deliver the request that everyone come to the hotel. That the bank robber gadgeter and the fog master from last night had left a trail.

Soon enough, after Roger cleaned himself up, and took another nap to make up for the last few nights’ lack of sleep, all were gathered and headed to the neighborhood where the trail ended.

Carefully the group – those with rogue or tracking – abilities searched the area & the rest stayed near by incase they stumbled into another foggy ambush. Block after block … nothing. A cold trail.

As evening approached, and the group gathered again for dinner and planning, Roger feeling the effects of the nights of less than needed sleep and the frustration of the lost quarry began to sink into himself.

We need to start looking for another factory …. Iron & steel …. Machines …. Specialized equipment … the rest of the group talked with Roger half listening

… Rail cars, … crane … purchase, … hard to ship …

Steel, ship … equipment … factory …

“Wait, I read something …. Let me think “…. Roger stopped walking with the rest, focused, concentrating and let his thoughts flow … a ship wreck on the lake, … the first fully steel hulled merchant ship on the great lakes … mysteriously hit something in the lake, but above the water line (so it wouldn’t sink), damaged to the point it was better to scrap her than repair her … just sailed into the salvage yard for dismantling last week.


“Yes, we have a trail ! Loose the hounds” – Roger & Schima neither sure who formed the thought/words

A few hours after sunset – after a quick bite to eat and a taxi ride to the south most docks of the city where old decrepit ships await their final fate – the group arrives in the dock area.

Hull after hull, all wooden, the ships are lined up in the dark gloomy night. But there at the end, one lone steel hulled vessel.

Before any could say a word Galahad is aloft flying to the ship and using his exceptional vision to peer through the gloom (and into the vessels).

A few minutes later, the British knightly minded construct lands and says he can’t see through much of the steel ship, but there is lights and movements below deck on it where all the other ships are empty.

Damon nods and disappears into the night, as silent as a whisper of a breeze, followed by Roger – though skilled he is unable to match the Prussian acrobat’s stealth..

Both make their way aboard the vessel – with roger a good 50 to 60 feet behind his blue fired friend, and slowly carefully search from stim to stern. As they approach the rear of the ship, close to the aft deck and the bulk head to the decks below, Damon sees something silently approaching … large … metallic … silent … CAT.

Before it can leap, Damon bamfs away and appears behind Roger. Roger, despite not being able to see far into the gloom, know there is danger close by, and prepares to accept/release Schima. …. Nothing.

The 2 make their way back to the group and give a warning to all to be careful.

They then again go aboard the vessel, again quietly, but now more than ever expecting a fight.
Galahad takes to the skies and circles the ship …
Back to near where the metal lioness was seen, nothing …
Galahad circles again, and notices a movement by the holed hull…
Roger steps into the shadows and Schima passed through the deck to the passage way below…
Damon slowly carefully moves forward on the main deck…
The movement becomes a metallic dragon, climbing from the hole …
Schima feels the sounds from the room, …
Damon moves past where the cat had first been …
Galahad lands drawing the dragon’s attention …
Schema is halted from entering the room through the shadows – to much bright light, not enough entrance to the shadow realm …
Further down in the darkness Damon see movement …
Galahad wills into being his electric crackling sword and moves between the dragon and the rest of the party, muttering knightly vows and snippets of myth & legend and chivalric poems …
Schima retreats from the impregnable (through shadows) room back above to the main deck …
Damon crouches ready for the cat’s lunge – not noticing Schima coming from below deck through the shadows stepping out behind the cat.

_________________
"And so I am become a knight of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows!" - Mark Twain

Forgive all spelling errors.

Knight Errant & Humble C&C Society Contributor
C&C Society


Sat Sep 01, 2018 12:46 pm
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