Within are to be writ the tales of daring and adventure of those who have placed themselves on the path of glory. Share your exploits with other Castlers & Crusaders!
Mon Aug 27, 2018 11:02 pm
Nice write-ups guys! I really enjoyed reading them, I'll have to post my own sometimes soon.
Sat Sep 01, 2018 12:46 pm
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.
Fri Dec 14, 2018 3:56 am
19 Nov recap
Hogan Mosby sipped his brandy, looking around the game room of the Brooks’s Club. The table covered with cards and betting chips, surrounded by friends, acquaintance, and even on gentleman that supported the Burgoyne faction – a political opponent, but still a gentleman and good enough acquaintance to enjoy a few hands of cards with.
The other Mosby sons may be globetrotting and living adventures in China, Eastern Austria, and one even in America, and serving Country and Queen, but ???? was happy enough here in London, serving Country Queen and the Mosby family interests in his own way.
A smile and a raised glass, and a sideways glance at the cute redheaded Scottish serving maid bringing the crystal decanter of the good Spanish elixir, “Yes, this is better by far than dusty Mongolia, Slavic woods and American wilderness”
“What are you mumbling about, mind your card, and hurry up and win more of my money so we can go to dinner”
“Your money, you mean your father’s and money you will have to be lectured about losing”
The longtime friend and acquaintance bantered like any your wealthy friends are want to.
Without touching the card dealt, Hogan knew it would be the ‘king of spades’, the card he needed to complete his full house, the card he needed to win the final pot of the night, before the friend went to dinner and other entertainments.
Hogan hesitated as he felt, seconds before anyone heard, the lady’s scream from the edged of Pall Mall, as he turned and the scream started, he knew the nurse-maid’s young charge, was tripping and falling in front of a hacky cab’s horses hooves.
As the scream started, the young boy fell … sideway - not forward as the laws of physics and momentum required – and landed with a splash in a muck filled gutter, and not in front of the metal shoed hooves of the trotting horse.
Hogan grimaced as a lightning bolt of pain pules through his head, slowly breathed out, and gulped his freshly filled glass of brandy.
“Queen of Spades, Hogan your luck has ran out, 2 pairs, kings high, good but not good enough” .
The table of friends and acquaintance laughed joked and bantered.
Hogan smirked as he raises his glass again, “Yes my luck seems limited tonight, but … I think our custom is for the winner to by the final round. So, for once, I’m not paying for your all’s drinks. That is enough luck for me today”
As the gambling gentlemen broke into smaller groups, and went their ways to the various night’s entertainments, Hogan failed to notice an older gentleman, Lord Somersworth, setting in the game room smoking a cigar and reading they days paper, one older gentleman among many older gentlemen doing the same.
The older man smiled as the younger Mosby gathered his coat and said some witty remark that caused the Scottish serving maid to laugh but blush ever so slightly. Interesting, the younger sister, all 4 brothers, have explicit powers. More than likely the 2 other sisters also to some extent, maybe less obvious less flashy, but more than likely unique and exceptional in their own right. Time to widen the observation to extended family. The father and mother would be too difficult to watch effectively. Plus, though they are healthy and active, their age and family, social and political responsibilities would limit their opportunities to demonstrate any exceptional powers openly. However, there are enough cousins of the family, hmmm possibly also the maternal side too … they need to be watched also.
Regardless, Dame Hayes and the rest of ‘The Queen’s Knights’ will be interested in this exceptional family, and not just the youngest daughter, who recently demonstrated her powers in a Scottish village while on a school field trip, or the youngest son away in America causing so much mischief for The Section Chief of American Operations of the British Secretary of Foreign Affairs .
Roger gritted is teeth as he stepped from the shadows and saw the metallic panther preparing to pounce on the Prussian acrobat. “I hope we are strong enough”
We are stronger together … yes we are
Roger leapt on the back of the metallic beast and Schima pulled the contraption into the shadow realm. Never have we pulled a construction of such great mass, nor an actively resisting target, into the shadow lands.
The cat turned and clawed and bit. It is too much for us …
Schima pushed away from the cat and tumbled back onto the dock in the land of light and reality, leaving the cat stranded in the shadow realms.
We did it, yes stronger together.
Schima looked back surprisingly at the ’ship’ that his Prussian friend was still on. No longer a ship, but a mass of twisting, sliding, rearranging metal, as the ship slowly metamorphosed into a gigantic automation.
In his surprise he nearly missed seeing the cat step from the shadows and leap. However, he was barely able to react, dodge from most of the slashing claws and biting teeth of the mechanical cat. Then he struck the beast with the shadow saber. It is bit into the metal hide and cause a scar of brutal metal as the shadow blade pulled out the light warmth and reality of the sun world.
We hit it with a pin prick, it mauls us … be smarter than it is …
Roger backed away, drawing it further away from the rest of the group, further away from Damon as he bamphed into the air some feet above the dock and dropped into a heap on the lake wet wood planks, … dripping some form of oil … gasping for air.
The cat leaped, as roger stepped into the shadow realm … safely out of reach of the metallic cat. Safe for now but gravely injured.
The cat and mouse game continued for a few seconds as Damon was able to reach Faith and Miss A.
As soon as the acrobat was well healed, Roger called out to be ready, and began bringing the cat back towards the others, so he could be healed himself, and hopefully Damon could play cat and mouse for a while, and be more successful at it with his acrobatics and newly learned martial arts …
The boat/construct finished it metamorphosis and stood well over 100 feet, nearly 200 feet above the lake surface.
Jean slid around the monstrosity ice surfing and bombarding it with ice blasts, to limited effect … Liam from a nearby roof tom fired time and time again at it, doing some more damage, a crane swung around slamming into the tower construct, damaging it from sheer force and mass.
Roger gasp as Miss A healed him, then … pulled out almost all of his mass … light as a feather, and now fast, easily 3x faster than he was before …
More ice, … and another hit by the crane and the construct had a few scratches and dented metal plates. Then, Jean freezes a foot in place, and the crane wrapped its cable and hook around giant, and it toppled over back into the lake … suffering no damage … and began to climb back to its knees to stand up.
We hit it with pin pricks … be smarter than it
Roger glanced over as Damon, agile enough to avoid most of the metallic cat’s attacks, bamphed across to the dock 60 ft away, followed by the cat as it pounced into the shadow realm, to leap out and attack the Prussian seconds later … Well, Damon is holding his own, Miss A and Miss Faith are not in grave danger.
Schima stepped into the shadows and with his feather weight and heightened speed, quickly climbed toward the head of the construct.
More ice and Liam’s blasts … having minimal effect … but now standing the monstrosity swung and crushed the crane.
Schima began searching the internal making of the construct for a shadow, a light, a weakness … the head, light coming into the window/eye, but an empty room … not a target, move on …
The construct swung out and smashed the roof top that Liam had been firing form. Luckily missing the Irishman.
Down the torso … nothing
More ice, and the construct knocks the ice ramp from under Jean, tumbling him toward the ground, but the Frenchman was quick enough to create another ice path before he fell to the ground. Another blast from the Irishman, more scratched and dented metal, but no great damage.
Down the left leg … there … a light, flickering, a pilot in a compartment … a target, a shadow, a weakness
Schima smiled … we are stronger together, … but not just stronger, we are a team together.
Thu Dec 20, 2018 3:21 am
17 Dec 2018 recap – the final episode
Schima, sensing the pilot of the automaton through the shadows, smiled . No need to bash through the steel armor when there are shadows …
The shadows in the leg cockpit bent to Schima’s command and wrapped around the pilot. … Patience, we have patience
Behind the Shadow Walker, the combat continued. The Prussian acrobat, severely injured, bamphs into the water away from the dock, to avoid additional attacks from the mechanical cat and to was off the oil he was covered in, as Miss A starts to goat ramming the mechanical cat. More ice and moon blasts, and the giant construction smashes the base of the crane and swipes at Liam.
Through the shadows Schima reaches a tendril out and engulfs the pilot’s head … smoke, fire, the pilot compartment is a death trap, … “ ‘escape’ We tell you to flee for your life” …
The fight continues, but in the far background a Prussian curse echoes across the water and again bamph … into a crowd of bystanders … “Run, flee” the blue furred Damon yells, pointing at a gathering wave forming in the lake, and beginning to push toward the dock.
The leg compartment dislodges from the automaton and rockets into the night sky, as the metallic dragon shoots up from the head of the giant. The mechanical behemoth shutters and freezes in place
Schima/Roger turns and sees the giant wave now … rushes to the side of Faith, as Miss A again rams the metallic cat. As the British spy reaches the lady who has turned and hobbled away for the rapidly approaching wave, shadows engulf the 2 …. And the automaton explodes …. Sending a wave of fire and debris across the dock …. Moments later the wave smashes into the dock.
Helplessly Roger/Schama and Faith watch from the shadow realm as the wave crushes the dock, over turns the nearby ships, floods the surrounding buildings and the heroes toss like flotsam in the flood.
As the water recedes, and Schima’s shadows help wrench the heroes from the watery pull into the lake’s depths, one after another a survivor is found … all alive save Jean Claude . the French Ice Knight pulled onto the dock limp, lifeless.
Roger leaves the office of the 2 Special Agents of the Office of the interior working in Chicago. A threat this great, a machinist that can build a boat that transforms into a giant steel monstrosity and an individual that controls the elemental power water to an extent that can destroy an entire ship yard, is too much for a group of friends even with their super powers. The English, the American, the government agents and the civilians must work together to protect the population. Soon enough wanted posters with the two bank robbers, murders, and picture are sent to the surrounding cities, then the region, then the entire NE of the US, and eventually throughout the nation.
The hunt is on, and there are more hounds than just Schima.
The bruised and battered friend set in the parlor of newly purchase and renovated hotel. Mostly healed from their deadly, nearly catastrophic fight thanks to Miss A’s and Miss Faith’s exceptional powers.
The Body of Jean Claude lay in formal state, as befitting on officer of the Emperor Napoleon’s own Young Guards, and in a few hours to be taken to a good Catholic mass.
Miss A’ finances, Roger’s political connections, and the French General Alcide Rodin influence ensured a speedy shipment of the body to Jean Claude’s beloved France.
A somber time, good port and brandy, and all questioning their choices and the life forced on them due to their exceptional nature. A dangerous life. A life some setting, viewing their deceased French friend, may turn their back on.
Roger glanced at the newspaper laying on the table …. Local dock yard destroyed by ship docked for repair, strange boiler malfunction, carrying explosive experimental oils and fuels. A freak storm out in the lake causing a storm surge wave to crash ashore moments after the explosion. Massive destruction.
The Queen’s gold, aided by the agents of the Interior office, ensured the proper story was told. Yes there were some eye witnesses, but with it being night dark, who is to say what was seen and what was assumed, what was imagined, what was drink fueled. …
The British spy saluted his French friend one last time and gulped the thick brandy.
Exceptional dangerous opponents [stop]
Mechanic build monstrosity of war machines [stop]
Elementalist exceptional powers over water [stop]
Turns water into acidic gas, create wall of wave [stop]
Criminal history bank robbing [stop]
Willingly endanger local population [stop]
Wanton destruction of entire ship yard [stop]
Will unbalance power where ever they are [stop]
Endanger to any shipping [stop]
Danger to America, Canada, England, any other interest in area shipping [stop]
The Section Chief of American Operations of the British Secretary of Foreign Affairs read the decoded messages . Read between the lines on the new papers, the official reports and the unofficial reports, and wondered. What would the Home Office of the Secretory of Foreign Affairs make of the spy hero. What would the orders be? Who has taken notice of the young Master Mosby?
Master Charles Olin Dyer , leaning against the trunk of the tree in the small garden park across the street of the house rented to provide for the ‘ Street Boy’s ‘ as Master Mosby had taken to calling the orphans and street boys. Looking at his notes from the few months of tutoring the boys, and at times talking with and debating with the boys’ benefactor – well one of the 2 benefactors, he should not forget the young Miss A .
Today’s lesson had been normal enough, but the post lesson debate was different. Master Mosby seemed ….. sadder. Not surprising with the death of his friend … a French man who died as Master Mosby stated “Chasing a pair of bank robbers along the lake wharfs, onto a ship, when the boat exploded and threw him into the lake. A fitting death for a dammedable French Caviler charging direct into the fray”
But not just sadder than normal … more settled, less combative, centered , … accepting. Strange compared to other debates.
Charles Dyer startled as he noticed in the setting sun’s twilight Master Mosby step from behind the chimney atop the roof. No ladder, no roof top trap door, just stepping from the roof top shadows. Then as a match flashed and the Englishman lit a cigar and pulled a flask for a belt … there was another there …. One, then two, both, then one on the left, then one on the right, then both again. Mosby’s face lit by the glow of the cigar as it is puffed on, then again the one on the left alone covered in shadows. Back and forth as the shadows flowed. Back and forth on the roof top. A mirror of movement, 2 friends greeting …
Master Dyer blinked as a hackney cab clattered along the street with the cabbie cracking his whip and yelling at the misbehaving horse.
Glancing up to the roof top … empty. A half smoked cigar crushed and smoldering on the chimney top.
Mistress Sonja Fergus, otherwise known as the Queen of Spades blinked in surprise. She had been reclining in her drawing room comfortably, the door to her office closed and locked the room night dark. Then from behind the door a whisper of a sound and a metallic clunk.
Ready for danger – The Queen of Spades despite her exceptional mental powers did have powerful enemies herself – she opens the door to the darkened room.
On her desk a coat wrapped package … carefully unwrapped, … a few tools, 2 wanted poster and bag of gold . The tools and coat both ties to two individuals, one of which she had recently searched for with the focus of a child hood baseball. The wanted poster showed names, aliases and warnings of exceptional powers and abilities, along with an impressive list of crimes. The sums on the poser were equally impressive. But the bag of gold, more weighty still.
A note written in familiar – she had been in the writer’s mind before – script neatly penned well formed .
These 2 die, We have the corpses and the Queen’s gold is doubled. We will pay triple that if they are delivered to us, or we to them in a position of advantage. Plus, we will forget our grudge against your invasion of our mind. RMS
The beautiful read head dancer and mentalist shuttered at the initials. The letter written in the British spy’s hand but the initials different than any remembrance she had from her invasion of his mind.
A blending of the English noble and his nightmare
Another shutter at the thought
Roger stepped into the shadows, engulfed by / become Schima. Glancing around the bleak shadow scape. Glom, cold, strange and twisting. However, now, not alien and nightmarish, not comforting nor welcoming, but … bearable acceptable. Usable.
“We …. Are “
Thu Dec 20, 2018 5:38 pm
Ouch. Death by Finals week....
Farewell Jean Claude, you've laughed your last laugh!
Fri Dec 21, 2018 3:30 am
Ouch. Death by Finals week....
Farewell Jean Claude, you've laughed your last laugh!
Well finals Week has killed more than 1- students' dreams, parents' finances, professors' patience, and the list can go on. So I guess it is fitting.
We did try and save everyone, but the explosion and the wave back to back. Plus the ruling we couldn't spend victory points on those that weren't present to save them from death was to much to over come.
Heck, sadly, I think this was the best possible outcome there could have been. At least 2 others were in single digits HP at the end.
Oh well, time to focus on Fantastical Victory and get ready to give Tree's sapling a run for her money
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