Resolute in their mission to aquire The Eye of Kilminster the party proceeds to hire a carriage leaving The Crimson Dawn in the care of its crew docked at the Dorston. Hugh DeBreton is brought along for his protection. The journey to the town of Kilminster is uneventful and the party soon arrive at the eerily quiet town in the shadow of Kilminster House.
The party makes first for the Inn noting the strange behavior of the locals and the presence of magical protection charms. Asking the Innkeeper about Kilminster House the party are told that Lord Kilminster dwells there but has not been seen in many years. In fact there has been no comings or goings to Kilminster House in some time. Taking a room in the Inn the party then strategises about the best way to obtain the Eye of Kilminster. Thomas volunteers to reconnoiter the house and set out in the pouring rain. Ultimately finding no way into Kilminster House other than the main gate nor getting any kind of idea what lies beyond its high walls Thomas returns to the Inn.
A plan is formulated amongst the party to attempt guile rather than force to aquire the stone. Mordecai, Miss Nightshade and Dr Walker will pose as Montaignaise scholars researching the ancestral lineage of Albion. While the Lord of the house is occupied Miss Nightshade is to excuse herself and search the house for the gem. Meanwhile Captain DeBrut, Thomas and N’batu will wait in the carriage outside the doors to Kilminster House ready to rescue their comrades at a moments notice since all involved are well aware this attempt could break into violence at any juncture. Vittorio volunteers to stay at the inn and protect the boy.
Arriving at Kilminster House the “scholars” are greeted by Lord Kilminster, an elderly and friendly old man who cheerfully welcomes them in and offers them hospitality. The Lord suggests to Thomas that he lead the carriage around to the stables at the rear of the estate, which Thomas does. Inside the manor Lord Kilminster offers wine to the party while discussing his family history as well as tales of his education in Londinium in a cheerful and absentminded way. Miss Nightshade soon excuses herself and is lead to the powder room by the Lord of the House. While Kilminster is absent Mordecai and Dr Walker quickly search the room. Abruptly both Miss Nightshade and Mordecai succumb to a sleeping potion in the wine they drank earlier while Dr Walker is grasped by the shoulder by Lord Kilminster and mystically commanded to sleep.
Captain de Bruit, N’batu and Thomas soon become concerned that something is wrong inside the house having heard nothing from the rest of the party for some time. They leave the carriage and attempt to enter the house however their attempts to break into the house are not immediately successdul so Captain DeBrut attempts to blow the doors off their hinges using grenades. This result in a violent explosion but the doors hold until N’batu manages to force them open.
The sound of explosions wakes Marcus Mordecai who finds himself in a wide dungeon locked in a cell with Dr Walker
to be continued
Op. Ed. for Session 4 – “There was a crooked man….” – Thursday 8th July 2010 – by Frithhill
Elapsed time 35 days real time, 14 days game time (26th July 1602 ?)
Location – Fleeing from Kilminster
Happily Lord Kilminster didn’t seem to find the unexpected guests who explained themselves as heralds from Montaigne, documenting the ramifications of some nobleman there any more specious than Marcus Mordecai, Lady Nightshade and Doctor Walker’s impression of a doddering, querulous and benign old man.
Meanwhile Frithhill, declared “Push him over and tie him up”, adding a few moments later, when they hadn’t done so, “….Or we could re-enact the plot of Arsenic and Old Lace instead”.
And sure enough, stupified by a sleeping draught in the wine he hospitality proffered his guests as he answered their questions they found themselves in a dungeon beneath Kilminster House. As a second hour dragged by Captain de Bruit, N’batu and Thomas Rede harboured a mounting alarm. No answer came to a knock on the door.
Though the courtyard was littered here and there with the debris of the usual domestic chattels, the gate hung warped and brittle on it’s hinges and the stable tottered, empty except for mouldering harness and rotten straw the door of the hall with it’s thick planks and un-corroded bands was too strong for the grenade exploded at the threshold. So, clambering onto the roof of the carriage, N’batu smashed in a window of the upper floor and Thomas Rede, N’batu and Captain de Bruit commenced a search of the house. Coming upon marks in the carpet of dust, they followed the trail left where Marcus Mordecai (or Doctor Walker) had been dragged to the head of a descending stair.
The scene they came upon was awful, a dead man who yet walked stood at the foot of the stairs. Beyond Doctor Walker fended off more at bars of his cell and Marcus Mordecai was invisible at the centre of a huddle of more still. Lady Nightshade still stuperose, lay bound on a altar-stone. A dropped lantern on the stair spilled it’s oil, which took fire, restoring illumination when it took hold of the struggling, staggering, burning undead. The sight of Lord Kilminster slipping away through a hidden door. and his unholy brood dragging away the insensible, mauled body of Marcus Mordecai spurred N’batu and Thomas to urgency. Soon the dismembered parts or burning skeletons of the zombies littered the charnel house. Lady Nightshade and Captain de Bruit, roused from un-natural slumber and sprawling collapse assisted the gentleman whose false nose had come unstuck, while N’batu and Thomas set out in search of the necromancer, Lord Kilminster. Emerging from the family crypt outside the walls, the last of a line fell under the bulk of the armoured man dropping on him from it’s top and could do no more than protest feebly before a blow to the head stopped him for all time.
Meanwhile a search of the house had discovered the stone, together with the products of the Kilminster families travels and solitary delvings; a knife of great use to a magician and a trove of knowledge in the form the assembled arcane lore of generations. Firing the house, with the corpus of it’s sole resident inside, a retreat seemed prudent.
At the Fish Mouth Inn, things were going badly with Vittorio Tornatore, left to watch over Hugh DeBreton. One minute he was enjoying the cellar and keeping the young royal entertained (by teaching him to play at cards), the next an surprising and unwelcome transformation had afflicted the landlord and staff. Barricading himself and a child whose experience of the world was increasingly rapidly in an upstairs chamber, he looked out to find the remaining inhabitants of the ill-fated village similarly changed. The carriage came barrelling down the road from the manor in the nick of time, a leap to the roof of the backing conveyance and away, pursued by the shrapnel of a score of undead, blown up as they turned from under the window, to crowd around the new quarry.
Shut in the stable, the saddle horse hired in Dorston wide eyed, panicked….