The Reid Legacy, a Tales from Dreaming Spires Play Report

 A one-shot play report for Liminal designed by Paul Mitchener.  The Reid Legacy was written and run by Sue at the 2021 - Tales from Dreaming Spires Con.

...Here Be Spoilers (and a slight amount of artistic licence)...

The Reid Legacy. It's being called an impossible theft,...

...but when a stolen book has the potential to reveal dangerous magic to the general public, P-Division doesn't get to use words like 'impossible'. As a member of the Magical Theft and Artifact Containment squad [MTAC], your job is clear. Find the stolen book. Protect the innocent. And make sure the Hidden World stays hidden.

The crew is in P-Division's briefing room at a filthy time of the morning.  The coffee is bitter and the seats are hard, MTAC are Brother Andrew Gow, the Order of St Bede's bearded Media officer, Morgan, the SOCO (Scene of Crime Officer),  Jess Right, the Firearms Officer, the only one of them to be trusted with a gun, consultant historian George Harris and their stern leader Detective Karen Anderson.  

George fidgets with his London Book of  Otherworldly Shenanigans, his own personal notes of a lifetime of scouring London for the odd, spooky and downright life-threatening - he really shouldn't be here, he has a private lecture at half-past three as part of his Professional Space Clearing and Geomancy course, it's a lovely earner.  Detective Karen Anderson looks over her team and wonders what delights DI Skinner will unleash on them today, at least the weather is halfway decent, a pigeon lands on the window sill and pecks at the glass, seemingly offering up a challenge.

George Harris

DI Skinner has finished his briefest of briefings, they are all in their converted Citroen Xsara Picasso - people carrier extraordinaire, the conversion has basically ripped all the comfort out and replaced it with benches and boxes of essential supernatural equipment.  The windows have been blackened, they lurch and spill into each other as Andrew spins the vehicle round a corner, the removal of comfort also stretches to the suspension, there doesn't seem to be any, hard metal presses into flesh buttocks.  Andrew hums one of his favourite hymns, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, it's a favourite toe-tapper.  The others prefer Bruno Mars, but they know from past experience that Andrew's driving only deteriorates if they put any kind of upbeat pop on the radio.

Morgan has been tasked with delving into the history of a certain Edmund Reid, his diary was up for auction at Sotheby's, she reads again the letter that Skinner showed them:

She picks up her phone and notices the battery is dead, she nudges George, just as the van hits a pothole, a gentle nudge becomes a vicious dig in the ribs, he glares at her.  "George" whispers Morgan, "Do us a favour and look up Reid, get some info on him before we get to Sotheby's".  

George nods, rubbing his side and starts searching through his online database of London citizens.  Of course, it's that Reid!  Edmund Reid, the famous Detective Inspector, head of H Division at the time of the Ripper murders, some exciting links to druidism too.  George pipes up, "I was at the auction you know".  The group turn to him, he continues, "Yes, the Ripper museum and London Police museum put in bids but it was won by person or person unknown.".  He brandishes the letter from Cerdiwen Jones with a flourish, "Until now!" he exclaims.  The group nod and turn to concentrate on other matters, a few look a little queasy as the vehicle hits a kerb during another sharp turn.

The group meet Seem Agarwal, their contact at Sotheby's.  She is a picture of style and upper class cool, but behind this, they sense deep concern, the last thing Sotheby's need is another scandal.  Seema explains that the room was secured through electronic and physical locks, she personally oversaw the book being placed in the vault, but when it was opened to be handed over the winner it was gone.  The book it seems was put up for auction by a descendent of Reid, it is black-brown, A5 with a lock on it.

The Diaries of Edmund Reid

Morgan is keen to get down to the vault, so they all accompany her, as the group look around, they sense that many of the objects here have had contact with intense magical fields, but that is not so unusual in their experiences.  Andrew is busy performing a blessing of the room and in particular Morgan, every little helps.  Morgan has been investigating the air vent, it looks like it has been opened and not cleanly closed, there are tufts of brown fur, which she carefully bags.  Jess asks Seema for a map of the ventilation system, Anderson has opened her bag of tricks and hands Morgan an endoscopic camera.  Morgan pokes it into the vent, "Yes, I can see claw marks, scratches, leading on into the vent system."

Jess leans over to Anderson, "The vent system leads up on to the roof Sarge".  They head up onto the roof, more scratches and fur are found, both signs of entry and exit, but the little rodent footprints soon peter out.  George has been going over his own notebook, he announces to the group "I believe what we have here, can only be an infestation of wererats, not unknown throughout the history of London.  They stem from Anglo Saxon times, an interesting fact that during..."

George is cut short, Anderson's phone rings it is DI Skinner, as she explains what they have found, he cuts her short at the mention of wererats, "Listen, you need some help from the Hidden, contact Moth, just speak to any London vermin, the message will find it's way to her."

Anderson looks around, a pigeon is walking along the edge of the roof, she offers up to the group "Someone needs to talk to that pigeon, tell it we need to contact Moth,one of The Hidden.  Any offers?"  The rest of the group stare at Anderson and then back at the pigeon.  Andrew steps forward, "I believe, in the parlance of the time, I've got this."

Andrew has formed a pentangle with some of his cigarettes, within it he crumbles a custard cream and starts to gently coo.  Shortly, the pigeon approaches hops down to feast on the crumbs, whilst Andrew explains the mission, with a smattering of coos and a single boorkoo.  Once the crumbs are finished the bird flies off.

The Lord works in mysterious ways

Down on street level, the crew are in a back alley behind Sotheby's they have been waiting about 20 minutes.  A nondescript, plain, white woman with black hair enters the alley, "I'm Moth, a tunneler.".  The others bombard her with questions, about wererats, missing diaries.  She listens and gives out a few pieces of information;

• There has been an increased presence of rats down in the sewers in recent days
• If anyone knows anything about wererats it is the Queen Rat
• The Queen Rat love cheese, fancier the better, best to visit her with a gift

Andrew has put in for a delivery of artisan cheese - something stinky, something crumbly, something French and something different from Macclesfield.

After answering the questions, Moth sits down on the step and starts to gently sob.  Jess puts a hand on her shoulder and Moth turns, "Sorry, I'm not myself, my friend, Fliss, she's gone." signs Moth.  It turns out that another of the Hidden, Felicity Wallace, was attacked and killed last night.  "Look", says Moth, steel in her eyes, "You want to get to the Queen Rat?  I can take you, but you'll owe me - find out what happened to Fliss and get revenge?"  The crew gather around and nod in agreement.  Moth says, "Then first, we go to the Rookery, they have Fliss down there.  What's left of her."

A courier is peering down the alley towards them, "Did anyone order cheese, I need to hand this over, it's getting warm and I'm not sure my stomach can take the stench any more?"

Only the stinkiest will do...

Moth has taken the Crew to the Rookery, it feels like they are now out of time from the everyday London, somewhere near Petticoat Lane thinks George.  Andrew is treading carefully he knows there is magic here and danger is close.

On the way Moth has told them that Fliss was found by the Gherkin, there have been no rumours of what happened.

In a makeshift mortuary lies, the body of Fliss, Morgan advances reverentially and pulls back the cloth, what is underneath is pale and splattered with blood, she steels herself and begins to examine the girl.  The girl is missing an organ, her liver and is covered in horrific and brutal knife, bites and fingernail wounds.  On closer inspection, the bite wounds appear to be vampiric and the paleness of the body, suggest exsanguination.  As Morgan relays these findings to the group, George looks up in horror, "This is the exact Modus Operandi of Jack the Ripper."

Stepping back from the corpse, Morgan feels a hand on her shoulder, Andrew whispers in her ear, "I feel the girl's presence is still here, she may know more."  Morgan shudders, she knows Andrew is right but these acts sap her spirit, she reaches out to the spirit of Fliss.  After a brief and harrowing conversation, Andrew gives the final rites and lays Fliss' spirit to rest.

White and gaunt, Morgan turns to the group, "I talked to the girl, seems we have a vampire on the loose, not much of a description; male, tall, very pale, think David Bowie circa '75, big teeth as per the vampire norm and had modern, ill-fitting clothes." She turns to Moth, "Fliss loved you very much, but she urges you to move on now."  Moth, tears welling up, shakes her head, "No, I want that beast dead first." 

Scary monsters, super creeps.

Moth, true to her word leads them to the boundary of the Queen Rat domain, she turns to the group, "You can't all come it will unnerve her, just one?"  Andrew steps forward, he holds up the bag of cheese, the waft that comes with it at least gives them a brief respite from the stench of the sewers.

Moth and Andrew are in a large underground chamber, they see Queen Rat, she is sitting high up on a stack of crates, many rats, wererats and other things that crawl in the dark, surround her.  Moth makes introductions and Andrew explains why they are here.

Queen Rat

The Queen sits thoughtfully for a few moments, Andrew proffers the carrier bag of cheese, one of the larger wererats, next to the Queen, takes it sniffs and consults with the Queen, the conversation is whispered but he makes out "...the Macclesfield Tangy Truckle!?"

Eventually, the Queen nods, sniffs the fur found at Sotheby's and addresses Andrew, "It is good, your gift is most precious.  In return, we give you this, the wererat you seek is called French, he works for the notorious East End Ganglord, Black Bob Anderson.  French can be found on the top floor of 74 Brady Street.  Do what you wish with him.  Sweet cheese dreams, my loves."

Hurrying back to the Crew they say their goodbyes to Moth and promise that this vampire line will be ended.  Moth leads them to the surface and their awaiting vehicle, they jump in and make the short journey to 74 Brady Street.

Arriving at the front of Perfect Fried Chicken, Jess heads round the back and climbs the scaffolding, making her way onto the roof of No. 74.  Anderson rings the bell and the rest of the group head up to the top floor.  After knocking and not getting a response, Morgan looks under the door, she sees a body and sniffs, the unmistakable odour of blood and viscera.  Anderson's walkie talkie crackles, she answers it, it's Jess, "Sarge, I'm looking through the skylight, I can see a body on the floor and a lot of blood..."  Anderson charges the door and they burst in on a scene of bloody mayhem.

An hour later, the crew get ready to leave, they've I.D.'d the body of French, injuries are identical to Fliss - except a kidney is missing, they have found something under the pillow, a diary but not THAT one, and pages were torn out and burnt but only partially.  Morgan again has the dirty job of calling up the spirit of French, it seems he did steal Edmund's Diary and handed it over to a Mark Lawrence, an ex-member of the Order of St. Bede's and a contemporary of Andrew's.  Also with Lawrence were two weirdos, it is mentioned that Lawrence and his friends often held meetings at the Ten Bells public house, just a stone's throw away.  French's voice turns to anger as he recounts how the group came back with another figure, scary, tall, with pointed teeth and that was the end of him.

A lot of clues are piling up, the crew divide and conquer, Andrew, contacts the Bishop of Bath and Wells for more information on Mark.  After a brief conversation it seems that Mark has lost his faith, at least the part of the faith that believes the supernatural should be kept under wraps, he's left the order, but to what end?  That remains to be seen.   George is researching the Ten Bells, he finds that it has strong links to the Ripper murders and is a popular meeting place over the years for occult groups.

Finally, we try and decipher the partially burnt note:

Now it is obvious that Lawrence and his crew have tried to destroy evidence linking French to the theft of the diary, and likely he was to deliver it to the Ten Bells yesterday (Thursday), is it becoming a little clearer what is behind this?

The group head to the Ten Bells, George samples the ales and continues his research, whilst Andrew observes the clientele from their corner table.  Anderson and Morgan brace the landlord whilst Jess is outside scouting the joint.  George settles down to half-listen in, with a pint of Fourpure's Shapeshifter, an odd name for an IPA he thinks.

At the Ten Bells, try some Shapeshifter

A little more is learnt at the Ten Bells.  Mark Lawrence and his two friends have been using it to hold their regular occult meetings and the landlord confirms French was here, we assume it was to handover Reid's diary as per the partially burnt note.  The landlord didn't have much time for the group, they took over the back room with increasing regularity, much to the annoyance of his regular RPG club - Le Drinks & Dices.  So the timeline falls into place, the auction was on Wednesday, French stole the book Wednesday evening, on Thursday he handed over the book to Lawrence at the Ten Bells, on Friday, Fliss and French were murdered.

Andrew has not been idle, he has an address for Lawrence's flat, it's close by in Spitalfields, it seems the natural course of action is to now brace Lawrence - for the book, for the whereabouts of the vampire and find out what is behind this insane plan.

MTAC is scouting out the flat, jammers are in place to avoid any untoward filming of what is about to happen.  The team approaches the flat, they hear raised voices.  There is an argument.  As they listen on the street outside, they hear someone shout, "...he got out, we can't repeat that, he's very strong...", "Shhhh, not now." says a voice in response.  Knocking at the door Detective Anderson hears the voices fall quiet.  Eventually, there is a tense conversation through the wooden door, the occupants try to point out their civil rights, but with the mention of vampires, wererats and a certain diary, the door is opened and Mark Lawrence and his two associates step back to let the party enter.

Andrew leads the conversation with Mark, Mark admits to unleashing a vampire on London but defends this action, the people of London need to wake up and protect themselves, pretending these abominations don't exist helps no one.  Mark continues to rant, "Only when you see these creatures in the flesh, will you take them seriously and defined yourselves.  THAT is our duty, not to hide under our bedclothes!!!"  Andrew shakes his head at the poor, deluded fool, how could he have fallen so far.

A search of the building turns up the Edmund Reid Diary, the lock open, George eventually gets his hand on it and briefly outlines how Reid struck a deal with the Sodality of the Crown, Vampires one and all.  It seems this was the genesis of P-Division and a vampire/Jack the Ripper was eventually staked out and put to rest in the family vaults of Christ Church in Spitalfields.

The group head back to P-Division with the three miscreants.  Andrew interviews Mark again, this time he employs his famous charm to convince Mark to tell all.  Mark admits that the Vampire is indeed the Ripper, Jack himself and he unleashed the horror from the crypt below Spitalfields church.  As the light is fading the group face a mad dash to the church.  Andrew makes a call on the way, to the Verger at Spitalfields, "An unexploded bomb, in the crypt, get everyone out of there now and wait for us."

Christ Church, Spitalfields

MTAC arrive and head down into the crypt, a police cordon has been set-up by DI Skinner, they will not be disturbed from above.  The crypt is now a neat and modern cafe, but they spot a door in the back and head towards it, Jess and Morgan are armed with guns, loaded with silver bullets.  Listening at the door, they hear nothing, Andrew again blesses the group, whilst George hangs back, feeling somewhat vulnerable, he clutches his notebook and tries to call up some semblance of energy from this location, his geomantic powers are attuned to this area in particular, but he will old them in reserve for now. 

Anderson pushes open the door and they step into an older, run-down area of the crypt, stacked high with coffins, except, one of the coffins is open and a hand appears over the edge.

The Crypt at Spitalfields

Jess opens fire, spraying the coffin and the rising form of the vampire with hot silver bullets.  The vampire crawls out of it's coffin then stands up, it's head almost hitting the ceiling.  Anderson bawls at Morgan, "Shoot the bastard Morgan!".  Morgan tries to shoot, forgets the safety and tries again, the figure now looming over her, a few bullets hit the target but the rest splatter into the wall.  The creature reaches out for Morgan, who in her fear steps back, long nails rake across her front and she cries out.  Jess steps in front of Morgan and unloads the rest of the magazine into the beast, it flies backwards into the coffins, crashing to the ground.  A wind picks up in the crypt, as the flesh falls from the Vampire's bones, soon all that is left is a skeleton and that soon crumbles to dust.  The eerie wind dies away and soon all is quiet, all of them stare down at a small pile of dust, all that remains of Jack the Ripper.  Morgan, back on her feet, pulls out an evidence bag and a spatula.

Back on the street, calls are made to Skinner and Morgan's wounds are seen to.  Andrew is cooing at a one-legged pigeon, offering up a half-eaten custard cream, he intones, "Tell Moth we held up our end of the bargain, let Fliss now rest in peace."  The pigeon pecks the biscuit from Andrew's fingers, hops to the kerb and then takes flight, disappearing into another London sunset.