Chapter One Part FiveThe Prussian Ultimatum Kindly address the Preussian schweinehunde in a non-threatening way.
"Ah, good sirs, you see, a great misfortune has fallen upon me. I was on my way to a fabulous hunting party at a fellow gentleman's estate over in Canterbury when my best gun dog, a black-coated retriever, got it in his mind to run away - God knows why, he's never shown any such disposition before. Nonetheless, I find myself in this miserable position as I can not leave for my friend's without him, and me and my butler has been forced to look for him all night.
Oh - but forgive me, I forget my manners. I am August von Fersen. A pleasure to meet you." I hold my hand out to greet them. "You wouldn't have happened to spot such a loose dog, would you?"
If they fall for my ruse and go leave me alone, I follow them at a distance, wherever they head next.
Calm in the face of the Germans' interrogation, von Fersen explains that he is out in the streets in this ghastly weather searching for his best hunting dog [6+2]. The German pair are more than convinced: it seems that they aspire to the position of gentlemen themselves, and they have such sympathy for von Fersen's terrible, although imaginary, plight that they offer themselves to help the courageous Swede with his search!
Experience Gained! You have gained considerable experience in Masterful Pipe Holding (+1 to Gentlemanliness whilst holding a pipe)
Gentlemanliness Increased! Calm in the Face of Disaster Amongst Fellow Gentlemen!
Elsewhere, after speaking to the constable, John Link looks for a shop which might happen to be open at this hour from which he can purchase some biscuits - after all, one never knows when one might be required to partake in tea [1].
He knocks on the door of a likely looking establishment and enters.
When later recounting the anecdote to his most trusted gentlemen confidants, Link couldn't for the life of him remember which, in the resulting confusion, took place first: his recognition of Charles Frederic Moberly Bell, the distinguished editor of the most distinguished and influential Times of London, and his friend and majority shareholder the Marquis of Leicester, owner of an estate of upwards of sixty thousand acres somewhere in the North; or his realisation that not long after 2 o'clock in the morning he was in a house of ill repute in the port of Dover with many sailors.
They both clearly recognised him; they had both been to many of Sir Jack Link's dinner parties: John Link was left with nothing to do but beat a hasty and mumbling retreat.
Gentlemanliness Increased! The Importance of Tea and Biscuits!
Caddishness Severely Increased! Disgraceful Public Scandal! Found In a Brothel!
Hmmmm, biscuits.
Purchase some. You never know when the next teatime begins.
Wait, wasn't Fersen supposed to be following me? Blimey, let's find him.
He hurriedly closes the door and turns back into the cold winter's night and, in the shock, forgets his biscuits and realises he has mislaid his Nordic companion von Fersen. He tries to remember where he last recalled seeing him, and although he is still mentally reeling from the sudden blow, as it were, of finding himself publicly recognised in a brothel by his father's business acquaintances, he manages [5] to trace his way back to where von Fersen should, and indeed still does, find himself.
Quite bizarrely, he appears to be walking the streets of the port of Dover at around 2 o'clock on a cold wintry morning calling out for his hunting dog with two gentlemen who are unequivocally of the German persuasion.
Offer the angry Germans tea.
As Link stands at the end of the street wondering what to make of the strange and foreign threesome he sees before him, Henry McGeenyton wanders up to the very same disturbingly Germanic threesome and offers the Prussians tea [1].
Unfortunately, McGeenyton is not quite so proficient in German as he believed, and manages to insult them both horribly! It is all they can do not to beat the man with their umbrellas immediately – in the face of this shining English paragon of gentlemanliness they realise the correct thing to do is to challenge the insulter to a duel.
“You may choose both the weapon, and whether to face us vun by vun or both at the same time, son of a schweinehunde! But you may not choose the time! Zis time vill be now!” they conclude, getting angrier and more vaguely European as they speak.
At this moment Link strolls towards the now angry and gesticulating foursome, and leans in towards von Fersen, set slightly apart from the other three smoking his pipe distinguishedly and wondering whether to keep up the pretence of looking for his dog or whether to reveal the truth, and his friendship with McGeenyton, and risk losing a little gentlemanly face.
“What the devil is going on?” softly inquires the bemused Scot of the Swede.
The Waterloo Deception What to do with the shifty German? He may be von Junker, he may be no one important, and he could be a decoy. Then again, he is a German...
Ask to see what is in the attache case. If he starts running, try to hit him in the hand with the case so that he drops it, then his legs to stop him from running. You can't escape the U.S. Marshals MI:G! If he refuses, mumble something about Normandy, and let Wellington try to convince him to let us look at it.
As the German approaches where Winston Smith is waiting on Platform 4a of Waterloo Station, the American steps into his path and demands to see what is in smart leather attaché case he is carrying [1].
The cunning descendant of the Visigoths shouts out in alarm, crying "Thief! Thief!" and as two police constables who happened to be passing run to his rescue he pushes brusquely past the American and his companion and makes his escape. He flees down the platform towards the station exit!
The two police officers run towards Smith, ordering him to stop in the name of the Law!
Caddishness Increased! Publicly Scandalised!
Follow through with the plan, brandishing my top hat in case he takes off.
Luckily Wellington was ready with top hat in hand [6+1], and strolling briskly to intercept the running German he launches the hat in a deadly arc which connects with the villainous spy's head and takes it clean off the stump of his neck with the elegance of a new-born lamb being swiped by a golden eagle on a desolate Highland peak.
Wound Inflicted! His head falls off! He is deceased!
As the German's headless corpse crashes to the ground on the semi-deserted platform at Waterloo, Wellington gentlemanly and authoritatively approaches the two police constables attempting to chastise Smith and calmly explains the situation [4+2]. They realise their error and apologise profoundly to the American, offering what help they can in the continuation of the gentlemen's vital quest.
Experience Gained! Top Hat Maestro! (+1 to Top Hat Fu)
Both Wellington and Smith approach the body of their erstwhile opponent. Smith gives the corpse a gentle prodding with his deadly walking
bat stick: he is undeniably deceased. As gentlemen, both remove their hats, before quickly getting to the business of attempting to open the attaché case. It falls open as easily as snow falling upon the ground; the hollow thud of its opening echoes across the vast halls of Waterloo like the batteries of cannon did upon the fields of the same name nearly a century ago.
The attaché case is empty.
A Useful Chat In Dover
Go talk to the locals and find out anything that could help us.
Meanwhile, several streets away from his companions in Dover, Thomas Wallace and his squad of fearsome highlanders are walking the streets, hoping against hope to happen upon a local who, at this time of night, might be able to tell them something useful [4].
He meets a group of fisherman who are returning from depositing their catch, and they accurately describe to the mighty band of Scots where they saw an illuminated and large apparent flying contraption, no more than one mile away, that nigh on a dozen men appeared to be readying for flight.
A Useful Afterthought In LondonAs Winston Smith rises from the empty attaché case upon the floor, William Wellington walks over to where his top hat has landed [5+1]. He bends to pick it up, and, as he straightens it back out into a form suitable for the adorning of a gentleman's head in London, out of the corner of his eye he spies a hurried figure a hundred yards or so away and rapidly nearing the great wide doors of Waterloo station, clearly carrying some sort of briefcase, and clearly running as fast as he can, in a manner that one could only, if asked to describe it in one word at a later date for one's chronicler, characterise as Germanic.
There is no doubt in Wellington's mind that this, and not the unfortunate decoy, is the infamous Hans von Junker.
[OOC note: The events at Waterloo are happening slightly before those at Dover, about an hour before – I figured either do both bits simultaneously to recreate the splitscreen tension of such
oeuvres as 24 or give the Dover group an extra turn of playing I see what you don’t see and what I see is a flying contraption with Darvi in the car. I can roll that missing turn for you if you wish; I can only speculate at the moment what would happen when half of you roll [1]s again...]