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[lawastooshort]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Sorry; bit rushed. I'll try to get a status update and perhaps an epilogue and then perhaps the start of chapter two done tomorrow, or the day after.

[Darvi]

Catch the briefcase mid-air.

>Napkin: Drop.

Sod it.

[scriver]

Pick up briefcase from ground and give it to Link.
"Ah job bloody well done, say you not? No air ship, unfortunately, but I am certain this will be enough. Now, I would call for celebration and good spirits, but I believe we have some fare wells to say first."

Walk over to the house and pick up the pieces of my fallen comradepipe. It deserved a better end than rotting away in the dirty ground. Oh, and also carry William's body to the car.

[lawastooshort]

Chapter One, Afterword
10.14pm, Friday 18th January 1906, Oxford Street, London.

After having seen to Wallace's body the five remaining gentlemen spies had a long drive back to Oxford Street, where Sir William Melville had a fine restorative breakfast prepared for them and where, after a long nap in his luxurious bedrooms, the five gentlemen had congregated back in Melville's fine Georgian drawing room. It had undergone a few repairs since the night before, but still showed the signs of the desperate struggle that had taken place. They sat now about the long table that had been brought into the centre of the room to cover one of the bloodstains.

Melville, as is his wont, rises at the head of the table with a cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other.

"Gentlemen. I hereby propose a toast." Murmurs of approval ripple around the room.

"To Mr Thomas Wallace. He fought for King and Country; he died of being too perfect a gentleman. Except the bloodthirstiness, of course. We shan't speak about that. He fought for his liege, and he fought for his comrades in nobleship; he died of overwhelming internal injuries, and he died of a fate inflicted by his own idiot hand."

"He died," and here Melville reaches an excitable crescendo, "he died because he dared. He dared to be the perfect gentleman, and in all he did he strove towards that great ideal. Well, since last night, at least. And he was a bit bloodthirsty perhaps. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I've been speaking to the prime minister, and we're going to put the fellow forward for a posthumous knighthood. It's the least I can do, and I'd do the same for everyone of you fine men. So raise your glasses again. To Sir Thomas Wallace!"

In the cosy drawing room with the roaring fire, glasses clink and cries of "To Sir Thomas Wallace!" bounce back and forth across the masterwork mahogany table. The cries are loud and joyous; many a cigar and glass of port has been finished off since the gentlemen arose in the late afternoon.

"Now," continues Melville, "back to business, as distasteful as the word is. The King himself is rather pleased at the efforts of last night; it seems that in the briefcase you brought me back Link were not just the blueprints but also the details of the Dreadnought's armour plating. If the Germans had got hold of that they could have wiped out the considerable advantage we hope to gain with her construction."

"I am most definitely going to have more work for you - indeed, I should wish that, should you wish to continue in this fine and gentlemanly line of work, that the five of you meet me for dinner, here, in exactly one week. I am very sure that I will need your efforts; I have received a telegram this afternoon that has slightly perturbed my calm. Until then, you are dismissed. Spend well your time sirs, knowing that a gentleman's life, if he is a true gentleman, can be extinguished in one moment - whether that one moment be a moment of inspired folly, or a moment of insipid fate. Good night sirs, and God bless."

Item Acquired! Wellington acquires two fine dueling pistols!

Item Acquired! Wellington acquires a ruined top hat!

Item Acquired! Von Fersen acquires remnants of a finely engraved pipe!

Item Acquired! Smith acquires a ruined top hat!

Item Acquired! Link acquires a briefcase!

Gentlemanliness Increased! Wellington fights a duel!

Gentlemanliness Increased! The Gentlemen save King and Country!

Skill Acquired! McGeenyton acquires Tedious Oratory! (+1 to chance of speeches taking so long the enemy is negatively affected! Increases chances of Death by Dull Conversation!)


Time Acquired! You have one week! What will you do?

[Darvi]

Return the briefcase to whomever it belongs to. Also, get those biscuits and have a tea party with the other mentlegen.

[Firelordsky]

Wallace's ghost comes to congratulate them on the successful mission.(What happened to my Black Watch?)

[Geen]

Ask around for any new gadgets from our loyal support team. And pay my respects to that poor Scotsman who I barely got to know.

[_DivideByZero_]

Head to my residence and place my top hat inside a commemorative display case of sorts, before heading to the hat shop and purchasing the finest one  I can. Afterwards, head to the mechanic and see if he can make a few... changes to the new one.

[scriver]

Lots of stuff to do!

- Compose said poem, and send it to suitably gentlemanly paper/journal for publication.
- Visit Wallace's funeral/memorial service
- Visit a doctor about my eye, and if nothing can be done, have a suitably gentlemanly eye-patch made, and inquire about other options.
- Visit London's finest pipe boutiques and repositories in search of a replacement for my old pipe. If no good enough pipe can be found, use spare pipe until further notice. Inter old pipe's remains on desk in my drawing room.
- Visit Link's tea party.
- Visit other people's parties and tell grand stories about my adventures.
- Go hunting with my most trusted old dog, so we'll at least do one more hunt together.

...I seem to be running out of week, so let's just stop here.

Oh, and for the next assignment, can I bring my own rifle? And the umbrella, of course. Which seem to be a sword-umbrella, judging by my inventory sheet.
...I was not aware of that. I thought you forgot that part. But it's awesome!

Though I won't be carrying the gun myself at what I suppose will be another briefing, of course. So maybe not.

[areyoua]

Look for a new hat, pay respects to Wallace, go to Link's party and try to get an appointment with WG Grace to get some advice on my very violent cricketing tendencies.

[lawastooshort]

Interlude
 
4.37pm, Thursday 24th January 1906, Mr John Link's fine London residence.
 

Return the briefcase to whomever it belongs to. Also, get those biscuits and have a tea party with the other mentlegen.

Having failed to locate the original owner of the retrieved briefcase [2], Mr John Link is instead hosting a tea party at his London residence with his new gentlemen acquaintances. The tea, served by an army of highly trained servants, is particularly good; but, in the nationwide biscuit shortage that has all of a sudden struck the country, Link has been unable to provide biscuits of sufficient quality [1]. They are, in fact, rather poor, and morale amongst the gentlemen is, accordingly, at a rather low ebb. Thoughts soon turn to other matters though.
 
Trait Acquired! Inferior Biscuit Acquistion! (-1 to acquiring biscuits)
 
Item Acquired! Dangerously Hard Biscuits!

Gentlemanliness Increased! Tea Party In Difficult (Biscuit-related) Circumstances!
 

Head to my residence and place my top hat inside a commemorative display case of sorts, before heading to the hat shop and purchasing the finest one I can. Afterwards, head to the mechanic and see if he can make a few... changes to the new one.

Amongst the discussions of favoured bowtie techniques and port vintages, the voice of William Wellington can be heard, recounting forlornly the substandard work done on the display case he had commissioned for his once-proud top hat [2]. The cheer does not in the slightest return to his dulcet tones when he explains that he has had difficulties obtaining a suitable replacement [1+1], but his hushed whisper draws in his audience as he describes the adjustments the Service’s mechanic has made to the previously inferior top hat that currently sits resting comfortable in the crook of his arm [6].
 
“Apparently,” he explains, “all one has to do is press in the maker’s badge inside” – and with that the circle of gentlemen lean in to take a closer peak – “and then the fragmentation device is armed! Remarkable, eh? Weighs the same as a normal top quality top hat, but they reckon it could take out a dozen men at a time! Explodes on impact, don’t you know.”
 
Item Acquired! Fragmentation Top Hat!
 

Ask around for any new gadgets from our loyal support team. And pay my respects to that poor Scotsman who I barely got to know.

“I say,” interjects Henry McGeenyton. “They do have some clever chappies in the mechanical division don’t they, what? They built me this double barreled cane gun for me [4], and out of respect for that dear fellow Wallace they gave it a tartan trim! Rather fetching don’t you think?”
 
Item Acquired! Double Barreled Walking Stick! With Tartan Trim!
 

Wallace's ghost comes to congratulate them on the successful mission.(What happened to my Black Watch?)

All of a sudden McGeenyton pauses for a seconds and then exclaims, as if struck by otherworldly [4] inspiration –
 
“I must say. I imagine that, were he here today, that poor Wallace would be sure to want to offer his congratulations, although I’m sure he wouldn’t be so ungentlemanly as to overplay his contributions, bloodcurdlingly heroic though they were. I wonder whatever happened to those brave soldiers accompanying us on the battlefield? I must be off; I shall telegram their commander to offer our thanks, gratitude, and recommendation of extra tea rations. I wonder if we shall ever fight side by side again?”
 
With that, McGeenyton leaves to find a butler to speak to about sending a telegram.
 
Gentlemanliness Increased! Gentlemanly Gratitude!

 
McGeenyton shakes hands with von Fersen as he leaves – the Swede has just arrived rather late, and is brandishing – rather excitably, it has to be said, but then we can forgive our continental friends such a display of emotion – a copy of Gentleman Hunter’s Weekly [4] in one hand, and his own hunting rifle in the other.
 
“I say chaps,” he begins, “I’m a published writer! A little vulgar, I know, but rather dashing, what? I’ve written an ode to my pipe over eight stanzas, with a little side reference to our dear Wallace. I’ve already had a letter from a lady admirer! All terribly exciting, eh? The distressing thing was that not only did I nearly miss his funeral [1], I nearly missed it because I couldn’t find my blasted rifle, and when I did find it, it accidentally went off in my bloody face and blew my eye clean off [1]. Needless to say I was a few minutes late for the funeral and my late entrance was met with considerable disapproval.”
 
“Luckily I’d had a rather magnificent day’s hunting the day before with my best dog [5], so having injured both my eyes severely with exploding guns wasn’t the inconvenience it might have been. And fortunately I know a bloody good surgeon on Harley Street and he fixed the right one right up, as you can see. It’s a wonder what a fine brandy can do for one, eh [5]. He said there was nothing to be done for the left eye though and plucked the rest of it right out! I say [2]. But then I did get this tremendous eye patch – particularly pleasing, I thought, it’s of especially masterful quality, 24 carat gold too with a magnificent engraving of my family crest upon it [6]. Goes well with my new pipe, don’t you think?”
 
Trait Acquired! Published Poet!
 
Trait Acquired! Dangerous Misfires! (+1 to chance of exploding guns causing injury)
 
Wound Acquired! Left Eye Blown Clean Off!
 
Wound Healed! Right Eye Healed Completely!
 
Item Acquired! Copy of Gentleman Hunter’s Weekly!
 
Item Acquired! Own Fine Hunting Rifle!
 
Item Acquired! Masterwork Gold Eye Patch! (+1 to Gentlemanliness when worn)
 
Item Acquired! Finely Crafted Pipe!
 
Caddishness Increased! Slightly Late For a Funeral!
 
At that moment, with “I says” and “Rathers” murmuring across the room, Winston Smith arrives [2].

Look for a new hat, pay respects to Wallace, go to Link's party and try to get an appointment with WG Grace to get some advice on my very violent cricketing tendencies.

"Awfully sorry old chaps. Been up in Gloucestershire training with W.G. Grace. I say, terrifically enlightening fellow, he's been working on my batting skills [6]"

"The W.G. Grace? My word!" exclaims Wellington, astounded. "I say, magnificent top hat," he adds, as a true connoisseur.

"Thanks awfully kind sir. Took me two days to find it - took the hatmaker a day just to measure my head correctly for a good fit [5]. Magnificent, as you say. Anyway, I had it done just in time for Wallace's wedding in fact, and his family were rather pleased, I have to say [6]. They gave me these, family heirloom, apparently - fancy a bit of the old bagpipes, gentlemen?"

Skill Acquired! Baseball Cricket Fatality! (+1 to Weaponised Baseball Cricket!)

Item Acquired! Masterwork Top Hat! (+1 to Gentlemanliness when worn)

Item Acquired! Mysterious Ancient Bagpipes! (Mysterious)

[Darvi]

Fuck yes cookiekens.

[lawastooshort]

Chapter Two - The Grand Tour
 
 
On Friday the 25th January, in the year 1906, five fine gentlemen find themselves seated the library of Sir William Melville’s fine Oxford Street residence, having very recently luncheoned. It is approximately eleven minutes past the hour of one in the afternoon.
 
A butler enters, carrying, in one hand, the requested second bottle of port on a silver platter; in the other he carries what appears to be an umbrella.
 
“Excuse me von Fersen,” the butler starts, “I have a package the engineer has asked me to send up. It appears to be some form of umbrella-sword sir.”
 
He leaves as quietly as he entered, and von Fersen tests the umbrella-sword for weight and balance, before testing it again for comfort carried under his arm. It seems a perfect fit.
 
Item Acquired! Umbrella-Sword!
 
The gentlemen continue their discussion on the likely best runners for the year’s flat season when, another quarter of an hour later, the same butler comes back.
 
“Sir Melville will see you now,” says the butler, whose name might well be Jenkinson.
 
He leads them through to the now familiar drawing room, espionage hub of the British Empire.
 
 
 
Sir William Melville rises from behind his imposing desk as the gentlemen enter.
 
“I’ve got some bad news gentlemen; I’m going to have to send you to Switzerland. While we were all rather busy stopping those damnable Germans, a bloody Spaniard got away scot-free with some similar paperwork that was just as important. I can’t believe that idiot Pointington-Smythe-Jones as good as gave away the secrets of the King twice in one day, what. I might have to do something about him soon.”
 
Melville sits back down, musing for a second as he pours himself some brandy.
 
“I do say – help yourselves from the drinks cabinet. We’re meant to be on rather friendly terms with the Spanish, so he wasn’t suspected until it was too late and was never stopped at the border. Never bloody expected a Spanish indiscretion. I once met a Spaniard, did I ever tell you about that? It was partly because of him that I grew so fond of cheroots when I was younger. Always was a Cuban man at heart, but still, that’s what one’s youth is for, eh? A bit of experimentation?”
 
“Anyway, this Spaniard – not the one I met, I’ll tell you about him another time – he fled to Spain, and one of my agents picked him up in Madrid and followed him and his valise across the Pyrenees and through France to Geneva. The Swiss aren’t especially keen on all the spying going on at the moment, so when the Spaniard was… anonymously denounced, they arrested the bugger! Ha, the Spaniard wasn’t expecting an interrogation, that’s for sure. Or two years under lock and key. Problem is, we can’t find his key – the one to the left luggage locker where he left the valise with the paperwork. The Germans can’t either, but they’re not going to just give up, are they? No sirs. They were expecting to get it, and they still do.”
 
The spymaster rises again, and points to G, sitting until now unnoticed in the corner of the room in a comfortable chair.
 
“So this is where Mr… hurrumph, well, let’s just call him G, for the moment, yes… where Mr G comes in. G here has just arrived from Geneva, and apparently Count von Klinkerhoffen arrived two days ago. It’s not a coincidence, I know he’s up to no good – he’s in the Prussian intelligence don’t you know. Dined with him quite a few times in fact. Always best to keep up good relations. Bloody good shot he is, can down a grouse from about 500 feet. Fine dancer. Good rider. Well known about Mayfair too. Almost more bloody English than an Englishman, the swine. Probably doesn’t understand cricket though eh!”
 
“Anyway. I have reason to believe he is going to organise a break in to retrieve the blasted paperwork, there’s no other way he’s going to be able to get it for two years without the key. Gentlemen, I don’t profess to know if this is all about our fine ship, but those Germans are getting particularly frisky all ready this year. Something is afoot, and we’re damn well going to put an end to it.”
 
“Now. You’re going to have to be careful. The Swiss are getting quite finicky about this kind of thing, there’s just too much damn spying going on in their territory for their liking – it’s a meeting place for most of Germany and all of Europe, and they’re getting strict about it.”
 
“You’ll have to be discreet. I have to warn you – if you succeed in this task there’ll be very little thanks; if you fail, there’ll be even less help. Everyone around you will be foreign, you might not be able to get a decent cup of tea, and it mightn’t rain enough, but you must stop the Germans from retrieving that valise. It’s in left luggage locker 4a, Geneva Central train station. If you leave now you’ll be able to get the midday train to Dover and then get the night train to Geneva once you cross the Channel. I’ve had the butler telephone ahead to book you rooms at the Hotel Masson and your tickets will be waiting at the station. God’s speed, and all that.”
 
 
You have two hours to get to Waterloo Station. Any final preparations?

[Darvi]

Train in the usage of cookiekens.

And get that bow tie fixed.

Offer the new gentleman some cookies, but apologise for the bad quality.

[Firelordsky]

You guys will probably be seeing me not post here.