Turn 3: The Ring, the Wrath, and the Orangutan (Patreon)

[X][MYSTERYINC] The Benevolent Lodge of Mystery

[X][FATE] HEED MY WARNING

-[X] In the land of old Empires an army of darkness shall rise and plunge the world into madness before the turn of the century. (Aka the third reich)

[X][CAROL] The Lounge

-[X] Abigail Roth

[X][HENCH] Crane

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

From the Mystery Files of Fred Jones, Circa 2024

Name of Spook: The Ghost of Chief Redfeather

City and Date of Origin: Gotham, December 3rd 1900

Culprit: Wallace Abernathy

Motivation: Revenge

The Mystery:

Okay, so, this isn’t one of ours, but I’m still putting it here because it’s a major part of global mystery history. Back around the turn of the century, Josiah Arkham established the Lounge. It was a lot different back then: it was still a hot-bed of mystery, but it was a lot more seedy. At the time, the owner operated a museum filled with stolen and fake native artifacts meant to entertain people (It was even worse than it sounds: even back then it was considered tacky by several critics, and having seen pictures, that was severely understating it), including the body of one ‘Chief Redfeather’ a supposed powhatan shaman (identified by historians later as Mr. John Norton, a leather-worker of mixed ancestry who had donated their body to science) that had been stuffed and taxidermied.

According to the legend, he was an ancient enemy to the Kane family who had risen from the grave to stalk them, with his body disappearing from the Lounges exhibit shortly before his ghost began to stalk and terrorize the Kane clan, attacking them with a tomahawk. Eyewitnesses claim his specter was constantly covered in a strange, otherworldly fog. This eventually brought the Benevolent Lodge of Mystery, one of the first real mystery solvers of America, hired by the bars owner to prove his innocence. They managed to successfully discover not just the identity of the culprit, but why he was attacking and how he pulled off his disguise. Wallace Abernathy had been a former butler of the Kanes who had been arrested twenty years prior for stealing what would be in todays money 400 dollars worth of items from his employer (admittedly, a very not fair jail sentence, especially considering he was sentenced to Blackgate). Once he got out, he got a job at the Gotham Lounge, wherapon he would steal the body of Chief Redfeather and some of the Lounges dry ice used for the cold room in order to stalk and harass the Kanes under the guise of the Chief, attempting to pay them back for the misery they had subjected him to. Once caught, he confessed immediately, finding himself sentenced to another five years in prison before returning to work for the Lounge once again until his death in 1921 from old age.

It was one of the first major mysteries investigated by the Lodge outside of Crystal Cove, and while they would never forget their home, they thought Gotham and it’s mysteries were totally groovy, a sentiment I can get behind, deciding to make it and the Lounge their new headquarters.

(((())))

“And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling do-rights and your stupid monkey!” Abernathy yelled in a froth as he was dragged out of the Lounge. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my words, Benevolent Lodge of Mystery, you’re on my list! Do you hear me? Revenge! I will get my-” The door was slammed shut by Professor Arkham, who daubed a handkerchief on his brow.

“Yes, that’s enough of that, I should say,” He said, punctuating the end of the Lodges first successful mystery, before clearing his throat. “Well, Benevolent Lodge of Mystery, it appears I am within your debt,” The magician said, as humble as they could manage. “With Mr. Abernathy put away, I should be able to salvage at least some of my reputation: at the very least, I should be able to convince the newspapers to print some retractions.”

“No trouble my good man! We were all happy to help!” Oswald P Burlington exclaimed, giving a beaming grin, arms bent and hands resting at his side. “And frankly, this was one of the most exciting mysteries we’ve uncovered yet!”

“Easy fer you t’ say, Ozzie,” Scotty said, the young irishman letting out a breath. “You weren’t th’ fellow that had t’ be chased by the spook. Frankly, I feel like I’ve lost ten years off my lifespan.” A moment later, his stomach let out a growl. “Plus, all that running brought me a wee bit of appetite.”

Josiah clapped his hands. “Ah, we can’t be letting our heroes go hungry! Jacobs! Fire up the stoves and take our guests order! And gentlemen- and ladies-” He said, giving a respectful nod to the two women of the group, Miss Marianne Blanchard and Frau Abigail Gluck. “-Don’t concern yourself with cost: from now on, the Benevolent Society of Mystery eat and drink at the Lounge totally free!”

“Well, I say,” Miss Blanchard purred in a rich southern accent, the belle extremely pleased with the treatment. “You do know how to show gratitude, Professor! I could certainly go for some food right now: I heard just WONDERFUL things about the fruit salad.”

“I could go for a drink as well,” Frau Gluck said, removing and polishing her glasses, while from the hole that allowed for one in the kitchen to gaze at the lounge a head popped out: Mark Jacobs, the chef.

“On it boss!” Jacobs called from his position at the stove. “A fruit salad for the lady: can I ask what the rest of you would like to order?”

Scotty O’Rourke gave a big grin. “Well, since it’s free, I for one would LOVE a nice, meaty steak! Ah, perhaps some roast potato to go with it- Ah, and do you have eggs?” He queried, clapping his hands at Jacobs nod. “Ah, I’ll take five boiled eggs, then, alongside a nice salad- served dry, preferentially- a head of grilled cabbage, three corns on a cob, and perhaps a few slices of bread. Served with ice water, please: I don’t drink spirits.”

“Uh, that’ll take awhile except for the water sir, but sure,” Jacobs said.

“I could go for thom peacheth,” Lisped the final member of the lodge, Mr. Peaches, an orange furred orangutan who acted as the teams mascot, who would rub his belly in anticipation even as the cook stared, perplexed and confused.

“Did that Ape just talk?” He said, baffled, causing the team to let out a peel of laughter.

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

One Day Later

“Well I say, this has been quite the adventure,” Marianne giggled, taking a drink of whiskey. The group was currently seated in the very important persons section of the lounge, which consisted of a section of it cordoned off by velvet ropes in its own cozy little corner, consisting of a few leather chairs and soft fabricked chaise lounges surrounding a mahogany table, all atop a thick persian rug, a fire in the corner roaring.

Oswald gave a hum of agreement, lost in thought, even as Abby speared a bite of cabbage on her fork and downed it. “Yes, I must agree: none of our fraudsters have had access to dry ice of all chemicals,” The inventor said thoughtfully.

“Personally, I don’t see what was so nice about it,” Scotty grumbled good naturedly, sipping a glass of iced fruit juice before setting the beverage down. “Now, th’ surroundings, those are CERTAINLY a welcome sight,”

“You just like it because Professor Arkham is letting us eat for free,” Marianne teased, causing Scotty to chuckle and stroke his prominent, bewiskered chin.

“Not wrong, aye, but can you blame me? I’m but a humble and poor novelist, with nary a penny t’ my name,” Scotty retorted, placing one hand to his breast while giving a wave of the other. “Why, with such a precarious life, it should be nae wonder I have such an affinity for such a generous place!”

Mr. Peaches meanwhile gave a hoot of agreement, enjoying the peaches and ice cream that had been prepared for him. “The food ith a good reathon to like this plath,” The orangutan said happily. “Pluth, I like seeing the tricks.”

“Mmm, I admit, the Professors acts so far have been delightful,” Marianne agreed. “Just absolutely spine-tingling.” She gave a long, breathy sigh. “It’s almost a shame we’ll have to head back to Crystal Cove so soon.”

“...I’ve been thinking about that, my good fellows,” Oswald said from his armchair, finally speaking up. “What if we didn’t leave?”

The party gave a collective raise of the eyebrows, except Mr. Peaches, who continued to enjoy his meal. “Clarify,” Gluck said flatly, causing Oswald to breath in.

“During the past few weeks, not only have we solved the Redfeather mystery, we’ve discovered dozens of additional ones,” The man explained, craning his fingers together. “Gotham is a HOTBED of the strange and unexplainable: I love Crystal Cove, but I think we can all agree, we’ve about hit the limits of the place and how much we can grow in it. “

A silence passed through them, a silent acknowledgement of his correct-ness: ever since they had finally located the crystal sarcophagus in the cove caves and discovered it empty, the amount of strange, truly unexplainable occurrences in the town had begun to dry up, one by one, as if whatever mysterious force that had once caused them had suddenly dissipated.

“Aye, well, I could do for a change of pace, I reckon’,” Scotty eventually said, picking up his lemonade again. “Well then- To our new base of operations!”

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

BATCOMPUTER IS POWERING UP…

…

…

PLEASE ENTER LOGIN

USERNAME: JAYBIRD

PASSWORD: E-BENNET1813

…

…

WELCOME, JASON. PLEASE ENTER QUERY

SEARCHING FOR “RING OF SOLOMON”

…

Jason. I know you’re reading this: Tim made sure to program the batcomputer to display this message the next time you entered your credentials. We need to talk: you can’t keep sneaking into the batcave in the middle of the day while avoiding me. I understand it’s not a conversation you want to have, but if we’re going to make our current arrangement work, we need to at least be able to pass on information in person. I have that surveillance data of Black Mask you needed: if you want it, you know where to find me - Bruce

The Ring of Solomon are a gotham based anti-german society dedicated to ensuring it never becomes a world power, responsible for funding and sponsoring numerous german terror organizations, assassinating german figures and officials, and promoting anti-german propaganda, both in the United States and, with the rise of the internet, globally. Their assistance was one of the key factors leading to the assassination of Kaiser Wilhelm and starting World War 1, an event they took as validation of their organizations beliefs.

Their origin lie in Arkham Lounge: it wasn’t long after he had predicted the Great Gotham River Fire. Convinced of his prophetic ability (NOTE: have asked Giovanni Zatara, magic community apparently unsure if Professor Arkham real magician or lucky fraud. Current theory: reincarnation of Nostradamus), when he made a prediction that a great and terrible evil would rise in the land of old empires, Chalmer Chill, a rich coal baron (no relation to anyone in my past. I checked.) possessed of deep anti-germanic prejudices, took it as another prophecy. Assembling a collection of allies from multiple level of society, the Ring dedicated itself to averting what it believed was an apocalyptic threat.

During both World Wars, they funded large spy rings, working closely with contacts in various governments opposed to Imperial and Nazi germany in order to support their military efforts and sabotage the germans. In the leadup and during World War Two, however, they would rapidly increase their operations against the nazi party: while I wouldn’t call them anti-fascist in any sense of the word, they would wind up funding numerous anti-fascist and even communist groups during this period. Beyond this, they collaborated numerous times with the Justice Society of America, aiding them in killing the figure known as Captain Nazi, a “superhero” who had been fielded by the third reich only a year before: already tired and injured from a battle with Hawkman and Jay Garrick, the Captain found themselves captured by Parisian resistance fighters armed with weaponry commissioned from the german expatriat and technological genius Abigail Gluck by the Ring. According to the Rings own files, the resistance fighters apparently shot Captain Nazi in the head and dumped his corpse in the sewers.

They are also directly responsible for the assassination of the german leader Adolf Hitler and the ascension of Hermann Goering to the title of Fuhrer during the July 20 plot in the year 1940. Less than a year later, given full command of nazi germany’s war machine, the final solution began.

As much as mass media might portray otherwise, the final solution, while the brain-child of Goering and his personal project as Fuhrer, cannot be blamed solely on the man, and by extension unlike how many view them I don’t blame the perpetrators of the assassination (or the Ring which backed them) for accidentally helping Goering achieve power. The Nazi Party was, even under Hitler, a supremely hateful organization, and like all fascist projects at the time, already some degree of innately genocidal. It is highly unlikely it would have ended any different had Hitler lived, as much as bad alternate history likes to postulate otherwise.

If the first world war was validation, the holocaust was the ultimate confirmation of the Rings views. Their activities have risen and fallen over the decades since, though they’ve never fully ceased operations, though their assassination of all members of Operation Paperclip and thus helping the Soviets win the space race ensured that for several decades they were forced to go underground by the US Government. Currently, there exist two different branches of the Ring: the more moderate Gotham branch, which is content to utilize soft-power to undermine both east and west germany economically, and the Metropolis Branch, which nearly started World War 3 when they detonated a low-yield nuclear device under the Berlin Wall during 1981 in a (unfortunately) successful bid to prevent re-unification, as well as in more recent years attempting to manipulate NATO into invading East Germany and attempting to assassinate politicians in the EU amenable to West Germany joining.

I do not envy Clark for having to deal with these people. They’re annoying enough when they’re just corrupt and racist millionaires, let alone murderous terrorists.

Regardless, the largest threat possessed by either branch is their near unlimited amount of funding and connection to other organizations (SEE: COURT OF OWLS, LEGION OF DOOM, SERPENT SOCIETY, ROYAL FLUSH GANG, FALCONE CRIME FAMILY). They lack any metahumans of note, largely utilizing mercenaries, hired henchmen, and paid assassins and soldiers of fortune to do their dirty work, as well as backing other organizations when it suits their interest. Note that while circumstances can lead to situations where co-operating with them is warranted (namely, when dealing with German or Neonazi supercriminals), they are still to be considered generally antagonistic and exceptionally dangerous, especially towards german metahumans and heroes.

On a more personal note, I find the Ring one of my more generally distasteful enemies. While they aren’t as openly murderous as some, they have spent decades helping to forment the current situation in the Germanies: the starvation, the economic collapse, the radiation crisis, the gang wars. Worse, they act like this makes them heroes: self-righteousness is an ugly trait, especially when the only basis is that they were enemies with the right people once. Ras, for all his hypocrisy and attempts to justify his actions as being for the greater good, at least recognizes the monstrosity and cruelty of what he does.

!!!!!GOTHAM!!!!!

With a crashing sound, the window shattered as a brick went through it. “Are you insane?!” Josiah yell-whispered at Crane. “We’re trying to avoid getting caught here!” He growled. “Do you want to bring the pigs down on us?”

It was ten minutes until midnight, and the sky was black. The pair were standing in the yard of the Roth house, Josiah holding a ladder, Zelda carrying a kerosene lantern, each dressed in clothes they had selected both for ease of movement and going unseen. “We would have had to break it anyways, wouldn’t we?” Crane said sweetly, causing Josiah to give a frustrated growl.

“No, we wouldn’t have: I have a pry bar in my pack,” Josiah said through gritted teeth, taking some small satisfaction in the widening of the womans eyes as she realized she had made a mistake.

“Well, it’s not like anyone is likely to care,” Crane said haughtily, a note of uncertainty hidden in her tone. “After all, this….” She looked at the run down building, mouth curling in distaste. “-house, doesn’t look like anyone has lived in it for awhile.”

“Be that as it may, the police arriving and throwing us in jail for even a night will be both enough of a smear on my reputation and a complication to my current venture that it would void the utility of this action. If you want that favor, be quiet and don’t get caught!” Josiah lectured, walking to the side of the house, while Crane narrowed her eyes. After a moment, apparently deciding to not contest Josiah, she followed, the pair of them trudging up to just under the window.

“Alright, Miss C,” Josiah said, making sure to not use any real names, something he had extensively discussed with the woman beforehand. “You’ll climb first, and I’ll hold the ladder steady for you. Since you decided to enlargen our means of ingress, you shouldn’t have to use the pry-bar to open the window. Once you reach the top, you’ll hold it steady for me long enough for me to follow.”

“Mmm, very well, Professor,” Zelda said, giving a small and tiny grin. “I’ve never been party to a burglary, I must admit: this is a very new experience for me. The ladder, if you will.”

Giving a grunt, Josiah set the wooden frame up, placing it against the wall and holding it steady, gesturing. Stepping up to it, Zelda began to ascend the side of the building, rung by rung. Eventually reaching the window, she reached past the shattered glass with her gloved hands, fiddling with some mechanism, presumably the lock, before retracting her arm. Grasping the window, she shoved it to the side, opening it, allowing her to crawl inside.

“Alright, I have the ladder,” Crane called, and Josiah began to crawl up it, slowly and steadily, praying the ground stayed stable beneath him, which wasn’t a given considering the unique topographical geology of the location.

Eventually, he reached the halfway point: only a little more and he’d be there. It was at that moment the ladder began to shake. Giving a yelp, Josiah grabbed the ladder close. “Oh, Professor!” Zelda tittered from above, the womans mouth slow growing intoa wide, unsettling grin. “So JUMPY! A fear of falling, perhaps?”

“Damn you woman, stop that!” Josiah grunted, beginning his ascent, only for a few rungs later to let out a another yelp as the ladder shook. “Stop!” Josiah cried as he began to speed his ascent.

“Stop what, Professor?” Zelda said innocently. “I’m just holding the ladder.”

“You keep shaking it!” He cried, growing more annoyed at the womans childish- and TERRIFYING- prank, ascending quicker and quicker, the ladder intermittently shaking and being jostled.

“Why, my good sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Crane teased. “I think the height has you jittery- a subconscious fear? I never would have figured the great Professor Arkham as an acrophobe.”

“DAMNIT CRANE, YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME F-” Josiah yelled, only to be interrupted by something below him giving way. Simultaneously both of their eyes widened as Crane quickly attempted to brace herself and grip onto the ladder.

“Nonononononono-” She cried as it slipped from her hands, slick from the rain. Realizing he was too high up to land safely, Josiah reacted instinctively, falling back on his training as a burglar, the work he had briefly done as an acrobat for Hermanns, and sheer blind feral panic to rapidly scramble up the remaining rungs quicker than he would have thought possible, launching off the last rung in order to jump the widening gap between it and the window, his body crashing through, his fall caught by Zelda, who would go sprawling to the ground alongside the magician.

The pair of them both sat in their position, Josiah with his face in the surprisingly dry, if oddly pungent, carpet, while Zelda looked to the ceiling. Giving a groan, the pair of them began to stand up, picking their busted up and battered bodies from the floor. “PLEASE, Miss C, never. Do that. Again.” Josiah said, massaging a part of his shoulder that felt particularly dented up, frankly too happy he was alive to be as angry as he should. Which still meant he was furious, mind, but just furious enough to bottle it up and eventually barf it out later onto his employees or into his museum.

“...Duly noted,” Zelda said, picking up the fallen lantern and putting out the small ember that had spread from it. “I’m not going to apologize,” She said flatly, voice almost defiant, as if daring Josiah to argue.

“You nearly killed me,” Josiah said flatly, causing her to look away.

“A…regrettable accident. Regardless, I am at least willing to concede that it is in the best interest of our continued partnership to behave,” She conceded, and Josiah gave a sigh of annoyance. Fine. He could live with that: Zelda was too valuable to alienate for (accidentally) nearly killing him once.

“Now, what exactly are we looking for, here?” Zelda asked, and Josiah took a breath, before pulling out his pack on the floor and unrolling, retrieving a box of matches and a small hand-lantern, lighting it before starting to put everything back.

“About fifteen years ago, someone lived here: a girl. Abigail Roth,” He explained, standing up. “I need to know who she is, where she is now, and what happened here. Now, your little stunt most likely was heard by SOMEONE, so we don’t have much time. Perhaps less than twenty minutes. You can take the ground floor. I’ll take this one and the attic. Anything you find, Miss C, you report to me.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’d make a joke about you sending a poor defenseless woman on her own, but I’ve given you enough stress this evening, I think. Fine. How are we going to make our exit?”

“In fifteen minutes, I’ll come down and help pry off a few of the boards on the lower windows,” Josiah explained. “It will still be a bit of drop, but it will likely be a less injurious than falling from a second story window on top of a hill.”

“Mmm, fine then.” She gave a nod to Josiah before turning, walking along the corridor until she found stairs, carefully descending down each one, the wood creaking beneath her feet. Staring after her for a moment, Josiah turned, walking in the darkened hall. On the second story, he found three rooms: each of them he opened. The first appeared to be the master bedroom: a few shelves here and there. In the center, a tick mattress stood. The next room was windowless: possessing a small child sized cot, shelf, and mirror, its surface black, a yawning void that gave Josiah the chills: on the shelf was a copy of Don Quixote, written in the original spanish according to a cursory look, well worn and well loved. The last room had another few cots and, in the ceiling, a drawstring. Approaching it, Josiah pulled the cord, causing a panel to slide down, allowing a set of rungs to descend: an attic entrance then. Climbing them one by one, he soon reached the zenith, entering the shadowy chamber at the top of the Roth house.

What he saw left him with chills. In front of him, sitting in a gently rocking chair, was the cold, blackened corpse of a human being, their dessicated mummy staring right at Josiah with hollow eye-sockets, mouth stuck half open. Clothed in a jacket, trousers, and boots, the corpse had probably belonged to a man once: the sailors cap on their head at least indicated such.

His heart thudding a mile a minute, Josiah gave a dry swallow as he approached the corpse, the musty scent of death filling his nose as he reached into their pockets, looking for anything, eventually locating a small pocket book and pulling it out, dismayed to find it…waterlogged?

Furrowing his eyebrows, Josiah wondered how the book was so soggy when the corpse was dry, before deciding that he’d rather not think about that. Opening it, he was upset to find that almost each and every entry had seen its writing run to the point of illegibility, except for one…

Dear ____, I think I might d__ here. The water below has not receded: I am still trapped in this hall, waiting for ____. Ironically, despite being above so much water, I am growing thirsty. The ____ is not drin__, it is ____ and brackish, and contains ____ which I suspect are ____: the cat drank some, and soon began to act strange, before leaping into the ___. I now see fish in the water, occasionally: they occasionally try to snap at me with their stingers.

I don’t _____ to do. I have prayed to _____, and yet they are not answered. I fear they may have abandoned me: all I hear now is my wife, calling from beneath the water. I fear I only have a few days before I die of thirst: I can only pray my spirit doesn’t join her.

May god have mercy on my soul. Abby, forgive me.

!!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

Christmas Day, 1900

Well. He had been forced to get a new waiter, but so far the Christmas Party seemed like a smashing hit, Josiah thought, surveying the lounge, noting the pleased throngs stretching across the breadth of the Lounge, the many folk of Gotham unable to afford a more private ceremony: the poverty stricken, the indigents, those lacking family or warm loving hearths to return to. Another way to help buy good-will: he had bought off a few papers to mention a public party, where he would wine and dine the poor of Gotham in order to earn their love, and thus bolster his status and reputation.

And from what he could tell? It was working. The party was packed: in order to allow his employees to enjoy themselves, he had rented a phonograph for music, had Jacobs cook the meal aforetime and place it out on special tables, and currently, Mr. Peaches was on bartending duty, the ape having been bribed with a bottle of peach brandy and assorted other treats to pour and mix drinks. In the center of the lounge, some of the patrons were dancing, taking advantage of the phonograph and the spirit-bolstered courage to perform simple waltzes. In the corner, Gluck and Crane were both talking animatedly, sharing notes, while Scotty and Mark were both wrapped arm in arm singing carols to the delight of the latters aunt.

Even Amadeus had shown up, the man animatedly conversing with Burlington, the latter looking a little sleepy as he relaxed in his arm-chair, cheeks ruddy from drink. All while Josiah watched from his place above, a small alcove on the second floor of the Lounge overlooking the rest of the bar he reserved for his personal use.

Next to him, he heard a flutter of what sounded like feathers, and Josiah did his best to not react, taking a sip of beer. “Miss Roth,” He said, non-chalantly, noting from the corner of his eye the suspicious look the witch was giving him.

“Arkham. How did you find out where I lived?” She asked, sharply, causing Josiah to give a slow chuckle, the man doing his best to come across as totally relaxed. The trick to selling a good con was, as the name implied, confidence.

“You’d be surprised at the amount of resources I have available, Miss Roth,” He drawled out in a non-answer, giving a nod, before ringing a bell. “I must admit, I’m surprised you accepted my invitation,” He noted. In truth, he didn’t actually know where she lived, though at this point it would be trivial to check. However, he didn’t need to: he had merely made a few discrete payments to the Lodge to investigate, then hired a courier. But she didn’t need to know that.

Abigail narrowed her eyes, seated across from Josiah, both of their chairs positioned to see most of the lounge and each other, but not at the same time, not directly: unless you were good at looking from the corner of ones eyes, the pair had to pick between watching one or the other. “What do you want, Arkham?” She said, voice full of suspicion.

“Why, to extend my gratitude, of course!” Josiah claimed, carefully monitoring both the party and his new guest, satisfiedly noting that she was currently focused entirely on him. “After all, without your magic, none of this…” He said, giving a wave, gesturing to the lounge below. “Would be possible.”

This successfully put Roth off-guard, the woman blinking in surprise, mouth and eyes curling into an expression of confusion. “You’re…extending your gratitude?” She said, off-kilter, before her face set back into a hardened expression. “You’re trying to manipulate me,” She hissed. “It won’t work.”

“Of course I’m trying to manipulate you,” Josiah dismissed, crossing his legs and setting his drink down even as his waiter appeared, carrying a plate holding a glass, a bottle of wine, and holding a box. “Please, try not to state the obvious my dear, else this conversation will never get anywhere.” He gave a clap, and the new waiter sat the platter down before picking the bottle up, uncorking it, and pouring the amber liquid into the elegant, tall necked looking drink glass. A moment later, the waiter handed it to Roth, the witch taking it and staring at the item with naked suspicion.

“That will be all Kelvin.”

“Kevin,”

“Whatever,” Josiah dismissed. “You’re dismissed. Miss Roth and I have much to discuss,” He said, giving a wave, causing the new waiter to quickly make an exit. Unperching his arms, he picked up his drink and took a swig, before setting the cup down, raising an eyebrow at Roth glaring at her cup. As if he would lower himself to poison the alcohol he served like some sort of hack poissoinneur. “At any rate, just because this is an attempt to manipulate you doesn’t mean the sentiment isn’t real: I am, from the bottom of my heart, VERY grateful for the blessing you’ve provided my establishment.” He gave a lazy shrug, watching with satisfaction as Roth finally took a sip of the drink.

“Hmm,” Roth said, face still puzzled and suspicious as she tried to figure out what Josiah’s angle was. “What are you playing at, Fraud?” She interrogated, causing Josiah to give a mock gasp of hurt and clutch at his heart in shock.

“Fraud? You wound me Miss Roth, to cast such vicious aspersions,” He cried, before giving a chuckle and reclining in his seat. “Humor aside, since my soul is indentured, I thought it perhaps prudent to attempt to build a rapport with my future employer in order to ensure my afterlife…reasonably pleasant.”

“And so you invite me to your party to wine, dine and woo me me with gifts,” Roth said, realization kicking in. “I must admit, you are a BRAZEN one, Josiah,” She said, voice taking on a dangerous note. “But very well, I’ll humor you then, though I highly doubt you’ll be able to make up for deceiving me into wasting a contract meant to secure the services of a master sorcerer on a two bit carny.”

Josiah was silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes, smile not dropping. “Oh my dear, you have woefully underestimated me if you think I’m ‘just’ a carny. I assure you, I am so very much more. You may not consider me as valuable as some eldritch wizard, but I can provide you things they would be unable to.”

“Paper, metal, and baubles,” Roth snidely responded.

“Wealth, prestige, luxury,” Josiah countered. “Legitimacy you won’t be able to get squatting in a damp, dingy swamp or trawling the docks for people to make deals with. Connections to a higher statused clientel and personages.” He gave a hum. “Ah, but first, before we talk business, perhaps you should open your gift. I did go to considerable expense to locate it.” He lied.

Roth stared at him, before picking up the box that sat on the table. “Fine,” She said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s take a look at whatever shiny bauble or overpriced, tacky artefact you think sufficient to impress m-”

She went silent. The lid of the box dropped from her hand, clattering to the ground as it slid from her slackening grip, jaw falling in response to what she saw. With a shaky hand, she grasped the contents and lifted them out.

It was a book. A copy of Don Quixote, well worn and well loved, cover carefully restored and contents rebound. “Where…where did you…” Roth whispered, for the first time genuinely shocked, sending a thrill of satisfaction up Josiah’s spine.

“You’re welcome, of course: I gather from its condition and the notes you doodled in the margins that you were rather fond of this book,” Josiah said conversationally. “I must say, you were quite the advanced reader as a child,” He said, taking a stab in the dark, noting with pleasure that his guess hit home judging by the widening of the witches eyes.

“Do you think you’re funny?” Roth growled, snapping out of her stupor, eyes flickering a brief red. “How did you find this? How did you learn that?” She growled.

“I have my ways,” Josiah said calmly. “As I said, I am much more than a ‘two bit carny’,” Josiah continued, a note of contempt dripping from his voice as he finished the rest of his drink, before setting the glass down for the final time. “As for the how, unfortunately, a magician never reveals his secrets.”

“You will tell me or so help me I will rip you limb from limb,” The witch snarled, dropping any pretence of civility, and Josiah felt the phantom specter memory of his near strangulation tingle across his neck briefly, his heart going a mile a minute even as he did his level best to maintain composure.

“Mmm, no, I think not. That wouldn’t end very well for you at all,” Josiah clicked, staring her down. “Of course, I wouldn’t be able to stop you,” He admitted. “You’d kill me quite quick. But, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t be in a position to enjoy my labour very long, for reasons I’m more than happy to explain if you give me…five minutes, perhaps?” He asked, and now Abigail looked uncertain, his capabilities and actions having already set her off guard and making her unsure of his capacity.

“And how do you intend to punish me?” She drawled interrogatively. “Some sort of curse? Do you intend to haunt me from beyond the grave? Perhaps you’ve bound some daemon to bedevil your killer, or-”

“If I die in the next ten years, a hundred thousand dollar hit will be put out on you, your home will be leaked to every criminal gang in gotham, and your photo, name, and history will be published in one of Gotham’s top papers,” Josiah informed her, cutting the witch off. “If you survive- which even with your powers isn’t a given, since even with the power of hell itself you don’t have eyes in the back of your head and still need to sleep eventually- it won’t be in Gotham, not if you ever want a peaceful nights rest.”

The witch looked at him, stunned. “You- INSOLENT-” She seethed, furious, causing Josiah to smirk even as he noted the brief hints of fear. He had successfully bluffed her. Good, that meant, whether it was true or not, she thought they at least had SOMEWHAT more equitable leverage over each other.

“Yes, very,” Josiah agreed, and on the back of his hand, he could feel the scar tissue throb a bit in stress. “But again, stating the obvious. You see, while I’m VERY grateful, I must admit, the idea of being someones slave for much of my afterlife is…” He trailed off. “Less than appealing. But you see, your little contract has a loophole, one predicated on you being alive in some capacity to serve.”

Roth finally grew silent. “Threats, then: you seek to escape your contract then,” She growled, setting the glass down before gripping the rests of her chair tightly. A cord of anger still in her voice, but tempered by uncertainty and the mistaken belief she was gazing at someone dangerous enough for consideration.

“Oh no,” Josiah said, grin returning. “This is just the stick: on the whole, I’m not opposed to our deal standing. After all, you did do me QUITE the service, Miss Roth. Should our relationship be amicable and one of respect, then neither of us have nothing to fear: all you have to do is sit back and reap the fat of a good investment, and when my time comes I’ll willingly accept my place as your employee. But should our relationship be acrimonious, or you decide to collect on your price before I’m ready to pay and…” He leaned forward, looking the witch right in the eye. “It behooves a man to have insurance. So, which do you want? The carrot of wealth and luxury, or the stick of paranoia and a price on your head?”

She narrowed her eyes, expression slipping into a veil of what would be inscrutability to others, but Josiah was able to recognize it as a combination of anger, fear, acceptance, and, buried underneath it all, a small piece of her was impressed. “You play a VERY dangerous game, Professor. It seems I underestimated you considerably. Very well: I’ll play along. You have a year to convince me the contract was worth my time.”

Josiah grinned, before standing up. “Excellent. Now that our business has sufficiently concluded, would you care to join me below? I do believe we’re about to start the final dance of the evening and I don’t appear to have a partner,” He said, voice low as his eyebrow rose stretching his hand out, causing Roth to once more give a blink of surprise before her cheeks colored as she stared at the offered appendage.

“Well, it does seem that tonight is going to be FULL of new experiences: not only was I invited to a christmas party and threatened, now I’m being invited to waltz with the man who did so,” Abigail tittered amusedly, before grasping Josiah’s hand and accepting his help up, deciding to take him up on his offer.

And like that, despite staring down an opponent who held all the cards, Josiah had successfully convinced them to fold, using just a book, an invitation, cold reading, and consecutive bluffs.

Good job, you successfully led Josiah into tricking Abigail, and in the process secured the Witches respect and patronage. Combined with the rest of your choices, and it’s a good turn: prestige is up from a good act, people are a little less suspicious of Josiah thanks to his generosity, and now he has the Lodge taking residence and treating the place as their headquarters, bringing in money and respect. As a result, the Lounges current financial score is BLACK. Josiah isn’t quite rolling in it, but he’s got some serious dough now.

First, let’s deal with the Skein of Fate. As alluded to, our friends the Ring of Solomon are going to get up to some stuff using the Lounge as a base. Now you get to pick what they do first, what path they wind up taking. Keep in mind none of these are gonna be wholly bad, but by the nature of the organization you created being a nutty anti-german cult founded by crazy industrialists, they aren’t gonna be very nice either. Action code is [RING].

[ ] The Gotham Arsenal: War with Germany was inevitable, and when it happened, America would be prepared! The Ring of Solomon had many captains of industry would pool their wealth to sponsor the creation of great and terrible arms factories and weapons workshops in Gotham.

-[ ] Give me a broad category of item the Arsenal specializes in. It has to be useful for war and combat, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a weapon. Vehicles are valid as well, as are things like Ammunition. You are allowed to get a little speculative with it, but keep it to something that would be somewhat plausible for a cabal of rich industrialists to cook up given some years.

[ ] Sponsored Propaganda: Germany couldn’t be trusted. The Ring would attempt to help drive anti-german sentiment in one of the myriad regions of the world by bribing the various publishers to print slander and propaganda demonizing the German Empire, creating more enemies for the nation, making it harder for the great darkness to stick its claws into the region.

-[ ] Give me a region. It can be as broad as a continent or as specific as a city: the more targeted, the more effective the Rings efforts will be at driving anti-german sentiments.

[ ] Economic Warfare: Germany needed to be bled, and the Ring would provide the knife required to do so. They would hire a fleet of renegades, pirates, thieves, and rogues, outfitting them with weapons, boats, and money in order to plague german shipping across the sea, raid their colonies, harass their military, and set fire to their economy whenever the opportunity presented itself.

-[ ] Give me a brief strategy to accompany this: the idea is that you’re basically creating Privately Funded Privateering, but that can take a number of forms. Are you focusing more on the ocean, or are you focusing more on land-bound attacks and groups? Do you want to take aim at their colonial ambitions or do you want to start eating at their core territories?

And now we arrive to the Hotspot. With new arrivals comes new opportunities: the Benevolent Lodge of Mystery weren’t just veteran mystery solvers. Oswald P. Burlington is a wealthy heir to a vast rail empire, while Abigail Gluck is a skilled engineer. With the Lodge and Gotham acting as their new place of residence, eventually they would bring a bit of fortune to the bar. Action code is [HOT].

[ ] Oswald would make a generous contribution to the Lounge, allowing Josiah to afford a considerably more expensive addition or improvement than he could normally afford.

-[ ] What exactly do you spend his contribution on, and through what gestures do you repay his donation?

[ ] Gluck would agree to do some work as an engineer, helping to create some piece of technology to help benefit the lounge in some way, one that wouldn’t otherwise be widely available for decades, if not longer.

-[ ] What item do you commission from Gluck? Remember she’s a brilliant engineer and inventor, but keep in mind that if your commission is large enough or complex enough, it will likely require additional investment.

[ ] Scotty and Mark would collaborate, writing a book together that would help draw in another demographic to the Bar, one that might not have otherwise been interested in the place.

-[ ] What genre of book are they writing, and what’s the subject matter? Different choices will yield different results: for instance, a horror novel about some strange, gothic terror will draw in a different group than xenofiction in the style of white fang or watership down, while a mystery travelog for black tourists wanting to visit the haunts of Gotham is its own kettle of fish, etc etc.

And once more, before we get into your act and AP, lets see your acts, assets, and employees.

ASSETS:

Josiah Arkham: The owner circa Aug. 1900 - . A stage magician trained in burglary among other arts. Has sold his soul to Abigail Roth, who he encountered in a dingy bar while drunk, in exchange for his Bar having an assured stream of clientele, though not neccesarily enough to make ends meet. Obsessed to an unhealthy degree with various indigenous artefacts.

Violet Hall: A singer Josiah had located while looking for entertainers: they had agreed to work using their voice, their pay a few dollars every day they worked.

Stout Beers: Stout Breweries were one of the lesser sources of alcohol in this town in terms of quality, but they were cheap, meaning that they served as the source of much of the alcohol served.

Crane Brews: A collection of beverages that incorporated various narcotics and minor neurotoxins to deliver an alternate intoxication to beer, one that bypassed most peoples alcohol tolerance. Thanks to recent investments, cheaper than before.

Dry Ice: Good for special effects, good for keeping things cold.

The Kitchen: A kitchen ran by Mark Jacobs with cheap foods of various types such as eggs, bacon, toast. It sported a cold room that held a variety of other common Gotham foodstuffs, such as oysters. You also had a waiter now to help bring people their food.

St. Majeste: An old riversteamer where the Arkham Lounge was located, it was a barely floating wreck that required significant repairs. So far, the only functional parts was the engine, the wheel, and the actual lounge itself, as well as a kitchen and small pantry.

And now, your list of Acts.

Taming of the Fouls: An act that involves a large number of doves and pigeons. Currently, most were kept in a special coup when not acting. They had been trained to be surprisingly well coordinated, and more important, unlikely to crap in a customers food.

Stories of Smoke and Mirrors: A sadly slightly undercooked act consisting of tales spun by Professor Arkham in the form of puppetshows with himself as the narrator and villain: the smoke and props gave it an interesting atmosphere, but it was still subpar for various technical reasons.

Crystal Ball Act: It didn’t have an official name, but it was an act where Josiah would use a crystal ball, ventriloquism, and cold reading as well as a healthy dose of spying to create “predictions” for his audience.

And now, we have the ACT vote: I’m not gonna repeat the spiel, you remember how it works and hopefully the advice I’ve given you. I’ll probably repeat it eventually, but for now, you’re on your own. [ACT].

[ ] Insert Act Here.

Alright, and now we reach the AP. Josiah’s priorities largely haven’t changed except for his debt to Zelda, but now his options have. The Performance and Management AP are still required, and so is the Roth action, but now for the latter instead of investigating, you can instead focus on actions to help cultivate the Lounge and yourself as potential assets, focus on schmoozing her if you think the solution to a deal with the devil is to wine and dine Satan, or you can keep investigating Roth if you want a better stick to go with your carrot. Further, you also need to pay Zelda back somehow for her favor, and unfortunately a money bribe isn’t gonna cut it: you gotta get creative and figure out something more valuable to her than just investing in her research. Note that you CAN spend your Hotspot on this if you can think of something that would sufficiently please Miss Crane, and that you don’t need to repay the favor right away. Just keep in mind that the longer you wait, and the poorer your attempt at repaying her is, the more likely she is to call on that favor herself.

Codes are [SHOW], [BAR], [WITCH], and [PERSONAL].

[ ] Scout New Talent: Josiah probably wasn't going to find any good magic acts since Hermanns Theater existed, but Gotham had plenty of other forms of entertainment if you knew where to look. For instance, traveling carnivals, other lounges, etc.

-[ ] What kind of entertainment are you looking for? If you can think of a specific place to scout you can use it instead, but considering its turn 1 I don't imagine you'll have many ideas.

[ ] Hire New Staff: Sure, you had a bartender, but you need more than just that to run a place. Janitors, delivery people, waiters, additional bartenders who can pick up more shifts. Just keep in mind that the more people work for the Lounge, the higher its costs go.

-[ ] What kind of staff are you looking for?

[ ] Diversify Spirits: Stout produced low quality, but cheap beers. They were in your budget, but unless you diversified, the drinks would likely never be a major draw.

-[ ] What kind of alcohol are you looking for? Just a few words is fine: 'expensive wines', 'inexpensive whiskeys', 'swamp bought moonshine'.

[ ] Renovate the St. Majeste: Only part of the St. Majest was open to the public: the ship was still seaworthy inasmuch as any vessel of its class might be, but the prior owners had apparently been less than gentle with the vessels insides, meaning most of it required repair.

-[ ] Like prior options, what are you repairing? I'm not gonna list every possible space on the ship, especially since they'll probably be used for something different: instead, just specify a potential location that could conceivably exist on the ship and what you want to use it for. A gambling hall, another drink lounge, theaters, cabins people can pay to sleep in, etc.

[ ] Call On a Someone: Josiah knew a lot of people. He could lean on them for favors, or else simply visit them to deepen friendship.

-[ ] Select a character and your reason for visiting them.

[ ] Investing: If you have a particular business partner, friend, venture, or industry you want to put some of the Lounges funds into, this is the option you want.

-[ ] Who or what are you investing in, and do you have any stipulations?

[ ] Go on a Date: Ah, Romance. Select this option if you're interested in a character in a less than platonic manner. Note that they need to be someone Josiah would be interested in pursuing and of compatible orientation and gender.

-[ ] Select a character and provide a brief idea for a date.

[ ] Rumor-Hunting: Josiah has a topic he's interested in. He was going to collect rumors in the hopes of finding a lead, whether from the bars of gotham, his various old criminal contacts, calling on his mentor, or other means.

-[ ] Write in topic and means of hunting it

[ ] Gotham University Research: Gotham University was the center of academia in the city. If there was anyone who might know about various subjects such as the history of gotham, various scientific and literary facts, and other useful subjects that Josiah might find useful, it was here.

-[ ] Write in subject you're looking to research.

[ ] Write In.