Masks of Nyarlathotep 14

Thursday, 12th February

Whilst in London, I manage to find some news reels at the Library about the Carlyle Expedition, whilst we sit down and figure out what needs to be done next.

It seems that Jack Brady is being looked for by the Cult members, and we think he is (or at least, was) in Shanghai. At some point we probably need to try and find him ourselves, though Shanghai is a long way away.

We probably also need to go to Kenya to find out what really happened to the Expedition, and what they were really looking into. We could go via Cairo, where there is probably related information to find. There was a letter to Roger Carlye from M Warren Besant who mentioned the Street of Jackals, and to Gavigan from Omar Al-Shakti.

There is also the issue of Australia, where strange things have been found in the Western parts of that continent.

We think we should go to Limehouse docks since some things were delivered there which might be interesting.

I get some business cards made up for the Penhew Foundation, in case we need to masquerade as them later.

That afternoon, we plan to head to the Limehouse Docks. After some discussion, we realise that Lloyds of London may be a better destination to check their register of shipping. We enquire about the Ivory Wind.

It is a Chinese registered vessel, its home port is Shanghai where it is due to be headed. It’s route from London will go via Marseilles, Malta, Portside, Aden, Bombay, Singapore then Shanghai. It would take about six weeks for larger vessels, but for the Ivory Wind it will probably be 3 months. It is about 7,000t.

It is captained by Lars Torvak, a Norwegian, who used to work for better shipping lines. The rest of the crew are from South East Asia. It is currently in Regents Canal Dock in Limehouse. It is due to be shipping out within the next 10 days.

We get a taxi down to the docks, because there is no way that I am walking around in this part of London. We pay the taxi to wait for us, as we look over the ships here. The Ivory Wind is there, and doesn’t look like the most well kept of ships. We spot the captain, identified by his shaggy beard (which is how I imagined him) and captain’s hat. He heads into a hostelry across the road, apparently in search of alchohol.

We follow him inside, and Clayton sits down next to him at the bar and offers to buy him a drink. The Captain doesn’t seem to question this, and quickly becomes Clayton’s new best friend.

He left his previous employment due to too much drinking and the passengers complaining.

He now captains the Ivory Wind, which makes money shipping antiquities around. They are heading to Ho Fang in Shanghai next. He never looks in the crates. He can’t remember how many he’s currently going to be shipping – it would be easy to just show us. So he does. Despite the drinking, he is able to make back to the ship.

The ship smells. There are about 15 sturdy wooden crates hidden at the back of the rest of the crates, and the label says it is going to the Cairo Museum, but taking off the label reveals another label that names Kaoyang Street. They are being shipped by Chaudry.

Whilst Clayton takes Captain Torvak up to the bridge, the rest of us stay behind to take a look in the crates. Opening them up, they are full of strange machinery. They are carefully and individually packed in little boxes inside the bigger crate. I fiddle with some of them to break them.

The second crate has a pair of boots, which look like they were made by skinning somebody’s feet. Embroidered on them is written “Like the Wind”.

There are eight crates of machine parts with weird valves and and strange wiring. There is a carving of a bat winged creature rampant, with three large eyes making up its face. I realise that this is of Australian origin. It is a representation of the Father of all Bats.

The is a large statue of an Egyptian Pharaoh, 7ft tall and in ivory. The face of the Pharaoh is filled with worms which seem to be moving… it is the Black Pharaoh. It is a 3rd dynasty, Old Kingdom statue, between 2,650 BC and 2575 BC. For some reason, I seem to understand. The worms remind me of the maggots in the Pyramid in Peru.

I am left shaken.

There is a small rosewood statuette of a highwayman with a face like a man-goat. The costume and materials suggests 17th century New England. It is a fetish of the Horned Man.

There is a 30cm long Crysknife, with an extravagant wavy blade engraved with strange symbols. It is possibly Indonesian or Tai, but something about the grip is off. The symbols don’t correspond to any language that I recognise.

The next crate has a large conch shell. Lefty recognises it as a Horse Conch. None of us blow through it.

The last crate contains a large rectangular object wrapped in brown paper and wrapped in string. It is a picture of a picturesque English cottage scene. There is a full moon, with bestial figures dancing around grave stones. The painting is signed MS with a date of 1924. It looks like this was a present for Ho Fang.

We collect Clayton, who by now back in the pub and somewhat the worse for ware.

We find a police box and call for Inspector Barrington to let him know to search the ship. I head back to the taxi (and Lefty comes with me, apparently not trusting me to be safe) to make sure it’s still waiting for us, as a thick London fog begins to descend on the docks. He’s still there and happy to wait, and we head back to the pub to wait for the police.

There is a sound behind us. We turn around, and see the taxi driver struggling with something covering his face, and pulling him up off his feet. Lefty shouts for Monty, and rushes back towards the driver. He pulls out a revolver, and fires above the driver’s head. The shot seems to attract the attention of all the locals.

I swing my umbrella above the head of the taxi driver, and it hooks on something. I pull – there is a weird slurping noise, and the driver slumps to the ground, coughing.

“And don’t come back!” I yell at the sky.

At which point something rubbery tries to force its way into my mouth. I try to force it away, and hit it with my umbrella. It’s slimy, and the tip is forced into my mouth. I manage to turn away, pulling it out, coughing for air and spitting slime onto the ground in a most unladylike fashion. I don’t know what this thing in the sky is, but I’m really not that sort of girl.

I hear a shout from Monty, of “get to the light!” The taxi door is open, so I jump into it, and try to find out to turn on the headlights. I find the horn, but not the lights. Lefty seems to break free from whatever was trying to get into his mouth, and as I continue to try and find the right switch, I feel something cold and slimy crawling up my leg and between my thighs.

As I feel something pushing through my underwear, I find the right switch and the headlamps come on. The fog lights up around us, almost sparkling, and the pressure between my thighs suddenly vanishes.

Lefty and the taxi driver are coughing, but now in the light. There is a police whistle somewhere in the distance.

The local police turn up, and want to know whether there was a firearm discharge. I tell them that we are waiting for Inspector Barrington, and tell them to go find him. This seems to diffuse the situation somewhat, but they want to know if I discharged a firearm. I (truthfully) say no, but explain that I was being strangled. I didn’t see the culprit I tell them, but they did seem to be very definitely not local.

Some senior police officers arrive. Inspector Barrington is elsewhere at the moment, but they have spoken to the Inspector so know to take us seriously. Monty tells them about the crates, and the crew decide not to start a fight with the police.

We get back to the hotel, and I have a bath.

Friday, 13th February

We meet at breakfast, and I order something sufficiently hearty.

After this, we find a travel agent to book the Orient Express. It’s about three days by Orient Express to Instanbul, which isn’t too horrible. Then a few more days by train and road to Cairo. They also suggest Dragoman – a guide who can speak the language. We arrange that and a hotel – they suggest Shepheard’s Hotel.

Next up is to buy some suitable clothing for the Middle East, which will take a few days to get tailored.

Later in the day, we head to Empire Spices in Soho. It seems to see good quality goods. One of the other customers asks the guy behind the counter, Adgo, about the proprietor Zahra Shafik, who it turns out has had to move to the country for a family emergency. She is probably having to deal with an emergency caused by our interference.

Late that night, we head back to the shop when it is hopefully empty. We didn’t plan enough to think to check if the worker actually went home after closing up, or whether they will be sleeping above the shop.

Heading around the back, Monty breaks in through the back door. Heading inside, Lefty opens the first door we come across. There is the sound of movement from behind the door, but he just opens the door since there’s not much else we can do.

He dodges back as Adgo swings at him with a big spiked club. He doesn’t dodge enough, and there is a loud thunk as the spike digs in, whilst shouting “In His Name”. How nice of the man to identity himself as a “bad guy” as opposed to someone simply defending his shop.

Clayton runs outside, to get in behind through the window, and I just try to keep our attacker in the light with my torch. Lefty hits him back with his torch, not doing much. I try to blind Adgo by shining my torch in his eyes, but he’s too far back into the room.

He’s really wailing on Lefty, and managing to avoid most hits from my colleagues, until Mongo wacks him with a crowbar. Adgo hits Lefty, and I finally figure out how to point my torch, blinding Adgo as Clayton comes in from behind and clonks him over the back of the head, knocking him down.

I bandage Lefty’s wounds, but leave Adgo alone. He’s a cultist, and I really don’t care about putting effort into saving his life. Meanwhile the others find some paperwork on the desk in the office down the corridor, and stairs going down to a basement.

I get asked to look through the paperwork again. Which is probably safer than going into the basement. Whilst they brandish their crowbars downstairs, I wield my silver paper knife. There is the sound of doors being crow barred open from the stairs, as I go through letters and files.

I am called upstairs, to identify statues of Bast, Osiris, Horus and Anubis. This seems to be Zahra’s personal rooms, which are very blue. There is a large gilded mirror hanging on the wall, which looks like teeth or something decorated around the edge.

There is also a Quran, left open to a certain page. Not being able to read Arabic (I’ve picked up a book in preparation for our trip, but that doesn’t help yet), I make a note of which Surah it is open to.

There is a black silk robe, beautifully embroidered, designed for a woman. It looks like it would fit me, so I take it, along with an inverted ankh necklace and a skull cap. Just in case we ever need to pretend to be cultists.

We take a weird scroll, the mirror and some clubs.

Saturday 14th February

We dispose of some of the ‘bad stuff’ we took last night.

We pick up our business cards, ready to leave London on Monday. I also pick up books on Heiroglyphics and Coptic.