Astanael

Tag: Orient-Express

  • Terror on the Orient-Express – The Torso of Sedefkar

    [WARNING : Contains spoilers of the Milano chapter of the “Terror on the Orient Express” Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign. Players are advised to skip this part]

    Teatro alla Scala, Milano, Italy, Januarry 10 1923

    Choura only dreamed of being there, on the stage of the Scala! Draped in a rich gown heavily decorated with numerous egyptian hieroglyphs, he was playing a high priest of Ptah. The costume was magnificent, only rivaled by those of the singers. It was a non-singing role but nonetheless a central one, keeping him close to the tenor playing Radamès. The Aida, Verdi masterpiece, was a bliss to listen onstage ! If only Cavolaro was there. He could swear that he heard her voice during the aria “ritorna vincitor” earlier. But enough ! All of his focus had to go in the role, he only knew the play from memory and didn’t actually had been directed. So far, it was a no fault, but the single mistake could cost a lot to him all all of the italian theater world!

    Cihat in comparison was only wearing a simple soldier attire, a fake spear and a loincloth. He was pulled backstage before he could get on stage, and only could look Choura from afar. On the other side of the stage, he could saw one of Facia’s men, probably searching the same thing that us. While properly dressed, the goon seemed out of place and bored out of his mind. From the corner of his eyes, Cihat saw something move, and went investigating. A strange black smoke were oozing in a corner of the backstage… cautiously approaching, he heard a deep yet soft voice emanating from the dark smoke.

    – Do you need help, my dear? I’m following you for a while, searching for the pieces of Sedefkar, and it seems you’ll need a hand to manage this Facia. He’s a brother of the Flesh, a dangerous man… Would you like me to get rid of him?  
    At the first rows of the room, Henry and Carl were searching for the participants of the Flavio Conti reception, screening the other spectators. Arturio Fascia was several rows behind them and they heard him sing during the aria with the voice of Cavolaro ! Henry was shocked, and looked again to the old woman next to Facia. The eyes, the proportions, the hair… It was beyond reasonable to deny the truth further: it was the lost Diva! After concerting with Carl, they stared to move and leave their seat. Henry has a plan, a hasty and risky one, but a plan.

    By the time they manage to reach the central row, they saw Facia standing up, and precipitately leave his seats, rudely hustling the other spectator. Did he saw them? Carl took a look to the stage and understand the reason behind the sudden move of Facia. No time left, they will have to intercept him backstage. Facia left because he saw what was on stage. Radames was about to get his armor, ready to battle the Ethiopian army. Choura was the one who had to get it to him but when the approached the mannequin revealed in the light he immediately knew they found the missing torso of Sedefkar !
    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Terror on the Orient-Express
    Teatro alla Scalla backstage

    9 jan. 1923 – Milan

    It was a bliss, Choura had always dreamed about visiting il Teatro alla Scala de Milano, and now he was backstage, looking for clues and the musical director ! He dared to hope… maybe… maybe he could land a role on tomorrow’s premiere of the Aida! If only they knew where the diva Cavollaro went. This was too strange for her to disappear upon her arrival, and she wasn’t even there for the repetition they said. He hoped for the best, but fear the worst.
    Cihat was more pragmatic. They searched for a while and couldn’t find the director Toscanni nor the scenic director. Only one clue left, the costume designer. Milano was not as he expected, like a dead city, rotting in her magnificent shell, dead inside. A lot of people were sick and many from affliction of the chest. There has to be the torso piece of Sedefkar simulacrum here, somewhere. His own arm ache. The pomades and care of Henry helped but he had to wear the sling. And do not like it.
    After asking for direction to the smoking pharaoh with the glasses and cigar, they went up. Suddenly, Choura stopped and pointed between the curtains. Without thinking, Cihat took a peek and saw it too : an Eye. Gigantic, colossal, looking right at them.

    He blinked and realized after a brief examination that it was a theater props, another of theses pieces of illusion hanging around and stored everywhere He shoved Choura who stood still, like hypnotized and fascinated by the vision. He shook harder until Choura manage to regain his senses.

    – “Are you alright ?”
    – “Oh,Yes. For a moment… ”

    He coughed

    – “For a moment I felt strange. I felt… Like I din’t know which is the stage and which is the scene…”

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Terror on the Orient-Express
    William Wellington

    January the 6th, 1923, Lausanne (Switzerland)

    The door bell rang downstairs. Edward get up of his chair and said :
    – Pleas excuse me for a moment, I was expecting someone that you might want to meet too. I’ll be right back.
    The moment Edgar left the small and cumbered kitchen, a large man came in, opened a shelve, took a bottle and sat at the table. There was a long awkward silence, only ruptured by the noise of James that fled to the stairs, causing no reaction from the giant whatsoever.
    Henry tried a “hello” and some other greetings, only getting back a long and uncomfortable blank stare. Choura joined in, but after a few pointless minutes of one-sided conversation there was still no response. The colossus took a notebook and painstakingly started to wrote some words, then proceeded to show them to Henry.

    “Today is good day. Hello. Nice to meat you.”

    Henry shivers. Not because of the strange words, or the creepy typo. But because he saw now clearly the broken face of the giant as he lean into the faint light. Steel plaques hastily screwed to the skull, complete facial paralysis, deformed skull… He began to saw a story, the horrible tale of a victim of the great war, scorched by hellfire, shrapnel-mutilated and hastily repaired by a tired field surgeon in some god forsaken mud-filled trenches.

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Terror on the Orient-Express
    A New player

    January the 6, 1923, Lausanne.
    06:45 am.

    Upon descending the Orient-Express, a cold fog grasped the four friends. pushing them to an open cafe just near the station. The bartender let them stack their heavy pile of luggage in a corner while waiting for the Grand Hotel carrier. They ordered a large breakfast, complete with chocolate dipped croissants, milked cafe, tea and a huge assortment of sweets and little Swiss chocolate squares. This warm and cozy pause is much welcome after such a journey, and the silence of morning in Lausanne was a bliss after the loud aver lasting ambient noise of the train.

    Aaah silence thought Henry… only troubled by the delicate tingling of faience, the song of a lonely bird and the strident screeches of car tires drifting upon snowed pavement.

    From across the place, a vehicle suddenly appears, coming from one the adjacent streets, probably leading down to the Lake. The car literally jumped in the air, and flew for what seemed an eternity before landing brusquely and starting drifting, closing in dangerously to the cafe, only stopping just a few meters before reaching the vitrine.

    Cihat was already up and ready to drag Choura away, when he felt the tight grip of the old russian on his arm. Choura was livid, and so was Carl. They were both looking intensely at the conductor of that just stepped outside of his vehicle.

    – Oscar ? He’s alive !? How could it be ?
    – No, that’s not him. Maybe… James ? His brother, the race pilot ? Oscar told me once about him, but how… ?

    The newcomer went straight for them, his fist tightly clenched. Behind him, the car was still smoking and clanking. On the passenger seat, what seemed like the real owner was livid and still hanging onto his seat as if his life depended on it. Something told Carl James Couteau has not bought the official story of the Lhassa meteor that cost the life of Oscar. This will be a hard and long talk. 

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Terror on the Orient-Express – The bloodied Fez

    5 Durward street, Whitechapel, London, 1893.

    – Well, what can you make of… that ?
    The
    doctor Saroch look upon his colleague. The doctor Hobbs was not someone
    easily shocked nor prone to sensationalism, and yet, he saw fear in his
    eyes. He bent over to the patient and began his examination. Skin
    dried, quasi mummified. Slow breathing, alive ? Eyes were moving under
    the lids. Atrophied muscles. All evidences pointed to signs of
    senescence, but teeth, bone structure and callosities said otherwise.
    This was somehow the body of a young man, yet pruned and dried like an
    very old person.

    He went to the head and tried to remove this dark fez that seems to be the only article of clothing of the poor sod. He gasped.
    – Oh my god ! It’s growing under his skin !

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook

  • Orient-Express – Heated discussion in Paris

    Paris, a café near the National Library, 1923, January the 15th,

    Choura
    was extremely nervous. This café was a gathering point for socialists
    wannabe and left-wing extremists. Not the kind of place you expect to
    visit when you are from Russian nobility. He took a glance at Carl,
    which was quietly drawing on the small and crowded table. Several people
    of the café were looking at him go, steadily outlining the various
    monument of Paris on his sketchbook with a precision that only
    architects could have had.
    The real center of attention
    was Cihat, which was engaged in an oratory duel with some agitated young
    men in a very heated discussion about the importance of a central
    figure of authority in an ideal government. The young turk was brilliant,
    methodically disconstructing his opponent argument one after the other.
    His passionated voice were captivating the audience which was listening
    closely an epic verbal joute. Henry unsuccessfully tried to stop them.
    They had very pressing matters at hand and a lot of research to do. This
    was no time to convert a gathering of socialists  into a pro-authoritarian aficionados of the old Ottoman empire !

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from an ongoing run of the “Terror on the Orient-Express” Campaign of Call of Cthulhu RPG