Actually, now that I'm brainstorming, something that could be really neat is a murder mystery in Britain set to the backdrop of World War I. All the young men are off fighting, so we would have lots of older gentlemen and female characters, who are dealing with the stress of the war while trying to figure out who brutally murdered Mr. Mayburry. Then they slowly discover that his murder is just part of an ancient rite performed by a shadowy group of cultists trying to summon, I don't know, Hastur to our world.

Mr. Cecil Mayburry, age 54. Owner of the Mayburry Estate. Died suddenly and violently. Motivation: none.

Inspector Lawrence Burr, age 37. Police officer. Aquainted with Mr. Mayburry through his wife. Motivation: solve Mr. Mayburry's murder.

Mrs. Olivia Burr, age 32. Local gossip and fashionista. Knows everyone. Motivation: assist in the investigation.

Miss Esther Mayburry, age 22. Mr. Mayburry's niece, visiting from the country. Motivation: originally, visit her uncle; now, discover her uncle's murderer.

Robert Browning, aged 58, Poet and author. Long time friend of the murdered Cecil Mayburry. Lives in the "old game keepers cottage" on the Mayburry estate. Motivation. Complete my novel and dedicate it to poor Cecil

5 - Another body
6 - Darkness rising
7 - "The hell you will!"
8 - The Press arrive
9 - Lengthening shadows
10 - A table of apologies
11 - A friend indeed
12 - The race
5 - Shadow at the End of the Hall
6 - Letters from Home
7 - Mayburry’s Journal
8 - Creak at the Foot of the Stairs
9 - Mismanaged
10 - Yellow Cloaks
11 - Ending the War
12 - A Long Way Off

Designer notes and interference:

Actually, the intent is that you don't need to populate your world right now, aside from who you want your character to be and a general overview of what the world you want to exist in...all those details can come later as you need them. In fact, it may be a bad idea to plot out NPC characters beforehand, as they could "trap" you into following paths, when really the chapter titles (which should be the real drivers of the direction of the story) should lead the paths. Plus it gets you into the game quicker.


Or maybe not. You are laying out a structure for a murder mystery, so maybe it makes sense to have some of that pre-determined.

Anyway, that's the intent of the rules, which I might not have expressed properly. However, don't let that interfere if you want to continue fleshing out the world and characters beforehand. It might work out better that way.

Playtests are an interesting spectator sport.

(Returning to radio silence and lurking from above...)

Nate, Is one of those characters your "main" character?

Shall we roll D100 with the highest roller going first?

R. Brownings Diary

When I woke this morning and looked out of the cottages window I saw the most delightful sight. Mist was flowing around the river, and up across the grass between there and the cottage. The clouds above were mere wisps and set against the red morning sky, I felt that I was just shy of heaven.

As I left for my morning constitutional the day turned somewhat sour. Esther, Celcil's neice, was already in the gardens. I do so hate interruptions, these morning walks so often are my most inspirational time.

To make matters worse, she was not content with a "good morning", she wanted to talk about Cecil.

It turns out, she had hardly sleapt a wink for fretting over his uncle. Apparently Cecil had been having one of the midnight parties, as I call them, where he spends the night alone banging a drum and chanting. Some utter nonsence he picked up in india, but he says it helps him relax.

Esther claims he was wailing or something and that it worried her and kept her awake even after it ended.

I sent the girl back up to the big house, telling her not to worry so.

Unfortunately it ruined my whole walk. After her interupption I heard hardly any of the morning chorus, the mist had cleared and my walk through the woods was moody rather than uplifting.
No writing for me today. Silly girls and their worries!

A Man, Dead

From Mrs. Burr's diary:

Lawrence was in the papers today! I couldn't believe it--he's never made the papers. Obviously, it's tragic that Cecil had to die to get Lawrence some recognition. Nevertheless, I'm ecstatic that London will finally hear about my husband, one of England's finest inspectors.

Here's one of the clips, from the South London Daily:

"Cecil Mayburry was found dead two nights ago by his niece, Esther Mayburry. His body was discovered in his library around noon. Mr. Mayburry had been murdered in brutal fashion--his throat and wrists slashed by a sharp object and his eyes gouged out. His hands and forearms bore bruises and cuts indicative of a struggle before he died.

Inspector Lawrence Burr, a close acquaintance of Mr. Mayburry, has been placed in charge of the investigation. If anyone has any information regarding the case, please contact Inspector Burr at the Second South Precinct. Rewards Offered."

Poor Esther. We should invite the poor dear over for tea sometime.

Stench of Death
Extract from R. Brownings Diary
My writing has fallen away since Cecil's death. After today's events I fear I may never write again! A policeman asked me up to the big house where I met a police Inspector by the name of Burr, sounds familiar.

The Inspector interviewed me in the room where Cecil was killed. He asked all kinds of questions. "What did I know about his death?" "Could I account for my location at the time of his death?" "Did I know how much Esther was to inherit?" "Would I be put out of my home?"

I got the distinct feeling that he thought I killed Cecil. The man's a fool.

As I think back over the interview, I can recall what it was that had me "on-edge" during the whole torrid affair. I could smell blood while in that room. I noticed that the rug had been removed and we stood around in there, on bare boards. I think the rug must have been soaked with blood based on the Inspector's description of Cecil's body. Where was the smell coming from?

I fear I did not convince the Inspector of my innocence.

Drums in the Night

excerpt from Inspector Burr's police report

Mayburry was clearly attacked by a strong assailant, of medium or slightly above-average height. We can therefore rule out the rather petite Esther as a direct culprit, although the question of inheritance still remains. Will contact Mayburry's lawyer tomorrow. If she stood to inherit a large sum and knew it, she may have hired someone to murder her uncle. At the moment, I will simply state that she appears genuinely distraught by the loss of her uncle, and perhaps too naive of this area to know how to contact those of low morals.

Browning is still a suspect. Living on the Mayburry estate, he had opportunity, and appears to be physically capable enough for a man of his age. However, he has no apparent motive at this time.

There are two day servants, Mrs. Wendy Lyvers, a maid, and Mr. Quinn Jones, a cook. Mrs. Lyvers, a simple woman, has a key to the estate, but was visiting her sister in the Downs the night of the murder. An unlikely suspect. Several of Mr. Jones' friends were drinking with him until after midnight. Since our working theory puts Mayburry's death at around 11:30 pm, Mr. Jones seems to be off the hook.

One oddity that needs further investigation: the drumming mentioned by Esther, Browning, and the two day servants. Esther kindly loaned me some of Mayburry's books, brought home from India. Strange books about rituals and ancient evil. I knew that Cecil was a bit of an odd duck, but his library surprises me. Anyway, the drumming was mentioned in one book as part of some sort of warding spell. The chanting and drums help ward off evil spirits. It appears that the ritual failed him.

"The hell you will!"

excerpt from a report presented to the police by Esther Mayburry

I haven't been able to sleep since Uncle Cecil's murder. It's not just that I don't feel safe here, although I have started sleeping with a pistol under my pillow. I can't stop thinking about the murderer. Who was it? Why would he kill my uncle?

It was because of my restlessness that I heard it. A creaking in the hallway. Someone was creeping towards Cecil's study.

I jumped out of bed, pistol in one hand, an electric torch in the other. I kept the torch off, and stepped silently into the hallway, my nightgown swirling around me. The presence had already slipped into the study. I crept towards the door, gripping the pistol tightly and trying to control my breathing.

The intruder had shut the door most of the way, probably in an attempt to muffle any sounds he made. I took a deep breath, switched on the torch, and shoved open the door, pointing the light and the pistol in front of me.

A man I had never seen before was pulling books off of the shelves. He was wearing a faded yellow-gold cloak with the hood pulled over his head, masking his face and features. He was clearly a fairly tall man, probably only a little shorter than Inspector Burr, with broad shoulders and big hands. The torch illuminated the lower half of his face. I could tell that he had a deeply cleft chin and a wide mouth. There was a scar or tattoo on his left cheek. He turned towards me, slowly.

"What are you doing in here?" I screeched.

A blade appeared in the man's hand, a long and slender weapon that looked sharp enough to cut light, itself. "Mind your own business, girlie," he whispered.

I fired a shot above the man's head. The boom echoed, and the recoil felt like it bruised my elbow. The man barely flinched.

"No need for that," he said softly, so softly that I could barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. "There is no reason for you to die tonight. I will leave as soon as I find the book--."

I interrupted him, screaming, "The hell you will!"

I fired again, this time straight at the intruder. He moved, faster than I had ever seen a man move, his yellow cloak swirling around him. I don't know if the bullet hit him or the window behind him, but the glass burst outward, and then he was out the window, dropping two stories to the ground below.

I ran to the window and looked down in time to see him dashing away as light-footed as a jackrabbit. Robert, having heard the first shot, burst into the room at that moment. I spent the rest of the evening with him, writing this report to present to Inspector Burr in the morning.

Hidden Book
Extract from R Brownings Diary

A shot in the night! I was up in an instant and at the window. I was just in time to see someone in a cloak running across the lawn and into the woods. I didn't recognise this stranger. Fearing this intruder had hurt someone, I dressed and rushed to the house.

I found that it was Esther was the one that had fired the shot, at the intruder. There is a strong woman inside the "silly girl!" Esther told me that the intruder had threatened her, and was looking for a book. She said the stranger had a scar-like tattoo and that put me in mind of what I called Cecil's "special" book.

The stranger had thrown books from the shelves, but I knew where Cecil kept the "special" book. Opening the drinks cabinet I took the book from behind the Sherry. He treasured that book and was always reading from it before his midnight "parties". Esther gasped when she saw it, for a moment I feared the man had returned, but she was looking at the cover. As I had suspected the mans' tattoo matched the embossed symbol on the cover of this book.

She somewhat rudely snatched the book from my hands and threw it open. I couldn't read the hand scrawled text within, but Esther said it was Latin. Latin was never my strength.

She started reading the book and I sent for tea as time moved on. At one point she turned a page and a small piece of folio fell clear of the book. It read "Kenneth, Chiselhurst 267". I suggested that it might be phone number. As I was looking over the fragment of paper, she turned the book sideways and read the following, written in Cecil's hand in books' margin.

"Madame Sheila's crystal seeing stone, payment in silver."

It looks like you're Mr Ephemera again!