Lady Helen Quatermain here. Sporting a spiffing pink ensemble, the envy of all. How most satisfying. Still, fripperies such as these do not grow on trees. They require financial as well as whalebone support. Consequently, on hearing that a new Pentagram of Peril had been located, we made all haste to acquire a private citizen’s fair share before the iniquitous representatives of an avaricious government impounded their next electoral bribes.
Too late! As I assumed a covering position in a doorway, while ensuring that the embonpoint was advantageously displayed, a band of deplorably attired officers rushed into the clearing, fresh from their last engagement at a flea market. Their initial welcome, however, was a just one, as the first to touch an infernal flame was flattened while the second gulped audibly as an impeccably dressed, seven foot tall gentleman emerged wearing an insane grin.
This was our chance! My lady’s maid, Hong Kong Hannah, raced to embrace a flame only to return even more swiftly closely pursued by a large knife, a razor sharp razor and two staring eyes. All belonging to somebody named Jack. Several of our lads piled in to help her while the butler, Parker, led the rest in a charge into the sacred clearing.
Followed by a mad scramble and wild riot as we few, the slovenly dressed bluebottles and a large number of improbably shaped beings fought to see who would be lucky first. Honestly, it was such a scrum that one had to be awfully careful whom one shot. Indeed, I almost knocked my hat off in my excitement, which would have been an enormous shame since it cost seven shillings and six pence from Forbes of Regent Street. But, if the hat was well, all was not well on the field. Several of our fine chaps had been floored while Parker rocketed back past me before being raked by something whose face was a whiter shade of vomit. With Hannah and her guardians still dodging close encounters with missing limbs, it left precious few of us to locate those tasty goodies.
Step forward young Red! Who pulled a barrel of plenty from the fire! For a moment, it looked as if my next wardrobe was secure but a shot rang out and he fell. WPC Sniper Sue concealed in the entrance to a cottage! Mind you, I am scarcely surprised she was hiding in a doorway. I would too if I was dressed to disappoint. Still, she is reputedly quite fond of standing in doorways. Snigger!
Blast that interfering busybody Sherlock Holmes! He grabbed the loot and ran. I almost had the blighter but he took fright and scuttled behind a wall out-of-sight. So, either we shot Sherlock or grabbed our own goodies. Once again, luck seemed against us as young Yuan, fresh from the mystic fire, hared past me before being carpeted by Mr Puke. But then, my First Mate Bull Rogers drew a royal flush. Some ill-bred scoundrel of a copper attempted to relieve him of his just reward but I sorted him out good and proper. As Bull hurtled towards me with the constabulary and the bullets in pursuit, it came down to a straight competition between him and Sherlock. Who would exit via their entrance point first? Who, in more prosaic terms, would win the initiative roll the following turn?
Well, that would be telling, would it not? Besides, I am a shade preoccupied at the moment admiring this spectacular Parisian creation. So nice to have the necessary funds…
The scenario is a fast version of the standard Pentagram of Peril. The only difference is that it is the first player to exit with an object of inestimable value at their entrance point who wins. Incidentally, the infernal beings immediately pursue any character who breaks off. They will ignore all other figures and will disappear only when they kill or are killed.
May 28, 2012, 11:11:01 AM