We are playing Yuigaron's Sworn by Ghostlight tri-fold game available on his itch site. Check out Session Zero for more on the character, Detective Tiberius R. Remus, the city of Mónaþstone, and the Ebon Wood Effigy case.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Tiberius R. Remus, Occult Detective
Personal Case Notes
2 January, 1935 GLR
1245
1695 Ashcroft Lane, Flat 4M, Central Mónaþstone
I stood in stunned silence, attempting to process the scene in front of me. Try as I might to rein in my brain, I could not and stood there staring at the symbol of dirt and plant fibres as if I had seen a ghost. In hindsight, I had already seen one ghost today. It should not surprise me to encounter another so soon.
When at last my mind settled and I could think clearly again, I collected the plant material and dirt into an evidence bag. I was absolutely certain a scan would prove this to be Aconitum napellus, I would have Miss Belright run a more thorough test when I reached the Bureau. My hands trembling from the surprise, I drew my sidearm and made my way cautiously into my apartment.
The door, I was surprised to find, remained locked—just as I had left it earlier this morning. Trying to remain as silent as possible, I fitted the key into the lock and pushed the door open slowly.
Action
Inside, there was nothing amiss. At least nothing that I could see on the surface. I cleared each room, checking in closets and under the bed, and found no trace. Each of the six windows in my flat remained locked tight, two of them had long ago been painted shut and would have taken considerable force and tools to pry open.
Satisfied that my apartment was empty of threats, I set about looking for anything that might indicate someone had been inside. After a thorough search turned up nothing of note, I was on the verge of deciding no one had, in fact, entered my apartment. That is, until I went to retrieve my reports from last night's crime scene from my desk.
I distinctly recall leaving the file containing my official report laying on the right corner of the desk. The folder, however, was nowhere to be found. I checked in each of the drawers and even went back to my bedroom to see if I had somehow placed it in my nightstand with my personal journal. The journal was there, but not the file.
Deciding that I'd need to have someone transcribe my journal, I took it with me when I left for the Bureau. I knew I could trust Miss Belright to transcribe the notes faithfully—and more importantly, I could trust her to be discreet with my personal reflections—and determined to ask her to do so at the first opportunity. In the meantime, I felt an urgency to make Chief Dashell aware of the symbol and my missing report, so I set off to the Bureau station.
Action Result
Resource Update
Tiberius R. Remus, Occult Detective
Personal Case Notes
2 January, 1935 GLR
1325
Mónaþstone Bureau of Investigation, Downtown Mónaþstone
The Bureau building was a nondescript brownstone off of Charcoal Boulevard. There was no sign indicating the presence of an official government office, and the brownstones on either side were rented townhomes complete with civilians going about their mundane lives. No one asked questions if they met one of the investigators or officers on the street. No one acknowledged the existence of the building at all. It would all be rather strange if it weren't for the knowledge that most folk dwelling in Mónaþstone actively shut out the existence of the supernatural, and the effects of Ghostlight, as much as they could.
Inside, the foyer was bland, the faded floral wallpaper hadn't been updated in ages—I had my suspicions that it was the original wallpaper—and possessed the familiar scent of mildew. Inside the lobby, which was really nothing more than a wide room with a single metal desk in the center. Behind the desk, much to my chagrin, was Sergeant Redford Cawley.
The Sergeant was as happy to see me walk through the door as I was to see him, which is to say, not at all. It was a well-known fact that we were not on good terms. Even the Chief herself had acknowledged it on occasion. Few knew the true reason for our mutual animosity, but those that did refused to take sides. Cawley's temper was well known, and he was the second highest ranked officer in the Downtown Bureau. No one wanted to make an enemy of him. My position as Senior Detective gave me a level of insulation from Cawley's wrath, but only just.
"Detective," Cawley grunted, looking over his newspaper.
"Sargeant," I nodded to him. "Is Chief Dashell in?"
"No. Said she'd be out of the office today. Her wife had surgery this morning."
"Ah, then I guess I should report to you."
"What do you want, Remus."
"My report from last night's investigation was stolen from my flat sometime between oh-nine hundred and twelve-forty-five."
"Where were you?" Cawley folded the newspaper up and sat it aside. He took up his notepad and pen and began taking notes.
"Following up on leads."
"Any sign of forced entry?"
"No. Door was locked, as were the windows."
"You suspect something supernatural?"
"Yes. I found plant fibres and dirt outside my apartment. The same that I found at the Smoke Street bank and the victim's flat."
"Any indication of the type of plant?"
"The scanner says Aconitum napellus."
"Never heard of it," Cawley said, waving his hand dismissively. "Anything else?"
"The plant and dirt were arranged in a shape, a triangle within a circle."
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"No," I answered, my patience with Cawley's imperious tone running thin. "No, I suppose it wouldn't mean anything to you. I found the same symbol inside the victim's flat, along with a Ghost Echo of Miss Adelaide."
"A Ghost Echo? Haven't heard tell of one of those in a while."
"Nor have I. I think I'm close to breaking this case."
"I'll post a unit outside your flat. Just in case the perp comes back."
"Thank you Sargeant. Please inform the Chief that I will be in to speak with her at her earliest convenience."
"Sure, Detective. Anything else."
"No."
"Good." Cawley ripped out his notes and rose. "I'll put this on the Chief's desk."
He turned, and disappeared into the back room where the Chief's office was located. I didn't wait for him to return. Instead, I opened the door on the right side of the room and descended the wooden stairs two flights. On the second sub-level—a level not on any official architectural plans—was the Ghostlight Forensics Laboratory, where Selma Belright was hard at work on one of the many on-going investigations. She looked up from her work when I opened the door and stepped inside the stark white room.
"Ah, Detective Remus. How can I help you?"
I filled Miss Belright in on the particulars from the morning's leads, as well as my missing report. She listened with rapt attention, as though still a student at University. Her eyes, however, shone with eager intelligence and I could see her thoughts whirring about inside her head as she processed my account. She would, indeed, make an excellent detective one day.
"So what do you need from me, Detective?"
"What do you know of Aconitum napellus?"
Ask the Oracle
"Aconitum napellus?" Miss Belright made a humming noise as she stared at some spot past my shoulder. After a moment, she spoke again. "Once known as Monkshood or Wolfsbane. A highly toxic plant once native to this region, before the Ghostlight phenomenon altered the climate. If I recall, no species of Aconitum survived the climate change. At least the toxicology texts I read in my first year at University said as much."
"You're absolutely certain that this species is extinct?"
"I would have to check to make sure, but yes, I'm relatively certain. I'd say ninety-five percent."
"Then how," I asked, scratching the graying stubble on my chin, "have I found traces of it at the bank, the victim's flat, *and* outside my apartment door?"
"I couldn't say, detective."
"What else do you know about the plant? Anything that might tie it to our murders?"
Ask the Oracle
"No sir."
"Could you check Miss Montegomery's body for traces?"
"Yes sir. I'll send a runner to the morgue with a message requesting Dr. Sweeney do a full toxicology report."
"Thank you, Miss Belright. You are an asset to this Bureau, do not let anyone tell you otherwise."
The young woman smiled, and her cheeks turned slightly rosy. "Thank you, sir."
"Simply stating facts, Miss Belright. Now, I must request one more thing from you. Something that, I know, is well below your talents and pay grade."
"What is it, detective?" The smile on Miss Belright's face faded, replaced by a look that was approaching anger.
"I would like you to transcribe my personal case notes into something presentable to the Chief. I need to pay a visit to a Mr. Tubblebottom, a botanist I presume, to see what he can tell me about Aconitum napellus and do not have the time to do so. You're the only person in this station I would trust to see my personal reflections. And the only one I trust to ascertain what is necessary to report, and what is private reflection or hypothesis."
Belright's eyes hardened as she processed my request. It was clearly a grunt task well below her considerable skills. But she really was the only one I trusted with my personal reflections and thoughts. She had proven herself to be insightful, intelligent and trustworthy—respectable and valuable traits that were dreadfully rare in today's society.
"You know what, detective, I think what you are saying is that you find me trustworthy. That is, indeed, high praise. I will do this for you, because I respect you and because I'm curious as to what your personal notes might say. But I require a boon from you as well."
"And what is that, Miss Belright?"
"I want to go with you to meet with Mr. Tubblebottom."
"I see no reason why you would want to. Surely you are as knowledgeable as a sidestreet botanist."
"Tubblebottom? A sidestreet botanist?" Miss Belright's laughter filled the laboratory. "Sir, Elijah Tubblebottom is a warlock."
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