Corrective Action

A summary of those murdered.

From the character background of Mother Rachel de Courtney.

[…] Rachel begged the angel to take her as such a sacrifice, but the angel explained that the signs and portents which Rachel had been seeing in the charts she had drawn up were clear - one sacrifice alone might not be enough. And there were none other who understood the nature of reality well enough to direct the sacrificial energy to where it might have the maximum beneficial effect. Her calling was a greater one. She must act in order to direct the energies herself. She alone knew how to make the appropriate connections.

Then Rachel wept once more as she understood the burden that the angel was laying upon her shoulders. Since the understanding she had gained into the universal machine was the result of a lifetime of obsessive study, it could not be explained to others. They would have to be made to see the truth of the need for their sacrifice. As [her mentor] Rev. Thomas had taught her, so would she teach them. Pain would be their instructor. And when they finally accepted their place within the universe, their role in saving creation through their sacrifice, she could dispatch them, and the balance would be restored. God would not take this cup from her, for to do so would mean the destruction of all creation. Though she may well even be damning herself by accepting this task, there could be no shirking from it. God's will be done.

She drew her chart to see how best to proceed, and found that the stars indicated that her fate was intertwined with that of the King himself. It is within the Court that the great evil and danger which threatens the fabric of existence itself was centered. No longer could she shun contact with others. In order to understand the danger she must walk among it. Therefore she would head to the Court of King Henry IX, and learn how God's will was to be enacted upon His children. Only in this way can she stop the terrible dreams she has each night of all of Creation screaming in torment as reality tears itself apart.

An extract from the turnsheet of Mother Rachel de Courtney.

By “corrective action”, I do, of course, mean “brutal ritualistic murder”, but that seems like such an indelicate way to express it really. I think it's going to have to be a Catholic victim, since [Rachel de Courtney] has had to sully herself by being in the same room as one of the dirty heretics, so they're on her mind at the moment anyway. In this way, they will be brought to God and their soul saved, as well as also putting the universe back on track. If there's a direction indicated for danger towards [King] Henry, then take that as a pointer for selecting a victim (for if his horoscope says the Spanish are trying to kill him, make it a Spaniard).

Here's how the thing goes. We'll start off simple as this is the first murder and gradually become more elaborate. The victim's death is going to be Christlike, in that it's a sacrifice for the good of all. It may take a while to kill them, so we need to make sure that we have a secluded place to work where we won't be disturbed. Obviously the victim can't die in the same manner as Christ, that would be blasphemy, so we'll settle for staking them out on the ground, since that's sort of reminiscent of crucifixion. Think of their limbs as lines on a star chart. They won't be staked out symmetrically but in a pattern that fixes 12 O'clock where their head is and points the limbs into other astrologically significant places, possibly again relating to the King's chart. It might not be immediately obvious why, but it'll probably be obvious that they were staked out in kind of a weird way, with their limbs at odd angles.

The problem with sacrifice is that the victim has to be willing. The nice thing about staking someone to the ground and torturing them, however, is that they're pretty much guaranteed to be willing to die once a couple of days of that has happened. Very important though, they can't be killed until they consent. However, this means that precautions must be taken, since there's a risk of escape in any prolonged torture. [Rachel will] be wearing a heavy hood at all times, so they can't see her face, and will never speak to them above a whisper. It's also important to note that she *never* stutters during a “corrective action”. The Lord grants her strength to prevail. (Well, either that, or she's completely freaking hatstand - place your bets now.)

So there we have it. Catholic victim staked out and brutally tortured to death over a couple of days. Fatal wound is bleeding out from a sliced jugular.

This goes off exactly as planned. You pick John Fletcher, a Catholic priest from Chiswick, who has a small but loyal congregation.

It takes him quite a long time to break, considering he's never really been anyone important in his life. Finally, after he has begged for death and been offered up, the Angel appears to you in a blaze of light, weeping with joy, and humbly thanks you for all you have done.

Heard in different words but similar tone in Catholic churches throughout the country.

Do you see how the foul Anglicans treat us? Have you heard of their latest blasphemy? John Fletcher, an unassuming Priest for the parish of Chiswick, has been BRUTALLY MURDERED! Staked out and tortured, and finally finished off by cutting out his throat! And what’s more, his limbs were splayed out at UNNATURAL angles, as if someone had been performing some disgusting ritual! How this country can claim that they are true followers of CHRIST is beyond us.

But what can we do about this disgusting and despicable act? FIGHT BACK! Bring this matter to the highest authorities! Find out who did this and bring them to JUSTICE! Make King Henry prove that he is not WEAK in the face of BLASPHEMY and HORROR!

A neat little note circulated around Court by the Lord Chamberlain.

It is with pleasure that I announce that the position of Court Astrologer is once again filled. His Majesty, King Henry IX, has appointed Mother Rachel de Courtney. It falls to her to advise him on astrological events and any effect they may have on matters of State.

Well, it wouldn't be a turnsheet without a grizzly and horrible murder, now, would it? Today's victim, Bob, needs to be mystically significant with respect to childbirth, or the lack thereof. Pregnant woman would be ideal, but there's the small problem that the baby itself can't consent. As you know, we don't send anyone to their maker until they've consented. So the next obvious candidate is a child. We need one old enough to be able to understand what's happening to them, but I think under the circumstances, a virgin'd be good, so not too old then. Bonus points if it looks like the child is in danger of not coming to God otherwise. That way we're doing the poor mite a favour, right? No specific flavour of heathen a requirement though.

Obviously this is all rather lighthearted in tone, to enable me and you to keep hold of our own respective sanities, or what passes for sanity round these parts, but for Rachel, this is a terrible terrible thing. Which of course is what convinces her that it is the right thing to do. I think you can assume that she's weeping profusely throughout the whole grizzly ritual. We'll use the victim to create a combined chart for the King and his wife to be, so again with the odd angles. Better obfuscate any chalk marks afterwards, since we really don't want an astrologer to come along and read the chart.

Demonic influences are obviously at large also, so best take steps to avoid that. I suppose that means the job will have to be done on consecrated ground. Hopefully a deserted church, or at a pinch a crypt where we aren't going to be disturbed.

Same precautions as last time.

The candidate you pick is a serving-boy called John, in Viscount Edward de Vries' country manor in Hertfordshire. A rather wayward boy, his duties have kept him from Church every Sunday for the last six weeks, and he seems to be enjoying the excuse not to listen to all those dull sermons rather than repenting and consulting with his priest.

You manage to sneak into the crypt of a small church on the edge of the village. The stones are very thick, and the screams very muffled; nobody on the outside has any suspicion of the hideous acts taking place within.

Young John is remarkably easy to crack compared to his pious predecessor, and within half a day you have him completely at your mercy.

The chart you create for the royal couple, when distilled down to its most useful points, gives you the following information:

• They're better-suited to living as king and queen than as man and wife. She's no Queen Elizabeth, but she has strength of character. If Harry were to die, the kingdom certainly wouldn't fall apart under her control.
• She is definitely pure and intends to remain so until the wedding.

In addition to a certain amount of the usual stuff, couple of destiny, time of great change, love conquering all, etc. etc.

An extract from the turnsheet response of Edward de Vries. Written by Ivan.

You are still trying to sort out the chaos on your estate in Hertfordshire when night falls and you reluctantly turn in for the night. Your sleep is disturbed by terrible nightmares in which you seem to commit terrible acts, though when you awake - your bedclothes scattered around the room - you can't recall any specific details.

The servants begin hammering on the door as you pick the place back up. You descend in your nightclothes to find that the kitchens have been smashed up and the door to outside is partially wrenched from its hinges. As you have the servants begin to clean up you organise a headcount in case the chimeric plants have attacked in the night. You soon find that a small boy, a scullery lad is missing.

While you're organising armed parties to search the grounds in case the flowers have taken him, the local rector rushed in. He can't speak, he seems filled with a sick horror as he drags you and a band of armed servants to the local church. In the crypt the young boy has been horrifically murdered in some kind of sick ceremony. You hold your stomach and realise that he's been tortured for a few hours before he was murdered. He has been staked to the ground and his limbs carefully arranged. The killing blow was the cutting of his jugular, the blood having pooled around him. You notice that chalk marks surround the body but it's impossible to decipher their purpose now since they've thoroughly scuffed out.

Actually kidnapping the Archbishop goes off without a hitch. His usual bodyguards, clerics and so forth have just stopped hanging out with him since he started frothing green foam and shouting in the Demonic Tongue every time they tried to bring him his tea. You take him to an abandoned warehouse somewhere rural in Kent, but outside Canterbury near Toy's Hill, that used to be a church until it was abandoned and converted into a grain storage silo, which was burned during riots in Elizabeth's time.

Then, however, things get a bit more complicated. You have a Blessed piece of rowan wood, but you couldn't (in time) find one from an ancient tree that's grown on holy ground. Therefore, when you attempt Exactio, it doesn't… quite… work.

The demon manifests. The Archbishop remains unconscious, but a miasma of black flame begins to grow about his head, screaming in the voices of many tortured souls, horns and teeth and eyes appearing apparently at random.

You attempt, in panic, to cast Vinculum. You are working purely on instinct with no idea of how the ritual actually works or what it's supposed to do. You chant some formulae and sprinkle various holy items apparently at random, there is a loud bang, a flash which knocks you out for about a minute, and when you wake up the flames are gone but the archbishop is still frothing. You think you may somehow have accidentally bound the demon back into the Archbishop, and elect to proceed with the murder with all possible haste in case it comes out again. (You also notice a weird echoing feeling in your head, but try not to pay too much attention…)

You perform the Corrective Action as planned. The horoscope you receive for his successor reveals:

• The first possibility, described as “a man of the Cloth who keeps his heart in a bag”, whom you interpret to be Augustus Wells-Lacy, has a past full of lies and women, and a present full of cats, demons, lies and women.
• The second possibility, described as “a shepherd of men who listens closely to the stones”, whom you interpret to be William Frewen, really does mean well. Poor fellow.
• The third possibility, described as “the frail and brightly shining one”, whom you interpret to be Bishop Mary of Leicester, is not entirely herself and shines too brightly to remain on this earth for long.
• The fourth possibility, described as “the cunning student who loves his books”, whom you interpret to be Archibald Greene, is very knowledgeable but possibly not very holy.

As the Archbishop dies, you seem to see a strange vision of the breath from his death-rattle passing out to the North, towards London. You blink and clear your eyes; it's probably just an illusion brought on by overtiredness…

You also notice odd voices clanging in your head over the next few days and weeks, and strange nightmares and visions which hover on the edge of waking. You're fairly certain you haven't actually lost any time, but your memory is getting a little fuzzy and perhaps you're sleeping a bit more than you usually do…

You think you're getting a cold. The Abbey seems colder than it used to, and you keep sneezing.

News slowly filters through to London. Most of the printing-houses are too horrified to print off cheap or satirical pamphlets concerning the events, and so word-of-mouth is the main method of transmission.

”…arms splayed about his head, almost in a star shape…”

”…chalk marks on the ground about him, like he'd been used in some terrible ritual…”

”…face all blackened and bruised like he'd been choked to death, and this strange green froth…”

”…entrails ripped right out of him! And spread about him in some sort of pentagram! Good Christ save us, what sort of monsters are these?!…”

”…ripped right out of his evening meditations, they didn't find him for three days…”

”…some abandoned church away in Kent…”

Finally a public announcement is made. A week of mourning is declared for His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was found in an abandoned warehouse in Kent, apparently ritually murdered, his entrails torn out and used for some sort of diabolical ritual. Although no suspects are named, every rumour carries a variant of the same thing: About his neck was a sign, reading “Tested - And Found Wanting. C.B.”

For the Archbishop of Canterbury

It is with great sadness that live now, for the Most Reverend and Graceful Archbishop of Canterbury was foully murdered in a manner of some unholy ritual. For this sends no other message than war from those that would shake the very foundations of our most Blessed Church.

The Archbishop, though not the greatest man of doctrine, was a most brilliant speaker and a great leader of the Church, ever vigilant against the works of our enemies and ever mindful of peace within the Church. We must remember him in our prayers.

A discreet note is circulated around the clergy

…and good riddance. Now is at last a chance to consider a most competent and capable individual to the Archbishopric. For the previous Canterbury cared little for the Church, doctrine and our land - whoever murdered him has done the Church a great service for they have removed an ulcer within it.

A topic much-debated now. The King, it seems, does not wish to interfere with the running of the Church and so that appointment of the Archbishop will entirely up to the Episcopal Synod.

It is clear that the best candidates, and the only one capable of gathering enough support, for this position are:

His Grace William Frewen, the Archbishop of York who may be elevated to the post of Canterbury.
The Most Rev. Augustus Wells-Lacy, Bishop of Hereford
The Most Rev. Mary, Bishop of Leicester
The Rt. Rev. Archibald Greene, Archdeacon of Dorchester, a most sound and impressive man of good Theology and Voice.

All goes to plan, and the Viscount Surat's American boy is soon strewn across the grounds of the parish church at Scarborough. (You came across him while everyone was moving North for this Court.) English is not his first language, so it took slightly longer than usual to get him to comprehensibly renounce his terrible catamite ways and beg for death, but you got there in the end.

I hear that Boy the Viscount Surat keeps around is really a prince of same savage tribe from the Americas, due to inherit a vast kingdom some day soon! ….I also hear he's disappeared….

From the turnsheet response of Michael Gerard, Viscount of Surat. Written by Fed.

On numerous occasions in the past four months you sleep badly. Very badly. In your dreams, or rather nightmares, you are visited by disturbing images. Often these are flash-backs to India, your father, Sahib, but the details are twisted, changed, you are tormented by those close to you and eventually wake up in the middle of the night, unable to get to sleep. Even the presence of the 'Prince' does not always offer the comfort you wish for.

One day, the dream is particularly bad. You find yourself hurting the poor boy, who becomes Sahib, then your father, then a mysterious persona you can only guess is your Master orders you to cut off your own hand. As you swing the cutlass, you are confronted by a monstrosity - a demon ugly, yet seductive, who halts the blow and begins dragging you down, down into some fiery pit.

You awaken screaming and thrashing, and then clawing at your legs, drawing blood. Calming down, you discover that the 'Prince' isn't near you. You scramble off in a search, wandering your small estate in your night-robe and awakening the servants demand they find him. Your servants inform you that your companion has been missing for two days now… you fear the worst.

A plea and appeal by the Lord Michael Gerrard, the Viscount Surat. (Actually included in the following turn's news.

My dear friend, the Prince of faraway lands in the Americas has been kidnapped by evildoers and enemies.

Should anyone have information on his whereabouts or can suggest the perpetrators of this disgusting deed, I would offer a significant reward.

You pick Jack Staywhelp, one of the leading actors from the Lord Admiral's Men. He's publicly married but has several male lovers among the companies.

Things go largely as planned, and poor Jack really doesn't last that well at all. Since this attempt is focused rather towards influencing than divining events, you don't get a huge amount of information back, but are pretty certain that your efforts have influenced the marriage of King Henry in a… favourable way?

Jack Staywhelp, of the Lord Admiral's Men, a fine man who was due to appear as Viola next month, was found brutally murdered in some sort of hideous ritual. We have little idea who might possibly be responsible.

Staywhelp joined the Lord Admiral's Men after the clockwork ship disaster. He was a married man but this was widely known to be a matter of convenience, and he had several lovers among the young men of the theatre.

An extract from the turnsheet response of William Brandage. Written by Ivan.

You manage to collar a hedge-witch who is fond of your plays and with the relatively cheap promise of a few free good seats at your next few productions she agrees to do some scrying for you. Peering over her shoulder as she does so you can't make out the shadowy figure performing the horrible deed, cloaked in heavy clothes. You can however tell that the horrific rite that is being performed is neither theurgic nor sorcerous, it is instead a demented astrological reading with religious overtones performed in the blood of poor Jack Staywhelp! The witch herself fails to resolve the identity of the killer but confirms that the intent was astrological and moreover that the reading was connected to the Royal Wedding. She speculates that it was some kind of attempt to hasten the King's wedding.

It was very very tempting to correct Weis this turn. He's so clearly not only possessed by forces Satanic, but also clearly lovin' it. However, the fact that Rachel wants to do it definitely gives pause for thought. She's therefore going to wait to see if someone else is going to intervene to save the disgusting little Satanist. She's never been one for the easy option when it comes to corrective action. After all, that's not what corrective action is all about.

But demons are still the problem. We have a major outbreak and this is the most serious threat to the machine of reality at the moment. However, with corrective action there's a choice between sympathetic and antithetic resonance. Since it's about sacrifice, this time, Rachel has decided she needs to sacrifice someone of great virtue, namely Sister Agnes, the second most pious nun in the Abbey. (Sacrificing the most pious is sadly, not an option. Ever get the feeling that pride might represent a bit of a stumbling block for our Rachel?)

Sister Agnes is special. She matters to Rachel, and therefore she must know who is doing these things to her, so that Rachel can experience the full force of her revulsion and anger. If it doesn't hurt, it isn't love. And it is God's love that will protect the world from the horrors that have been unleashed upon it. We'll do this one within Dartley chapel. That's the point. As God sacrificed what he loved the most, Mother Rachel will also sacrifice something that she loves, and the closeness, the rawness of the act must be accentuated as much as possible. The more it hurts, the more effective it will be.

“How I envy you, Sister Agnes. You know that God is love, and soon, you shall be with him, and further, by your death his plan for all Creation will be furthered. What a privilege it is for you to die in this way. God gave up his only child that man might live. How I wish I could take your place, but the pattern would not be correct. I would curtail your suffering if I could, but you must be Christlike, and though you ask that He take this cup from you, you must accept that it cannot be. Your suffering may not end until you sincerely accept its necessity, and I see into your heart and your thoughts. I know when you are not sincere. Only when you are stripped of all lies and joyously accept your martyrdom in His name will it be possible to set you free. But I am patient child, and eventually I know you will come to understand.”

Use any odd bits of theurgy I might have (see below) to cause the rituatl to aid in the summoning of angels to assist in the fight against the demons.

You perform the awful ritual in the chapel at the dead of night. Sister Agnes, confused, weakened and utterly loyal to you, is dead within only a few hours, and you feel that your Theurgic knowledge and use of circles has aided greatly in the fight against Moloch.

Throughout the ritual, however, you are plagued by nightmares, hideous visions of flood and fire covering the land. These stay with you vividly for days, and you sometimes feel as if you can never quite properly wake up; the screams of tormented souls echo in your ears and dull your concentration. You fear you might have been a little less careful than usual during the corrective action - but surely, on your own grounds at the Abbey, that won't matter…?

Matthias Kimmons, formerly at La Valette College of Malta, is one of many astrologers attempting to provide an explanation for the unpredicted solar eclipse and the image of a wolf filling the sky where the sun should have been, in his pamphlet “Astromony and You”.

This morning's unprecedented solar eclipse is no cause for alarm. The natural conflux of magical caused by such a major battle must naturally have caused some turbulence in the heavens, and that this should form into the shape of a wolf is perhaps natural considering WOLVES! IN THE SKY! THE END IS NIGH! THEY WILL FALL UPON US AND TEAR US…

It should be noted that he is not the most successful at this, and the run of pamphlets is rather short – some say due to the Lord Chamberlain having had Words with him.

An extract from the turnsheet response of Mother de Courtney. Written by Helen.

You draw up a horoscope for yourself.

In the past many eyes watch, all disapproving. Small pebbles ofmistake and carelessness bounce against each other to create an avalanche. Misunderstanding, lies and deception are rife, and the light that illuminates the dark can also blind the unwary.

In the present, the balance of the universe is in peril. Probably because its maintainer is in danger of being destroyed.

In the future, peril will be averted by angelic influence, and the unrighteous, who speak of false-gods, shall be shown the error of their ways.

After receiving the go-ahead from Canterbury and at a suitably auspicious time according to the stars, York, Brandage and Mother Rachel all assemble in her Abbey in Dartley in order to deal with the angel inside the Abbess. Preparations begin.

York is unfortunately called away mere minutes into the drawing of the circle, on church business.

A circle of earth is formed around Mother Rachel, and white candles placed at the cardinal points. After some time wafting burning incense over the circle and chanting, Brandage announces that it is ready and she will begin the entreaty.

She has only passed around the circle once when an angelic figure, burning with a pure white light, appears behind her. In one hand it carries a golden measuring compass, and it speaks with a precise, measured voice with something of a metallic edge.

“The weight of your sin is enough to make the world stand still, my child. It has been measured, and writ in stone. You call all the waters of the seas, you call for them to rise up and fill the land, you and your unholy lusts!”

Seizing the moment when Brandage's head is turned, you knock her out with a swift blow to the neck, and transport her to your safe house in Bromptonshire for corrective action.

This goes ahead as planned, and you have her staked out, surrounded by astrological symbols and speak to her on the nature of her sins before beginning to torture her. She screams out for Semangalof, but does not come close to agreeing to the necessity of her sacrifice. Your angel informs you that Semangalof is a member of the Host, and indeed looking for Brandage, but that he won't be able to find her. The Lord's will must be done, after all, even if not all understand it.

After a while you leave her to consider your words.

When you return, in a few hours, she is gone.

So, a different corrective action then.

Henrietta Daresbury1) is nowhere to be found, so following your angel's suggestion you decide perhaps Lord Matthias Kimmons might be a good target for corrective action, as he's an astrologer, also his ravings about Ragnarok can hardly be the sign of a pure mind.

Some snooping around his estates later, you decide he definitely is an appropriate sacrifice as he has some of the paraphernalia of witchcraft (appropriate for a common female, but hardly a noble male – and suggesting a link with the land). He is duly snatched, spirited away away and the corrective action performed in the usual manner, attempting to increase the chance of an heir.

He isn't very hard to break at all, confessing to witchcraft and whimpering when you have barely cut him.

An extract from the turnsheet response of Rebecca Lanik. Commences just before her escape from de Courtney. Also written by Helen.

As your attention is on the angel, you feel a sudden pain and then black out.

When you awake you are staked out with your limbs at terribly uncomfortable angles, surrounded by chalk markings which seem to be of an astrological nature. A shrouded figure stands over you and speaks in a whisper.

“Mistress Brandage, you seek to understand the nature of what is occurring here, but sadly, there is not enough time for me to teach you the full subtlety of God's plan. Rest assured that He loves you, responsible for the death of His own begotten Son though you are, so much that He has chosen for this flesh to be the instrument of your Salvation. This is the only possible way for you to understand. When you understand, and not before, you will be able to die. It may take some time for you to be able to accept God's plan and the way in which He has shaped his exquisite machine, but in enough time you will come to forgive me. After all, you must have some understanding of what it is to do unspeakable things in the name of God, even if the acts performed by your kind were not so steeped in righteousness.”

Then the pain starts, as the person uses a knife to show you the error of your ways. You scream out for Semangalof, and protest against your sacrifice. All you have to do is stall long enough for him to arrive.

After a while you are left alone to consider the necessity of your sacrifice, and lie in the darkness, alone for what feels like hours.

You wake to see the Ambassador of Zilmatillia standing over you, with Semangalof, who quickly cuts you free and returns you to your home, though you remember very little of the journey there.

Your injuries are unpleasant but not maiming. With the help of the witch-physician most trusted by the Players, who treats you at no charge, you begin a full recovery.

An extract from the turnsheet of Meeash Han-Tiki Weatherwhite, Ambassador of Zilmatillia.

Er… not much time to do much about this. Best look into the mysterious murder in her locale, just in case she's responsible. If possible do a lodestone to lead to clues/evidence to the murderer. There's no point in doing a lodestone to the actual murderer, since then I'm left with no evidence.

In order to be able to snoop, get permission from the Lord Chamberlain to continue my luck investigations particularly with regard to the King. If discovered anywhere I shouldn't be, act as if I think I'm somewhere else, or say my luck vane was straining against my hand and I was trying to see where it led. And give them a huge, bright, mad, Zilmatillian smile.

Talk to people, find out all I can about the murder, etc, etc. And if listening to interesting conversations involves a certain amount of balancing on ledges or on trees outside windows, well, hey…

Written by Ann.

You cast lodestone outside the Abbey. Oddly, though, it doesn't point towards the Abbey, but some way away. Oh well. You follow it. On the way you meet….well, an angel, armed with a silver sword and following the same path as you with all due speed. Also some shouting at the poor people who happen to be standing nearby, about a mother or something like that.

He looks at you rather funnily, then at your lodestone, then you again. “Brandage. Find her. The stars hide her from me.”

Well, this doesn't exactly sound like something you can say no to, as he is rather threateningly holding that sword, and stars does sound like it might be related with the murders, if de Courtney is doing them. So you assure him that you will, and work on the basis that you can always work out something later.

You end up in Bromptonshire, with the lodestone leading you to an abandoned and dilapidated house. Which is for some reason securely locked. Or was before the lock (and door, and you could swear a bit of the wall) fell victim to the angel's sword. In what might once have been the dining room of the house you find Rebecca Brandage, surrounded by a strange astrological chart in chalk, her arms and legs staked out as part of it. She has a number of cuts, and seems rather shaken. Semangalof cuts her free, and nods in a sort of acknowledgement to you before taking her in his arms and disappearing.

An extract from the turnsheet response of Apollonia of Shipley. Written by Ann.

You've got quite used to Kimmons coming down to visit Fortune on a regular basis, so it's a bit suprising when he entirely fails to turn up or send word.

The executors of his estate send a rather dapper (if bemused) young man around to ask you if you, as a senior member of the Sisters of Hecate, mentioned by name in the Will, even, would care to have a look over the creatures and more esoteric artefacts of the late Lord Matthias to see which you might be able to take care of.

A little bit of explanation later, you learn that he was found staked out in an abandoned cottage, with every appearance of having been tortured to death before having his throat slit. Whilst most of his lands have been left to a nephew, quite a large number of exotic animals and books on the esoteric as well as some bone whistles have been left to the Sisters of Hecate as a whole, and to the King's zoo (animals) or Maltese Academy (everything else) if they cannot find a good home there. There is a great deal in the will trying to explain why so much is being left to the Sisters, which looks more like him trying to cover over his tracks as a hedgewitch than anything else. Also, a portion of land (farmlands and a small residence) have been left to Sii Maou, to be taken care of by Ambassador Meeash as his representative until he comes of age to understand ownership.

Word is passed to you of his death (by torture it seems – he was found staked out in an abandoned cottage, with knife marks and a slit throat – yes, this does sound a bit like how you found Brandage), and that the lands Sii Maou (and yourself) are currently using have been gifted to Sii Maou for as long as he should require them, and you are to handle these until he understands things like property.

Though one might be able to find a lone Sister of Hecate at a funeral, it would take a remarkable event to bring them out in force. One such event was the death of Viscount Matthias Kimmons, who caused something of a stir by being ritually murdered and leaving his estate to England's first dragon, Sii Maou, and the Sisters.

At the funeral Apollonia gave a heartfelt speech on Kimmon's remarkable empathy with animals and friendship with the Sisters, which was received rather better by the assembled witches than nobles. This sparked the first of many debates on the possible place for nobles and men in the Sisterhood, eventually resulting in the acceptance of men and public acceptance of some of the nobles who had been closely tied with the Sisters for years.

Much has been made of Queen Elizabeth II's part in these changes, some even suggesting that she was a practising witch. It is certainly true that her blessing made it possible for nobles to openly be members of the Sisterhood, however it could not remove the social stigma of witchcraft.