J&L: Emissary of the Eldritch (6)

PGL: "Master Howard, good morning! Come, do take a seat at the table, there's a good chap. Mrs. Hudson has prepared quite the spread for us all. Jago has been breakfasting for a good half hour at this stage."

HGJ: "*muffled* Yes, Howie! You'd best grab a plate while there's still some bacon on the table. My compliments to the chef, Litefoot. Such delectable delights are downright divine!"

HP: "Thank you, sirs."

PGL: "Help yourself to whatever you like, don't be shy. We have a bit of everything on offer, after all. Whatever you fancy, sausage, bacon, mushroom, tomato, eggs poached and scrambled."

HGJ: "Your housekeeper has certainly outdone herself! There's enough food here to feed us thrice over!"

PGL: "Not at the rate you're wolfing down those puddings, Henry."

HGJ: "Any inkling of considerable consumption on my part is merely a humble homage to Mrs. Hudson. Still, it begs the question of what happens to the leftovers?"

PGL: "Any potential excess, she distributes among her family, and a number of local unfortunates."

HGJ: "Remarkable woman, in more ways than one. But enough idle chatter... Howie, tell me, how did you sleep last night?"

HP: "Fine, I guess."

PGL: "Any bad dreams, perhaps?"

HP: "Was I shouting again? Momma says I have a bad habit of shouting in my sleep. I'm sorry if I woke you."

HGJ: "Nonsense, Litefoot and I were still awake, weren't we George?"

PGL: "Oh, er, yes, of course. Wide awake. It's just you sounded somewhat unsettled, and we wondered if you could recall any details?"

HP: "Not really. I just remember being scared. I saw things in the shadows, always just out of sight, but they wanted to grab me. But then a man came, he looked a bit like Daddy, and he waved his hands, and all this green fire burst from his hands, and suddenly I felt safe."

PGL: "Well, it's quite the tale, Howard. Glad to hear it has a happy ending. Say, does the name Valgthoth mean anything to you?"

HP: "No. But it sounds funny."

HGJ: "OK then Howie. By the way, Litefoot and I were having a bit of a discussion about what we could do today. We were thinking we could show you some of the sights of London."

PGL: "While we wait for the police to turn up any leads, we may as well pass the time in style."

HP: "And maybe we might spot Pop-Pop or Momma on the streets!"

HGJ: "Anything's possible, my boy, but I wouldn't get too excited. London is a big place after all."

HP: "Where are we going first? Is it exciting? I bet it'll be fun."

PGL: "Actually Howard, there's a Halloween fair being held in Regent's Park. I thought we could go admire some of the costumes on display?"

HGJ: *aside* And it's near the office of your Professor Fenchurch"

PGL: "Who knows, if you're very good, Jago might even buy you a toffee apple!"

***

*we hear the drip of leaky pipework and the squeaking of rats*

Whimple Phillips: "I'm telling you, you won't get away with this! Release us, or suffer the consequences of the law. We're from a respectable family, and foreign visitors, our absence will be noticed, and your punishments severe!"

Sarah Phillips: "Father, please sit down. Stop pounding on the bars before you reopen your wound. The monster who caged us doesn't care for the rule of law. Your threats mean nothing to him. His threats on the other hand..."

WP: "Dratted villain! Slicing your hand open like that, how dare he!"

SP: "It's OK, father. The cut could have been deeper after all. It'll heal, in time."

WP: "Assuming no infection gets into it, which given the conditions of our incarceration, is most improbable."

SP: "I'm just glad Howie isn't here, isn't experiencing this fetid cell. He must be terrified, lost and alone in London, but it must be better than this torment. I do hope some kind soul is taking care of him."

WP: "He's a good kid, and tougher than he looks.  In other words, he takes after his mother."

*a damp and swollen wooden door creaks open*

SP: "Oh no, he's coming back."

WP: "Flanked by two of his goons with the ridiculous fish masks. Coward."

Hooded Man: "Careful now, my pets. Even whispers travel far in such echoing chambers."

WP: "Then I'm sure shouts will be heard even further away. It's only a matter of time before someone hears our cries."

HM: "By all means, yell until your lungs give out, old man. It shall do you no favours. London is built on a labyrinth of storm drains and tunnels, where only the rats and the lost dare wander. Nobody will hear your pleas, and even if they did, the Acolytes take care of any intruders."

SP: "You vile, vile man! Why are you holding us here?! Why do you cut us open like animals for slaughter? What's wrong with you?!"

HM: "Such fire in this one, yes. You are here because I need your blood. Your blood is the key, the key to arcane secrets I've spent a lifetime trying to unlock."

WP: "What kind of superstitious junk is this? Sarah, he's a madman, don't expect a rational answer from him."

HM: "You will believe, in time. When the majesty of the Absent Lord is revealed, you shall weep in torturous awe. Perhaps your sanity may even survive the experience."

SP: "But why our blood? Why us?"

HM: "There are certain families, bloodlines, whose ancestry has grazed the realms beyond. I believe you to be one such family. Your blood holds a power, which I need to harness to release my master."

WP: "Well, you've taken our blood already, so whether it worked or not, surely you can see fit to let us leave."

HM: "That paltry tithe was just the beginning! The ritual failed, perhaps your blood has been diluted by inferior stock, perhaps I just need to spill more it. Offer not just your blood, but your life too."

WP: "You won't get away with this! The name of Phillips is too well regarded to just vanish by your hand."

SP: "Oh, Howie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I've failed you."

HM: "Now, which of you should I choose to grace my blade first.... Unless, have I made an error? You're only related to him through marriage, not blood. I need your husband."

SP: "He's locked up on another continent. Good luck getting to him."

HM: "Luckily I don't need him. I have the next best thing, right here in this city. Acolytes, bring me the child! He shares blood with this woman, so sniff him out. He is the key!"

***

PGL: "I say! I haven't had occasion to wander a fair like this since I was a lad! There's a certain atmosphere here, so many people in masks or costumes, turnips carved into hideous grimaces, all of this delicious food..."

HGJ: "It really takes me back, Litefoot. Many's the year I dressed as a ghost or goblin, pestering my neighbours for sweets and treats. I used to go to great efforts crafting my costumes. Had to be creative, we didn't have the budget for anything else."

HP: "Is that when you decided you wanted to be an actor, Mister Jago?"

HGJ: "You know, I never really considered it until now, yet I must admit it certainly played a factor. Dressing up, donning disguises, it just stirred something within me. How about you, Howie, have you any tales of Halloween adventures?"

HP: "Not really. We don't have a lot of neighbours, and not all of them are friendly anyway. I do love heating ghost stories though. Oh, last year one of my friends found some firecrackers and we snuck out at night to play with them."

HGJ: "Ah, fireworks! I have some fond memories of those myself, even if what we was technically illegal and highly dangerous."

PGL: "Are you referring to your childhood, or the time you set your own theatre ablaze?"

HGJ: "Either or, George. Either or. And for the record, that conflagration was entirely contained."

PGL: "Of course Howard, you must remember that fireworks are not toys, no matter how fun they appear. When I think back on my boyhood in China, it's a wonder we escaped without severe burns."

HP: "Can we get some toffee apples, Jago? Please?"

HGJ: "OK Howie, but only because of your manners. Let's just squeeze past these two devils, take a left at the wolfman, and bingo. Here's some  change. Make sure to be right back, OK? The Professor and I will wait here so you can see us at all times."

HP: "Thanks Jago!"

HGJ: "He's an adorable little tyke, isn't he?"

PGL: "He's exceptionally well mannered, and very bright too. I just worry for him. His visions, true or not, are concerning, and I fear what will happen to him if Quick can't locate his mother."

HGJ: "All we can do is hope, I'm afraid, and in the meantime, keep his little spirits up. And if there is some malign force affecting our dreams, maybe your historian friend can shed some light on this Valgthoth character?"

PGL: "Jago, look!"

HGJ: "Where?"

PGL: "Over there, see where that crowd is?"

HGJ: "A bunch of people in fancy dress. Do you suppose there's going to be a parade?"

PGL: "Look closer. There three figures near the front of the crowd, grouped together. Is it just me or do they look rather like..."

HGJ: "Frogmen! Corks Litefoot, they must be here for Howie, we've got to get him to safety!"

PGL: "Agreed. It's a shame, but he'll have to go without his toffee apple."