The Gathering Storm

The steadfast loyalty of Inspector Hecatomb Redoubtable is proving to be one of my few allies against the dark forces which would pervert and destroy this world.  One by one, the Order absorbs my acquaintances, using the vast funds at Braithwhaite’s disposal to lure them from the white path of nobility and honor.

I am feeling more alone than ever.

I am even beginning to suspect my old school chum Darby McTurncoat of falling victim to the Order’s sway.  I have so few friends left!  My days are spent skulking along the shadowy, cobwebbed corridors of Marsden Manor, seeing enemies at every turn.  Every strike of lightning seems to illuminate another!

Late at night, I seek comfort in the memory of my lost Evemelda, lost at sea ten years ago today.  If only she were here to comfort me in my hour of need!

Hark!  Is that a knock upon the old manor’s door?

Friend or foe, I wonder?

The odds favor the latter.

Revolver in hand, I approach the portal, still thundering with the hammering from without, with trepidation and no small amount of resignation.

Oh, also, I’ve decided I’m disgusted with the hook-up culture on Tumblr and Twitter and have decided to no longer assume that anybody I speak to online isn’t a total skank.