Character Sketch: Walter Smith

(This post starts off a series of occassional posts about the characters we play in Adventure!, so you can get to know them a wee bit better. First up is the indominable Walter Smith, who was played by my friend Levi. Next week we'll get back to the action, with another thrilling story from the pages of Bridgette's Diary.)

Walter Smith

(Wallpaper from HD Wallpapers.)

            2^nd Lt. Richard Donovan served with distinction during the Great War, working his way from private to his current rank. It was actually on the battlefield where he first saw things which could not be easily explained, including a first, early encounter with the vampire Nafriel, although he did not understand the significance at the time.

            It was after returning home and being recruited by Branch 9 that young Donovan took the name Walter Smith. He stands about five foot ten inches tall, and is in his mid-30s, making him possibly the only character older than Bridgette. His dark black hair is still kept shorter with a white streak at the temple betraying the awesome situations he has seen. His dark brown eyes usually carry the deadpan, unfazed expression of one who has pretty much seen it all and just isn’t easily impressed anymore.

            Much to either Bridgette’s amusement or dismay, Walter often peppers his language with more, umm, colorful vocabulary, which would not have been easily used in the presence of women during the 1920s, at least not by men of Walter’s caliber. He’s greatly helped expand her own vocabulary, although with most of the words she would only be caught muttering them under her breath.

            Bridgette trusts Walter a great deal, partly because he has more than earned that trust over their time together but also because he reminds of her late father. While Bridgette and her father may have had their differences, he was a man of honor and integrity who was willing to stand up for her when need be. Walter has proven himself made of the same cloth. It is also perhaps because of this connection that Walter manages to not intimidate Bridgette unnecessarily simply by being around her, which is an affect he has on most other people. And when he wants to, Walter can be most intimidating indeed.

            Walter is a big reason Bridgette is willing to work on a contractual basis for Branch 9, simply because of the trust she has placed in him. Also, he is the one who helped her outfit her lab in the basement of her house. While not tip top state of the art, it is still a pretty impressive place in which to conduct research.

            Walter is currently no longer working in the field, having allowed himself to be promoted to serving as the head of Branch 9’s District 13, which explores the more esoteric, not easily explained happenings going on in the world. Since Branch 9 is so secretive, when in the field and needed to pull some sort of official rank, he would claim to be a member of the Bureau of Investigation, the forerunner to our modern Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The Boston Tunnel Affair - After Effects and Wrap Up

Part 8
The Boston Tunnel Affair: Beneath the City, the Tunnels are Alive! Bridgette’s Dairy

Friday, 17 January, 1925

We found out the next day that a good chunk of the immediate area had suffered from the death of the tunnel monster. Several streets were either partially or completely collapsed. City officials were puzzled as to what caused the damage, since according to experts as it didn’t seem to be an earthquake. Our brave little group will spend the next couple of days at the hotel before heading into New York City. At least, I know that is where Miss. O’Reilly and I are going, since we will be filing reports of the adventure with the New York chapter of the Society. As for the evening of our final trip into the sewer tunnels, I returned to my room to shower and take several good stiff drinks from my flask. I may need to renew my physician’s credentials if there are many more trips to America, as that is the only way to get your hands on alcohol in the States these days. Silly Yanks, don’t they realize we need something to steady ourselves after fighting accursed beasties to keep them safe? As for now, I just want to find a comfy location and do nothing but sleep for several days.

Monday, 20 January, 1925

New York City is amazing! Miss. Devereaux accompanied Miss. O’Reilly and myself into the city and has promised to act as a sort of tour guide for all of the necessary sights, which apparently include several department stores as well as the usual monuments. We are in a hotel right in the middle of Manhattan, near the famed Times Square. I must admit to feeling a bit like a hick in the big city, all wide-eyed and agog at the sights. It is nothing like London, which has its own hustle and feel. We shall spend a part of the afternoon writing up our reports for the Society and then take the next couple of days to rest and play tourist. I’m sure we all can use the time to refresh ourselves after such an amazing time of it in Boston. I’m honestly a little worried as to how the upper echelons at the Society will take the contents of our reports, given how fantastical the whole endeavor proved to be. I can only report the facts as they happened. And I suspect my worries may be for naught, as neither Miss. Devereaux nor Mr. Smith appeared too caught off guard by the vampire, Labana. Hopefully I can perhaps find some appropriate time to ask her more on the subject.

It is also disappointing that I shall probably never know more about the tunnel creature. In spite of the sheer horror and awfulness of it all, the entire concept of a living “tunnel” is still fascinating. While the death of the creature has also hopefully ended the disappearances, we still do not understand what was entirely behind them. Was Labana using them as a food source before eventually killing them slowly by exsanguinations? Was she dragging them into the tunnel as food for the tunnel creature? Or was the creature somehow luring them down into the tunnels to consume without any help from the vampire? We’ll never know. And, Dear Diary, you know how very much a scientific mind hates the idea of never being able to understand things.

We shall depart for England on the 24^th. It shall be nice to be back in my cozy cottage with all of my artifacts and books once more. And fortunately for me, Miss. Devereaux has offered to fly me over whenever I need to give my lecture at Harvard. Apparently she is quite the pilot. I am rather looking forward to it. Not only will it allow me to return to the States for another visit, but it shall be nice to add to my vitae. And the added time spent with Miss. Devereaux shall be nice. Perhaps then I can find out more of her past adventures with Mr. Smith.

I wonder if the Millennium Society will have any other adventures for me in the future. Hopefully they won’t be as sanity-sacrificing as this last one. I’m trying very much not to dwell upon what happened. I may be better ready to process and digest it all after our return to England, but as of now, it’s still too new and strange.

The Boston Tunnel Affair - It Ends Now

Part 7
The Boston Tunnel Affair: Beneath the City, the Tunnels are Alive!

Bridgette’s Dairy
Thursday, 15 January, 1925, Continued

          Up ahead the tunnel turned sharply to the left. As we rounded the corner, I saw the most awe-inspiring sight of my life. The tunnel was indeed a living entity, all be it one that I would be hard pressed to define or describe. Before us the chamber opened up, becoming both wider and taller. And there, just ahead, hung a gigantic heart. You could watch it pulse as it beat. Suspended behind it was an equally large pair of lungs, expanding and contracting as though they were actually engaged in respiration. As if that were not horror enough, perched upon the heart was Labana, drinking deeply from the blood that coursed through it. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I am certain I screamed - at least a small scream. Not so Mr. Smith, who quickly shot off two rounds from his big gun. At least one of them hit her square on, not that you could make out any discernable damage from where we stood. The second shot seemed to ricochet from her metallic exterior and careened into the nearby wall. I watched, fascinated as the creature quivered from the impact, perhaps even from the pain, and a trickle of bright red blood ran down the wall.

Shortly after Mr. Smith’s shots rang out, Mr. Long let out a battle cry in a tongue I couldn’t understand and launched himself at the metal vampire. Using the wall as leverage, he crashed into her with both feet, knocking her from her position of feeding. With a snarl, she swung at him with what I am sure was enough force to knock him into one of the walls. Thankfully he ducked that limber body out of the way before she could actually impact.

Mr. Rasicci had also pulled his gun and began to rain more bullets down upon the heart of the tunnel creature. Mr. Smith took the time to take a careful aim before firing once again upon Labana, scoring another direct shot.

During all of this, Mr. Long was in the thick of it all, going hammer and tongs against her. You could see him land blow after kick in quick succession. Labana was not entirely without her own defenses, as she continued to fight back, knocking Mr. Long on his back in the stomach acid on at least one occasion. In the end, he prevailed - landing a kick that snapped her head back and sent her falling into the acidic liquid sloshing around them. At a shout of warning from Mr. Smith, he came running back towards us as we all ducked behind the safety of the bend.

I’m not sure I could describe the explosion that followed, but I shall give it a try. Apparently silver metallic vampires explode after their bodies have taken enough damage. Labana now erupted in a rain of metal shrapnel in all directions, taking the heart and lungs of the tunnel creature with her. We watched as scraps of metal embedded themselves in the wall nearby, all accompanied with a hail of stomach acid and bits of organ tissue. It is probably fortunate that none of us had time to ponder what we had just seen, for a rumbling beneath our feet alerted us to yet another problem and we turned to run for the entrance back up to the hotel.

All around us came tumbling down bits of tissue from the living walls as well as the brick and mortar that made up the support behind them. It was as though the entire city were collapsing on our heads. We made it to our entrance, scurrying back up into the laundry room and slamming the trapdoor shut before the shock waves fully reached that far. When they did arrive, the floor shook mightily, but at least we didn’t have to worry about a backsplash of acid sloshing up through the opening and all over the floor.

 
 

Friday, 17 January, 1925

We found out the next day that a good chunk of the immediate area had suffered from the death of the tunnel monster. Several streets were either partially or completely collapsed. City officials were puzzled as to what caused the damage, since according to experts as it didn’t seem to be an earthquake. Our brave little group will spend the next couple of days at the hotel before heading into New York City. At least, I know that is where Miss. O’Reilly and I are going, since we will be filing reports of the adventure with the New York chapter of the Society. As for the evening of our final trip into the sewer tunnels, I returned to my room to shower and take several good stiff drinks from my flask. I may need to renew my physician’s credentials if there are many more trips to America, as that is the only way to get your hands on alcohol in the States these days. Silly Yanks, don’t they realize we need something to steady ourselves after fighting accursed beasties to keep them safe?

 

Game Product Review - Annals of the Drunken Wizard: Critical Hit-Exchanging Weapon Special Abilities

It's not 1920s related, but I have my first real product review up over at RPGNow. It's for a game supplement designed for the Pathfinder RPG. Please, go take a look if you have a moment. And if you enjoy Pathfinder, or even Dungeons and Dragons, maybe consider the product. (And yes, I did get a copy to review, just so you know.) I'm a little excited because not only is it a really fun supplement, but I also get a thank-you mention in it for having looked it over and giving my input on the thing while Bradley was finishing it up. Look for Tryllyam on the first page, which will link back to here. This is the first time I've ever gotten onto the thank-you page of someone's work and it left me a little giddy.

Here's a link to the product in question. http://www.rpgnow.com/product/113158/Annals-of-the-Drunken-Wizard%3A-Critical-Hit-Exchanging-Weapon-Special-Abilities-%5BPFRPG%5D?term=drunken+wizard

The Boston Tunnel Affair - Back Into the Sewers

Part 6
The Boston Tunnel Affair: Beneath the City, the Tunnels are Alive!

Bridgette’s Dairy
Thursday, 15 January, 1925

 

 

Dear Diary, we survived, although Boston may never be the same again and I’m still not sure what in Hell it was that we killed last night. Let me start back where I last left off.

We once again met up as a group, only this time we gathered in Mr. Smith’s room. Mr. Rasicci had managed to procure enough gas masks for the lot of us, thank goodness. I’m not sure what we would have done otherwise, or how fervently I would be wishing that I didn’t need to enter the sewer once again. Miss. Devereaux and Miss. O’Reilly had purchased some extra electric torches and heavy gloves. They even managed to find heavy boots for those of us needing them. And Mr. Smith got his hands on some silver ammunition for their various firearms. My small caliber pistol was of little use in such a fight, but I did bring it along with me, just in case. Its weight in my pocket offered a small measure of comfort, even if I didn’t have any of the special bullets.

I explained that I thought the liquid in the can would serve as a protectant from the creature’s digestive fluids and shared my suspicion that Labana lost her skin in the sewer because the fluid’s acid could not affect whatever metal of which she was composed. Of course, there is also the possibility that she just enjoyed running around looking like something from a science fiction penny dreadful. Or perhaps she was merely an exhibitionist.

We suited up in Mr. Smith’s room with the boots and treated our clothing and skin with the can’s contents. The gas masks and heavy gloves we added in the laundry room just before we entered the pit to the tunnel once again. Trying not to attract any extra attention to ourselves, we also took a back stairwell down to the ground floor. I think we were successful.

Once again, one of the men had to assist me in landing on the ground, as I didn’t want to enter the dreadful, acidic fluid any sooner than absolutely necessary. Mr. Long apparently didn’t have those reservations, as he started out walking down the middle of the tunnel, commenting after a few steps that I had, indeed, been correct in my assessment of the can’s contents. Nice to know he has faith in my abilities.

We retraced our steps from the previous evening fairly quickly, even if we did slow down considerably as we once again approached the location where we had encountered Labana. She was not there and we honestly had no way of knowing if she was currently in the tunnels with us. The thought did send shivers down my spine since I had no idea just how formidable an opponent she would be. Could she take out everyone in our group without any effort? Her metal body possessed a natural armor that was difficult to penetrate.

The entire time the liquid in the tunnel was getting deeper and wider. Somewhere around the 75 foot mark, there was no avoiding walking through it and soon we were all sloshing around in the fluid up to our ankles and higher. At a hundred and some odd feet, we encountered the most curious curtain hanging across the tunnel. It covered the entire expanse without any break except for where it hung free at the sides. It turned out to be created entirely of skin, although I’d be loathe to wager a guess on the type of skin. If it turned out to be human, I’m not sure I’d ever sleep again. Luckily, Mr. Smith was towards the front and, as such, was the one who moved it aside. Mr. Rasicci was kind enough to hold it back for the rest of us to pass. Upon walking by it, I noticed that the skin appeared to still be living. I am beyond indebted to him for his small kindness in holding the curtain open for us. My quota for weirdness has already been met for the next decade and I’ve a feeling that it is only going to get worse.

A few feet farther on, we came to what seemed to be a central location in the tunnels, or at least a connecting point, as three tunnels came together into a central, more open point that continues onward. Here the acidic liquid was much deeper, reaching up to my chest. Perhaps it’s a good thing that I’m the shortest in the group as anyone much shorter than I am would be in trouble. As far as I can tell, the protective fluid from the metal can is still working to protect us from the affects of the acid. Thank goodness for small favors.

Next week, the stunning conclusion...