ADVENTURE PREMISE CREATION STEP

(Inspired by Mythic – Communicate / Friendship)

 

 

Is it Jennifer Sherwood doing the communicating? (50/50) – Yes

What kind of “friendship” is she communicating? (Complex) – Block / Benefits

Interpretation: She is organizing a meeting of like-minded persons to overcome opposition to reforms.

 

Is one of the reforms in question women's rights, especially suffrage? (Likely) – Yes

Are any other reforms on the agenda? (50/50) – Yes

How many? (roll 1d2) – 2

What are they? (2 Complex questions) – Debase / Power; Communicate / The Spiritual

Interpretation: Exposing corruption in local government; and promoting civic duty & responsibility.

 

Well, this is probably going to stir up trouble. I suppose someone's going to try to stop Jennifer's efforts!

 

Who will be her antagonist? (Complex) – Block / Plans

Interpretation: It's someone who knows precisely what Jennifer has planned at every turn, and intends to stop it – by any means necessary!

 

I'm going to assume the antagonist is a man. He’s probably influential and powerful….

Is he a politician? (Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: He's a high-ranking official!

Is it the mayor of the City? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

 

Why is the mayor opposed? Is he corrupt? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

He's in it up to his neck, all right! He’s gotten rich by being in office – and wants to keep it that way!

Does this corruption involve a connection to criminal activity, somehow? (Unlikely) – No

Okay, so it’s just in the form of what Boss Tweed called “honest” graft – kickbacks, favors, etc.

 

Well, he's definitely not going to like Jennifer's efforts, as they might well get him kicked out of office.

How will he seek to stop her, though? (Complex) – Celebrate / Ambush

Interpretation: He's going to have her kidnapped while at, or on the way to, a festive gathering.

 

He can’t do this himself. Who's going to be his agent(s)? A Master Villain? (Very Unlikely) – No

Okay, good! Dr. Xavier Matthews doesn’t show up again for a while....

So, who is going to do the dirty deed for him? (Complex) – Propose / Danger

Interpretation: Yikes! It’s someone who likes to warn his victims before he strikes!

 

What will he do to Jennifer after he kidnaps her? Kill her, or at least threaten to do so? (Very Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: He’s going to try to kill her, all right – in some sort of melodramatic deathtrap! (Of course; what else would you expect from a 1915 pulp story?)

 

 

Cue up our next adventure – The Jeopardies of Jennifer!

ADVENTURE PREMISE

 

      It’s election time in The City and Miss Jennifer Sherwood, publisher of the City Town Crier and reform advocate, has decided that it’s high time that Mayor Cyril Vaughn – long suspected of corruption in public office, and an outspoken critic of past reform efforts – was replaced. To that end, she has begun mobilizing support for his opponent, the state's attorney general, by communicating with the leaders of local women's rights groups and other reform organizations. The purpose: to organize a mass meeting that will cement a unified Progressive Front in support of Vaughn's challenger, for he has promised to sweep out the “good old boy network” at City Hall and usher in a new, honest, and more effective local government.

 

      Well, the honorable Mister Vaughn, leader of the local political machine, won’t stand for that! Having made himself rich off of kickbacks, influence peddling, and favors, he has no intention of letting this meddlesome socialite drive him out of office. Fully aware of what Jennifer has planned, he uses that inside information to a ruthless end, secretly hiring someone to kidnap and eliminate the young heiress, thus wrecking her plans to gather the City’s progressives into the kind of powerful force that could very well deprive him of his illicitly-gained wealth.

 

      What Vaughn and his nefarious agent don’t realize is that this girl isn’t some helpless damsel. And with the vigilante called Shadowvixen on the case, the political season is about to positively explode!

“THE JEOPARDIES OF JENNIFER”

A Shadowvixen Tale of Pulp Adventure in Eight Thrilling Rounds

by Jeff Pierce

 

(Told using the solo rules for World vs. Hero by John Fiore, employing the Mythic Game Master Emulator and the “Heroic Disadvantages” variant for WvH developed by Jeff Pierce)

 

 

PROLOGUE

 

      Slowly pacing around the tastefully decorated office that had once belonged to her deceased great-uncle, publishing magnate Edward M. Masterson, a certain lovely young woman dictated the conclusion of her letter.

      “…and so I have come to the conclusion that, despite the best efforts of the Town Crier and others to expose the miasma of corruption surrounding City Hall these past months, it will probably not be enough to convince a majority of voters to turn out our incumbent mayor. Our state’s attorney general, the Honorable David Ambrose, is as fine a candidate as any we progressive-minded souls could hope for – an honest man, a crusader against crime and corruption, and open to the potentialities of reform. But for him to win against the Vaughn Machine, he needs more support than what his party can provide.

      “I am therefore writing this appeal to you, as a fellow progressive and one who desires to see positive change in our fair City. I propose that we hold a meeting at Convention Hall on Friday, September 17^th – the anniversary of the signing of our national Constitution – to organize a common Progressive Front, uniting the women’s rights and suffragist movements with other reform groups, that will raise political awareness and rally our citizens to action over the critical weeks prior to the election. I am confident that, by publicly showing we can overcome our own differences to throw our support behind Mr. Ambrose, we can swing the election in his favor. By ridding local government of its corrupt influences, we can not only pave the way for long-overdue improvements for our City; we can also promote ideals that will earn the respect and admiration of our fellow citizens – and hopefully, their support for equal rights for the distaff half of our population.

      “Please let me know at your earliest convenience your degree of interest and participation in this effort.

      “Looking forward to your reply, I remain your obedient servant, Jennifer Sherwood.”

----------

      The titular head of Masterson Publishing Enterprises, Inc., attired in a cream-colored dress with rose highlights, turned from the twelfth-story window that overlooked the City's bustling downtown area and glanced over at her secretary. “I think that does it. Do you have it all, Florence?” she asked.

       Florence Armstrong, a pretty girl of seventeen recently graduated from high school and a whiz at shorthand and typewriting, nodded to Jennifer with a smile. Though not much younger than her employer, the short brunette – she stood just 4’11” – had been in awe of the well-known publisher, philanthropist, and suffragette during her first days on the job. Her youthful enthusiasm, though, combined with Jennifer's easy charm, had quickly turned her into a confident secretary...and an unexpected friend and confidante to Miss Sherwood.

      “Yes, ma'am! I also have the envelopes ready to mail; they'll go out by the afternoon post,” Florence said.

      Jennifer smiled back. “Very good, Flo,” she said, using the endearing short form of her teenaged employee's name. “I just hope this isn't a waste of time,” she added with a rueful smirk.

      Florence shook her head. “No, ma'am! I'm sure they'll see things your way, too! I've read the paper these past weeks, after all. I can't believe that people don't see the corruption! The scandals!”

      “Welcome to the world of machine politics, dear,” Jennifer explained with a sigh. “It's not that they don't see it, Florence. They do, and it angers many of them. But for many others, it's nothing more than 'politics as usual'; and because local ward bosses can grease the vote with favors, and work their ballot-stuffing magic when necessary, the Vaughn Machine can pretty much assure itself of victory so long as their opponents are disorganized. That's why this time we have to rally around one man and carry him over the finish line, if there's finally to be real change in this City!”

      “Yes, ma'am! And you're the one to make it happen!” Florence exclaimed enthusiastically.

      The heiress laughed and shook her head. “No, not alone, Flo – not nearly alone! Just call me an irritating little flea, pestering others until they finally scratch the itch.” With that, she turned back to her desk and settled into the luxurious depths of its fine leather armchair with a sigh of contentment. “All right, Flo; that'll be all for now. I'd like to be alone for a bit. No calls except the really important ones.”

      Her pretty assistant nodded. “Of course, Miss Sherwood. I'll get to work typing these letters out for your signature. I should have them ready by lunchtime.”

      “Thank you, Flo,” Jennifer said, not bothering to open her eyes as she lounged dreamily.

      Florence got up from her chair and padded out of the carpeted office, closing the door softly behind her. She knew when her boss wanted and needed some quiet time.

      Jennifer Sherwood opened one eye at the closed door to her office, and smiled fondly. Flo's been such a wonderful find, she thought. Smart, self-assured, and she's turned out to be a nice friend, too. Almost like a little sister. A wistful sigh escaped her lips, recalling distant and all-too-few memories of a time when she did have a sibling...before tragedy struck, leaving her both brotherless and parentless.

      She shook away the remembered pain. It was long ago, and there were other claims upon her emotions now.

      The beautiful publisher smiled in anticipation. She pulled out a well-worn envelope from a locked drawer, and rested her stylishly-booted feet upon her desk as she read, for the umpteenth time, the letter that had arrived three days ago at Masterson Manor. It bore no return address, and its postmark was some remote location in Colorado – which had instantly indicated to her whom its author was.

      The short note was simple and to the point, and Jennifer had it memorized by now. But that didn't stop her from enjoying the thrill of reading it again:

 

My Dearest Jenny,

 

            Hello from the Far West! I wish I could tell you where I am, exactly. It's beautiful country out here – though not nearly as beautiful as you! It's also pretty lonely; not much else to do but look at the scenery, grow a beard, and curl up with a good book. Which, I suppose, is why they chose the place, eh?

            The book's on the market now, and getting pretty good reviews from the academic types. Professor Marston's getting coached on public speaking, and he should be starting his tour in another month – including a stop in the City, I'm sure. I'll let you know as soon as I do.

            I can't wait to see you again. What a thrill it will be to hold you in my arms once more! Until then, I content myself with the memory of our secret night together...and the promise of many more like it to come. Take care of yourself night and day, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble!

                                                                                                            All my love,

                                                                                                            Your very own “St. Nick”

 

      Jennifer sighed and held the letter over her heart. Had it been only a month since they'd parted? Since that night of ecstasy, when she'd let him discover her most intimate secrets? It was a good thing she had her professional and social duties – and her nocturnal activities as a certain masked crimefighter – to distract her! Even so, she couldn't help but count the days before Miss Sherwood could properly meet Professor Nicholas Marston “for the first time”...and the romance between Shadowvixen and Nick Cannon could resume once more.

      With a final, wistful sigh, the youthful socialite put her precious missive back into the most burglar-proof desk drawer within a hundred miles. She would take it back home with her this evening, though; no sense in taking the chance that anyone else might find out about her tryst with a former secret agent!

      Our future will take care of itself, Jennifer thought. Before then, though, I want this City to be the kind of place Nick and I will be proud to call our home – and to raise our family in, when the time comes for that. And ousting Mayor Vaughn and his equally corrupt cronies will be a good step in that direction!

      Little did she realize that within hours, her plans would be known by those she sought to defeat. Nor that they would stop at nothing to remove her from grand game of politics – permanently.

 

* * * * *

 

ROUND ONE – Establish Initial Location (inspired by Mythic – Inform / Messages)

 

Is it Jennifer Sherwood being informed of messages? (Likely) – Yes

Ah, good. She's getting replies to her proposal!

Are the replies mostly positive? (Very Likely) – Yes

Are any of the replies negative? (Unlikely) – Yes

Why is that one reply negative? (Complex) – Procrastinate / Status Quo

Interpretation: That's self-explanatory; someone wants to stop the meeting and keep things as they are!

 

Is this “reply” actually a threat? (50/50) – No

Is it from Mayor Vaughn? (Very Unlikely; he wouldn't be so bold as to challenge her, would he?) – Yes

I guess he is! So, the adventure premise is well and truly set up, now....

Is Jennifer getting these replies at her office? (50/50) – Exceptional No!

Okay, they must be coming strictly to her home, then. That sets up our first location!

 

Masterson Manor, 1900 Lincoln Avenue West – 2:20 PM, Saturday, September 4^th, 1915

 

      “Here is the latest mail, Jennifer,” said Kurosawa Rani, one of the two Japanese housekeepers of Masterson Manor who, with Edward Masterson, had been her surrogate family since she was orphaned.

      “Thank you, Rani!” the mistress of the manor exclaimed anxiously. Already several positive replies had come to her with the morning mail, but from various small reform groups seeking some exposure and publicity by attaching themselves to Jennifer's initiative. These new replies were from the major progressive organizations, the ones whose participation was essential if the planned convention was to be a success. Eagerly, but with some trepidation, Miss Sherwood opened each envelope in turn and scanned its contents.

      From the Women's Suffrage Association: Wonderful idea! Will be glad to lend our support to Mr. Ambrose, a man who understands why we need the right to vote!

      From the Temperance League: Will attend in earnest. Attorney General Ambrose knows the saloons and crime are linked together, and will surely support our cause.

      From the Reform Club: You are most correct, dear Jennifer – we Progressives must stand together in this hour! Count on us to be there.

      And, most importantly, from a certain candidate's campaign manager: Miss Sherwood, on behalf of Mr. David Ambrose, we cordially accept your invitation to the City Progressives' Convention scheduled for the seventeenth of this month. He looks forward to meeting with all of you and delivering the keynote speech. We deeply appreciate your efforts to bring all forward-thinking citizens together into an effective coalition that will oust Mr. Cyril Vaughn and his corrupt administration from City Hall. Please let us know what we can do to help coordinate the event.

      The publisher of the City Town Crier was normally a rather dignified lady; but on this occasion, decorum went right out the window. Instead, she let out a loud whoop! and spun around in her chair, laughing in sheer delight. “They accepted! They're all coming – even Ambrose! Oh, this is better than I ever expected!” Jennifer cried.

      “Congratulations,” Rani said, maintaining her Oriental calmness of spirit. “Now you are free to attend to the hundred-and-one details involved in organizing and hosting a convention of several hundred people in less than two weeks' time.”

      That brought Jennifer to a sobering stop. “Oh...yes, I suppose you're right, Rani,” she admitted in a quiet voice of full realization. “Well, at least most of the attendees are local, so lodging shouldn't be a concern. But there's still the matter of deciding the agenda and printing the programs, and advertising the event, and arranging for coverage by press other than the Town Crier.”

      “Also, arranging for catering the food, and organizing security for the meeting, and getting the seats and tables and lecterns all set up, and deciding on the seating arrangements, and...” Rani ticked off on her fingers, unable to prevent a slight smile of mischief from crossing her face as poor Jennifer began to look ill.

      “Rani!” came a cry outside in the hall, and in a moment, her husband Mitsuru came in with another envelope. “This was on the stairway; you must have dropped it while carrying in the mail – accidentally, of course,” he clarified.

      “Of course it was an accident,” Jennifer immediately agreed, grateful for the interruption. “Knowing how spotless Rani and Mary keep the manor, I know she would have picked it up instantly had she known she'd dropped it. So who's it from, Mitsuru?”

      The middle-aged Issei shrugged. “I do not know, Jennifer. There is no return address,” he said, handing it to her. Giving it a once-over with a detective's eye, she noted the high quality of the envelope; presumably, the paper inside was the same, and would indicate its sender was financially well-off. But why no return address? All there was to show its origins was a downtown postmark. Hmm'ing her curiosity, she used a letter opener to slice open the envelope, withdrew its contents, and began to read.

      It didn't take long for those contents to put a scowl on her face. Typed and without even the courtesy of a signature, they read as follows:

 

From the Office of the Mayor

 

September 3^rd, 1915

 

Miss Sherwood,

 

     I am a busy man, yet I feel I must take the time to dictate this letter to you. I have learned of your proposed “progressives' convention” on behalf of my opponent. Madam, I am appalled by your forwardness. The City has enough to deal with on a daily basis as it is without a bunch of self-appointed do-gooders and “reformers” stirring up trouble! My re-election is a foregone conclusion, so save yourself time, effort, and most of all, good money by calling off this meeting. I assure you, it will only bring grief and embarrassment to both yourself and your fellow “suffragettes”.

 

                           The Honorable CYRIL VAUGHN

 

P.S. – Do have the intelligence to know that, this being typed with no signature, I can easily claim it to be a forgery, should you try to have this published in your sad excuse for a newspaper.

 

      Jennifer Sherwood read it through, then angrily showed it to her respected mentors. “The nerve of that man!” she seethed. “I figured the mayor to be smarter than to personally confront me like that. 'Forward', am I? 'A sad excuse for a newspaper'? HA!” the enraged heiress barked. “Just you wait, Cyril Vaughn. I have not yet begun to fight!”

 

 

ROUND ONE TABLEAU:  7D, 1C, KH, JS, 5C

 

(Masterson Manor is a Recurring Location; entries #3, 6, 9, and 10 to be generated by the Mythic GME)

 

 

World – Round 1, Turn 1

Access 1C – A STATUS SYMBOL attracts attention (Low Impact)

 

What is the status symbol? A statue? (50/50) – Yes

Is it outside the manor? (50/50) – No

Inside, then. What about the statue is attracting attention? (Complex) – Negligence / Extravagance

Interpretation: It's a very expensive piece that has gotten damaged somehow.

Did anyone inside the manor damage it? (Unlikely) – No

Is this damage in some way related to Vaughn's opposition? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: It's a clear and very threatening warning, all right!

 

      After an hour or so working in her upstairs study on the initial plans for the convention, Jennifer came down for a spot of tea. She'd just reached the bottom of the grand staircase when there came a blood-curdling scream of terror from the reception hall!

      Entering the hall at a dead run, her combat senses at full tilt, Jennifer saw her twenty-six-year-old housemaid, Mary Oakeshotte, staring up towards the mantelpiece with a look of stark horror upon her solid English Midlands features, her hands covering her mouth in shock. Following her gaze, the mistress of the manor saw her great-uncle's priceless bust of Marie Antoinette covered in blood! And below it, scrawled in red upon a card pinned to the mantelpiece, was a sign:

 

 

YOU'RE NEXT, MISS SHERWOOD!

 

 

Hero – Round 1, Turn 1

Access 7D – Detective; finds clues and makes deductions (Low Impact).

 

      “Jennifer!” cried Rani as she came hastening downstairs from the bedrooms. “Are you alright?!”

      “Yes, I'm fine, Rani,” called back Jennifer as she comforted her housemaid and guided her out of the spacious room. “I'm afraid poor Mary has had a bad shock, though. Could you please tend to her? I'll explain everything in a little while,” she told her Japanese 'mother' as she intercepted Rani short of the reception hall. There was no sense in exposing both of them to the horrible sight, after all.

      Once Rani had taken Mary under her wing and led her into the kitchen, Jennifer returned to quickly examine the bust and the card. She had only a few moments before others might arrive! Taking out from her dress pocket a small magnifying glass she'd been using in the study to find any way to link Vaughn's letter to the mayor himself (without success), she first took a look at the vandalized bit of statuary, then at the scarlet letters.

 

Question: Does the bust reveal any clues? (Likely) – Exceptional No!

Well, nothing to be found there. What about the note? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Aha! What 'exceptional' thing has Jennifer found? (Complex) – Activity / Food

Interpretation: Whoever left the note had recently been eating, and left traces of it behind!

 

It must be an unusual food, then. Is it a foreign delicacy? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Wow! It's not only foreign, it's an unusual dish even for that country!

From what foreign part of the world? Asia? (50/50) – No

How about Europe? (50/50) – Exceptional Yes!

So it's an obscure dish from an obscure part of Europe. In Eastern Europe? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

It has to be obscure....Is it in the Baltic States? (50/50) – No; Someplace in Poland? (50/50) – No

I'm starting to run out of geography here...Hungary? (50/50) – Yes

Ah! I know what the food is! But would Jennifer have any idea what it is and where it's from? (No Way) – Yes (15)

 

      A visual inspection of the bust revealed nothing about who might have done the deed. Neither did the blood-red writing on the note. But when Jennifer turned the card over, she discovered a reddish-brown smear that didn't look like it was ink. Indeed, from its appearance and consistency, it looked more like a food stain of some sort. Experimentally, the distaff detective moistened a finger in her mouth, mixed her saliva into the stain to activate its ingredients, and took a cautious sniff.

      Strong memories often are associated not with sights or sounds, but with scents. As her olfactory senses reacted to the faint aroma left in the accidental smear, Jennifer's mind suddenly recalled where and when she'd smelled something exactly like it before! It had been six years earlier, after her great-uncle Edward Masterson had used his newspaper's influence and investigative reporting to clear the name of a noted Hungarian émigré accused of a sensational crime. In gratitude, he'd hosted a great feast in Masterson's honor before the assembled leaders of the City's expatriate Hungarian community. The elderly publisher, believing that his young ward should be introduced to the famous intellectual and his native culture, had brought Jennifer along. The food served that night was spicy and delicious, and had left an indelible impression upon her – an impression that now returned to her with full force.

      “Székely gulyás,” she whispered to herself as she thoughtfully tapped the edge of the card against her chin. “Hungarian goulash; and an obscure form of that dish, too. Very interesting....”

 

World – Round 1, Turn 2

Access 7D – the MANOR itself poses a danger somehow (High Impact)

 

Is there a chandelier in the reception hall? (A Sure Thing) – Yes

Does it come crashing down? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: Not only does the chandelier fall, so does a considerable chunk of the ceiling!

 

      Just then, as Jennifer stepped back from the mantelpiece deep in thought, a cracking noise was heard, and bits of plaster began to rain down about her. Startled out of her reverie and looking up, her consternation turned to horror as she saw the ceiling around the ornate chandelier above her head disintegrating before her eyes!

      She had only enough time to recognize what was happening before the ceiling gave way entirely, sending the chandelier crashing down upon the young heiress!

 

 

Hero – Round 1, Turn 2

Access 1C, use 5C – Ally in Clubs: DANNY BRANCH, the footman, appears to save Miss Sherwood! (Moderate Impact)

 

      Then a forceful blow impacted her from behind, nearly knocking the wind out of her as she was bodily shoved out of the way of the falling ornament, which fell to the floor of the hall with a resounding CRASH!!!

      Rolling over onto her back and struggling to a sitting position, Jennifer saw her six-foot-tall footman, Danny Branch, grimacing with his legs pinned beneath the chandelier. Having just come in from the garage outside where he'd been checking with the mechanic, he'd learned from Rani and Mary what had happened in the reception hall. He had just decided to check on his mistress and see things for himself when he saw the light fixture above her about to come down. Without a thought for his own safety, he'd launched himself right at Miss Sherwood and rudely shoved her aside, saving her life!

      At a price, however; Jennifer could see blood coming out of his trapped legs, and it was clear Danny was in great pain.

 

 

World – Round 1, Turn 3

Access 5C – One of the MANOR SERVANTS appears, bearing bad news (Moderate Impact); use KH to activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Selfless (Low Impact)

 

      “Danny!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Don't worry, I'll get help!” With that, she got up to do just that – but she needn't have bothered. Both of the Kurosawas, along with Mary Oakeshotte, came into the room, drawn by the enormous crash. Mary shrieked and rushed to Danny's side to comfort him; the two had grown quite close since their employment started at Masterson Manor three years ago.

      “Rani, please go fetch Sam and Adam!” Jennifer ordered, referring to her gardener and mechanic/chauffeur, respectively. “We need their strength to get this damnable piece of metal off of Danny!”

      Mary turned to her mistress. “I'm sorry, Miss Jennifer, but neither of them are here! Daniel said he'd just sent them into town to fetch some supplies for the Manor, at the instruction of Mister Kurosawa.”

      “That is true,” Mitsuru said grimly. “So it is up to us to aid Mister Branch, if we are to save him.”

      Jennifer put a determined look on her face. “And we will save him, Mary,” she reassured her maid. “No matter what it takes!”

 

 

Hero – Round 1, Turn 3

Access 5C, use 1C – Character Assumption: Working together, the three ladies and Mitsuru can lift the heavy chandelier off of Danny's legs and tend to him. (Moderate Impact)

 

Is there anything they can use as a lever? (Somewhat Likely, given the damage) – Exceptional Yes!

Man, I can't believe all these extreme rolls! Anyway, they find a piece of fallen beam that's just perfect.

 

      “All right – Mitsuru, help me pick up that beam there,” Jennifer said, pointing to a long, sturdy bit of 2x4 wood that had fallen from the ceiling along with the chandelier. “Rani, get a footstool for us to use as a fulcrum.”

      Working together, she and her housekeepers positioned the beam to where they could pry the light fixture off of the injured footman. Then, as Jennifer, Mitsuru and Rani put forward all of their strength upon the beam and lifted the heavy chandelier off of Danny's legs, Mary pulled him out from underneath it until he was safely clear of it. As she did, his legs left a smear of blood upon the floor.

      Once he was clear, the others let the beam down again, and the ladies quickly began tending to Danny's injuries while Mitsuru called for both an ambulance and the police.

 

 

World – Round 1, Turn 4

Access JS – Being, Aggressive / Dispute / Pain (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: The person behind the accident warns of an even direr fate for Miss Sherwood!

 

      Almost as soon as Mitsuru had put down the telephone, it rang. He picked it up and answered, “Masterson Manor.”

      “May I speak with the mistress of the house, please?” came an deep, accented voice.

      “She...is occupied with a pressing matter,” Mitsuru replied evasively. No sense in letting a stranger know what had transpired; they'd read about in the papers tomorrow, anyway. “May I take a message?”

      “No, I must speak with her personally – assuming, of course, that she is not dead,” the voice hissed. The old ninjitsu warrior tensed in response, then turned to Jennifer, who was helping the other ladies of the household bind Danny's injuries with crude bandages cut from a tablecloth.

      “Miss Sherwood,” Mitsuru said to her in an unnaturally calm and formal tone, “I think you should take this call yourself. I believe it to be the culprit.”

      Jennifer looked up at him in surprise, then dashed to the phone and anxiously took it from Mitsuru's hands. “Hello? Who is this?” she demanded.

      “Merely the one who nearly caused your death this afternoon, Miss Sherwood,” the accented voice replied menacingly.

      “Sir, whoever you are, you have injured one of my servants and frightened the rest of my staff badly,” she told him. “I promise you, I will employ the full force of the police and my own resources, until you are caught and made to pay for what you have done.”

      “And you will all fail to catch me,” he mocked. “I have promised you will be next to fall at my hand, Miss Sherwood. You should have died today. Instead, you will now meet a much more terrible end, when you least expect it!” An evil gloating chuckle followed those words, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine....

 

 

Hero – Round 1, Turn 4

Access KH – Character Assumption: Jennifer's “woman's intuition” leads her to suspect something more is at work here. (Low Impact)

 

      “Have I no way to avoid your persecution?” Jennifer asked, putting just a touch of fear into her voice – an easy task, given the circumstances – so as to ensure neither her caller nor her servants could suspect that an angry vigilante lurked beneath her high-society facade.

      “There is a way you can save yourself,” the unknown voice leered. “Call off this fools' convention you have planned and announce it on the front page of your precious newspaper tomorrow. Politics is a man's game, lady!”

      “Oh, really?” the suffragette publisher retorted. “It's just that kind of chauvinist attitude that proves women deserve the vote – to offset the villainy of men like you!”  She then got an odd feeling...an intuition that seemed ludicrous! “You wouldn't be working for Cyril Vaughn, would you?” she asked casually, giving in to her sudden impulse.

World – Round 1, Turn 5

Access KH – See entry for Turn 4 above (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: The Voice now intensifies his warning, and follows through with action!

 

Will he make another attempt to kill her now? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

What will he try to do? Will he try to have her shot from concealed ambush? (50/50) – Yes

Does he warn her it's about to happen, even obliquely? (Likely) – No

 

      “Who I work for, if anyone, is none of your business,” the Voice angrily hissed. “The only thing you should be concerned about is your life. Again, give up your plans – or else!”

      “And I say, no amount of threat will make me call off the convention!” Jennifer told him. “Do what you will! But the more you try, the more you will simply stick your neck into the hangman's noose!”

      “Perhaps I will,” the Voice agreed, “but you will not live to see that happen. Goodbye, Miss Sherwood,” he said in a tone of grim finality before hanging up.

      Immediately, Jennifer clicked the phone to contact the operator. “Hello? Operator! I need to know the origin of that last call, please!” Her back was to the large bay window that looked out onto the rear lawn and the hedge maze beyond it – which made her a perfect target for the marksman stationed in the gazebo at the center of the maze, some sixty yards away.

      He looked through his telescopic sight of his high-powered air rifle, put his crosshairs squarely in the middle of the heiress' head, and pulled the trigger.

 

 

Hero – Round 1, Turn 5

Access JS – Character Assumption: Jennifer's martial arts training as Shadowvixen, together with the knowledge of imminent danger, has sharpened her reflexes, enough to save her life! (Low Impact)

 

Does Jennifer see anything to warn her that the shot is coming? (Unlikely) – No

Does Mitsuru see anything to warn her? (Unlikely) – No

I knew those low rolls would come back to bite me. Does anyone see anything? (Unlikely) – Yes

Who is it? Rani? (50/50) – No; Mary? (50/50) – Exceptional Yes! (02)

 

      It was Mary who saved her mistress this time. Looking idly out the west-facing window as she tried to keep calm for Danny's sake, she saw the reflection of the sunlight off the shooter's telescope, which itself caught the Sun's reflection off of the window panes. And, anxious as she was for Jennifer's safety, the housemaid instinctively realized what it was.

      “DUCK, MISS SHERWOOD!” Mary shouted in warning.

      Jennifer didn't hesitate. She dove to the floor – just as the bullet broke though a window pane and whizzed just over her head, actually brushing the very top of her bunned hair, before it traversed through the hall and buried itself into the polished oak frame of the open double-doors that led into the reception area.

      “Mitsuru! Close the curtains and be careful! Everyone else, keep down!” Jennifer shouted as she crawled for cover, the telephone still in her hands.

      Surprisingly quick for his age, the Japanese man went to one side of the window, then pulled the cords that released the curtains from their perch atop it. At once, the room grew dark as the heavy fabric hid the sun's rays from view – and hid themselves from the view of the sniper.

      “Hello! Operator!” Jennifer said into the phone. “Forget tracing that call! Send the police to Masterson Manor, 1900 Lincoln Avenue West! Shots fired!!”

 

*****

Round 2 – Preliminary Questions from the Hero Player

 

Were Danny's injuries very serious? (Somewhat Likely) – No

Hurrah! Good for him! Did the police find any clues to work from inside the Manor? (50/50) – No

Were they able to find and/or capture the shooter? (Very Unlikely) – Yes

Wow! That's a lucky break for them! We'll see what happens with that....

Was Inspector Gunderson, Shadowvixen's nemesis, in charge of the investigation? (50/50) – No

Was Detective Simon Case, her 'friend on the force', in charge? (50/50) – No

Given Miss Sherwood's status, did a senior police official show up? (Likely) – No

They must have simply given the case over to the senior station detective on shift, then.

Was he communicative with Jennifer about what his men found? (50/50) – No

Finally, did the operator manage to trace the call's origins? (No Way) – Yes

Wow! Another lucky break! Where did it come from? (Complex) – Care / Anger

Interpretation: Interesting...sounds like it's some sort of sanitarium or asylum!

 

Okay, I think we've got enough to go on. Let's get the story back underway!

 

ROUND TWO

 

Masterson Manor – 7:30 PM

 

      Jennifer Sherwood looked upon the shambles that was now the reception hall of her home, dimly lit by the interior lighting of the central staircase area upon which it adjoined. The hall had been cordoned off by the police, who'd spent a good three hours poring over every inch of the crime scene; they'd only just left. If they had found anything, they hadn't told her, nor anyone else in the manor. Indeed, the officer in charge – a Detective Franklin – had been almost impolitely brusque, and had ordered her and everyone else on the premises into the kitchen for questioning. All except poor Danny, who'd gone to the hospital with injuries that were thankfully more superficial than they’d at first appeared.

      The questions had been short and to the point – and tinged with more than a hint of suspicion on Detective Franklin's part. He obviously thought this was some sort of scheme to garner publicity and sympathy for the proposed convention of progressives, once Jennifer had told him about it. Finally the questioning came to an end, leaving the denizens of the manor with little to do but look on as the policemen went about their work of dusting for fingerprints, taking photographs, and examining the damage for clues. And through it all, not saying a word to the woman who'd nearly been killed twice that afternoon.

      Well, Jennifer thought to herself, if I can't get any information from them, perhaps Shadowvixen can! And at least she has a couple of leads to work with....

      Mitsuru came downstairs and moved to join his protégé at her left shoulder. “Rani has put poor Mary to an early bedtime; the cleaning can wait until morning, she says. And both Adam and Samuel said they would be at the hospital to make sure Daniel is going to be all right.” He looked at Jennifer inquiringly. “Will you be going out tonight, then?”

      The heiress nodded grimly. “Yes, Mitsuru. I have two clues to follow up on, and the sooner, the better – for Jennifer Sherwood's sake.”

      “What are they? The police seemed to not find anything.”

      “I don't know if they did or not; but since they weren't willing to communicate their findings, I decided I might as well keep mine to myself,” Jennifer said smugly. “For starters, I found a food stain on the back of the card. Detective Franklin might think it unimportant, but I managed to identify it as a rare variation of Hungarian goulash – suggesting our villain, or at least one of his henchmen, is from that community in our city.”

      “Hmm,” Mitsuru mused. “An interesting deduction.”

      “Thank you. And here's something even more interesting: the telephone operator managed to trace where that menacing phone call originated from. You'll never guess where,” she told him slyly.

      “Please do not jest with me, Jennifer,” her mentor said wearily. “It has been a long day.”

      “Sorry, Mitsuru,” she apologized. “But if you can believe it, it came from the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium!”

      The older Issei looked at her disbelievingly. “From an insane asylum? I hope it wasn't one of the inmates!”

      “So do I,” she agreed. “But there's only one way to find out, is there?” She kissed him on the cheek. “I'm headed for the Vixen's Den to change. Tell Rani I'll be out for the evening, and that I probably won't be back until very late. I have a feeling Shadowvixen is going to have a long night ahead of her!”

----------

      An hour later, after it had grown totally dark, an equally dark-garbed figure emerged from a secret and undetectable exit many blocks from Masterson Manor. Shadowvixen, the City's notorious female vigilante, was on the prowl! Her first stop – the Hungarian Quarter, to find the person connected to the threatening note that had started this day of terror.

 

 

ROUND TWO TABLEAU:  2S, 9C, 1S, 3H, 6S

 

(the Hungarian Quarter is a Spontaneous Location; all conflict list entries to be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 2, Turn 1

Access 2S – Locale, Deliberate / Refuse / Extravagance (Low Impact)

Interpretation: Shadowvixen's destination is a run-down restaurant that attracts “the wrong crowd”.

 

Are there any criminals there known to Shadowvixen? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Oh, she knows the person, all right! It's someone she's tangled with before, several times!

Is it a man? (Likely) – No

Ooohh, a female antagonist! What kind of criminal is she? (Complex) – Carelessness / Intrigues

Interpretation: Aha! She's a blackmailer; someone who pays for unsecured secrets of the well-to-do. Akin to the infamous Charles Augustus Milverton, from the Sherlock Holmes story of the same name. That would make her an interesting recurring character! I'll make a note of that...

 

      It was called Ház ízű Gulyás – “House of Goulash”, roughly translated – and the ramshackle eatery was as noted for its spicy, exotic cuisine as it was for the rough clientele it served. Criminals and shady characters of all sorts in the expatriate Eastern European community came here for food, for company, and to exchange stories and conduct business in what they considered a safe environment. It certainly wasn't a place that expected or welcomed outsiders.

      Which made it a rather startling development when a beautiful young woman, hooded and cloaked, with a black fox's mask over a face framed by wavy, shoulder-length honey-blonde hair, entered the premises and looked over those assembled with piercing blue eyes. They turned to look at her with a mixture of surprised shock and suspicious tension – except for one other woman, attractive and raven-haired, who had a number of strong men standing about her as she sat at a central table. She saw the newcomer and swore in Slavic.

      “Shadowvixen,” the woman addressed the heroine in scowling, accented English. “Is there no getting away from you?” With that, she snapped her fingers, and the men about her began to move menacingly towards the daredevil damsel....

Hero – Round 2, Turn 1

Access 2S, use 1S, 6S – Utility Belt: Smoke Pellets, can temporarily obscure vision in an area. (High Impact)

 

      Shadowvixen waited patiently until the half-dozen Hungarian goons were five feet from her and grouped together. Then, faster than they could follow, her hands flung several grayish-looking pellets right at their feet.

      Instantly, a cloud of thick smoke enveloped them, the heroine, and much of the front of the eatery. A furious coughing was heard at first...then the sound of fists and feet hammering against flesh and bone with savage, efficient blows. Some patrons headed for the rear exits; the rest, including the dark-haired beauty who'd started this, watched, unsure, until the smoke finally cleared...

      ...leaving six strong men lying on the floor, unconscious, while the slender, curvaceous woman in the black mask stood triumphant – with two semiautomatic pistols in her hands, leveled right at her female adversary.

      “That really wasn't very nice, Natalya,” Shadowvixen calmly told her. “Now, shall we talk for a bit? In private?” And, just to emphasize that last point, the vigilantess pulled back the hammers of her matched Colts.

 

 

World – Round 2, Turn 2

Access 9C – Locale, Deliberate / Postpone / Magic (High Impact)

Interpretation: Natalya triggers something “magical” to prevent her having to talk to Shadowvixen.

 

Is this real magic? (Impossible; such is very uncommon in Shadowvixen's world.) – No

Sounds like it might be a trap door under the heroine's feet. Is it? (Likely) – Yes

Is there anything dangerous under the door? (Likely) – No

Okay, that's good for Our Heroine; but that doesn't sound like a High Impact scene to me – unless she's going to be trapped down there, with no way out!

 

      “Oh, my dear girl,” the Slavic femme fatale suavely said with a pat of her hair, “must you always make your demands so forcefully?”

      Unknown to Shadowvixen, the hair-pat was a signal to the owner of the eatery to pull a certain handle on a certain keg of ale, turning it opposite of its normal direction.

      At once, a trap door opened right beneath the heroine's feet! Down she plunged some fifteen feet to the dirt-floored bottom, while the trap door swung back open and locked tightly. Putting out a gloved hand against one wall as she got up from her fall, she felt that it was absolutely smooth and sheer, offering nothing to use as handholds or footholds. Taking out her miniature flashlight, she saw the iron-clad door far above was equally smooth; nothing for her grapnel to latch onto! She couldn't climb out – she was trapped!

      As she listened, Shadowvixen could hear many voices laughing at her mockingly, led by Natalya Sergeyeva Lelyushenko, the most infamous blackmailer in the entire City.

 

 

Hero – Round 2, Turn 2

Access 1S, use 2S, 6S – Ally in Spades: a genuine Hero comes to Shadowvixen's aid! (High Impact)

 

What kind of Hero is this person? (roll 1d4) – 3; a disgraced Hero, seeking redemption.

Does this Hero have any Affiliation? (50/50) – No

Is the Hero a man? (Very Likely, given the societal environment; Heroines are uncommon) – No

It's a woman, after all! Hmm, I wonder....

Was she an inspiration for Shadowvixen? (50/50) – Exceptional Yes! (07)

Wow! Not only an inspiration, she's her role model – someone she really admires (or once admired)!

 

What caused her disgrace? (Complex) – Procrastinate / The Innocent

Interpretation: A moment of hesitation or delay by the Hero caused innocent people to be hurt/killed.

Was a Villain to blame for this event? (50/50) – Yes

Was the Villain the infamous Dr. Xavier Matthews? (Unlikely) – No

Is the Villain the person Vaughn has hired to eliminate Jennifer Sherwood? (Very Unlikely) – No

Okay, we'll leave his/her identity undetermined for now, but it sounds like a neat thread to explore in a future game! I'll make a note of it for later....

 

Does Shadowvixen still think of the disgraced Heroine in a positive way? (Likely) – Yes

 

So, a Heroine in Spades, eh? Let's define her a little more. Semi-Random Hero Creation Time!

 

Will the Heroine have more than the standard 5 Hero Points? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

How many more will she have? (roll 1d5) – 2 (meaning two points in Heroic Disadvantages, too)

Okay, I'm going to shuffle a Deep Deck and deal ten cards until I get at least three Spades in a single draw. I'll then discard three non-Spades, one from each other Suit, to get down to seven. Here goes!

 

QS, 10S, 5C, QD, 8S, 9S, 6D, 5H, 1H, 1H

 

Hmm...let me adjust things here. I'll use the QS as her SFX card, and toss out a 1H and the 5C. That leaves me with Spades [3], Diamonds [2], and Hearts [2] to go with a single 2-point Disadvantage.

 

Okay, what was/is the disgraced Heroine's theme? (Complex) – Abuse / Adversities

Interpretation: Sounds like she was an enemy of the drug traffickers. That works for me!

 

Finally, let's give her a decent code-name. Choosing one from that great site of RPG random generators, Seventh Sanctum, she is revealed to be:

 

THE JADE ROSE, a disgraced Heroine

 

      The City's first masked female crimefighter, The Jade Rose enjoyed a brief career as a mysterious opponent of the underworld drug trade in the first years of the century. Armed with a pair of short swords, she cut a bloody swathe through the most ruthless of the Oriental tongs. In 1908, however, her nemesis used a recently-discovered phobia of the heroine's to cause her to freeze up in a moment of crisis. As a result, several innocent bystanders were injured, and two killed. Her already notorious public reputation was thus totally ruined...as was her own self-confidence. The Jade Rose disappeared altogether, with no one ever knowing who she really was. Now, after a seven-year absence, she has returned in an attempt to redeem herself in the eyes of the one person that matters the most – the jade-green eyes that she sees in her mirror every night.

 

Suit Abilities

Spades [3] – Sword Dancer; can fight using two swords with grace, flourish, and effectiveness.

Diamonds [2] – Detective; can find clues and use them to make deductions.

Hearts [2] – Danger Sense; can tell when peril is close at hand, and is rarely caught off-guard.

 

Special FX

Queen of Spades – Unstoppable Sword Blow; can get her blade past any defense to strike a vital area.

 

Heroine's Disadvantage

Hearts [2] – Public Disgrace; must always live down the event that ruined her heroic reputation.

----------

      Then, in the midst of their laughter came a hideous scream from the rear alley outside! The owner rushed to the back door and opened it, just as a man holding his bleeding torso with both arms entered and collapsed. With his dying breath, he gasped in Hungarian, “A jade rózsa!”

      The owner's face scrunched up in confusion...then something inside of him told him to look up.

      There, illuminated by the light spilling from the eatery, was a slender, dark-haired woman in a green Chinese dress with red rose patterns on it, matching slippers upon her feet, and piercing jade-green eyes looking out from behind a rose-red mask. And in each of her hands was a so-called “butterfly sword” – a deadly tool when wielded by a master.

      Her lethal image was the last thing he ever saw.

----------

      As Shadowvixen desperately pondered her problem, she suddenly heard screams of sheer terror and wild gunfire above her head! A stampede of feet trampled across the solidly-locked trap door, seeking to flee the building for who knew what reason? For roughly forty seconds, absolute pandemonium reigned overhead; then, at last, an eerie silence took hold that, in its way, was more unnerving than what she'd heard before.

      Suddenly, the trap door swung open, and an unfamiliar woman's voice called to her in an Oriental accent. “You have a line?”

      “Yes!” Shadowvixen answered, getting out her grapnel. “What happened?”

      “I did,” the woman replied serenely. “Please to toss up your rope; I will pull you up. Quickly, now!”

      The City's distaff vigilante did so, and within a minute, she was again inside the Hungarian eatery – which was now much different in appearance than before. Tables and chairs were overturned, food was everywhere, and perhaps fifteen bodies, counting the ones she'd felled earlier, were strewn about the floor. Most were simply unconscious...but not all of them.

      But that wasn't what captivated Shadowvixen's attention. Rather, it was the woman who'd pulled her from her prison, and perhaps saved her life just now. Despite the mask and her Chinese features, it was clear she was some ten years older than the heroine, very slightly shorter, and less curvacious – but no less lovely, and certainly as lethal. And, unfamiliar as she may have been to the restaurant's Slavic denizens, Shadowvixen had no trouble at all recognizing her savior. For the mystery woman before her had been one of the main inspirations for Jennifer Sherwood putting on a mask in the first place.

      “I don't believe it!” she whispered in awe. “The Jade Rose!”

      “At your service, young Shadowvixen,” the other masked woman said with a knowing grin. “Now, let us depart! My entrance will soon bring much attention from many people – none of whom will be willing to treat us kindly!”

 

 

World – Round 2, Turn 3

Access 6S – Thing, Abstract / Haggle / Dispute (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: A symbol catches Shadowvixen's attention, indicating Natalya wants to talk after all – on her terms, though.

 

What's the symbol of? An animal? (50/50) – Yes

What kind of animal? A bird? (50/50) – Yes

Natalya is described as being 'raven-haired' – let's make it a raven's feather!

      Shadowvixen nodded mutely, star-struck at meeting a long-ago idol of hers, and prepared to follow The Jade Rose out of the vacant restaurant. But as they started to leave and passed Natalya's table, something caught the younger vigilante's eye. It was a raven's feather – something that might have gone totally unnoticed or overlooked. To the disguised heiress, however, it stood out like a sore thumb. Picking it up, she commented to The Jade Rose, “Looks like you scared Natalya into wanting to chat. This is her signal that she wants to talk, privately.”

      “How do you know that?” the Oriental woman turned to her with a questioning look.

      “She and I have a bit of a history, and I've learned how to read her feather code,” Shadowvixen replied. “See the three identical empty spaces? That's the troika signal, the Russian word for 'three of a kind'. In this case, it refers to the courtyard of the Orthodox Church of the Holy Trinity – a favorite negotiating spot for her. Apparently, she's willing to meet me now, on ground of her choosing.”

      “Very well. Now, let us leave, and quickly!” said The Jade Rose.

      And they did. By the time the crowd returned with armed reinforcements, the two masked ladies were long gone....

 

 

Hero – Round 2, Turn 3

Access 3H – Shadowvixen, Character Assumption: Her status as The City's resident female vigilante enables Shadowvixen to get The Jade Rose to open up about why she has returned. (Low Impact)

 

      “How on earth did you know I was in trouble back there?” Shadowvixen asked The Jade Rose as the two moved swiftly and quietly along the rooftops of the City's immigrant wards.

      “I did not at first, to be honest,” the Oriental vigilantess replied. “I was there to track down a new supplier of Turkish opium using a Hungarian contact. It was coincidence – or if you prefer, the dao of Fate – that led me to that place just as you caused some to flee it, shouting something about a 'black fox woman'. That could only have been you! And since I heard scornful laughter inside, I came to the conclusion you might need some assistance,” she finished with a gently chiding look back at the younger crimefighter.

      Shadowvixen ruefully nodded. “I certainly did. That ought to teach me not to be so overconfident!”

      The Jade Rose smiled back. “I know – but it will not. Believe me, that is not only my own experience talking. As Chinese proverb says: 'Wisdom is like good wine; both improve with age.' ”

      “Who made up that one?” the dark-clad damsel asked. “Confucius?”

      “No,” said the green-garbed swordswoman. “I did, just now!”

      Both ladies laughed at the joke as they leaped across ten feet of empty space above a narrow street from one rooftop to the next, then Shadowvixen said, “I always admired you, you know. In fact, you inspired me to don a mask myself. But you disappeared years ago. Where have you been all this time? And why have you come back?”

      The Jade Rose paused, catching her breath and gathering her thoughts as the two looked out upon this part of the City from atop one of its poorer districts – a place both strange yet familiar to these two.

      “If you know so much of my career, Shadowvixen,” the Chinese woman said with a sigh, “then you must know how it ended – in shame. A moment's hesitation...a paralyzing fear...and too many of those I had wanted to protect came to grievous harm, because of me. I...lost myself,” she continued haltingly. “My confidence...my belief that I was doing the right thing. It wasn't so much that the public turned against me – which they did – as much as the person beneath this mask turned against The Jade Rose.”

      She turned to face the blonde-haired girl who'd succeeded her as one of the City's guardians. “The worst thing that can happen to someone like us is to doubt what we are doing, and why. That is what happened to me; and it is why I vanished from the City. I...had to find myself again, you see. To once again discover the true reason for putting on this mask in the first place – and the confidence to put it back on again, and face down my demons for good.”

      “Seven years,” Shadowvixen commented. “That's a long time to go looking for someone.” Then she smiled. “I'm glad you finally found her. I thought for sure you’d given up the fight.”

      The Jade Rose returned the smile, though wanly. “I nearly did – more than once. It took a long time indeed, and I had to travel twice around the world, in many names and disguises, before I finally found myself again.” She turned to look back over her shoulder across the vista of the City's skyline. “Now, it is time I let others find me again, too. Tonight is a new beginning – with hopefully a better ending.”

      “If there's ever anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask,” Shadowvixen told her. “I was more disappointed that you seemingly gave up after that incident, rather than with what you did or didn't do. But I never thought you deserved all the awful things that were said and printed about you!” She put a hand upon her idol's shoulder, as one crimefighter to another. “Don't ever think any more that you're alone in this fight. You'll always have at least one person on your side,” the black vixen told the green rose.

      The older woman smiled and put her bare hand upon the younger lady's gloved one. “Thank you, Shadowvixen,” she said gratefully. “Now then, let us press on! We must not keep this informant of yours waiting! And as we go, please to tell me why you need to speak with her....”

 

 

(The Location now shifts to the courtyard of the Orthodox Church of the Holy Trinity, which is a new Spontaneous Location; all conflict list entries will be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 2, Turn 4

Access 3H – Thing, Abstract / Develop / Opulence (Low Impact)

Interpretation: A signal indicates that the meeting with Natalya will take place in an ornate outdoor prayer chapel being constructed at the church.

 

Is it another feather symbol? (Likely) – Exceptional No!

Hmm, I guess Natalya doesn't like to use the same method twice.

Is it some other animal symbol? (Likely) – Yes

Given Shadowvixen's code name, is it a fox? (Likely) – Yes

One of Shadowvixen's trademark “ego signatures”, perhaps? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

 

      As the night deepened, the two heroines found themselves at the Church of the Holy Trinity, belonging to the City's Russian Orthodox faithful. In its courtyard, a small but elegant outdoor prayer gazebo was in the process of being built. Drawn to it, they soon something to indicate this was the right place: a white poker chip with the black silhouette of a fox's head on both sides.

      Shadowvixen picked up her trademark ‘calling card’ from the foundation of the gazebo. “I'd say this marks the spot. But where's Natalya, I wonder?”

      The Jade Rose looked about uneasily. “I do not know – but given how she treated you earlier, I would recommend being on your guard.”

 

Is Natalya actually here? (50/50) – Yes

Is she alone? (Unlikely) – No

Figured as much! Will her goons stage an ambush? (Somewhat Likely) – Exceptional No!

So they're just bodyguards for her protection. Makes sense, given what happened earlier.

 

 

      “Ah, you have little faith in your fellow woman, I see,” came a sultry Slavic voice from the gloom. Both heroines turned to see Natalya emerge from the darkness with several other men about her. Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose braced for battle, but the elegant blackmailer dismissed their tension with a wave of her hand. “You needn't fear any ambush, ladies. I am not so blasphemous as to stage an attack in a holy place like this. These gentlemen are simply for my protection against you doing anything rash, that is all.” She found herself a place to sit, crossing her legs sedately. “Now, Shadowvixen, you said you wanted to talk privately with me. I would prefer not to talk to you at all, but that seems to be an impossible wish,” she sighed regretfully. “So...what is it you want to say?”

 

 

Hero – Round 2, Turn 4

 

Access 9C – Shadowvixen: Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      “It's about an attack earlier today on Jennifer Sherwood, the publishing heiress,” Shadowvixen said, giving absolutely no indication that she herself was the heiress in question. “After hearing of it, I dropped by her home after dark to offer my help. A threatening note left at the scene suggested a Hungarian had either written it, or at least left it behind, along with a blood-drenched bit of carved marble. You know, or know about, much of the East European criminal brood here in the City, Natalya,” she gently accused the blackmailer. “I'm prepared to pay a reasonable price if you can tell me exactly who this person was – and twice that amount if you can also tell me who he's working for.”

      “A 'reasonable fee,' you say?” Natalya echoed. “I assume two hundred dollars isn't too much, then?”

      “According to Miss Sherwood, who provided me with the banknotes – no.” She gave the Russian woman a confident, cordial smile. “I know we've had our share of confrontations in the past, including tonight. But for once, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. What can you tell me, Natalya?”

 

 

World – Round 2, Turn 5

Access 1S – Being, Aggressive / Struggle / Riches (Low Impact)

Interpretation: Natalya decides to try to aggressively jack up the price for her information.

 

Does she, in fact, have the knowledge Shadowvixen wants? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

Can she offer proof that she knows this information? (50/50) – Yes

Does she know of the connection to the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium? (Unlikely) – No

Does she know of any connection to Mayor Vaughn? (No Way) – No

 

      “Well, as it turns out, I do have the information you seek,” the Slavic woman declared smoothly. “But it is so confidential, and so dangerous to share, that I fear that a mere two hundred dollars isn't enough to induce me to part with it.”

      “How much, Natalya?” Shadowvixen asked with a resigned sigh.

      “One thousand dollars, my dear vixen,” she replied. “Cash only, please.”

      The Jade Rose, silent up to this point, turned to her younger companion. “This is a waste of time! I am sure we can discover the information ourselves.”

      “I'm sure you can,” Natalya told her, “but can you afford to waste even more time in the effort? I, too, have heard something of what Miss Sherwood went through today, you see. And judging by what I heard, it seems that time is something neither she – nor you – may have much of, if you wish to save her life.”

      “But how can we know you are telling the truth, and not just a crafty lie?” retorted the Oriental vigilante in challenge.

      The City's most notorious blackmailer reached into her purse and withdrew a handwritten note. “You say you have seen the threat made against Miss Sherwood, correct?” she asked Shadowvixen, who nodded affirmatively. “In that case, look at this bit of paper,” she said, offering it to the cloaked crusader.

      Shadowvixen took the paper and examined it. It was in Hungarian, which she couldn't really read beyond a few words. But it wasn't the words that caught her attention – it was the handwriting. It was exactly the same as that on the threatening card left upon the bust of Marie Antoinette back at Masterson Manor.

      She looked at Natalya Sergeyeva Lelyushenko. “You know for certain who wrote this?”

      Natalya nodded serenely, with a gentle smile.

      “And who he is working for?”

      Another nod. “And for a thousand dollars, you can have both names, dear. The question is, do you want to pay my price – or not?”

 

 

Hero – Round 2, Turn 5

Access 6S, Use 1S, 2S – Shadowvixen, Utility Belt: Flash Pellets; can temporarily blind an opponent (High Impact)

 

      Shadowvixen carefully folded the paper, thinking hard. Then, looking over at The Jade Rose, she finally shrugged her shoulders, and reached for her utility belt.

      “Ah, ah!” Natalya cautioned. “No tricks from you, Shadowvixen!” Her bodyguards tensed up, and began reaching for their guns.

      “Please, Natalya,” the distaff detective assured her. “All I'm doing is getting out Miss Sherwood's bankroll. I promise, I'll move my hands slowly so you can watch carefully the whole time.”

      Indeed, as the vigilantess promised, her black-gloved right hand moved slowly and carefully to withdraw a rolled-up wad of greenbacks wrapped by an elastic band. Both the Russian blackmailer and her guards had their eyes squarely focused on the significant wealth in Shadowvixen's hand.

      Which meant they had fallen for the classic misdirection play, leaving them totally unprepared for the moment when The Jade Rose tossed the handful of flash pellets Shadowvixen had given her prior to arriving here.

      A sudden flash of brilliant light and a concussive shock burst among Natalya and her men, stunning them into ineffectiveness. The two heroines, prepared for the surprise attack and unaffected by it, moved in swiftly.

      When the half-dozen bodyguards regained consciousness some minutes later, both their mistress and the women she was negotiating with were gone.

----------

      “Do you think she'll be all right up there?” Shadowvixen asked her new ally and long-time idol.

      “I think so,” The Jade Rose replied. “I will make sure to let the police know where to find her.”

      “Thanks,” the younger vigilante said. “I'd do it myself, but I'm pressed a bit for time. Based on what Natalya told me, there's more to this case than I'd ever imagined, and there's still a lot of ground to cover tonight!”

      “I understand,” her older counterpart assured her. “Be careful, Shadowvixen. I would come with you, but I still need to follow up on my own case. It was fortunate that Miss Natalya had information I could use, as well. I found her asking price to be very reasonable, too,” she added mischeviously.

      “Well, I suppose that can happen when you leave her hanging from a perch ten stories in the air,” Shadowvixen commented innocently....

 

 

Okay, let's see who Natalya has pinned as the culprit behind the attack on Jennifer Sherwood....

 

First of all, was she telling the truth? (A Near Sure Thing, given the circumstances) – Yes

Good! The caller had a distinct accent; is he East European, too? (Very Likely) – Yes

Where is East Europe is he from? Russia? (50/50) – No

How about Hungary? After all, there seems to be a connection there. (Likely) – Yes

Does this Hungarian villain hired by Mayor Vaughn have an American criminal record? (50/50) – Yes

Has he done these kinds of attacks before? (Very Likely) – Yes

Has he committed such crimes in the City before? (50/50) – Yes

Was he caught? (Unlikely) – Yes; Was he convicted? (A Sure Thing) – Yes

Hmm...he was calling from a sanitarium, though. Was he declared insane? (Very Likely) – Yes

 

So, he's almost certainly an inmate there, serving out his sentence. Yet, Natalya didn't know of any connection with the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium! What's going on here?

 

I guess it's time Shadowvixen found out!

 

* * * * *

 

ROUND THREE

 

Outside the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium for the Criminally Insane – Midnight

 

      Above a bend in the river running through the northwestern part of the City, surrounded by majestic oak trees more than two centuries old, was the former estate of one of the metropolis' founding families. Built in the late 1690s, the Shaded Oaks had housed the Wainwright clan for over one hundred and seventy years. Patriots, statesmen, and noted physicians who had been instrumental in the City's early history, the Wainwrights had led it from humble beginnings to the brink of metropolitan growth and prosperity. Alas, the clan died out finally, as Benjamin Wainwright III saw all four of his sons perish during the Civil War, and his only daughter died from a cholera epidemic in 1868. With no heirs, he tended to his consumption-riddled wife in her final years until she passed away, leaving him with an ancestral estate...and no one to inherit it.

      Upon his own death in 1879, then, he willed that the Shaded Oaks become a sanitarium, held and operated in trust by the City, for the purpose of caring for the invalid and diseased among the City's war veterans. For the next twenty years, the former home thus operated as a hospital, until a combination of generational change and a rise in violent, senseless crime caused the state government to change its role yet again. As a result of the Deranged Criminals Incarceration and Treatment Act of 1900, three new asylums for the criminally insane were established – and the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium was chosen to be one of those institutions.

      Now, what had once been considered a historical landmark for the City's residents had become a place of dread to be avoided, unless one absolutely had no choice. Which pretty much summed up a certain masked crusader's feelings on the matter as she looked upon the dark-windowed house from a perch amid the oak trees.

      “Not a very inviting place,” Shadowvixen muttered to herself nervously. Which was only speaking the truth, for inside that building were housed two dozen of the most notorious and dangerous criminals in the entire state – two of whom she had put there personally, in fact. Their status fully warranted the twelve-foot-high stone wall topped with barbed spikes, and the bars across all of the bedroom windows. Bedrooms that had now become cells to house the deranged inmates sentenced to live here until their time of incarceration ended, or they were cured of their madness...or died in the meantime.

      I really, really don't want to be here! Shadowvixen thought anxiously. But if I'm to find out just what's going on behind the attacks on Jennifer Sherwood, then I've no choice but to go inside. Someone there phoned the threat to her, and if I have to go into the devil's den to discover the truth, so be it!

      So, steeling her resolve, the City's daredevil damsel slipped out of the trees and moved forward to sneak inside the menacing ediface....

 

 

ROUND THREE TABLEAU:  4D, 10D, 4C, 1H, 6H

 

(the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium is a Recurring Location in Shadowvixen's campaign; entries #3, 6, 9 and 10 will be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 3, Turn 1

Access 1H – a CUSTODIAN is encountered (Low Impact); activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Second-Class Citizen (Low Impact); use 4D to also activate her Disadvantage: Hunted (Low Impact)

 

Question: Does the Hunted Disadvantage mean Inspector Gunderson is actually here? (Unlikely) – No

 

      A tired, graying man in a dirty custodial uniform tossed the the day's trash into the facility's incinerator, located in a small clearing outside the house. He wiped sweat and grime from his brow with a sleeve, then froze as he heard a twig snap behind him. Turning around, his eyes boggled and he opened his mouth to scream – only to have a slender yet firm hand cover his mouth as a husky woman's voice hushed at him.

      “Don't yell!” said the female in the black fox's mask. “Do you know who I am?”

      The man nodded silently, staring at her over her gloved hand.

      “I need your help,” Shadowvixen told him quietly. “I'm going to remove my hand now. Please don't scream; it won't be pleasant for you if you do. All right?” The middle-aged janitor nodded, and she took her hand away from his mouth.

      “Whadda you want, vigilante?” he asked her in a scathing tone. “Come to turn yerself in an' join all the other nutcases here?”

      Shadowvixen smirked a bit. “I can tell you read Inspector Gunderson's latest diatribe against me.”    “Yep, an' he's right!” the custodian told her. “This hour of the night, you should be in bed, givin' yer man his proper attention, instead of galavanting about in a weird getup like that!” he accused, giving her costume an unfavorable look. “A disgrace to yer sex, you are. Now, get outta here! Ol' Harry's got nothing to say to the likes of you.” And with that, he turned to finish his work.

 

 

Hero – Round 3, Turn 1

Access 6H, use 1H – Character Assumption: Given both the urgency of her mission and her own suffragist beliefs, Shadowvixen isn't going to react well to this, so she will lose her temper somewhat, turning to unsubtle tactics to get the information she needs. (Moderate Impact)

 

      Scarcely had Harry turned his back on the cloaked crusader than his right arm was grabbed and brutally twisted up behind his back! He took a breath to call for help – only to find the surprisingly strong fingers of Shadowvixen's leather-clad left hand about his neck, squeezing hard!

 

      “Normally, I'd let such remarks slide like water off a duck's back,” she cooed into Harry's ear. Then her voice turned harsh, and a dangerous light glittered in her sapphire eyes. “Unfortunately for you, I don't have time for politeness! One of the city's first citizens has been targeted for death, and narrowly escaped two murder attempts earlier today. And the information I have says the culprit behind those assaults is here, behind these walls!” She then spoke in a tone that conveyed both sweetness and menace alike. “I'm certain it's not a pleasant experience, working here. Imagine how much worse it's going to be, knowing one of your so-called 'inmates' is, in fact, free to work his evil!”

      Harry's face turned pale, and not just from a reduced amount of circulation to his head. “Wh–Who?” he croaked.

      “Ernö Balog,” she whispered in reply. “Also known as 'The Butcher from Buda'. Responsible for nine sensational murders between 1907 and 1911, each done in such horrific and melodramatic fashion as to make him the most reviled and wanted criminal in the country. Captured 1912, convicted of multiple counts of capital murder, but sentence commuted to permanent institutionalization when evidence convinced the appeals court that he was genuinely insane. Need I say more?”

      “But – but that's impossible!” Harry gasped weakly. “Balog's locked up all but a couple hours a day, when he gets exercise an' treatment. An' then, he's kept apart from other inmates and watched!”

      “Nevertheless,” Shadowvixen continued relentlessly, “somehow he's involved in today's events. A most indisputible source said a Hungarian named Gáspár was hired to sneak inside the estate of Miss Jennifer Sherwood, vandalize and sabotage the place, and leave a very threatening note. That man, it turned out, was hired by one Anasztáz Balog, brother of Ernö. And both of them, when I found them, said they were following the orders of the Butcher.”

      “But that's impossible, I tell ya!” Harry insisted again.

      “There are surprisingly few 'impossible' things in this world, sir,” Shadowvixen retorted, “only highly improbable ones. But which is true in this case, I can only find out by getting inside that house. So, do me the favor of letting me in, please. Or would you prefer I get the key from you the hard way?”

 

 

World – Round 3, Turn 2

Access 4D, use 4C – an ORDERLY appears; Physical Abilities – Strength; Metaphysical Abilities – Sedation; one of those who assists in keeping the inmates calm and/or secured. (High Impact)

 

Is it just one orderly? (50/50) – Exceptional No!

Uh oh...it's a LOT of them! Do they ambush Shadowvixen outside, as she's confronting Harry? (Let's call this Somewhat Likely) – Yes

 

      “No need for that,” came a deep menacing voice from behind the heroine!

      Releasing her hold on Harry, she whirled around – too late! Several strong men dressed in the white uniforms of orderlies took hold of her before she could defend herself, subduing her. Suddenly, a hot stabbing sensation shot through her bare upper right arm. Soon, a heavy drowsiness began to take hold, and Shadowvixen realized she'd been sedated! Unable to fight back, she felt herself being dragged away back towards the mansion, a shaken Harry looking on in a mixture of relief and trepidation.

      The last thing Shadowvixen saw before an enforced sleep took hold of her was the opening door leading to the interior of the sanitarium....

 

(Heroine's Status: Incapacitated)

 

How long will Shadowvixen be asleep? (roll 2d4 hours) – 3 hours

Will the Sanitarium contact the police? (No Way, not with the goings-on there!) – Exceptional No!

I figured as much. They're going to keep her presence there a deep, dark secret.

Where in the Sanitarium will Shadowvixen awaken? In a cell? (Very Likely) – Yes

I assume her weapons are gone? (A Sure Thing) – Yes

Has she been restrained in any way? (A Near Sure Thing) – Exceptional Yes!

Uh, oh...that result suggests Our Heroine has been placed in a perilous predicament! Has she? (Somewhat Likely; it's the pulps, after all) – Exceptional Yes!

Oh boy; it's not just a deathtrap, but an elaborate one!

 

So, what might it be? Borrowing from an article in Digital Hero #32 by Hero Games, there are basically five types of deathtraps: the Conveyor; the Chains; the Box; the Vat or Pit; and the Puzzle. If she's waking up inside a cell, neither the Conveyor nor the Vat/Pit options would seem to be in play. That leaves the remaining three types – hang on! An elaborate deathtrap? Is it a combination of all three types, perhaps? (Unlikely) – Yes

 

Wow! Okay, so let's set this up. “Box” indicates the Heroine is trapped in a container (already taken care of) into which will be introduced a deadly agent or mechanism. “Chains” indicates she is secured in place and an instrument of death is slowly approaching her. The Puzzle is a variation on any or all of the other traps, in which the escape/release is obvious but inaccessible, unless the Heroine can figure out the secret to tripping it! So let's see, how can we put it all together...?

 

      Down deep below the former mansion of the Wainwrights, there was a level where only the most forgotten of people were kept. In that place was a steel door, behind which was a small cell, no more than 10' x 10' in size. Inside that dimly-lit cell, propped two feet off the floor upon an iron bedframe, was a firm mattress. And atop that mattress, in a drugged sleep, lay the heroine called Shadowvixen.

      The vigilantess stirred, her limbs feeling heavy. Drowsy and disoriented from her sedation, her eyes clawed open and looked up at the ceiling above her, which was illuminated with faint light coming from small torches in the upper corners of the chamber. Brilliant blue eyes blearily took in the scene...before suddenly widening in horror as her waking mind caught up with what her senses reported.

      Ten feet above her, the entire ceiling was studded with slender, two-foot-long spikes, with no more than three inches separating them in any direction. And every one of them was pointed straight down at her prone form.

      Gasping in surprise and fear, she tried to get up – only to find herself fastened to the mattress with strong ropes. She lay spread-eagled upon her cloak, her gloved wrists and booted ankles tightly tied in place by cords that wrapped around the mattress both laterally and longitudinally; her utility belt and pistols were gone. She tried to move about, experimentally, only to discover she could barely shift her position at all.

      “I feel like Pearl White,” she muttered ruefully, referring to the starlet of The Perils of Pauline as she faced her own very real peril. She wondered when her captor would come and gloat over her, as they loved to do in the cheap adventure stories and chapter plays on film?

 

 

Hero – Round 3, Turn 2

Access 4D, use 10D – Detective (Moderate Impact)

 

      As it turned out, only two minutes later the steel door – one taken from a ship, with its circular wheel in the middle that engaged its secure, watertight latches – opened to reveal a sinister figure.

 

      He was large and powerful, standing six-foot-four, with broad shoulders and powerful arms crossed in front of his chest. Unkempt black hair with flecks of gray adorned his head, and a similar coloration marked his short sculpted beard and broad mustache. But it was his dark eyes that caught Shadowvixen's attention – eyes that drank in her helplessness with an almost feral look, tinged with a hint of madness. The heroine recognized him at once from her studies of him. “Ernö Balog,” she said simply.

      The sinister serial murderer smiled evilly and replied in the very voice that Jennifer Sherwood had heard over the phone only hours before. “Yes, Ernö Balog. And you are the one called 'Shadowvixen'. Mister Lucas told me about you.”

      “Ah, yes, Joseph Lucas. The lunatic who tried to bomb Vanderbilt Hall last year; one of my first cases,” the distressed crimefighter said, trying to affect an air of casual bravado. “I'm glad I made an impression on him.”

      “Indeed, as you have on others here – including me. Which is why I shall be most pleased to kill you tonight,” he admitted, casting his gaze over her helpless form once again as he rubbed his hands in satisfaction. His obvious interest in her bound figure made Shadowvixen most uncomfortable, and led her to a horrible suspicion.

      “I can tell you like what you see,” she said in disgust. “No doubt you took advantage of me while I was unconscious,” she went on to accuse him.

      Balog shook his head, however. “No, your honor is intact. There is little pleasure in such acts if the victim is not aware of them,” he explained. “Besides, my pleasure comes from seeing terror in others as they await inevitable death, not in...those other things.”

      “Given your reputation, I expected as much,” Shadowvixen retorted sourly, glancing back up at the spikes before returning her gaze to the evil Hungarian. “So, when did you take over the sanitarium to turn it into your own private headquarters of villainy?” she asked.

      Balog's eyebrows went up in surprise. “How did…?”

      The heroine made a dismissive sound. “How else could you have gotten messages out to your brother, much less make a personal call to Jennifer Sherwood to threaten her with murder? Don't look so shocked,” she remarked as his eyes widened at her accusations. “I haven't let the grass grow under my feet in my investigation, and it wasn't that difficult to figure out. You amassed quite a bit of money during your murder spree, none of which was ever recovered. It would have been easy for you to use those funds – smuggled in by your brother Anasztáz during visits, no doubt – to gradually win over the orderlies and other prisoners and take over the place for yourself. And so long as everything appeared normal during the all-too-infrequent inspections by the City or state authorities, what better hideout could you possibly have than this – an establishment few sane people would ever want to go near, much less inside?” she finished.

      “You are a smart one,” Balog admitted, impressed in spite of himself. “Yes, it happened just like that. The doctor tried to stop me, of course. But once I showed him what I would do to him, he agreed to cooperate.” He grinned. “It seems he cannot take the pain he inflicts on others in the name of 'treatment'.”

      “Few people can,” Shadowvixen told him honestly. “I'm surprised you didn't take the opportunity to do that to me, you sadist.”

      “I thought of it,” he told her. “But this is much better. I prepared it in case you or some other hero,” he said with a sneer, “ever visited to find out what was going on here. You came here because of what I had promised to do to Miss Sherwood. You are about to experience it!” Balog gloated.

      If only he knew he is about to do her in! Shadowvixen thought morosely.

 

 

 

World – Round 3, Turn 3

Access 4C, use 4D – See entry for Turn 2 above. (High Impact)

 

Does only one Orderly appear? (Since Balog's probably given instructions not to be disturbed, I'll call this Very Likely – probably only the bravest of them would risk his wrath at a time like this.) – Yes

 

Why has the Orderly come at this time? (Complex) – Oppress / Victory

Interpretation: It sounds like he's come to report they've just defeated and captured another intruder!

 

Another intruder? At this time of night?! Is it a genuine Hero? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

Is the Hero a man? (Very Likely) – No

What?! Is it The Jade Rose? (No Way, she said she had to follow up on her own case) – Yes

 

Uh, oh! There's a surprise! I guess TJR finished her task sooner than expected; and since she knew Shadowvixen was headed for the sanitarium, decided to drop by to see if she was all right – only to be set upon and captured, herself!

 

Let's see...was she caught by surprise? (Very Unlikely, given her Danger Sense) – No

Nope, there was a fight! Did TJR defeat any of her assailants before being captured? (Very Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: She defeated ALL of them! So, how was she captured? In a booby trap? (Very Likely; I can't think of any other way they'd have caught her.) – Yes

 

Well, can't win them all! Now, what will Balog do with her, given that she's left many of his men out of action? Will he have her share in Shadowvixen's torturous trap? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

 

      Just then, one of Balog's oppressive orderlies appeared at his shoulder. “Sorry for interrupting you, Balog, but – ”

      The heinous Hungarian spun around and savagely backhanded the man across the face, nearly knocking him out with the force of his blow. “You IDIOT! I said NOT to disturb me! For such disobedience, I should KILL you!” he shouted with fury.

      “But...but, sir,” the orderly gasped in a daze as he lay on the floor of the dungeon, “we...we've caught another...intruder.”

      Balog's anger disappeared as quickly as it had emerged, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Another one?!” He cast a quick glance back at the bound form of Shadowvixen, whose expression was as confused as his own. “Who is it?” he demanded.

      “Don't...know,” the white-uniformed man said slowly as he fully recovered his wits. “But she's...a demon. She...wiped out five of…our men who...tried to ambush her.”

      “SHE?” Balog exclaimed, and Shadowvixen's hopes rose. It couldn't be...?

      The orderly nodded weakly, slowly getting up from the floor. “Yeah,” he told his evil boss. “All of them, just like that. Then she...chased after me when she saw me. But,” he said with a weak grin, “she didn't see the tripwire across the entryway. Didn't take...three steps further before the dart felled her.”

      “Good. Very good, Jones,” the evil Magyar said to his underling with a satisfied grin. “If our men are taken care of, then bring her here, along with as many of our comrades as you can find.” He turned back to Shadowvixen and gave her a most malevolent look. “Since our new visitor did so much damage, she might as well have some company for her final moments on earth…”

----------

      Some thirty minutes later, The Jade Rose finally stirred to wakefulness. As her eyes opened, she found herself looking into the black-masked blue eyes of Shadowvixen lying beside her.

      “Hello there,” the younger heroine said to her more experienced ally with a wan smile.

      “Ugh,” the Oriental woman groaned as she closed her eyes, trying to reorient herself. Something wasn't quite right here. “Shadowvixen? Where…where are we?” she asked quietly.

      “In big trouble,” the cloaked crusader replied glumly. “What are you doing here?”

      “I…finished my work sooner than…expected,” The Jade Rose explained as she fought to recover from the tranquilizer. “I knew you would…be here, and I wanted to find out if…you had discovered what you needed to know. They...ambushed me soon after I entered the grounds. I made sure they would...regret that decision.” She smiled faintly, then closed her eyes as she tried to recall what happened next. “But then, I...I felt something hit me in the back, and…that is the last thing I remember.” She stirred and tried to move about, but felt constricted. “What sort of trouble are we in?”

      “Take a look,” Shadowvixen suggested ruefully.

      The Jade Rose opened her eyes again, and looked about her. Much was as it had been before when Shadowvixen had first regained consciousness, except now there were two heroines bound upon the mattress. The black-clad beauty had been released from her earlier restraints, only to be re-tied even more stringently. Her legs had been brought together and wound about with ropes from ankles to thighs; other cords closely encircled her torso, pinning her arms to her sides; and her gloved hands had been brought in front of her, crossed at the wrists, and very tightly bound together before being secured to ropes about her waist. The Jade Rose had been tied up in a very similar fashion; and finally, still more hemp fastened both women down to the mattress, their faces looking up towards the spikes embedded in the ceiling.

      And there, looking at them from the open hatchway, stood Ernö Balog and those of his henchmen who were still conscious, some of them sporting bruises, cuts, bloodied bandages, and black eyes.

      “Jade Rose,” Shadowvixen said, “allow me to introduce you to The Butcher of Buda, the most insane murderer of our time. He’s the man behind the attacks on Jennifer Sherwood…and the new master of the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium for the Criminally Insane.”

      “Good morning,” Balog greeted the red-masked woman in green silk with undisguised pleasure at her perilous plight. “Welcome to your death!” His fellow inmates and orderlies leered at the heroines with obvious delight, laughing at the melodramatic image before them.

      The Jade Rose frowned and looked over at her younger compatriot disapprovingly. “They have terrible bedside manners, do they not?” she remarked sourly.

 

 

Hero – Round 3, Turn 3

Access 4C – Shadowvixen, Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      Shadowvixen nodded in full agreement with the Chinese woman's sentiments, then turned to stare daggers into Balog’s eyes. “Spare us your gloating,” she growled at him. “Neither of us are going to plead for mercy when you’ve none to give. So just kill us and get it over with!” She wanted to make it clear that, though death stared her in the face, she would not display any fear. She knew from the start of her career as a crimefighter that such a fate might befall her, and was prepared to face the end, however it might come. The disguised Jennifer Sherwood lay back with a calm defiance, glaring at her persecutor.

      The Jade Rose, still clearing the cobwebs, sensed all this. How very Oriental of her, she thought.

 

 

World – Round 3, Turn 4

Access 10D – Being, Passive / Delay / Trials (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: Balog begins the deathtrap's slow, methodical process, as he explains it to the heroines.

 

      “As you wish,” Balog replied, and he and his men closed and bolted the hatch, sealing the female vigilantes inside the death chamber. He then went to a telephone receiver on the wall and picked it up to speak loudly into the mouthpiece. As he did, his voice echoed inside the cell from a speaker up in the ceiling, but it was still clear enough that the women could understand him.

      “Now, I will explain how you will die, ladies,” he hissed gleefully as he watched them through a small porthole in the hatch. He signaled to one of his henchmen to turn a valve wheel. A moment later, the sound of flowing liquid began to be heard through a large pipe bolted to the wall. Inside their cell, Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose could hear water rushing in and spreading underneath them, entering from a sluice gate near the floor.

      “Your mattress,” the murderous Magyar told them, “is so firm because it has been filled with air, plus a small amount of gas from the operating room. As a result, it will float upon the river water that is starting to fill your cell. As the room floods, the water will slowly lift you up off the platform until the spikes begin to spear you in a hundred places! An agonizing death, is it not?”

      “Tell me something I don't already know,” Shadowvixen remarked through gritted teeth as she struggled against her bonds, not caring if the fiend heard her or not.

      “Certainly!” Balog told her. “Look to your left.” As the two heroines did so, they saw another, somewhat higher-positioned sluice gate open up, and a new cascade of water came in. This time, however, it contained something extra – about three dozen fish that started swimming angrily about in the shallow pool that was steadily growing deeper by the second. The Jade Rose recognized them from her travels, and gulped.

      “Ancestors help us!” she breathed, and the woman who had no fear of taking on a dozen men at once in mortal combat turned frightened eyes towards her Occidental ally. “Piranha!” she told Shadowvixen, who immediately realized their peril had just become twice as deadly. Balog couldn't help but explain it in further detail, however.

      “Yes, they are piranha!” he confirmed with malevolent glee. “After all, it might be that you will get free of the ropes that bind you. But, how will you be able to save yourselves by opening this hatch, when the moment you dive in the water you will be eaten alive?” Balog laughed heartily at his ingenuity. “And when you die and my fish have stripped the meat from your bones, what is left of you will be burned in the incinerator, with no one to know what happened to either of you. Goodbye, Shadowvixen and Jade Rose! Neither of you should have come here. Soon, you will both be dead – and before long, Miss Jennifer Sherwood will join you in oblivion!” With that, he hung up the phone and looked into the cell through the small porthole in the steel hatch. Inside, he could see Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose straining uselessly against the ropes, desperately trying to save themselves from certain death, and he and his men took turns watching their hopeless struggle until at last the rising tide finally took them beyond their sight.

      Above the females' heaving breasts, there remained three feet – just thirty-six scant inches – before the pointed spikes would begin to penetrate their flesh….

 

 

Hero – Round 3, Turn 4

Access 10D, use 4D – Shadowvixen AND The Jade Rose, Detective (Moderate Impact); the two heroines collaborate on figuring out how escape their perilous predicament. (NOTE: This is normally a violation of the WvH rules, but the World Player will accept the premise on this occasion.)

 

      Shadowvixen had been keeping tabs on their progress upward related to the porthole. Once she was satisfied that Balog couldn't see them anymore, she turned to her captive comrade. “We're in the clear,” she told The Jade Rose in a whisper so their tormentor couldn't hear her. “They can't see what we're doing any longer.”

 

      “Which is not much, I fear,” her Oriental ally softly replied in disappointment. “I can neither break nor twist out of these ropes. Can you?”

      “No,” the fox-masked heroine answered. “That's why I had to wait until they were out of sight. If they'd been able to see what I'm doing, we'd have lost our only chance.”

      “What are you – ?” The Jade Rose started to ask, when, glancing down towards her feet, she noticed that Shadowvixen had removed a slender blade from inside her left glove and was beginning to quickly saw through the cords binding her wrists. Jade-green eyes met brilliant blue ones, and the younger vigilantess gave her role model a wink. “A little trick I learned from Mister Houdini a while back,” she explained.

      “Very handy,” The Jade Rose agreed, “provided that you can cut us free in time.” She gave a glance up towards the ceiling; the spikes were already two inches nearer, and all-too-uncomfortably close.

      A moment later, Shadowvixen's hands came free, and she began working on her other bonds as fast as possible. “I can,” she answered confidently. “Of course, the piranha are another problem altogether.”

      The Jade Rose grinned and shook her head. “Not for much longer.”

      Shadowvixen gave her a perplexed look as she cut through the ropes about her torso and affixing her upper body to the mattress. “What do you mean?” she asked quizzically.

      “That man Balog is clever with traps, but not so much with knowledge of fish,” the Chinese crimefightress explained. “I learned about piranha on my travels, and they come from waters that are very warm all the year. The river here is much colder, so how will fish respond?” she asked knowingly.

      The cloaked crusader finished cutting her upper body free with a chuckle of realization. “Of course! They'll be shocked into lethargy; by now, they're probably sinking to the bottom of the cell!” She quickly turned on her side to work on her partner's ropes.

      The Jade Rose nodded. “Yes; or at least, I hope they are!” she clarified. “We must not attempt to swim away until the very last moment, to give them the most time for the cold to affect them.”

      “That won't be a problem,” Shadowvixen remarked as she sawed away at the bonds immobilizing The Jade Rose. Looking up, there were now just twenty inches left between them and the spikes. “By the time I can get the rest of these ropes cut, we won't have that much time to spare....”

 

 

World – Round 3, Turn 5

Access 6H – Thing, Concrete / Inform / Enemies (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: Balog decides to give Our Heroines a final message before their deaths.

 

How will this present a challenge to Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose? (Complex) – Betray / Pleasures

Interpretation: He will tell them, in typical melodramatic fashion, of his plans for Jennifer Sherwood.

 

What does Balog have in mind for Jennifer? Is it the kidnap plot mentioned in the Adventure Premise? (Likely) – Exceptional Yes!

Interpretation: Oh boy, he gives them the full details! You know, overconfidence breeds failure, Ernö....

So, what horrible fate does he say will befall Jennifer? (roll 1d5) – 4, the Vat/Pit deathtrap

 

      Two minutes later, their persecutor chimed in through the phone link in the ceiling once more.

      “Only a very little time is left to you now, heroines,” he sneered. “And as you face your end, think of your failure to protect the precious Miss Jennifer Sherwood of the City Town Crier. On Monday morning, she will go to work as usual. Only this time, I will have my men surprise her car and ambush it, kidnapping her and bringing her to me! Imagine her now, dangling over a vat of acid, slowly being lowered until she is nothing but bleached bones!” He laughed evilly, both in anticipation of the future and at causing further distress and despair to the trapped women inside the cell. “Her screams of agony will be sweet – just as yours will be as I listen to them. Die now, and curse my name in vain!”

Hero – Round 3, Turn 5

Access 1H, use 6H – The Jade Rose, Danger Sense (Moderate Impact)

 

What triggers her Danger Sense? Is the ceiling starting to descend suddenly? (Very Unlikely) – No

Are the piranha still active? (Unlikely) – Exceptional No!

Ah, the fish have gone belly-up, as TJR predicted. That's good to know!

So what's causing her Danger Sense to go off? (Complex) – Failure / Tactics

Interpretation: Oh no! The heroines have overlooked one critical thing in their escape efforts....

 

      “I do curse you, Ernö Balog! And may you burn in Hell!” Shadowvixen shouted. Unknown to the villain, by this time she had cut herself totally loose. Rotating around carefully on the mattress, she hastily worked to free The Jade Rose's lower limbs while the other vigilantess worked off the ropes about her upper torso and the hemp fastening her to the deathbed. There was now less than a foot of space between them and the spikes, but they were going to make it! Even the piranha had started floating to the surface of the flooding chamber, lifeless (or soon to be) from the chilly river water, just as The Jade Rose had promised. Shadowvixen gave her ally and new friend a vicious smile as she mouthed, “Is he going to be surprised!”

      The Jade Rose began to do likewise, then a sudden anxious look came upon her features. When the cloaked crusader quirked her eyebrows questioningly, the Oriental heroine replied silently, moving her lips clearly so that Shadowvixen could understand:

      “Balog and his men are on the other side of the hatch! How do we escape when they can prevent us from turning the wheel to open it?!”

      Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose simultaneously exchanged horrified looks at the full realization of their oversight. Glancing up at the spikes literally in their faces, they knew they were out of time!

----------

      Moments later, Balog heard horrible female screams of pain and terror, and an ecstatic smile spread across his face. Very soon, the cries stopped, and he hung up the phone's earpiece.

      Inside the cell, the spikes penetrated the mattress itself, releasing a cascade of air and gas that rapidly deflated the cushion, around which floated several carnivorous fish that themselves became skewered upon the deadly points as the water steadily rose until it filled nearly all of the small chamber.

 

 

(Heroines' Status: Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose – Incapacitated)

 

* * * * *

ROUND FOUR

 

Inside a cell deep beneath the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium – 4:20 AM, Sunday, September 5, 1915

 

 

      Ernö Balog, 'The Butcher from Buda,' turned to his henchmen and fellow 'inmates' of the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium for the Criminally Insane. “So, our two beautiful enemies have died in beautiful fashion,” he told them with a sadistic and satisfied expression. “We will leave them for my fish to enjoy, while we rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

      “Balog,” one of them asked, “why are we doing this? We're sure to be caught, messing with a rich girl like Sherwood!”

      The murderous Magyar turned to the smaller man with a surprisingly tolerant smile. “For two reasons are we doing this, friend,” he patiently explained. “First, I – and you – are being paid very well to eliminate her. I will not tell you who our client is. I will only say that he can not only pay my handsome fee, he can also make certain no one will ever suspect us – if you will obey my orders.”

      “And the second reason is...?” the henchman orderly asked.

      Balog suddenly reached out and, grasping the man about the neck with his huge hands, lifted him off the floor with casual strength. “Second,” he growled, “you all are doing this because, if you do not, this is what I will do to you!” And with those words, he snapped the man's neck like it was a straw.

      Throwing the lifeless body to the floor, he turned to the others with a savage glare. “None of you forget this: Balog is master here!” he told them angrily. “Now, go about your duties! Let none suspect of what has happened here! And,” he finished, “take your foolish friend to the incinerator. Let his body be burned with the bones of the women before morning.” With that, he stomped off upstairs, while his underlings hastened to follow him, carrying their dead colleague with them. Very soon, all was empty and quiet in the underground dungeon that had once been a hiding place for Patriot spies during the Revolutionary War.

      Suddenly, the wheel in the steel hatch of the death chamber began to turn, slowly at first and then with increasing speed, as if obeying a desperate command for haste. A moment later, the hatch sprung open from the force of water pressure, and a cascade of cold river water poured out onto the floor! As it did, it carried with it the bodies of several dead piranha and two nearly-drowned human figures, one dressed all in black, the other in green. Laying upon the waterlogged floor of reasonably flat rock, they choked, spit up liquid from their lungs, and gasped for the sweet, delicious feeling of being able to breathe once more. After a couple of minutes, as the last of the floodwaters spilled about their soaked, chilled forms, Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose slowly gathered themselves and sat up.

      “That...” the younger heroine gasped with a choking cough, “...was too close!”

      “Indeed,” her older comrade-in-justice agreed as she drew several deep breaths. “A very good idea that was, to use the mattress as a shield against the spikes so we could earn ourselves a breathing space.”

      “Thanks,” Shadowvixen said, “though if you hadn't suggested screaming at the top of our lungs to mask our movements in the water, Balog would probably have suspected something. Since he and his men aren't here, I guess that means they think we're well and truly dead,” she remarked with a smirk.

      “We nearly were!” The Jade Rose told her. “I do not think I have ever held my breath longer.”

      “It's remarkable what one can do when pushed to the limit,” Shadowvixen remarked simply. “Now, shall we get out of here, before someone comes back to retrieve our skewered selves?”

      “Definitely!” said the Chinese crimefighter. “And if we happen to run into someone, I hope they will not mind if I take out my most intense frustrations out on them!”

 

 

 

ROUND FOUR TABLEAU:  6D, 8S, 4H, 9D, 2D

 

(the Shaded Oaks is a Recurring Location; entries #3, 6, 9, and 10 will be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 4, Turn 1

Access 9D – Locale, Incidental / Oppress / Trials (High Impact)

Interpretation: Something in the place presents a challenge that seeks to entrap Our Heroines.

 

Sounds like yet another booby trap. Is it? (Very Likely) – Yes

Is it another pitfall? (50/50) – Exceptional No!

Interpretation: The trap is not from below this time, but from above!

Is it a cage? (50/50) – Yes

Does it have an alarm on it? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

Does The Jade Rose's Danger Sense kick in to warn her? (Likely) – Yes

 

      As the two heroines ascended a stairway, wary of encountering enemies, Shadowvixen concentrated on watching the floor for those dastardly pitfalls while The Jade Rose behind her watched ahead and above. As they reached the top of the stairs and came out onto a smooth stone floor, they noticed a large circle of two-inch-round holes in it, which they could not avoid entering. Treading cautiously, their senses were heightened for any danger – and the swordswoman with the rose-red mask felt the damp hairs on the back of her neck rise as her left foot caused a particular stone in the floor to depress a half-inch. Looking up, she saw a large cage dropping down upon them from the darkness!

      “Look out!” The Jade Rose cried, trying to spring backwards even as she pushed Shadowvixen forward to try to evade the plunging peril....

 

Does The Jade Rose manage to avoid the cage? (Unlikely) – No

Does Shadowvixen evade the cage? (Unlikely) – No

 

      ...but too late! The cage slammed into the ground, and the reason for the many holes in the floor now became evident as the symmetrically spaced points about the cage's base filled those holes, locking the cage in place. And, worst of all, a series of bells up above began ringing – loudly!

      “Oh, wonderful,” Shadowvixen groaned as she grasped the iron bars of the cage and shook them futilely. “Talk about waking up the neighborhood!”

 

 

Hero – Round 4, Turn 1

Access 6D, use 9D, 2D – Shadowvixen, Detective (High Impact)

 

      Quickly, the cloaked crusader looked about for any way out – and saw one! The iron was badly rusted, for the cage had been in place for decades, and possibly even a century or more; apparently, this particular way out wasn't one that Balog and his associates used. In any event, it seemed that the bolts connecting the bars together had buckled and broken from the impact, which meant the two heroines might well be able to literally break out of their prison.

      Explaining her idea to The Jade Rose, Shadowvixen said, “Hurry! Help me with these bars!” Together, the ladies pulled and pushed with all their strength, prying the bolts and even breaking the most badly rusted of them. Surprisingly fast, they forced open enough of a space that both of them could squeeze through without being scratched or cut by the oxidized metal. No sense in escaping from this dangerous place only to fall victim to tetanus, after all.

World – Round 4, Turn 2

Access 8S – an  INMATE, seeking to escape; Physical Abilities – to be determined by the Creature Crafter; Metaphysical Abilities – Insanely Dangerous; a desperate and deranged criminal who will do anything to get out of this place! (High Impact)

 

Question: What physical abilities does the escaping inmate possess? (Creature Crafter, roll 2d100) – Charge, no other special ability; the man has the ability to perform a devastating charge, like a rhinoceros, into an opponent to do extensive physical damage.

 

Okay, ladies – prepare to meet Jeremiah “The Rhino” Hays!

 

      As the two heroines stood up, they heard a bellow above the slowly fading sounds of the alarm bells. Looking in that direction, they could dimly see an extremely large, hulking figure ahead of them. A wild look gleamed in his eyes, and his bare, leathery torso and arms showed grossly overdeveloped muscles. Equally powerful and grotesque were his legs, which were barely contained by his torn pants, and his sharply angular head – product of a defect from birth – reminded one of an animal's horn. Indeed, the entire appearance of the man, and his obvious aggressiveness, told Shadowvixen who it was she and The Jade Rose now faced.

      “It's 'The Rhino'!” she exclaimed. “One of the inmates I sent here a few months ago. Watch out – he's as dangerous as the animal he's named for!”

      As if in response to her comment, Jeremiah Hays, a.k.a. 'The Rhino', bellowed again, and charged towards the heroines. He remembered Shadowvixen, and wanted nothing more now than to crush her to death in his embrace, or to smash her body against the walls until it broke, before he continued his flight to what he hoped was freedom!

 

 

Hero – Round 4, Turn 2

Access 2D, use 6D, 9D – The Jade Rose, Character Assumption: Her greater experience leads her to use superior tactics against The Rhino's mindless brute strength. (High Impact)

 

      Shadowvixen tensed, about to give battle as the man charged, but a touch from The Jade Rose gave her instant pause. “Wait,” she told the younger vigilantess, putting a firm hand upon her shoulder.

      “But – !” the fox-masked female started to protest.

      “Wait!” came the calm, commanding response from her Oriental idol.

      Closer rushed the huge hulk of a human being....

      Closer....

      Closer....

      And just as the monster reached out to grasp the dark-garbed damsel, The Jade Rose shoved Shadowvixen aside to her left, and used the push and her own agility to avoid him also. As she'd hoped, the surprise move was as successful as a matador's swipe of his cape against a rushing bull. 'The Rhino' charged right past them – directly into the hard iron of the cage behind them!

      “CRASH!” went the cage as Hays collided with it, dazing him. Barely had he started to disentangle himself from the bars when a vicious series of blows with feet and fists from both heroines assaulted him from all sides, concentrating on his knees, elbows, kidneys and head.

      “Don't give him a moment to recover!” The Jade Rose ordered. “Keep attacking!”

      Again and again, they pummeled at the huge man's most vital areas, until 'The Rhino' fell upon his face, unconscious. Panting, the two crimefighters looked upon their victim, then gave each other a grin and handshake of triumph. Then they hastened on to find a way out of this insane place....

 

World – Round 4, Turn 3

Access 6D – See entry for World, Round 3, Turn 5 (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: Balog discovers that his victims have escaped, and tells them the hunt is on!

 

      Meanwhile, the ringing of the cage's alarm had alerted Ernö Balog and his minions that something was badly amiss. Rushing down to the dungeon deathtrap via another set of stairs, they discovered the open hatchway, the flooded floor, the dead piranha laying about...and no human victims. In shock and anger, he bellowed so loudly that, thirty feet above and fifty yards north of his position, both Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose could hear him.

      “THEY HAVE ESCAPED! FIND THEM, YOU FOOLS!! FIND THEM, OR YOU WILL PAY WITH YOUR LIVES!!!”

 

 

Hero – Round 4, Turn 3

Access 4H – The Jade Rose, Danger Sense (Low Impact)

 

      “Follow me!” said The Jade Rose to her comrade, and both masked ladies rushed around two bends and up another flight of stairs, eventually pushing through a door to find themselves inside the sanitarium's library. A secret passage!

      “Now I know where we are, and how to get out!” Shadowvixen commented. “I remember seeing a floor plan of the Shaded Oaks once. Through that door there, turn right, down a corridor, and out the front doors. Come on!” she said, and took the lead with the green-dressed woman right behind her.

      As they passed out into the main corridor of the ground floor, dashing for the reinforced oak doors that meant escape from the madhouse, The Jade Rose remembered something vitally important....

      “Duck!” she shouted, and at once, both her and Shadowvixen dove for the floor. As they did, darts criss-crossed above them, embedding themselves into the walls. Behind her rose-red mask, the Chinese woman grimly grinned – as she'd sensed, the villains had re-set the trap that had caught her originally.

      “Hurry now!” she said. “There should be no one to stop us from escaping over the wall!” With that, she got up and ran out the front doors, with a slender figure in black close behind her.

 

 

World – Round 4, Turn 4

Access 2D – A MEMORANDUM suggests a problem. (Low Impact)

 

What is the problem that the memo communicates? (Complex) – Debase / Misfortune

Interpretation: It is a message warning Balog that his misdeeds have been discovered, and that he must flee, or all is lost!

 

      As she looked back, Shadowvixen noticed a paper posted to the front door on the outside. Curious, she slid to a stop, and rushed back to tear it off. The Jade Rose, sensing her younger friend's absence, also stopped and looked at her incredulously. “What are you doing?!” she demanded. “We must get away from here!”

      “I'm coming!” said Shadowvixen as she ran to rejoin her fellow vigilantess. As they resumed their flight, she read aloud the note to the Oriental heroine. “'Shadowvixen knows you are behind Sherwood attack. Police probably alerted. Flee for your life.' No signature,” she finished, panting.

      “Whoever sent that surely will not rely on a written note only,” The Jade Rose commented. “Soon there will be a telephone call, if not already, and Balog will disappear where no one will be able to find him,” she said sourly.

 

      “And therefore, Jennifer Sherwood will still be in danger,” the cloaked crusader said in glum agreement, not hinting that she happened to be the wealthy heiress in Balog's sights....

 

 

Hero – Round 4, Turn 4

Access 8S – Shadowvixen, Martial Artist (Low Impact)

 

      The two heroines reached the twelve-foot wall surrounding the estate, the setting moon illuminating the iron spikes atop the granite blocks. Without hesitation, Shadowvixen leaped upon the wall and used the ninjitsu climbing techniques her mentor Mitsuru taught her to scale the story-plus barrier with ease. Below her, The Jade Rose followed more slowly, trying to pick her way up. The younger crimefighter removed her cloak and, straddling the top of the wall, lowered it down to her older counterpart to help her up to the top.

 

 

World – Round 4, Turn 5

Access 4H – See entry for Round 3, Turn 2 (Moderate Impact); use 9D to activate Shadowvixen's Heroic Disadvantage: Hunted (Low Impact)

 

      “Shadowvixen!” suddenly came a voice from outside the wall. She recognized it instantly – it was Inspector Gunderson, the police official who had made it his personal quest to apprehend the daredevil damsel that had, in his mind, repeatedly embarrassed his department with her private war on crime.

      She groaned. What a time for her very own Ahab to show up! She rushed to hoist The Jade Rose up onto the wall before the police could catch them both!

----------

      Meanwhile, one of Balog's orderlies, left on the third floor to monitor the few prisoners that the evil Hungarian didn't dare let free, answered a phone call in the upstairs office. “Hello?” he asked. “Yes?...Oh, no....” He looked out the window and blanched. “Yes, they're here! I'll tell him at once!” He immediately hung up the phone and ran downstairs, frantically calling for his boss.

 

 

Hero – Round 4, Turn 5

Access 9D, use 2D – Shadowvixen, Character Assumption: Her experience evading the Inspector in the past comes through to help her and The Jade Rose escape from the authorities. (Moderate Impact)

 

      Hauling up the slender Chinawoman up to the top, Shadowvixen then jumped from the wall with The Jade Rose close behind, just as a gunshot rang out and a bullet whizzed over their heads, passing through the space they'd just vacated.

      “Quick! Run!” Shadowvixen shouted over her shoulder, and put on her cloak even as she and her partner sped into the trees, Gunderson sent most of his men in hot pursuit. Their sergeant tapped the inspector on the shoulder. “Sir? Aren't we here to check out the Sanitarium? Why are we chasing after Shadowvixen and that other person?” he asked.

      “Because she's obviously involved with this Balog fellow, that's why! Why else would she even be here? She's probably arranged for him to do some awful crime against Jennifer Sherwood, so she can take the credit for stopping him!” Gunderson said.

      “And this helps Balog...how?” the officer asked in some confusion.

      “Don't question my authority!” his superior roared. “I'm in charge here, and I'm telling you to catch that meddling vigilante!”

     

      That distraction, however, was just what Shadowvixen needed. Weaving her way about the thick copse of oaks surrounding the former Wainwright estate, she reached a certain point, then whispered something into The Jade Rose's ear. The older woman grinned and nodded in understanding, then the two ladies separated, running off in opposite directions.

      Suddenly, voices came back from different places in the wood, both sounding female! They led the confused policemen this way and that, scattering them throughout the small forest. Without realizing it, they ran right past the concealed women, hiding up in the trees, at which point they noiselessly sneaked back to where the police had left their vehicles.

      As Gunderson waited by a paddy wagon for his men, watching the dawn slowly approach in the east, a patter of feet rushed up behind him. Turning, he was just in time to see The Jade Rose smack him in the stomach with a flying kick, sending him sprawling. As he did, Shadowvixen climbed into the driver's seat, started up the vehicle, and put it into gear, backing it up and turning it around. The inspector tried to get his pistol out, but the Oriental vigilante kicked it away into the dark.

      “Forget about us for once, Inspector,” she told him. “You have much more important people to catch inside that house!” She smiled down at him. “Tell Balog it will take more than that to stop Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose!” The heroine then turned and leaped upon the back of the police wagon as her younger compatriot drove off as fast as it could go. Gunderson could only look on as they departed, leaving him – literally – in the dust.

      “The Jade Rose?” he gasped in disbelief. “Not another woman in a mask!” Then he lay back with a groan of frustration and pain. His world had just gotten a lot more complicated.

 

* * * * *

 

INTERLUDE

 

 

      Jennifer Sherwood, wearing a thick white cotton bathrobe and a towel wrapped about her honey-blonde tresses, emerged from the bathroom of the mistress' suite on the third floor of her home and leaned wearily against the door frame for a moment. It had been a very long night indeed, and one she'd been fortunate to survive. She had The Jade Rose to thank for that, in part, as well as her own wits and luck, though evading Inspector Gunderson's flying squad hadn't been easy. Nor had it been easy to get to one of her hiding places in the City without being seen, but she'd managed it. She'd invited her idol and inspiration to come with her to the Vixen's Den, but the Chinese vigilantess had politely declined, saying she did not wish to chance discovering any secrets of her younger ally in crimefighting. So they'd parted at last, fast friends after the night's events, leaving Shadowvixen to make her way via underground tunnels to her secret lair beneath the Manor. There, she'd shed her costume and taken the hidden elevator up to her suite, where she'd immediately gone into the bath to wash off the grime and stink of her many trials.

      Clean at last, her mind and body alike numbed by events, Jennifer looked longingly upon the canopied bed that awaited her. Making sure the window shades were drawn down to keep out the horrid sunlight of the early morning, she shed her robe and towel and slid under the clean sheets and downy comforter, enjoying the luxurious feel of smooth sateen against her bare flesh. A sigh escaped her lips as the young heiress felt herself quickly falling into a well-deserved slumber....

      Just then, a series of quick knocks came from the double doors that connected the suite to the main hallway of the uppermost floor of the manor house. Immediately, Rani opened the doors and entered the bedroom. “Good morning, Jennifer!” she cheerfully said as she closed the doors behind her to give them privacy from the rest of the manor staff.

      Her mistress groaned and pulled the covers over her head as she turned over on her side. “Please, Rani, not now,” she complained.

      The Japanese woman who'd essentially been Miss Sherwood's surrogate mother for nearly twenty years pulled up one of the window shades, letting in some sunlight, then sat next to her youthful charge. “Mitsuru said you might have a long night. Was it?” Rani asked with concern.

      “Very,” Jennifer replied, reluctantly pulling the covers down to reveal her disheveled hair and bleary eyes. “I almost didn't come back this time,” she admitted. “Still, it was a profitable outing. Among other things, Shadowvixen discovered that Ernö Balog was the one who organized the attacks on me yesterday.”

      “Balog?!” Rani breathed in shock. “I remember reading of him! I thought he was in an asylum?”

      “He was,” Jennifer said, “and he'd managed to take the place over for himself. But thanks to the help of a new friend, and the nearly-untimely arrival of Inspector Gunderson, I don't think that will be the case any more – I hope!” she added earnestly.

      Rani nodded in agreement; she knew something of the murderer's sadistic tendencies. “So, he is the one responsible for all that happened here? The one who seeks your death?”

      The City's daredevil damsel shook her head and turned over upon her back, putting one bare arm over her eyes, forgetting that Rani could see on it slight ligature marks from the ropes that had encircled the heroine in the deathtrap she'd escaped mere hours before. The Japanese woman looked anxiously at them, then at Jennifer's worn face, but the younger female was oblivious in her fatigue. She sighed deeply.

      “No, Rani,” she told her housekeeper. “Balog is a sadistic fiend, to be sure, but he's never before indicated any political motivations. So why the sudden interest in my convention? Why the demand I stop organizing the City's progressives behind David Ambrose?” She again shook her head in negation. “No, someone else is behind his efforts; a note I found at the asylum indicated as much. But who is it? I can't really believe it's Mayor Vaughn, but maybe it's one of his cronies, acting on his own?” Jennifer sighed once more, a sound that managed to mingle both her physical fatigue and her mental and psychological weariness. “That's what I have to try to find out – later. Right now, all I want to do is sleep.”

      “Father O'Flannery will be disappointed not to see you at Sunday Mass,” Mrs. Kurosawa chided gently.

      “I'll be sure to go to confession next Sunday to make up for it,” her 'daughter' replied, a faint smile forming on her lips as she again wondered what the elderly priest would think if he knew his wealthiest parishioner and patron was also secretly the nocturnal crimefightress who'd aided the Church of Saint Benedict on more than one occasion. “It's for the best, though,” Jennifer said more grimly. “If Balog managed to somehow elude the authorities, then I'm still very much a target – as would possibly many other people around her. In fact,” recalling the horrible Hungarian's plans for Miss Sherwood that he'd taunted Shadowvixen and The Jade Rose with, “it'd probably be for the best if I stayed here the rest of the upcoming week. I can still get most of the convention planning done from the manor, and Winford can easily handle running the Town Crier,” referring to her managing editor.

      “And Shadowvixen?” Rani asked.

      Jennifer removed her arm from across her eyes and laid it on her chest above the covers, as she gave the middle-aged Issei woman a tired, but determined, look. “Shadowvixen will call in some favors. The sooner she can get to the bottom of this mess, the better – for myself and for the City at large!”

----------

      That night, Shadowvixen paid a secret call upon her friend on the City's police force, Detective Simon Case. A surprise was in store for her.

      “They caught the shooter?!” the dark-garbed heroine exclaimed.

      “Yep,” Case replied with some pride. “We do occasionally do what we're supposed to, Shadowvixen.”

     

      “I didn't mean any aspersion to your department, Simon,” she apologized. “I just expected one of Balog's men to be more careful.”

      “Funny you should say that,” Case said. “It turns out he's not one of Balog's men.”

      Shadowvixen blinked in surprise. “Who is he, then?”

      “A professional assassin by the name of Hicks. British. Supposedly the last of the old Moriarty gang, eluding Scotland Yard for years. At least, he was using the same kind of air rifle that was used by Moriarty's second-in-command to try and kill Sherlock Holmes years ago. Mister Holmes has since retired, you know, but he was kind enough to answer our inquiry about Hicks by telegram this afternoon. He said that if Hicks was being used, then the person who hired him had far-reaching connections that Balog wouldn't have access to,” Case finished.

      “He hasn't talked, has he?”

      “Never got the chance to ask him anything. He took poison from a hidden vial before he could be questioned.”

      “Curiouser and curiouser,” his female ally remarked, stroking her chin. “What did Inspector Gunderson find at the asylum?”

      The rising star in the police department shrugged his shoulders ruefully. “Lots, but not enough. He managed to catch more than half of Balog's men and rescued the director of the sanitarium from his cell, plus they found evidence of several crimes Balog's gang committed.”

      “But Balog escaped,” Shadowvixen finished for him. Case nodded in affirmation. “In that case, Jennifer Sherwood is still in danger,” she concluded.

      “Right,” the detective agreed. “Commissioner Carson is leaning towards placing her in protective custody, or at least assigning her 'round-the-clock police protection.”

      Which would put a serious crimp on Shadowvixen's freedom to act, the heroine silently considered. On the other hand, it'd put Rani and Mitsuru at ease, and give me a chance to pull the convention together in relative safety.

      “That might not be a bad idea,” she said finally. “It'd probably deter Balog, especially since he's on the run now and doesn't have a safe haven to operate from.”

      Case nodded in agreement. “Exactly! And with him out in the open, we'll catch him before he can do anything to hurt Miss Sherwood. Especially with the added information you've 'anonymously' provided,” he added with a knowing grin. She returned it.

      “All to help my favorite policeman,” Shadowvixen quipped. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd best be on my way. Hopefully, I can pick up Balog's trail tonight and let you in on the capture.”

      “I'll be waiting for your call, Shadowvixen. Good hunting!” he told her as the cloaked crusader slipped away into the night....

----------

      Frustratingly, though, 'The Butcher from Buda' would elude the efforts of both police and vigilantess alike to capture him. And for a very good reason, since he was hiding in literally the last place anyone would expect – in the lowest levels of City Hall's basement!

      “I fret in this prison,” Ernö Balog remarked bitterly.

      “You wouldn't be here if your men hadn't left evidence that Shadowvixen was able to use to trace your connection to the Sherwood attacks,” another man in the shadows told him sourly. “Or if your supposed genius at deathtraps had actually killed her and The Jade Rose. That's all we need – another vigilante running around the streets of the City!”

      “Then let me leave here,” Balog retorted. “I shall kill them both and Sherwood, as you paid me to do! Balog never leaves a job unfinished!”

      “And let you walk right into the arms of the police?” the other one said scathingly. “Carson's got his men all over looking for you, and he'll have others guarding Sherwood night and day. No, we need to let the attention die down first. There's still nearly two weeks before the little lady holds her convention, after all. We'll let her get confident that the worst is over, and that she's got nothing more to fear.”

      Balog watched as the other man stepped forward into the light cast by a bulb overhead, which illuminated a balding, overweight figure dressed smartly in a formal suit with a gold watch hanging from his coat pocket. His dark eyes glistened as his lips produced a perfectly confident sneer below a bushy mustache. He pulled a cigar from between his teeth and blew out a cloud of tobacco smoke, before speaking again.

      “Then, my friend,” said Cyril Vaughn, mayor of The City, “I'll let you loose upon her – and Miss Jennifer Sherwood will no longer be a problem for either of us.”

 

* * * * *

 

ROUND FIVE

 

A soiree at the bayside estate of Mr. & Mrs. Edgar Cunningham, 400 North Cape Drive – 8:07 PM, Wednesday, September 15^th, 1915

 

      “Jennifer, dear! It's so good to see you! I wasn't sure if you would be able to come, despite your RSVP,” Mrs. Beatrice Cunningham exclaimed joyfully as she saw the once-imperiled heiress enter through the front hallway of the lavish home of The City's wealthiest shipper and his wife.

      “Thank you, Mrs. Cunningham,” Jennifer Sherwood said with a winning smile, resplendent in her blue silk evening gown, elbow-length white gloves, hand-held fan and pearl necklace.[1] “To be honest, I wasn't sure myself that I'd be here until I managed to convince Commissioner Carson to let the good Detective Case be my escort for the evening,” introducing the good-looking but somewhat nervous police official to her host. As they exchanged polite greetings, Jennifer mused briefly upon the circumstances that had brought her to this moment.

----------

      The past eleven days had been an odd blend of frantic activity and tedious boredom at Masterson Manor. Frantic, in that Jennifer had had to pull together her political convention while stuck at her home under virtual house arrest, the manor surrounded at all times by uniformed policemen – an arrangement ordered by the police commissioner to ensure Miss Sherwood's safety while Ernö Balog was on the loose. Which, in turn, had led to the boredom at night, for Jennifer dared not take to her nocturnal activities as Shadowvixen for fear of her secret being inadvertently discovered by Simon Case, whom Carson had appointed to be her bodyguard “until further notice.” Friend to the vigilantess though he was, she did not want to risk putting him into an ethical dilemma should he chance upon her true identity.

      Still, things had turned out well. Shocked by the ruthless attacks upon her, Jennifer's fellow reformers had rallied around her and done much to bring the convention into being. The meeting hall had been reserved and decorated. The agenda had been hammered out during a luncheon at the Manor, with surprisingly little difficulty. Press coverage had been arranged, including by some reporters from out of town, and posters and pamphlets and programs had been printed and distributed to advertise the event. Far more quickly and easily than Jennifer had ever anticipated, her proposed “progressives' meeting” had swelled to nearly a thousand participants from across The City and the state, all bound together by their support for reform candidate David Ambrose...and for the youthful publisher who'd nearly lost her life trying to help him.

 

      Hence this get-together, as the Cunninghams – leaders of the local Temperance League – had decided it would be a perfect occasion for all involved to reflect on and celebrate their efforts. And once their engraved invitation had arrived in yesterday's mail, there was no question in Miss Sherwood's mind that she would attend, sadistic fiend after her or no! Convincing the police commissioner and her detective bodyguard of that had been more problematic, and in fact...

----------

      “Truth be told,” Case told Mrs. Cunningham, “I wish we weren't here. Nothing against your hospitality,” he hastily clarified, “but we still don't think it's safe for Miss Sherwood to be out and about just yet.”

      “Oh, Mister Case,” the middle-aged hostess told him, “I don't think you have anything to worry about. I've arranged for extra security from the Pinkertons, and no one is here who isn't on the invited list.”

      “And besides,” Jennifer added, “we came with an armed motorcycle escort by a path no one but you and my driver knew ahead of time. That horrid Balog person hasn't been seen since his escape last Sunday week, and you've taken every precaution to ensure my safety. I know it's your duty to watch over me, Mister Case, but I refuse to let that monster control my life any longer! Besides, I feel perfectly safe with you at my side,” she said with a smile of gratitude that, had he known, encompassed Shadowvixen's thanks for all he'd done to aid her over the past year. And what she'd just said was true, so far as it went – aside from Nick and Mitsuru, there was no other man she trusted more than Simon Case.

      Case blushed ever so slightly at her remark and tugged a bit uncomfortably at the tie of his rented tuxedo. “It's really not right for an officer of the law to fraternize with the citizen he's protecting,” he said softly.

      “Oh, good heavens, Mister Case!” Jennifer replied with slight exasperation. “It won't hurt you for one evening to indulge in a little dinner and dancing! Besides, this is as much a business gathering as a social one. I haven't been able to properly meet and thank everyone here for making the convention such a certain success. Come now, let's go mingle!”

      With that, she confidently led him deeper into the elegantly furnished house and towards the equally elegantly-clad entourage of high society guests. To be sure, the disguised crimefighter was still somewhat on her guard – after all, she knew that while Balog might not be as much of a threat as before, whoever had hired him was still unaccounted for. Still, surely this gathering of The City's social and progressive elite couldn't pose any danger to her....

 

 

ROUND FIVE TABLEAU:  5H, 3C, 6C, 10S, 8H

 

(the Cunningham Estate is a Spontaneous Location; all conflict list entries generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 5, Turn 1

Access 3C – Thing, Concrete / Release / Leadership (Low Impact); use the 5H to activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Second-Class Citizen; as a woman, faces prejudice (Low Impact)

Interpretation: A gentleman at the party demands that Jennifer resign her position of authority!

 

Who is the gentleman? (Complex) – Cruelty / Enemies

Interpretation: Oh, that can only mean one thing. It's another dire warning from Balog!

 

      As they circulated about the room, Simon Case felt a tap upon his shoulder. Turning, he saw one of the Cunningham's footmen there with a small envelope upon a silver platter.

      “A note for Miss Sherwood, sir,” the formally-attired manservant. “This came for her by the evening post, and we were asked to deliver it to her upon her arrival.”

      “I see,” said the detective, taking it and holding it up to the light; no indication of what was inside could be seen through its thick paper, however. Turning it over, there was no sign of who had sent it, save a typewritten salutation:  For Miss Sherwood, From An Admirer.

   Jennifer, who'd noticed Case's actions, asked him, “What is it?”

      “A letter for you from a secret admirer, apparently,” he replied with a  frown. “This should have come to your home, though. Mind if I open it?”

      “If it's truly from an admirer of mine, Mister Case,” the heiress slyly said, “I'm not sure a gentleman should be reading what might be words intended only for my eyes,” letting the implied meaning of her words sink in. With another slight blush, the police officer handed over the envelope, which Jennifer then opened easily despite her gloved fingers. Taking out the folded letter that lay nestled inside, she unraveled it and began reading:

 

 

My Dear Miss Sherwood,

 

   Allow me to congratulate you on your escape from certain death. Truly, since then I have come to admire your beauty, your bravery, and your determination to carry on in the face of the direst threats to your safety. All these things stir my blood – and make me all the more eager to personally oversee your destruction!

 

   Still, I am compelled to offer you a last chance to save yourself. This is your final warning, Miss Sherwood. A mere woman as yourself has no place in politics. Resign from both the convention and your place as head of your uncle's publishing company, and retire to the shy, quiet existence that a lady of your quality ought to have! Do not meddle any more in the affairs of this City, or your life shall surely end in a most terrible manner at my hands, and I will relish your fear and agony as you die. If you know my reputation, then you also know this is no idle threat.

 

                                             BALOG

 

 

Hero – Round 5, Turn 1

Access 5H – Character Assumption: A true suffragist won't let herself be intimidated! (Low Impact)

 

      With a surprising calmness that hid the boiling anger inside her, Jennifer handed the letter over to Case to read. “It seems that Mister Balog is still infatuated with me,” she said simply.

      Her escort started at that remark, and he quickly ready through the short note. “I knew he hadn't left The City!” Case growled. “I have to get you out of here.”

      “And let that lunatic dictate my movements, as if I were a panicked rabbit?” his beautiful young charge retorted hotly before she got herself back under control. She'd nearly given herself away there. “I told you before, Detective, that I feel no safer than here, with you, among my friends and colleagues assembled. Balog wouldn't dare strike at me here, of all places! Nor do I have any intention of giving in to his demands!” She took a deep breath to calm herself again. “Let's not tell anyone else here of this note, shall we? We wouldn't want to create a panic.”

      “All right,” Case reluctantly agreed. “But I'm going to ask that footman for everything he can tell me about it. Right now, it might be my best lead on getting 'the Butcher' back behind bars.”

      Jennifer nodded; it was certainly what Shadowvixen would have done in the same situation. “That's a good idea. I'll continue with my mingling and keep an eye and ear out for any trouble. Don't worry, I'll be fine.” Then, with Case's promise to be right back, she continued to make her social rounds about the party.

 

 

World – Round 5, Turn 2

Access 5H – Being, Passive / Excitement / Illusions (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: In the background, a magician is performing tricks for those attending, and they are responding enthusiastically to the fantastic illusions being cast.

 

      As Jennifer strolled through the gathering of her friends and colleagues, exchanging thanks and kind wishes, something interesting caught her attention.

      Some thirty or so of those attending were gathered about a raised dais at the back of the room, on which a magician in his elegant stage suit was performing. He was an illusionist, to be precise, and was currently in the midst of making Mrs. Adelaide Cornwall's pet spaniel disappear from the box in which he'd been placed a moment earlier. As the crowd applauded, the anxious socialite was reassured by the magician – a certain “Monsieur Sorcier” – that her beloved animal would be back in a moment. And, of course, hey, presto! the dog reappeared on cue – with a lovely red bow about its neck which it didn't have before! Even Jennifer, who knew a thing or two about stage illusions, was suitably impressed, and applauded enthusiastically along with the other guests.

      As Mrs. Cornwall retrieved her pet, the illusionist announced in a perfect French accent, “And now, for my final trick, I would appreciate a volunteer from the audience to assist me. Is there anyone willing?” There was no immediate response, and for good reason. After all, watching magic was one thing, but being part of the act was another! Would anyone dare to step up to the dais? Finally, an unexpected voice broke the hesitant silence.

      “All right, dash it all! Let no man say David Ambrose was afraid of a silly magic trick!” And with that, the prize guest of the Cunninghams' soiree – the state's attorney general, and the Progressive opponent to Mayor Cyril Vaughn's incumbency – walked confidently up to join Monsieur Sorcier on the small stage.

      “And just what do you wish to have me do for you, sir?” Mister Ambrose asked jovially.

      “Oh, nothing much, monsieur – just have you vanish while sitting on a swing in mid-air, that's all.”

      The chief lawyer for the state chuckled as his fellow guests murmured their astonishment and concern. “Now that'd be something! I'd like to see you do it!” Ambrose told the magician.

 

 

Hero – Round 5, Turn 2

Access 8H – Character Assumption: Shadowvixen, of all people, won't want David Ambrose to expose himself to any possible danger, and this might certainly qualify! (Low Impact)

 

      Jennifer's sense of impending disaster ratched up several notches at that comment. She considered herself ultimately expendable in the cause of promoting justice in the City, but Ambrose wasn't! The forty-something prosecutor and his reform agenda was the entire reason why she'd organized the convention in the first place. If anything were to happen to him...!

 

      Yet, even as she thought of calling out to stop him, she knew it would be useless. Ambrose was known for having a bulldog's tenacity and the courage of a lion, and that once challenged, he wouldn't back down. As he'd just said, he wouldn't dare have his bravery questioned or impugned, however earnest the desire of others to protect him...and Jennifer couldn't fault him for that, for it was how she'd expressed herself to Simon Case mere minutes earlier. Looking around, she couldn't see the detective anywhere; he was probably still questioning the staff about Balog's letter. Ambrose was about to settle onto the large wicker basket swing chair that hung from the ceiling. There was no time left for indecision.

      “Wait, Monsieur Sorcier!” the heiress called out, and all eyes turned to her in surprise.

      “Oui, mademoiselle?” the Frenchman replied uncertainly.

      Jennifer Sherwood strode up through the crowd to the very front of the stage. Putting her hands confidently on her hips, she addressed the magician. “Making one person disappear is old hat, sir. Can you make two people vanish together? Because that would certainly put you in the ranks of the great illusionists!”

      Sorcier straightened to his full height. “I most certainly can, mademoiselle! Are you daring to be that second person?”

      “I most certainly am, monsieur,” the distaff publisher replied. “If Mister Ambrose is brave enough to try this, then let it be said that Jennifer Sherwood is, as well!” There was a collective gasp from the other guests at her pronouncement, but if this was the only way Shadowvixen could secretly make sure Ambrose would be safe, then it had to be chanced.

 

 

World – Round 5, Turn 3

Access 6C – Being, Mysterious / Spy / The Spiritual (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: From afar, Someone is watching over events....

 

      Far away from the confines of the Cunningham estate, a figure robed all in white looked into a crystal mirror and paid witness to what was taking place. As the forthright suffragette and hidden crusader stepped forward and onto the stage, the figure's attention intensified.

      “Now comes the moment. She has made her choice, and walks into the very den of disaster. What transpires next may rule the fate of many besides herself,” whispered an anxious voice. And it might determine whether the figure would do something it had not done in a very long time – intervene.

 

 

Hero – Round 5, Turn 3

Access 3C – Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      Mister Ambrose and Miss Sherwood sat close together on the wicker swing chair, holding tightly to the ropes from which it was suspended. At a signal from Monsieur Sorcier, it was hoisted by an electric pulley until it was ten feet off the floor, where it then stopped. Both of them looked down upon their friends and supporters and waved. All eyes were upon them.

      “And now, madames et monsieurs, in a moment a cloth will cover the swing entirely. At that instant, I shall recite the incantation to disappear, and both Monsieur Ambrose and Mademoiselle Sherwood will vanish in mid-air, in a feat never before attempted by even the great Houdini or Thurston!” exclaimed Sorcier.

      A third rope was lowered, bringing down a heavy curtain that would drape over and totally conceal the two reformers from view. Ambrose glanced up and gave his unexpected companion a nervous smile. “I'm glad I have company on this little trip,” he murmured.

     

      “Glad I could provide it, Mister Ambrose,” Jennifer said simply, then gave him a confident grin and wink. “Don't worry; whatever happens, I'll be right there with you.”

      The attorney general was about to ask what she meant by that, when the curtain rang down upon them both.

 

 

World – Round 5, Turn 4

Access 8H – Locale, Deliberate / Violate / Dreams (High Impact)

Interpretation: The staged illusion causes its participants to suffer hallucinations!

 

      Sorcier dramatically gestured, shouted something that definitely wasn't French, and the ropes suspending the chair and curtain alike came loose! The curtain floated down to the floor, but of the wicker swing and its two occupants, there was absolutely no sign at all! After a gasp of astonishment, the entire party clapped its hands in wild applause at an incredible trick.

      Unfortunately, for Jennifer Sherwood and David Ambrose, the illusion had only just begun....

----------

      Jennifer found herself floating in a shifting landscape of her mind, drifting in confusion. What was happening to her? Where was Ambrose?

      She suddenly saw the convention hall. It was the day of the meeting, all was going smoothly. Everyone was in attendance, the press were gathered, guests and interested members of the public lined the balcony. She saw herself stepping up to the podium, saying some introduction, and then her hand picked up a gavel and banged the convention to formally commence.

      Then she was outside, floating as if high up above the hall, as suddenly a huge explosion rocked the entire building, causing it to crash down upon its occupants! An enormous cloud of dust and smoke rose from the disaster – and in that cloud were the faces and voices of her friends and supporters, accusing her of causing their deaths. Her!

      Jennifer recoiled in horror, and turned to flee, but everywhere she turned there was another accuser, another life lost, another hope shattered. She spun about, searching desperately for some sort of haven from the madness...

      ...and looked directly into her own haunted image, blank eyes staring lifelessly as her own mouth whispered, “Our fault...all our fault.”

 

 

Hero – Round 5, Turn 4

Access 10S – Martial Artist (Low Impact)

 

      For the briefest of moments, Jennifer was nearly overcome with terror and guilt alike. Then, suddenly and unbidden, came the memory of another scene of mental torture she'd experienced a month earlier, at the hands of Doctor Xavier Matthews. She also remembered how her beloved Nick had saved her from it...and suddenly, her courage and determination returned.

      “Not again,” she muttered. “Not this time.”

      Instantly, in her mind's eye, she transformed into Shadowvixen, and the enraged vigilantess smashed a fist viciously into her other self, causing it to disappear! Realizing the effect it was having, the liberated crimefighter lashed out at all the other spirits with swift, disciplined strikes of mind and imagined body alike. One by one, they began to vanish as her inner self fought to regain control.

 

 

 

World – Round 5, Turn 5

Access 10S – Being, Aggressive / Usurp / Emotions (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: Jennifer's antagonist is the one manipulating her feelings as she is carted off to an unknown fate!

 

Was Ambrose also taken prisoner? (Very Likely, but not necessarily so) – Exceptional Yes!

Aiieee...that roll means Ambrose will be sharing in whatever Balog has in mind for Jennifer!

 

      With a start, Miss Sherwood came awake, only to find herself hogtied in the back of a wagon. Beside her, unconscious, lay David Ambrose, candidate for mayor. And kneeling near her, with a scented cloth in his hand, was the evil Ernö Balog.

      “Awake so soon?” he asked with some surprise. “You are indeed strong, Miss Sherwood – but not strong enough, for soon you will meet your end, as will your dear Mister Ambrose. He will share your fate, as is fitting, since his campaign has led to your demise.”

      “Do...what you want...with me,” Jennifer gasped weakly, still groggy and disoriented from whatever had happened to her under Sorcier's spell. “But leave...Mister Ambrose...alone. He's...done...nothing to...deserve this.”

      Balog, though, shook his head. “Not yet – but he will, I am sure of it, if left alive. He will hound me until I hang at last. Better for my neck if it were he that dies instead, along with you. Until then, unpleasant dreams, lady,” and he reached to press his soaked cloth against her face. It wasn't long before the already-weak heiress succumbed to the sweet-smelling chemical.

----------

      This time, the nightmares were a montage of horrible ends, cataloged from the deepest horrors of imagination. Flesh ripped apart by savage beasts, or boiled away in an acid bath. A sharp blade slowly slicing her in twain, and spikes penetrating her body fractions of an inch at a time. The terrible embrace of stone slabs crushing her to a pulp; the fear of falling into an endless pit of blackness.

      And throughout it all, Balog was there, laughing gleefully at the sight and sound of her fear-filled deaths, as they occurred over and over and over again....

 

 

Hero – Round 5, Turn 5

Access 6C – Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      On and on, the nightmare continued, never ending but passing from one gruesome execution to the next. Yet, Jennifer was still herself, and her inner vigilante came to the surface of her dream once again. Garbed in her dark costume, her blue eyes glinted defiance from behind the black fox's mask that shielded her face.

      “You haven't beaten me yet, Balog!” Shadowvixen shouted from the very depths of the young woman's mind and soul. “Mark my words, you will pay for your evil crimes – even if I have to haunt your nightmares forever to do it!”

      But the only response was the murderous Magyar's laughing visage surrounding her, drowning the heroine's courage in a flood tide of fearful wonder. Which of the visions would prove true? What would happen to her when she woke up for real?

 

Okay, what diabolical fate does Balog have in store? This is something the World Player should determine, but since it will set the scene for the next Round, which is the Hero Player's domain, the two players will cooperate to help set things up.[2]

WORLD: Where is Balog taking them? (Complex) – Passion / Masses

Interpretation: Sounds like a theater or opera house of some sort, where the emotions of many people can be stirred at once. But those are downtown, and I'd think it'd be tough to sneak inside one of them, even after hours.

 

HERO: It could also mean a movie studio, and I'm sure there's one on the outskirts of The City; the northeast was the first movie capital of the USA, after all. Is Balog taking them there? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

 

WORLD: Neat idea! Sure fits with the silent-serial/pulp feel of Shadowvixen's adventures. Now, let's see what kind of deathtrap Balog will put Jennifer and Ambrose in once he gets there. (Roll 1d5) – 3, the Box; the Heroine is placed inside a sealed container into which will be introduced a deadly substance. To what extent will they be restrained inside, if any? (Roll 1d100%) – 17; just a little

 

HERO: Not the acid dip he described to Shadowvixen in Round 3?

 

WORLD: Nah, his plans for that were messed up after Gunderson's men stormed the sanitarium and questioned those of his gang he captured. He's had to come up with something else since.

 

HERO: Hmm...here's an idea. Is the trap actually a prop already set up on stage for filming? (50/50) – Yes

 

WORLD: How convenient! Wouldn't that be a surprise for the movie people when they come into work the next day, to find the trap works too well?

 

HERO: Don't forget the rules! Our Heroine can't be killed off yet; just seriously injured, at most.

 

WORLD: I know, but that doesn't mean it's not a problem for you. Remember, it's Jennifer Sherwood in play, not Shadowvixen, so she's without her wonderful toys. And how's she going to escape without exposing her secret identity to the state attorney general in the process?

 

HERO: That's...a very good question. I sure hope Jennifer can figure out the answer!

 

* * * * *

 

ROUND SIX

 

11:58 PM – Inside Stage Two of the Kasem Studios[3], located on the outskirts of The City

 

      Dimly lit by waning moonlight coming through skylights overhead, the building housing one of the three main stages of the Kasem Motion Picture Company facility outside The City stood quiet. Inside, not a creature was stirring – except for two very groggy persons, a man and a woman dressed in elegant evening wear, inside a glass box. Seven feet tall and standing on a square base measuring three feet on each side, its thick panes were nestled within a steel framework while its removable lid was fastened shut by a chain and padlock on top. The persons inside needn't have feared suffocation, for air holes had been conveniently drilled into the lid above them. No, what they had to fear was something much worse.

      Jennifer Sherwood opened her eyes wearily, her fatigue more mental and emotional than physical, after hours of ugly dreams. Waking, she found, wasn't much better. Not only did she find herself imprisoned within the glass case, but also discovered that she remained bound hand and foot. What had previously been the hogtie rope of her bonds had been used to secure her ankles to those of the man who'd been kidnapped with her, whom she felt against her back. His hogtie rope had been used to further secure their bound wrists together, immobilizing them against each other behind their backs. Finally, another, thicker rope was wrapped about both of their upper chests and underneath their armpits, then cinched tightly behind their upper backs before it ran up to a hook in the lid atop the case. Its length was just enough to leave them suspended with their toes a mere two inches above the floor of the glass box. The lovely heiress groaned and shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs from it.

      Behind her, David Ambrose turned his head tiredly to give her a peripheral look over his right shoulder. “Miss Sherwood?” he asked with worry. “Are you hurt any?”

      Blinking her eyes, Jennifer took stock. “No,” she replied after a few seconds. “No, I'm unhurt, thank you. Yourself?” she inquired, giving Ambrose a glance over her left shoulder.

      “Just very nasty dreams, is all,” the attorney general told her ruefully. It seemed she hadn't been the only one afflicted by whatever Balog and Sorcier had cooked up between them. “That, and I'm getting quite uncomfortable in this position,” he added, squirming against his bonds.

      Jennifer nodded in agreement and experimentally tested her own restraints. She found them very securely tied, and she sighed in frustration and concern alike. “I'm so sorry to have gotten you into this, Mister Ambrose,” she regretfully told her political champion. “This is all my fault. Balog had warned me to withdraw; I should have done as he said, after all.”

      “No, my dear lady,” he reassured her. “It is the fault of no one but this evil monster. Neither you, nor any of your colleagues, have done anything to deserve this. It is the right of all our citizens to express their political views, and to support their chosen causes and candidates. Please don't imagine otherwise, for there is no explaining the motives of a madman.”

----------

      “Yes, that is what they call me – mad!” came a muffled voice from outside their glass prison.

      Suddenly, overhead lights came on, and the imprisoned reformers had to close their eyes to adjust to the brightness. When they finally could see again, they noticed they had been joined by two others. Both of them were instantly recognizable.

      “Balog,” Jennifer said as she again beheld the heinous Hungarian's grinning face.

      “Sorcier!” Ambrose cried accusingly. “Why? Why are you partnered with this fiend?”

      The foreign magician, who'd escaped in the chaos following Sherwood's and Ambrose's disappearance, shrugged apologetically. “I am sorry, monsieur, but I have my reasons. Two thousand of them, in fact. Nothing personal, I assure you – I simply needed the money.”

      “At a time when millions of your countrymen are fighting for their lives and the freedom of their homeland, you have quite the nerve to assist in the deaths of innocent Americans. For pay, even!” Jennifer told him angrily. “How very Bosch of you, in fact, allying yourself with a Hungarian.” It wasn't like her to play the ethnic card – she was usually very accepting of different nationalities and religions – but she was understandably rather piqued.

      Sorcier turned furious at her remark, and raised his hands as if to perform some magic against her; but Balog put a restraining hand upon his shoulder. “It is of no matter, friend. Soon these two will be only a memory, to be discovered by the film people tomorrow.”

      “Film people?” Ambrose asked in bafflement.

      Balog gave him a most evil grin. “Oh, yes, Mister Ambrose! You and Miss Sherwood are on the set of a moving picture studio. In fact, this is the very trap to be used in tomorrow's filming. The heroine is imprisoned inside and left to a horrible fate, as it fills with water to drown her.” He began to chuckle with sadistic glee. “Except in your case, it will not be cool liquid that shall enter your glass coffin, but boiling oil!”

      Both of his prisoners gave him horrified looks as they instantly contemplated what would happen to them. Intensely hot, the oil would literally fry their flesh as it slowly spread up their bodies, until it began to enter their mouths as they screamed in agony – assuming they hadn't passed out from shock or from being overcome by the fumes before then. Jennifer shuddered, then gathered her courage and defiance once more. “I still demand to know why you're doing this! Why? It can't just be because I'm a 'woman in politics'!” she shouted at Balog.

      Her tormentor shrugged. “Why not?” he offered simply. “You attracted my attention, and I enjoy my work, as you would know if you had truly studied me. Especially when my victims are so young and beautiful, as yourself,” Balog added, rubbing his hands and admiring the helpless form of the woman before him with eyes that had a feral look to them.

      “Sadist! Pervert!” Ambrose yelled. “You'll pay for this, Balog!”

      “Wrong,” the 'Butcher from Buda' retorted. “It is you who will pay – with your lives.” With that, he went to a pipe on the wall and turned a valve wheel. Faintly, a sound of liquid was heard through the glass by both the publisher and the attorney general. “In a few minutes, the basin overhead will fill to overflowing. When it does, oil will enter the pipes attached to the glass panels just below the lid above you and begin your torment. Goodbye, Miss Sherwood and Mister Ambrose! Your screams of agony will be music to my ears – music I will listen to again and again, as they are recorded on this turntable.” He cranked up the record-making equipment and placed the needle on the blank platter, then turned to Sorcier. “Come, friend. Let us get you your money from our patron. He is waiting for us,” he said as he led the traitorous illusionist away.

      “Farewell, monsieur et mademoiselle,” Sorcier called over his shoulder. “I fear this is one predicament from which even Houdini could not escape!”

      Moments later, nothing more could be heard or seen on the stage except the bright lights illuminating the life-or-death struggle of a man and a woman desperately trying to avoid a horrible end at the hands of one of the century's most sadistic serial killers....

 

 

ROUND SIX TABLEAU:   7S, 10H, FR (Red Joker), 5S, 4S

 

(the Kasem Studios and the deathtrap therein are Spontaneous Locations; as usual, all conflict list entries will be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 6, Turn 1

Access 5S, use FR as 5D – Anomaly! / Failure / Desert (High Impact); use the Diamond to activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Secret Identity (Low Impact)

Interpretation: The white-robed figure from Round 5 – a Magical Mystic – appears suddenly, warning Jennifer that she must not fail to escape and telling her why, before vanishing to leave her to get out of the situation on her own.

 

      For a  full minute, all they could do was yell uselessly for help that would not come, as they worked in vain to escape the deathtrap.

      Then, as she strained and twisted against her bonds, a flash of light directly across from her caught Jennifer's attention. Looking, she saw a figure robed all in white, with a hood so covering its head that its face could not be seen at all. The heiress took a breath to cry for help, when she heard a voice inside her head!

      “Shadowvixen,” said the Voice in a register that blended both male and female aspects, so it was impossible to tell for certain what gender it was. “Do not cry out to me, for what you see is nothing tangible. I have astrally projected myself, so there is nothing I can do to help – except to inspire you.”

      “I don't think I really need any more inspiration than what I've got already,” Jennifer replied under her breath, ignoring the fact she'd been addressed as her crimefighting persona. “Who are you?”

      “One who knows what was, and is, and may yet be,” the Figure said. “And I say to you: You cannot die now! If you fail to escape, then the course of history itself may be irrevocably altered, and not for the best! More than just your life, or that of Mister Ambrose, is at stake. More than that, I cannot tell you, for fear of contaminating the future. But you must live!”

      And with that, the Figure vanished again, leaving Jennifer alone with her destiny.

 

 

Hero – Round 6, Turn 1

Access 10H, use FR as another Heart – Character Assumption: Given a new will to live, Jennifer instinctively realizes how she can effect an escape from the trap. (Moderate Impact)

 

      “Right,” the imperiled damsel muttered. “I need to live – easier said than done!” Already she knew precious moments had passed, and that hot oil was filling the large boiler suspended from the ceiling overhead. If she and Ambrose couldn't get out of these ropes soon, it would be too late! “C'mon, Jennifer, think!”

      Again, she pulled at the ropes about her wrists, feeling them shift ever so slightly against the smooth silk fabric of her opera gloves, but not enough to pull them free, not with their also being lashed to Ambrose's hands as well. She could feel him straining, pulling, trying to break free, but to no avail. Then, as the public official moved, she felt one of the gloves slip down off her left elbow as it loosened from his efforts...and in a flash, realized how they could get free!

      “Mister Ambrose!” she cried over her shoulder. “My left glove is coming loose. Quick, help me get it off!”

      “What?” he asked in confusion. “What good will that do?”

      “No time to explain! Just trust me, sir!” Jennifer told him. “Hurry, pull!” Working together, they pulled down the silky-slick glove off her arm and hand until, about a minute later, it dropped to the floor of their prison.

      Just as she'd hoped, the loss of her glove gave her two newfound advantages. One, there was just a touch of slack now around her left wrist, allowing her to move it about more. That, in turn, allowed her to deploy her second advantage – the faux fingernail she wore on the index finger of her left hand. Made out of ceramic, its edge had been sharpened to a razor's keenness for just such a possible emergency, should Balog try to carry out his threat to melodramatically kill her. Now she went to work, straining to position the nail against the ropes around her wrists and cut at them. She knew she could get herself and Ambrose free. The question was, did she have enough time?

 

 

World – Round 6, Turn 2

Access FR as 6C – Locale, Deliberate / Betray / Stalemate (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: Uh oh! The ropes are tougher than they appear...

 

      Alas, because many cords were wrapped about their hands, they proved surprisingly difficult to saw through. Slowly, all too slowly, they frayed as Jennifer worked at them, while at her direction Ambrose remained perfectly still. Then, suddenly, she felt the nail snap! It had broken, and the thick jagged edge left behind would be hopelessly inadequate to finish cutting the ropes!

      “No...” she moaned, and for a moment all hope left her. She was right back where she'd started from, only now there were preciously few moments left before the oil began flowing in!

 

 

Hero – Round 6, Turn 2

Access 7S, use 5S – Character Assumption: Shadowvixen said she'd learned some escape tricks from Mister Houdini (see Round 3, Hero Turn 4); between that and her martial arts skills, she can still get loose! (Moderate Impact)

 

      But the nail had done enough. The ropes had been frayed badly and were quite a bit looser around her still-gloved right wrist. If she could just work it free...!

      Shaking off her momentary despair, Jennifer turned again to her partner in peril. “Sir, I think I can get my right hand free, but you have to help. When I tell you, pull down with both your hands and with your feet as hard and as far as you can possibly reach. Understand?”

      “Yes,” Ambrose said. “Ready?”

      Jennifer took a deep breath and pulled in the thumb and pinkie finger of her right hand, reducing its circumference. “Ready – now!”

      At once, he thrust his hands straight down, pulling her own wrists towards the floor. Simultaneously, Jennifer leaned to her left and pulled up with her right arm. It was painful, but she could feel the ropes coming off her right wrist! It took only a brief moment before it popped loose. Immediately, she reached back and pulled the cords from around her left wrist, and both her hands were free to work on the rest of their bondage.

 

 

World – Round 6, Turn 3

Access 4S, use FR as a 4H – Locale, Deliberate / Adversity / Messages (High Impact)

Interpretation: An announcement is heard in the building...

 

      “Hello, Miss Sherwood and Mister Ambrose. I hope you have said your prayers by now,” the hated voice of Ernö Balog said as it came over a loudspeaker in the studio. “If not, I suggest you do so, and quickly.” He laughed evilly. “Your demise will be slow and painful indeed! May it be a lesson for anyone foolish enough to cross paths with Balog, the Butcher!”

 

 

Hero – Round 6, Turn 3

Access 5S, use 4S – Character Assumption: Her martial arts training and natural flexibility enables Jennifer to get free of her remaining ropes with ease. (Moderate Impact)

 

      Jennifer ignored her captor, her efforts wholly focused on escape. Raising her arms above her head and exhaling every ounce of breath in her lungs, she compressed her chest and wiggled fiercely, as if she was some insane belly dancer. Thanks to the silk sleeves of her gown, these actions enabled her to slip her shoulders free from the rope suspending her and Ambrose from the cage lid. She pulled her arms completely free, dropped to her knees onto the floor of the cell, and reached behind her to undo the cords around her ankles. Within two minutes, she had escaped from Balog's ropework and turned to attack Ambrose's restraints with desperate speed.

 

 

World – Round 6, Turn 4

Access 7S, use FR as 7C – Being, Mysterious / Triumph / Allies (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: The white-robed figure appears again....

 

      “Hurry, Miss Sherwood!” Ambrose urged. “We haven't much time left!”

 

      “Yes, hurry, Shadowvixen!” Jennifer heard the Voice in her head again. “You have less than a minute remaining, or your enemies will be victorious, and their alliance of evil will never be stopped!” Glancing outside with her peripheral vision, she saw the Figure just before it vanished once more.

      Suddenly, the hiss of boiling oil could be heard overhead, and a few drops splattered onto the floor of the death cell. It would only be seconds before it began pouring into the glass prison!

      “Oh God!” Ambrose cried. “It's too late!”

 

 

Hero – Round 6, Turn 4

Access 4S, use 5S, 7S – Character Assumption: This time, Jennifer uses her anticipation of trouble, her dexterity, and a trick learned from Jack Brown (Shadowvixen's African-American thief Ally from “Man on the Run”) to complete the escape in the very nick of time! (High Impact)

 

      “Never!” Jennifer cried as she tore the last of the ropes from Ambrose's wrists, leaving his feet still securely tied. Suddenly, she leaped straight up to grasp the hemp line that hung from the lid and climbed to where she could swing her legs up and sit astride his shoulders, her blue gown covering his face.

      “What are you doing?” he called in confusion and embarrassment as he lifted the silk fabric off his eyes; after all, it wasn't every day a woman put her stocking-clad thighs against his cheeks! Just then, the first streams of oil entered the chamber and began falling onto the floor.

      “Getting us out of here!” the disguised vigilantess shouted. Reaching up, she retrieved a certain hairpin from her honey-blonde tresses – one that had been specially designed and made for Shadowvixen by her friend, Jack Brown, the “thief with a heart of gold,” as she liked to call him.

      Grasping the lockpick hairpin firmly, Jennifer thrust her hands through two of the large air holes and found the padlock that held fast the chain securing the lid in place. A few twists, and the padlock popped open! Removing the lock, the crimefighting heiress pulled away the chains.

      “Sir, you're going to have to untie your chest rope, otherwise I can't open the lid because of your weight pulling it down,” she called down to the attorney general.

      “The oil is already covering the floor and rising!” he warned.

      “Your boots can take it,” Jennifer assured him. “It's our only way out!”

      Ambrose reached up behind him and, with the heroine's help, quickly undid the knot securing the chest harness. He dropped down into the three-inch-deep, bubbling, steaming oil with a splat! and at once, a burning sensation assaulted his bound feet, though the thick polished leather of his boots protected his flesh from immediate harm – at least for a few more seconds.

      Immediately, Jennifer shoved up on the lid with all her strength! The hinged lid popped open, and she thrust it back until the opening at the top was fully clear. “Come on, Mister Ambrose!” she said as she grasped the edges of the cell, taking care to avoid the scalding oil, and climbed out to drop onto the floor of the movie stage. At once, she ran to the valve to close the flow of oil into the glass coffin.

      The attorney general, grimacing from the intense heat assaulting his feet, leaped up and just managed to get hold of the top edge of the deadly container. There he hung, unable to pull himself up and out, panting from exertion and excitement and fear. Steam rose from the pool of slick boiling liquid beneath him, now six inches deep, and the fumes were strong. He began to cough from them.

      “Hold on, sir!” Jennifer called out. Then, all at once, a shattering CRASH! filled the stage building as a fire axe wielded by the youthful publisher smashed through glass panes to clear a way out for the politician. Gritting his teeth, Ambrose moved his hands along the edge of the cell until he could swing out of it without dropping into the oil again. At once, his stumbled and fell to the ground because of his immobilized legs, and he gasped in pain.

 

      Instantly, Jennifer bent with her axe and, urging him to remain still, used its blade to quickly cut through the blackened, slick cords around Ambrose's ankles. Within moments, he was freed, and both of them worked to get off his boots and socks. Thankfully, though beet-red, the candidate's feet hadn't been burned. He embraced his female ally and savior, and Jennifer returned the hug enthusiastically. They had made it! They were alive!

 

 

World – Round 6, Turn 5

Access 10H – Thing, Abstract / Activity / Dispute (Extreme Impact); use FR as any Diamond to activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Secret Identity (Low Impact)

Interpretation: Ambrose states that Jennifer's extraordinary efforts mean she can only be one person....

 

      For a long moment, they held on to each other, glad to have escaped a horrific fate. Then Ambrose broke the clinch and looked at the woman who'd risked all to help him. To Jennifer's surprise, his expression was a pained one, and it didn't come from his near-injuries.

      “What's wrong, Mister Ambrose?” she asked worriedly.

      “Oh,” he replied morosely, “I was just wondering how I'm supposed to arrest you when you've just saved my life...Shadowvixen.”

      The shock on her beautiful features would have been priceless in any other context. “You – you think that I'm...?” Jennifer gasped as she pointed to herself with her right hand, its white silk glove ruined from the dripping oil that had covered Ambrose's footwear.

      “Yes,” the state's chief prosecutor told her. “What other woman in this City could have done what you just did? Who else would have been prepared to pick locks, or move with such skill?” he asked rhetorically. “You have to be the one and only Shadowvixen, the female vigilante of such notorious reputation!” Ambrose sighed. “And that means I'm oath-bound to take you in and prosecute you – even though I owe you my life, and doing so might well mean ruining my chances of winning the election.”

      As he looked at her sadly, he wondered how Miss Sherwood could possibly convince him otherwise. He also wondered, if he was right, whether he was truly doing the right thing?

 

 

Hero – Round 6, Turn 5

Access FR as any Diamond – Detective, finds clues and makes deductions – or, in this case, refutes those of David Ambrose! (Low Impact)

 

      “Mister Ambrose,” Jennifer Sherwood challenged, “even assuming for a moment that you're correct and that I am Shadowvixen, what makes you think you can clap me in irons? You have no evidence to support your claim that could hold up in court, and you know it. Besides,” she continued more brightly, “everything you've mentioned can be explained very easily by looking up my personal history.”

      “All right,” David Ambrose replied, “what about that lockpicking ability?”

      “I learned to pick a lock years ago, when I wanted to get into my Uncle Edward's secret desk drawer. I was just ten at the time, and didn't think of the consequences – insatiable curiosity, and all that. Unfortunately, the very first time I tried it, he caught me in the act.” Jennifer gave him a rueful grin. “Rani, my housekeeper, will tell you I couldn't sit for three days afterward.”

      Her accuser chuckled. “An interesting story – if it's true. I doubt you can prove it, though.”

      She gave him a sly smile. “Perhaps not, unless you care to examine my backside for scars from the switch he used on me?” That caused the attorney general to develop a fearsome blush that threw him off-track. Desperately, he crossed his arms in front of his chest to compose himself.

      “No need for that, young lady!” he declared haughtily. “What of coming up with that idea to free yourself of your ropes?”

      “Not my idea, Mister Ambrose,” Jennifer said calmly. “Harry Houdini wrote a short manual on how to escape from handcuffs that I read after seeing his performance three years ago. I remembered one of the techniques he described in it, which he said could also be used against rope restraints. I can show you the book and exactly which technique I used, if you'd like.”

      “Hmmm,” the champion of the law murmured. He wasn't getting much traction here. “And those athletic moves of yours just now?”

      The heiress just laughed lightly. “Oh, Mister Ambrose! I've always been an athletic girl! Anyone at the party can tell you that I took first place in gymnastics at school, and I even won the City's junior woman's tennis championship in doubles, along with Pauline Marvin.”

      “The Pauline Marvin? The lady on whom The Perils of Pauline was based?” Ambrose asked in surprised amazement.

      Jennifer nodded. “She's my best friend, and has been ever since her father and Uncle Edward put us both in the same finishing school. And ever since last Saturday's attack, she's taken to calling me her 'sister in peril'!” She chuckled. “After tonight, I have to admit, it's appropriate!”

      Ambrose broke out laughing and threw up his hands in gesture of surrender. “All right, all right! I give up!” he said, apparently admitting defeat. “Maybe you aren't Shadowvixen after all. It's just as well – it'd never do to have to throw my biggest supporter in jail!”

      His biggest supporter joined in his laughter, partly to hide her relief at deflecting his suspicions. “Especially on false charges! Now, let's get out of here, shall we? I'm sure our friends are worried sick about us.” With that, the two champions of justice – one a member of the official authorities, the other a self-appointed secret vigilante – put an arm around the other and headed for an exit. After, that is, she took the record platter off of its turntable and handed it over to him as evidence for Balog's trial.

      Even so, the barefoot district attorney wasn't convinced of her story. It might well be that everything Jennifer Sherwood had told him was true. Nevertheless, it didn't absolve her of the suspicion that she was also a costumed crimefighter. A possibility that David Ambrose decided to keep to himself, for now....

 

*****

 

HERO: Well, you were right. Jennifer couldn't get away entirely with it, and now Ambrose suspects her dual identity. Well-played, World.

 

WORLD: I had Mythic in my favor there, you know that. Now, what's next?

 

HERO: I'm not sure. Will Ambrose and Jennifer get out of the studio without problems? I'll call that (Very Likely) as neither Balog nor Sorcier apparently wanted to stick around. – Yes

 

WORLD: Here's something to consider. There should have been night watchmen at the studio; did the bad guys “take care” of them? (Very Likely) – Exceptional No! (94)

 

HERO: Hmm, were there any guards at the studio at all? (Unlikely) – Yes; Okay, I guess that means everything involving the deathtrap just didn't get the guards attention.

 

WORLD: And I know why! They're on the bad guys' payroll, too!

 

HERO: In that case, they'll almost certainly flee when Ambrose contacts the police and brings them over to the studios. Or else they'll be questioned and probably detained.

 

 

WORLD: Let's find out which option happened. Did the guards take off when the police start to arrive? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes; Were they caught? (50/50) – No

 

HERO: Lucky stiffs...so, the police come to the studio, rescue our heroine and her champion, and get more evidence. Where to from there? To police headquarters? (Very Likely) – Exceptional No! (95); Really? Why not? (Complex) – Gratify / Hope

 

WORLD: I guess we both know what that means, right?

 

HERO: I think so. They'll go back to the Cunninghams' place to reassure their friends that everything is all right now. That'll give the good guys a chance to compare notes and start pulling together the final strings of this mystery.

 

WORLD: And just how is Shadowvixen going to get involved when Jennifer is stuck at the Cunningham Estate? I'm certain the police commissioner, the state district attorney, and her detective bodyguard won't want her out of her sight.

 

HERO: For this Round, maybe. We'll just have to see what happens....

* * * * *

ROUND SEVEN

 

The Cunningham Estate – 1:15 AM, Thursday, September 16th, 1915

 

      Jennifer Sherwood and David Ambrose together tiredly entered the reception hall of the Cunninghams' mansion, surrounded by a uniformed police escort. At once, the sound of applause and joyful cheers arose from their friends and supporters, most of whom had stayed to hear any news of their fate. Jennifer no longer sported her gloves and her blue silk dress was spattered here and there with oil stains, while her companion, similarly bedraggled, was at least no longer barefoot but wearing a pair of shoes borrowed from a policeman. Nonetheless, they couldn't help but smile in gratitude and appreciation for the warm welcome they received. At the front of the crowd were the hosts themselves, and Mister Edgar Cunningham stepped forward with his wife.

      “Mister Ambrose – my dear Miss Sherwood – how can I ever seek your forgiveness for what happened here tonight?” he said to them. “When we found the note from that horrible magician saying that he and Balog had absconded with you to dispose of you both, we feared the worst.”

      “Well, thankfully, as you can see, Mister Cunningham, the worst failed to come to pass,” Ambrose replied, his voice strong and confident.

      “And of course we forgive you!” Jennifer emphatically added, taking Mrs. Cunningham's hands in hers and squeezing them reassuringly. “You couldn't have known what would transpire with that mad magician. What matters is that we're both alive and well, and the police assure us that they are hot on Balog's trail!”

      “Speaking of which,” Ambrose smoothly transitioned, “Commissioner Carson came back with us and would like to discuss the matter with myself and Miss Sherwood, along with Detective Case. Is there someplace private we might use?”

      The shipping magnate nodded. “Of course! My study is at your disposal, and please feel free to help yourselves to the spirit cabinet if you desire! Anything I can possibly do to make up for tonight, you have only to name,” he told Ambose.

      “In that case, Mister Cunningham, may I borrow your telephone?” asked Jennifer. “I'm sure the news of my disappearance has reached Masterson Manor, and I'd like to reassure my staff that I'm all right.”

      “Certainly, Jennifer,” said Mrs. Cunningham, who took the heiress over to a call box they had installed for private calls by guests of theirs. Thanking her, the distaff publisher stepped inside and closed the door while her hostess went back to arrange the orderly departure of her other guests, who, now that the crisis was over, were ready to head back home themselves. Jennifer was soon connected to the manor, and at once Mitsuru picked up the receiver.

      “Jennifer!” he nearly shouted in relief. “Thank heaven! Where are you?!”

      “Back at the Cunninghams'. Balog nearly got both myself and Ambrose, but we managed to escape,” she assured him. “Now listen! There's something I need you to do for me, at once....”

      A few moments later, she stepped out of the call box and found her driver, Adam Forester, waiting. “Are you all right, Miss?” he asked anxiously. “Shall I take you home now?”

      Jennifer smiled reassuringly but shook her head. “No, Adam. I need to stay here for a while longer, and give a proper deposition to the authorities about what happened. But I do need you to head back to the manor now. Mister Kurosawa will be waiting for you with instructions.”

----------

      After saying farewells and expressions of thanks to several well-wishers in the mansion's lobby, Jennifer was shown into the study and the Cunninghams' butler closed the door securely behind her. Inside was David Ambrose, sitting in a chair with a mostly-empty glass of brandy in his left hand, his mask of confidence replaced by a face that exhibited a mixture of exhaustion, stress, and deep concern. With him were two other men. One of them was Simon Case, and the detective wore an extremely chastened expression lined with worry as he sat in another chair. Between them was Frank Carson, commissioner of the City Metropolitan Police, a surprisingly short man of fifty-one who nevertheless had earned a sterling reputation for thirty years as an honest and effective police officer, rising up through the ranks to the high position he now held. Unlike most City officials, he owed his position not to the patronage of Mayor Vaughn but to his competence and the confidence the citizenry had in him. Now he turned a baleful eye upon the young woman standing before him.

      “Miss Sherwood, you and Mister Case were under my directive to, quote, 'take no action to endanger yourself.' Please tell me just what part of that did you not understand?” he asked ominously. Jennifer couldn't help but swallow a small lump in her throat at his tone.

      “I'm sorry, commissioner,” she said in a small voice, “but I was concerned about Mister Ambrose being in that illusion. I feared something might go amiss.”

      Carson raised an eyebrow. “And you thought you should take it upon yourself to protect him?” he retorted scathingly. “Did it ever occur to you – or you, Ambrose – that the entire purpose of that trick was to bait you into a deathtrap?”

      Jennifer cast down her eyes and shook her head mutely. “Oh, don't be so hard on her, Frank,” the candidate said. “If it weren't for Miss Sherwood's quick thinking, I'd be dead now, and you'd have had an even worse time explaining things to the press!”

      “Don't remind me,” Carson sighed, putting his hand to his brow; this was going to be enough of a stink in tomorrow's papers as it was. He then gave the other man in the room an evil eye. “And you were supposed to be her bodyguard, Case! I ought to bust you back to being just a beat patrolman for this!” The detective's hangdog expression only deepened; he could find nothing to say in response. Thankfully for him, though, the woman he was responsible for protecting – the woman who was also secretly his ally in crimefighting – immediately came to his support.

     

      “Commissioner, Mister Case was doing his duty by questioning the staff here about that letter I received from Balog tonight,” Jennifer protested. “I was in the midst of a party of friends whom I all knew personally, apart from Mister Ambrose and the magician. Mrs. Cunningham told me there was extra security here, and I thought myself perfectly safe. I told him it would be all right for him to leave me for a short while to go do his investigation. If anyone here is at fault, it is me – and I take full responsibility for it! I must insist that Mister Case not face any disciplinary action because of my actions and decisions.”

      Carson looked at her sternly. “And that attitude of yours, Miss Sherwood, is precisely the reason I had appointed Case in the first place – to stop you from doing something stupid like that!” he told her. The head of the Metropolitan Police glared at the heiress as if he wanted to bore holes in her, and Jennifer had the good grace to look a bit abashed, but she didn't back down. Finally, he sighed and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “All right, all right,” he said. “Case, you'll get a formal reprimand on your record, but nothing else. But I expect you to stay glued to Sherwood from this moment on, every moment of every day, and not let her out of your sight for even an instant! Understood?”

      The detective got to his feet at once. “Yes, sir! I fully understand, sir!” he barked like a cadet.

      Jennifer eyed the two men back and forth for a moment. “Well...I guess that means I'll have to get used to having a man in my bed for a change,” she finally said in an absolutely dead-pan voice.

      It took two full minutes for the blushes to fade from Carson's and Case's visages, and just as long for Ambrose to stop howling with laughter.

 

 

ROUND SEVEN TABLEAU:  3D, 2C, 2H, 7C, AD

 

(as before, the Cunningham Estate is a Spontaneous Location; all conflict list entries generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 7, Turn 1

Access 3D – See entry for Round 5, World Turn 1: Balog's threatening letter to Jennifer. (Low Impact)

 

What about it is proving a challenge? (Complex) – Work Hard / Leadership

Interpretation: Despite everything they try, none of the police officials are able to gain a clue from the note.

 

      Once the mirth and embarrassment died away, the three lawmen turned their attention to the evidence in the case, starting with the note that Balog had sent to the Cunningham estate to be given to Jennifer. Case explained that he'd questioned the staff as to how and when the letter arrived, but all of their answers had been innocuous and indicated none of them knew who had sent it. The envelope and note itself was examined closely through magnifying glasses and with naked sight, looking for any kind of clue that might tip them to something that would advance their investigation. At last, though, Ambrose had to sigh and fling the paper onto the table in frustration.

      “Nothing! Not a single blasted clue! What a waste of time that was,” he said bitterly.

 

 

Hero – Round 7, Turn 1

Access 3D, use 2D – Shadowvixen, Detective (Moderate Impact)

 

 

      “Might I see it again, please?” Jennifer asked from her seat, putting down her glass of white wine. “Perhaps there is something there, after all, that you gentlemen are missing. Something that requires a woman's perspective to see,” she said with a gentle smile to soften the implied criticism.

      “Miss Sherwood,” Carson began frostily, “this is a professional investigation into a serious crime! I have no intention of – ”

      “Wait, Frank,” Ambrose interrupted. “Miss Sherwood may have a point. Let her see it,” he recommended, giving the youthful woman a glance that mixed both curiosity and suspicion. Jennifer caught that glance and realized that the candidate hadn't given up the idea that she was much more than just a suffragist socialite. She would have to tread carefully now....

      Scowling, the commissioner gave her the typewritten note that had foretold that night's evil deeds. Jennifer took it with a polite nod of thanks to Carson, and began to look it over with a look of idle concentration. In fact, it was a carefully staged act; the disguised vigilantess knew full well that Ambrose suspected her of being Shadowvixen, and it wouldn't do to lend that idea any credence. Yet she needed to examine this paper! Surely, there must be a clue in it, something that, as she said, the others had overlooked.

      So she lounged back in her chair to look it over, frowning in apparent consternation, while behind her brilliant blue eyes a keen investigator's mind worked swiftly. And as it did, the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.

      Both the note and the envelope, she realized, were of the same type as another recent missive she'd received; namely, the letter from Mayor Vaughn that had urged her to give up holding the convention! Moreover, the language of the letter was odd; its turns of phrase, the vocabulary used, didn't sound like anything Balog said in his own speech mannerisms. And since when did Balog – never a formally educated man – learn how to type?

      Jennifer's inner detective thus quickly came to an all-important conclusion: the note hadn't been written by Balog at all, but by another person – almost certainly the “patron” he'd mentioned to Sorcier. A patron that was willing to hire a sadistic killer to destroy her in order to stop the progressives' convention and the election of David Ambrose. Someone connected, in some way, to the Mayor's office!

      Most of this, though, she kept to herself. Instead, Jennifer sighed and returned the papers to her political champion. “I'm sorry, Mister Ambrose, but the only thing I can offer is that it seems odd that Balog would type such a note. My reporters' research into his past crimes indicated all of his previous warnings were handwritten,” she said disappointedly. Let them make of that what they will, the secret heroine thought to herself.

 

 

World – Round 7, Turn 2

Access 7C – Thing, Abstract / Passion / Dispute (High Impact); use the 2H to activate Shadowvixen's Disadvantage: Second-Class Citizen – as a woman, faces prejudice (Low Impact)

Interpretation: Jennifer's suggestion sparks a heated argument, leading to a scandalous accusation!

 

      “Nonsense!” Carson retorted. “He could have easily learned how to type at some point. The man's not stupid, Miss Sherwood,” implying that she might be, “and with a typewritten letter, it is easy to deny the authorship.”

      Just as Mayor Vaughn said in his letter, Jennifer recalled....

      “Wait, sir,” Simon Case spoke up. “I think Miss Sherwood might be on to something here! After all, Balog's reputation is based on the fear and revulsion he's generated with his evil deeds. Wouldn't he therefore want his victim to know in advance that he was stalking her? If so, then he shouldn't type-write the note! He should just write it out, and let his distinctive scribbling identify himself without any shred of doubt as to its authenticity,” the detective finished.

      “Case has a point there, Frank,” Ambrose remarked.

      “Then why didn't he leave a 'scribbling' of his the first time, at Masterson Manor?” Carson challenged. “We already know it was another Hungarian who wrote that one, not Balog.”

      “Because he was trying to operate secretly then,” the district attorney answered. “Remember, no one knew yet that he'd taken over The Shaded Oaks. We would certainly have suspected something was wrong if, all of a sudden, one of his trademark notes appeared at the scene of a crime.”      

      “But neither Miss Sherwood nor any of her staff had ever heard Balog's voice before,” added Case, “so making a phone call to the manor wouldn't pose as much risk to him.”

      “Assuming it was even Balog who called,” Carson remarked.

      Jennifer stiffened in response. “It was most certainly Balog's voice, Commissioner,” she insisted. “I recognized his voice tonight as being the same as the one I heard over the phone last Saturday week!”

      “Really?” the head of the Metropolitan Police asked her with a sneer. “All we have is your word on that, Miss Sherwood. And the more I think about it, the stranger this all becomes. Why should Balog risk his secret takeover of the sanitarium to assault you? Why his insistence on you giving up your convention, when he's never been interested in politics in the least? Why is it he's never been found yet – as if someone might be hiding him?”

      “He did mention he and Sorcier had a patron, one that paid him thousands,” Ambrose recalled. “I'm sure that was picked up by the phonograph recording, in fact.”

      “Did he? I'm not surprised,” Carson told him as he held Jennifer in a cold gaze.

      “Commissioner? Just what are you driving at?” Case asked in concerned confusion.

      His superior crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full 5'4” height, continuing to give Jennifer his full attention. “I don't know if you read Detective Franklin's report on the original Masterson Manor incident, Case,” Carson said, “but he concluded it with a personal observation that the entire event came on the heels of Miss Sherwood's organizing of her convention. Suspiciously so, in fact. He suggested the entire thing was fabricated for the purpose of raising publicity and sympathy for the progressives' meeting – and I'm starting to think he's right! All of this has been nothing but a ploy to gain support for both herself and for Ambrose's campaign!”

      Ambrose's eyes bulged. “You think she's Balog's patron?!?” he exclaimed disbelievingly.

      Jennifer launched herself up from her chair with explosive fury. “How DARE you accuse me of such a thing!” she yelled. “As if I would have anything to do with that horrid man, much less be the person behind his actions! Such a thing stands against all that I and my dear uncle have ever believed in!”

      “Commissioner Carson!” Case protested. “You can't be serious!”

      “Why not?” the commissioner retorted in angry challenge. “How else would Balog have known how to sabotage the ceiling around the chandelier? Or known where to station the sniper? Or left her bonds just loose enough, and given her the tools, to allow her to escape the trap and save Ambrose – with all the attendant publicity in the morning papers?” Carson gave her his most accusing look. “It'd be just like a meddlesome, trouble-stirring woman as Sherwood to come up with such a conniving plan as that!”

 

 

Hero – Round 7, Turn 2

Access AD, use 3D – Ally in Diamonds: SIMON CASE, Shadowvixen's friend on the force, uses critical evidence of Jennifer's to make a startling accusation of his own! (Moderate Impact)

 

      The publisher of the City Town Crier strode forward, her blue eyes blazing with righteous indignation, but David Ambrose rose at once to block her path and restrain her by the shoulders.

      “Let me at him, Mister Ambrose!” she seethed, staring such daggers into the commissioner that he couldn't help but retreat a step with fear in his expression.

      “No, Miss Sherwood,” he told her firmly. “Lay a hand on Carson and we'll have no choice but to arrest you for assaulting a police official. I don't think you want to have that happen, do you?”

      For a long moment, her breasts heaving as pure anger surged through her veins, Jennifer nearly gave in to the impulse to toss Ambrose aside anyway and beat the living hell out of the misogynist who'd so wrongly and savagely accused her. But the attorney general was right, she knew, as she finally began to calm down – just as she knew she had a final trump card up her metaphorical sleeve to counter Carson's hideous charge.

      Just then, the door to the study opened, and Edgar Cunningham stepped into the room. “I'm very sorry to intrude, gentlemen,” he said with a cautious note in his voice, “but Miss Sherwood's driver just returned with this envelope for her from her home. He said she'd asked that it be brought here, as it bears on your case.”

      Jennifer smiled viciously to herself. What perfect timing! Thank you, Adam! she thought. Turning around and shrugging off Ambrose's hands from her shoulders, she walked to Cunningham and took the envelope from his hand. “Thank you, Mister Cunningham. Please, remain here while we discuss this. I think I'd like a witness to what happens next,” she clarified for him as she turned her head to give Carson a savage glare.

      “This is an official – ” Carson began to retort, but Ambrose cut him off.

      “After what you just said, this is nothing of the sort, Carson,” he said sternly. “And this is our host! We can hardly keep him out of his own study, for heaven's sake.”

      Jennifer nodded her thanks and walked back to the table, taking care to place herself opposite Carson and with Ambrose and Case on either side. She removed the contents of the envelope and placed both the typed sheet of paper and the envelope itself upon the table, with Balog's note of that night next to them.

      “Now, gentlemen, what you see here is a letter that arrived at Masterson Manor on the 4^th of this month, mere hours before the incidents there that began this whole affair. I haven't brought it to the attention of the police before, since it seemed then to have no direct relation to the incident and it involves a very highly-placed person in our fair City,” she told them.

      “Mayor Vaughn himself,” Case noted in surprise.

      “I can't say that for certain,” Jennifer cautioned. “The author's postscript has a point, after all, just as Mister Carson commented a few minutes ago. But as I reflected on events on the way here from the Kasem Studios, I thought it might be time to bring it to your consideration as possible evidence in the case.”

      “Evidence!” Carson snorted derisively. “More like added material for your publicity campaign, Sherwood!”

      The youthful heiress just gave him another irritated look; little did he suspect that Shadowvixen was right now playing the longest shot of her crimefighting career! Nevertheless, her detective's reasoning and her woman's intuition alike told her it was worth playing. She pointed to the side-by-side envelopes and their enclosures.

      “First of all, you'll note that the postmarks are from the same post office in The City – a location in the downtown area near City Hall, to be precise. Now, will you mind picking up the letters, Mister Ambrose, and compare their texture and watermarks?”

      The state's chief prosecutor did so, and within seconds announced his conclusion. “They're the same paper, all right – exactly the same, in all respects.”

      “Meaning that Balog had access to the mayor's stationery,” Case suggested.

      “Nonsense!” Carson said angrily. “That same kind of paper is used by several City offices, not just the mayor's – as well as by any number of companies and persons in The City, including this woman, in all likelihood!” he added, pointing at Jennifer. “This proves nothing!”

 

      “By itself, true,” the accused publisher continued. “But now, Mister Case, take a close look at the typing in both letters. Do you notice anything unusual about it, by chance?” she asked with a mixture of curiosity and hope.

      The detective took the papers from Ambrose and did as she bade. He held them underneath a nearby lamp to see more clearly, and also used the magnifying glass he always carried. “Hmm...typical typeface, not much to distinguish – wait!” Case said as he looked more closely. “There are some common defects in the type. The l's have part of their base missing, the top of each lowercase s is slightly open, and the loops of the p's are also damaged. And both letters have these defects!”

      “Meaning they were written with the same machine!” Ambrose noted correctly.

      “Probably Sherwood's,” Carson said scathingly, refusing to give up.

      “No sir!” Case said excitedly as he turned around to look directly at the head of the police force. “I can remember seeing these kinds of defects before, on several memorandums I've read back at police headquarters!”

      Jennifer leaned forward, her brilliant eyes lighting up as her long shot paid off. She'd also seen the same things in Balog's note tonight, and recalled that Vaughn's note from twelve days ago had displayed the same mechanical flaws. It had been her desperate hope that maybe either Case or Carson might recognize them, as well. “You know who wrote these, then? And that they came from City Hall?” she exclaimed. Carson and Ambrose both tensed up at what the detective might say next.

      Case hesitated; he knew he was about to blow this case wide open. “I can't say who wrote them for certain,” he told her. “All I can say is that the typewriting here matches that on memorandums that have crossed the detectives' desks before – from Commissioner Carson's office!”

 

 

World – Round 7, Turn 3

Access AD – Being, Aggressive / Stop / Wishes (Low Impact)

Interpretation: Carson, exposed, tries to bring this investigation to a violent close.

 

      In a moment that would be forever vivid in the memories of everyone present, those in the Cunningham study froze in place, absolutely shocked by what Case had just said.

      Suddenly, Carson whipped out a gun from a coat pocket and aimed it at Simon Case!

 

 

Hero – Round 7, Turn 3

Access 2C, use 7C – Character Assumption: Her training has left Shadowvixen as strong as most men, and she knows how to use it! (Moderate Impact)

 

      Jennifer immediately flashed out her hands and, her strength overpowering his, wrenched Carson's gun arm up so that the shot went into the ceiling instead! She then held it in place as Ambrose and Case moved to disarm the commissioner, while Edgar Cunningham ran out to fetch the uniformed police and the Pinkertons who still remained on the premises.

 

 

World – Round 7, Turn 4

Access 2H, use 2C – Locale, Deliberate / Control / Leadership (Moderate Impact)

Interpretation: Something in the study is found to have Carson under its control!

 

Who finds the thing? (roll 1d3, 1=Jennifer, 2=Ambrose, 3=Case) – 3

Was it on Carson's person? (A Near Sure Thing) – Yes

Hmm...is it an electronic device, perhaps? (Somewhat Likely) – Yes

      As Jennifer, Ambrose and Case wrestled with the older Carson – who was fighting with demonic strength, beyond that of a normal man of his size and age – the detective noticed something even more odd. There appeared to be a small disc seemingly embedded into Carson's head, right behind his left ear! On sudden impulse, Case took his commissioner in a choke hold with his right arm to immobilize his head, then used his left hand to lock his fingers around the disc and yank it off.

      At once, Carson yelled and went limp in Case's arms. He dragged his superior to a nearby chair and sat him in it, while Jennifer and Ambrose – who had disarmed Carson and held the commissioner's gun in his hand – looked on in wonder. “What happened?” Ambrose asked, panting from the exertion.

      “I...don't know,” Case admitted. “I saw this,” he said, holding out the disc with protruding wires in his hand for them to see, “attached to the commissioner's head, and thought it might have something to do with...well, everything.”

      Just then, Carson groaned and came to groggily. He looked about at them for a moment in confusion – then closed his eyes and began weeping.

      “Thank...thank you, Case,” he sobbed. “I knew what I was saying...what I was doing...but I couldn't help myself. Some...someone else was using me to do and say those things, to write those letters, and...I couldn't stop myself. It...it was as if I was watching a moving picture at the theater, only I was in it.” He looked up at Jennifer. “Please...please forgive me, Miss Sherwood. The words I said to you were not mine, but another's – the fiend who did this to me with that,” he said with a weak gesture at the disc in Case's hand.

      “Who?” Ambrose demanded. “Who did this to you, Frank? Balog?”

      “No, not him. I...I don't know who he was. In fact, I can't remember anything about him now except...that he had a metal hand.”

      Jennifer couldn't suppress the cold shiver that went down her back at that moment.

 

 

Hero – Round 7, Turn 4

Access 7C – Shadowvixen, Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      The disguised vigilantess shook off the confirmation that Doctor Xavier Matthews – the master villain known as “The Torturer” – still lived and was back at his work. Right now, there was something else that needed immediate attention. She stepped forward and sank to her knees to look up into Carson's eyes, taking one of his hands in both of hers.

      “I believe you, Commissioner,” Jennifer told him reassuringly, her lovely face and voice reflecting the concern for her fellow man that lay at the heart of her being, both its public and secret sides. “You have too much history as an honest man and an officer of the law to have done this willingly. So I forgive you, Mister Carson. And I know you'll catch those responsible for all of this!”

 

 

World – Round 7, Turn 5

Access 2C, use 2H – See entry above for Turn 4 (Moderate Impact)

 

How is the device posing a challenge now? (Complex) – Abuse / Power

Interpretation: What else with this combination? A short-circuit that destroys the evidence!

 

      Suddenly, Case let out a cry as the disk in his hand suddenly got very hot! Dropping it, he was just in time to see it burst into flames! Within seconds, it had incinerated itself, leaving nothing behind to indicate what it was except for charred wire and melted slag that would have to be pried off the wooden floor of the study with a crowbar.

     

      “Well, there goes any evidence we might have used to track this villain,” Ambrose sighed while Case went out to get some ice for his slightly burned hand. Jennifer nodded and laid her head wearily against Carson's knees as she sank to the floor. As if this mystery wasn't already evil enough, now she had Matthews to deal with too, apparently! And she had not a single lead to go on to try and stop him!

 

 

Hero – Round 7, Turn 5

Access 2H – Character Assumption: Jennifer's “woman's intuition” comes into play again. (Low Impact)

 

      As she thought about it all, her eyes wanting to close on their own after a long night's events, a sudden inspiration struck Jennifer, as it sometimes did. She'd come to the conclusion that Mayor Vaughn, or at least one of his lackeys, was in alliance with Balog and Sorcier. But with tonight's revelations, a new possibility emerged – the worst one of all. Might Cyril Vaughn also be in the mind-control grip of The Torturer? And might the villain be simply using both the mayor and Balog for his own ends, neither of them aware of it?

      If that was the case, then there was precious little time to spare. The progressives' convention was little more than 32 hours away, and the vision of their meeting hall exploding – that and the other horrid dreams being another gift of Matthews, she realized now – filled Jennifer with dread. If a disaster was to be averted, then there was nothing more that the publisher of the City Town Crier could do.

      It was time for Shadowvixen to bring this case to an end, once and for all!

 

 

*****

 

ROUND EIGHT

 

At the Cunningham Estate – 2:30 AM

 

      Jennifer Sherwood exited the front doors of the Cunninghams' mansion with Simon Case beside her. All the other guests of the evening had left, including David Ambrose and police commissioner Frank Carson, who had decided to go to City Hall and follow up on the typewriting lead that she had discovered and shared with them an hour earlier, taking most of the police officers at the estate with them. The Pinkerton security detail had been dismissed, and a quiet had finally descended upon the place. The heiress and her bodyguard stood at the bottom of the stairs leading down to the front drive, waiting for her driver and their police escort to bring the limousine around to pick them up and return them to Jennifer's home.

      “What a lousy night,” Case muttered softly with a shake of his head, before remembering that the woman beside him had endured far worse this evening. “Sorry, Miss Sherwood. I didn't mean...”

      Jennifer looked over at him and gave the detective a wan smile. “I know you didn't, Mister Case. It's quite alright,” she assured him, then added wryly, “Besides, it's not over yet.”

      “Well, once we're back at Masterson Manor, at least you'll be able to get some rest tomorrow and put this behind you,” he offered.

      To his surprise, she shook her head grimly. “No, Simon,” she told him in a low voice – a much different voice than what he'd ever heard her speak before, yet so very familiar to him. “I can't be a prisoner at the manor any longer. If we're to stop Balog and the person behind him, I have to have the freedom to track them down – tonight, before the convention.” She looked at him with brilliant blue eyes in a stern gaze. “I can only hope you'll understand...and help me, as you've done so often before.”

 

      Simon Case looked at her with bulging eyes, struck mute for a few seconds by the shock of disbelief. Finally, he managed to get his mouth to whisper, “Shadowvixen?!”

      Jennifer nodded, once. “Yes, it's me,” she whispered back, “and now you know a secret that I have confided to only three other persons before. Unfortunately, Mister Ambrose suspects the connection between my dual identities, and I dare not give him any reason to confirm those suspicions. So I have to have your cooperation – to work with my housekeepers to maintain the illusion that Jennifer Sherwood is safe and sound at her home, albeit confined to her bed on pretext of nervous exhaustion, while Shadowvixen is out doing her work. I realize I'm placing you in a difficult position, Simon; but will you help me – please?” she pleaded softly.

      Case didn't hesitate in replying.

      “Of course I'll help!” he told her in an earnest but equally quiet voice. “There's a need for people like you to handle problems like these; I've long recognized that fact. I just wish I could go with you.”

      “Well,” the incognito vigilantess admitted, “I may yet need you to come to my rescue! You see, there's one final link in this chain of mystery that needs to be checked – Mayor Vaughn. Remember, it was his stationery and name that was first used to try to intimidate me into calling off the meeting. So I intend to pay the mayor's home a visit before this night is through. There, I hope to find the final clues to bring Balog and his patron to justice!”

      She didn't tell him that the heinous Hungarian's patron might well be the most dangerous man in the entire City – and that trying to confront him might finally cost her her life....

 

 

ROUND EIGHT TABLEAU:  FB (Black Joker), 10C, 9S, 7H, 9H

 

(Mayor Vaughn's home is a Spontaneous Location; all conflict entries will be generated by Mythic)

 

 

World – Round 8, Turn 1

Access FB as 8S – Being, Aggressive / Carry / Jealousy (High Impact)

Interpretation: At Cyril Vaughn's house, someone is harboring strong feelings of anger and jealousy towards another....

 

Question: Is it Mayor Vaughn who's jealous? (Very Likely) – Yes

Is he jealous towards Jennifer? (Very Likely) – Yes

Is she the only one that Vaughn is jealous of? (Unlikely) – Yes

Is Vaughn alone in the house? (50/50) – No

Who else is with him? (Complex) – Vengeance / Suffering*

Interpretation: Oh my! Both Balog and The Torturer are with him!

 

 

The Residence of Mayor Cyril Vaughn, 100 Union Park Lane – 3:50 AM

 

      Amid a row of stately upper middle class homes in and near Liberty Square, across from Union Park's pavilions and gardens, stood the residence of Mister Cyril Vaughn, the incumbent mayor of The City. A light fog had developed in the early morning hours, swirling about the empty streets that nonetheless lay illuminated by dimmed electric street lights. Elsewhere, all else was dark, for the moon had set – save for one bright light of a window in the Vaughn house, two stories above the lane below.

      Had anyone chanced to wander by to see, they would have wondered what might be keeping the City's chief official up at this hour.

      And they would have been shocked and horrified to learn the truth.

----------

      “Yes...yes, I see. Of course, I'll take every precaution. Thank you, Commissioner Carson. Goodnight.” The balding, mustached man in his burgundy dressing gown, pajamas and slippers put down the telephone and placed the earpiece in its hook with calm, careful precision. Then he finally let his veneer of control drop as he snarled words that angered him to his bitter core. “Sherwood's alive! And so is Ambrose!”

      He turned to the two other men present in this, his library. They were the only two others in the house at the moment – Vaughn was a widower, and he had dismissed his servants for the night, wanting to have time alone. They hadn't objected or raised any suspicions at this, for they knew the mayor desired the occasional “dalliance” with a fair lady without others in the building. On this occasion, though, his visitors were far more secretive still – and infinitely more deadly.

      Ernö Balog's eyes grew wide in disbelief at Vaughn's comment. “Impossible! There was no way either of them could have escaped my trap!” he insisted in his deep Hungarian accent.

      “Yet they live, according to Carson – and worse, they think you're somehow mixed up with City Hall, thanks to those typed letters,” Vaughn retorted. He raged about the book-lined room. “This is all the fault of that meddlesome woman! First her convention gets the progressives ginned up to help Ambrose. Then, she has the luck to avoid getting killed, which puts her efforts in the papers in the most favorable light. Then, she escapes and saves Ambrose in the process, which will make The City sympathize with both of them all the more! That damned suffragette is stealing every bit of political support there is to be had!” He stopped and faced the other two figures in the room. “And you two supposed villains can't even stop her or Carson! They found that little mind mesmerizer of yours on him and destroyed it, Matthews!” Vaughn accused.

      From his chair, Doctor Xavier Matthews calmly took a sip of dark wine and set his glass down upon a nearby table. “You should calm yourself, my dear Mister Mayor,” he said soothingly to the politician. “It's not good for your health, after all.”

      Vaughn's eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

      The Torturer grinned. “Given who and what I am, I'm not surprised you'd consider it such,” he remarked with wry humor. “Rest assured, sir, I would much rather keep you alive and well, since you are well disposed to further my own ambitions while advancing your own.”

      The overweight mayor gave a terrific snort of cynicism. “That, Matthews, presumes I can still keep my job! Which, no thanks to you and Balog, I might well not be able to do much longer! I can't believe that stuck-up, insufferable female is going to bring me down!”

      “She will not!” Balog insisted. “There remain our plans for the convention hall. When it is destroyed – ”

      “Forget it, Balog,” Vaughn told him. “Sherwood supposedly got a 'vision' of that happening, and told Carson about it. He'll have every explosives expert within fifty miles here by morning to go over every inch of that place. And have sharpshooters on the roof and streets cordoned off.”

      “It will not avail them any,” Matthews told him smoothly. “Balog's man was able to test my disintegration ray most effectively at Miss Sherwood's residence. Using it, we may undermine the very foundations of the hall at the proper time, ending the progressives' utopian efforts – and, quite probably, Mister Ambrose's and Miss Sherwood's lives in the process.” He reached for his wine glass once more. “And once your opposition has been removed, and your own innocence in the matter well and truly proven – for Balog will leave no doubts as to his own complicity, before I spirit him out of the country – you will be re-elected with ease...and our little alliance of mutual convenience will profit handsomely in the years to come.”

 

Hero – Round 8, Turn 1

Access 10C – Shadowvixen, Attractive Presence (Low Impact)

 

      “Forgive me, Doctor Matthews, if I disagree with your assessment!”

      With those words, the door to the mayor's library was kicked in forcefully, revealing a woman in a black leotard, her gloves, boots, and hooded cloak equally dark, a black fox's mask surrounding her flaming blue eyes while honey-blonde hair spilled about her shoulders. A pair of .45 caliber semiautomatics were in her hands, pointed at the men in the room.

      “Mayor Vaughn, I hereby place you under citizens' arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, and for harboring two of the most wanted criminals in the entire state! Hands up, all of you!”

 

 

World – Round 8, Turn 2

Access 9S, use 9H – Locale, Deliberate / Decrease / Environment (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: The lights go out, and the villains take action!

 

      Balog, standing closest to the door, reacted instantly.

 

      He reached out with a flashing hand to hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness! The sudden loss of illumination would certainly place the heroine at a terrible disadvantage, facing three men determined to end her existence – and none moreso than the “Butcher from Buda”, who desired nothing more than to redeem his earlier failures by wringing the life from the woman who'd exposed his criminal takeover of the Shaded Oaks Sanitarium.

      With terrible and surprising speed for a man his size, he lunged for the young woman and his huge hands found her neck, ready to snap it in two! Hungrily, he smiled savagely in the darkness as he squeezed!

 

 

Hero – Round 8, Turn 2

Access 9S, use FB as another Spade – Gunslinger, uses her guns in both hands (Moderate Impact)

 

      At once, Shadowvixen pulled the triggers of her weapon, and at such close quarters she could hardly miss. Instantly, the booming sound of the M1911's reverberated throughout the residence, and their bullets slammed into Balog! He roared in pain as the slugs tore into and through his chest, and the sadistic killer released his hold on the vigilantess' throat as he fell back onto the floor of the darkened room. He was wounded, but how badly was anyone's guess.

      Gasping from the near-death experience, Shadowvixen stepped back out of the doorway and into the benighted corridor, blinking tears from her eyes and desperately seeking maneuvering room as her pistols automatically chambered the next rounds to be fired....

 

 

World – Round 8, Turn 3

Access 7H, use FB as another 7H – Thing, Concrete / Abandon / Food (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: Matthews takes advantage of what's available.

 

      In the darkness, The Torturer had taken up a bottle of brandy that stood on Vaughn's nearby desk. The mayor had been drinking the liquor earlier, and had left it open to breathe; now, it provided the fiend with a handy weapon against his sworn enemy.

 

      Taking out a handkerchief, he quickly stuffed one end of it into the mouth of the bottle until it reached the alcoholic liquid inside. Then, from a lit cigar he'd been smoking, he touched its fiery end to the cloth until it caught on fire. Going to the doorway cautiously, he reached out and flung the brandy bottle at Shadowvixen!

      This time, the villain got lucky. Though tossing it almost blindly, his improvised weapon landed squarely at the heroine's feet. As it broke open, its contents spilled out and caught on fire, spreading about her and igniting her cloak. In moments, it would spread to cover her entire body!

 

 

Hero – Round 8, Turn 3

Access 7H, use 9H and FB as another Heart – Character Assumption: Shadowvixen, despite a horrible danger, has the experience and training to keep her cool and take the necessary action to prevent herself from being seriously harmed (High Impact)

 

      At once, the daredevil damsel acted to save herself. She leaped back from the flames about her to a clear area, then quickly holstered one of her guns in order to free her left hand to undo the clasp about her cloak. In an instant, it dropped to the floor and she kicked it towards the fiery pool of liquor on the floor. The heavy fabric covered it entirely and smothered the flames, rendering them no longer a danger. Her legs had gotten a bit singed, stinging from first-degree burns, but it was nothing terribly serious to worry about.

      “You'll have to do better than that to get me, Matthews!” Shadowvixen called out to her nemesis, ignoring the pain. “I haven't forgotten what you've done, and tonight you pay for your crimes!”

 

 

World – Round 8, Turn 4

Access 9H, use 9S – See above entry for Turn 2 (Extreme Impact)

 

How is the darkness proving a problem now? (Complex) – Transform / Suffering

Interpretation: Matthews is somehow turning it into another illusion of torment!

 

      “Oh, my dear vixen,” cooed The Torturer sweetly. “How can you hope to defeat me, when the very cloak of night that was once your ally becomes your deadliest enemy?”

      All at once, Shadowvixen was assaulted by a haunting, overwhelming fear – the fear of the dark, a fear that had consumed her in childhood in the aftermath of her parents' deaths. She found herself transported back to her youngest memories, crying in the night, afraid of the blackness around her that would overwhelm and erase her from existence, as it had for Steven and Margaret Sherwood all those years ago. So powerful were those memories, and the terror it brought back, that the distaff crimefighter stood paralyzed with utter despair – seemingly helpless in the grip of her enemy's power!

 

 

Hero – World 8, Turn 4

Access 9H, use 7H and FB as another Heart – Character Assumption: Shadowvixen, though, as a vigilante of the night, views the darkness as her friend, something that gives her an edge over her opponents, and this allows her to defeat Matthews' attempt to incapacitate her. (High Impact)

 

      But deep down, in the innermost part of her soul, Shadowvixen understood that this was but another of Xavier Matthews' illusions, meant to demoralize and break down his victim's will. Yet she was made of sterner stuff and had learned from what he had done to her before now.

 

      “No,” she whispered as she overcame his manipulative devices and beat back the suffocating emotion of despair. “You're mistaken, Torturer. The night isn't just my ally. I am the Night. And it can never betray me like this!”

      Like that, her focus once more sharpened to the present, the distaff crimefighter moved forward. She still felt a cold fear lingering, as if it was a chill in the air about her, but she would not let it deter her. It was time to end the career of these villains, once and for all!

 

 

World – Round 8, Turn 5

Access 10C – Thing, Concrete / Deceive / Environment (Extreme Impact)

Interpretation: But Matthews has one final electronic trick up his sleeve...

 

      Realizing that Shadowvixen was unconquered and coming for him with justice in her eyes, her nemesis knew it was time to play his own final trick. He reached for the belt and opened the buckle, turning a hidden knob inside it to the right.

      Suddenly, the City's resident female vigilante found herself facing not one, or two, but five images of The Torturer, who rushed out from the library in to the hallway! From all five mouths came a taunting remark. “You will not be able to stop me, my pretty vixen – or at least, not the right me! Whereas I shall most certainly stop you!” Then, with a sinister laugh, the figures drew long knives in both hands, and charged right at her! With only one gun in her hand, she realized he was right – she couldn't stop all of them in time to keep them from killing her!

      Shadowvixen was about to die a horrible, bloody death!

 

 

Hero – Round 8, Turn 5

Access FB as QS – Special FX: Sure Shot, can fire her guns with amazing accuracy. (Extreme Impact)

 

      But then, as Matthews had just said, she didn't need to stop all of them – just the right one.

      Trusting every sense she possessed, rational and otherwise, she let herself be guided to the true target – the one genuinely real person amid the false images.

      And, raising the gun still in her right hand, she took dead aim and fired, hitting him squarely between the eyes.

      All five 'Matthews' staggered and fell back, dropping their weapons as they did – but only from one of them did there come a heavy thud, and the clatter of knives falling onto the floor, as the human being wearing the hallucinatory belt died with a bullet through his brain.

      For a long moment, Shadowvixen stood gasping, not quite able to understand all that had just happened. Then, finally, she grasped that The Torturer was dead. He was dead! Justice had been done! True, she would have preferred that Matthews face trial, but this would do. She looked down upon him as the blood pooled beneath his head upon the floor, and a little smile played upon her face at the knowledge of her triumph.

      Then the holographic images fizzled out as the belt's limited charge was exhausted, and the City's notorious female vigilante looked suddenly upon the death-shocked face of Ernö Balog, whom she had just killed. Unknown to her, Matthews had activated a mind-control device he'd implanted on him, just as he had on Carson, and used him to cover his own escape. Enraged by both his own frustration and his injuries, Balog had drawn blades to exact revenge at Matthews' direction, only to be cut down at last, his infamous criminal career at a bloody end.

      Unfortunately, his betrayer had departed to who-knew-where, to torment Shadowvixen another day. This would not be the last time Doctor Xavier Matthews would surface, she knew.

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

Okay, Balog is dead and The Torturer has fled, leaving Vaughn alone in the house.

Question: What is the status of Mayor Vaughn? (Complex) – Ambush / Misfortune

Interpretation: He lies in wait for Shadowvixen, only his plans are about to go awry....

 

The Residence of Mayor Cyril Vaughn – 4:00 AM

 

      The chiming of a clock in the house aroused Shadowvixen from her contemplations; it was now four in the morning, and soon the streets outside would begin to bustle with the first stirrings of a busy day. Indeed, if anyone in the neighborhood was up at all, they may well have heard the gunshots and already be phoning the police. She'd have to leave before they got here.

      But she couldn't leave just yet.

      Stepping carefully over Balog's corpse so as not to tread in his blood, the vigilantess trod silently along the corridor, stopping along the wall just outside the door to the library. “Mayor Vaughn?” she called out quietly. “Are you all right?”

      “N—no,” the politician replied weakly in a pained voice. “I'm hurt. Is...is he dead?”

      “Balog is,” Shadowvixen told him grimly. “Is Matthews still in there with you?”

      “No,” Vaughn said. “He...he left through the window a moment ago. There's only...me in here. Please, help me. I'm...bleeding badly.”

      She nodded to herself; it certainly sounded like he was injured, for she could hear his gasping breaths. She holstered her pistol and took out her small first aid kit. “I'm coming in to help you, Mister Mayor. Let me get the light switch.” With that, she entered the room and, fumbling along the wall, found the switch and turned on the electric light overhead.

      At once, there were two clicks. One came from the light; the other from the heavy-caliber derringer in Vaughn's hand as he pulled back the hammer. Shadowvixen turned her head and froze as she saw the deadly weapon pointed right at her! The corrupt official who'd sought Jennifer Sherwood's demise was about to kill her himself, though he didn't know it!

      “It's about time you were caught, Shadowvixen,” he gloated triumphantly with no sign of injury upon him. “But don't worry; I won't put you through a show trial. I'll just shoot you as an intruder, not knowing how you stopped Balog from murdering me. A tragic end, but a fitting one all the same, you meddlesome bitch.” With that, he pulled the trigger and the heroine flinched as she braced for death – but nothing happened, as the long-unused gun that had been kept in Vaughn's desk drawer misfired!

 

Question: Will Vaughn just try shooting at Shadowvixen again? (Very Likely) – Yes

Question: Can Shadowvixen out-draw him? (A Near Sure Thing) – Yes

Question: Will she use her own pistols? (Unlikely, doesn't want more attention) – Exceptional No!

Question: What's so exceptional about her response? (Complex) – Block / Goals

Interpretation: She'll use her martial arts to incapacitate him, then show him his plans are well and truly ruined, and his career is at an end!

 

      Looking down at his derringer in disbelief, Vaughn pulled back the hammer once more and started to take aim. But before he could shoot again, Shadowvixen's right leg shot out and kicked the gun out of his hand! Then, without moving from her spot in the relatively confined quarters of the library, she delivered a savage return kick with the same leg squarely against the right side of Vaughn's head, nearly knocking him out and driving him into a wall full of books, some of which fell atop him as he slumped to the floor in a daze.

      Quickly, the costumed crimefighter closed the window and drew the blind, then drew one of her pistols and primed it as she walked to stand over the man who'd ultimately been behind her past two weeks of peril. “It's over, Vaughn,” Shadowvixen told the mayor of The City in a cold, vicious voice. “There's no way you can escape justice – not after what you've done, trying to use Balog and The Torturer to kill your political rival and an innocent woman who only sought to help him beat you at the polls.”

      “Can't...can't prove...a thing,” Vaughn replied slurredly in automatic denial, causing her to narrow her eyes in anger.

      “I don't need proof, Mister Mayor,” Shadowvixen said ominously. “I'm a vigilante, remember? I'm judge, jury, and – if need be – executioner, all rolled into one. I have the freedom to make my own justice when the courts are of no avail!”

      “Don't...please. Don't kill me,” the politician pleaded as a trickle of blood began to flow down from a corner of his mouth.

      “Why shouldn't I?” his personal avenging angel demanded to know. “I've long known you've grown rich off of graft and corruption, misusing the people's trust for personal gain. I've not made you more of a priority simply because I knew one day you'd be voted out of office, or your evil deeds would be exposed in court and you'd be carted off to prison. But now, I've caught you red-handed plotting murder with a wanted serial killer and one of the most sinister villains in the entire world! Why, Vaughn? Your political machine would have made it a close contest no matter what Ambrose and Sherwood did. Why take such a stupid, arrogant risk as working with Balog and Xavier Matthews?”

      Cyril Vaughn looked up at Shadowvixen with despairing eyes. “Because I couldn't take the worse risk of losing,” he said simply. “I made a fortune, all right – on paper. But it's all financed and leveraged; I'm up to my neck in debt. I wound up embezzling from the City's budget, siphoning off public funds from different sources, but that still wasn't enough. So when I learned through a third party of Balog's takeover of the sanitarium, I offered him a deal. I'd keep his takeover quiet as long as I possibly could, in exchange for a hefty cut of his take and doing me the occasional 'favor'.”

      “Such as trying to murder Jennifer Sherwood,” Shadowvixen accused. “So where does Matthews tie into this?”

      “He...he found out about my problem,” the mayor answered with weary defeatism. “He told me I was a kindred spirit of sorts, and that he would be happy to help me erase my debts and keep me in office by ridding me of Ambrose and Sherwood both. To tie up loose ends, we'd also use Balog until he was of no more benefit, then double-cross him and give me the credit of bringing that maniac down. After that, Matthews would pay off my creditors, I'd stay in office, and he...well, he just asked me to keep the authorities off of his back, while launching an all-out effort against you costumed troublemakers. Especially you, Shadowvixen,” he informed her. “Seems he has a real dislike for you, for some reason.”

      The woman who'd thwarted Matthews' attempt to stop Nick Cannon and to ally himself with the Germans smirked a bit. “You can say we have a bit of a history,” she said simply.

      Just then, a faint, distant clanging of bells came from outside. The alarm had been raised by the neighbors, who'd heard the commotions near the mayor's house and called the police. Shadowvixen and Vaughn looked at each other. She had to leave, but that meant leaving Vaughn behind. The question, she saw in his eyes, was whether she would leave him alive or dead?

      “I'm sorely tempted to put a bullet in you, Vaughn,” the vigilantess told him bluntly. “But I can't afford to have the authorities after me as your murderer. Besides, there'll be more than enough proof for Ambrose and Carson to deal with you in the courts as it is.”

      “I've hidden my dealings this long, you masked menace,” Vaughn retorted sourly. “They'll never be able to find anything to convict me with.”

 

      Shadowvixen smiled. “Don't count on that. You may have noticed I'm wearing a backpack?” Vaughn took a closer look and noticed now the black straps going over each of her shoulders. “It's a nifty little device provided by Mister Valdemar Poulsen[4], whom I did a good turn for a while back. It's a portable telegraphone that picks up sound waves through a electrical receiver in my utility belt, powered by a battery built into the backpack. Everything you've just said has been recorded for posterity, Mister Mayor,” she told him as a horrified look began to appear on his face, “and I'm sure that the state attorney general and the police commissioner will both be very interested in hearing your remarks.”

      “It'll never be allowed in court!” Vaughn said desperately.

      “Perhaps,” Shadowvixen admitted. “On the other hand, the Fourth Amendment could be interpreted to apply only to evidence acquired by the government's agents. But what about evidence submitted to the police, unsolicited, by a private citizen?” Her smile turned vicious. “See the value of being an unofficial agent, as the great Sherlock Holmes once put it. And given what you've said and done, I think they'll overlook the source of the information.” Satisfied, she turned and headed for the door.

      “You're just going to leave me?” Vaughn said incredulously.

      “To face the music, Mister Mayor,” Shadowvixen affirmed. Then she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder as she reached back to turn off Poulsen's magnetic wire recorder. What she had to say next wasn't something she wanted anyone else to know about. “As I see it, you have a choice, sir. Turn state's evidence, give every shred of information you can about every illicit and illegal deal you've ever been a part of, and take your chances with the legal system. They might only give you twenty years or so.”

      “And the alternative?” he asked.

      The city's distaff masked marvel looked at him steadily. “Well, you do still have the derringer,” she remarked simply. “Who knows? Maybe this time, it'll work for you.” And with that, she left to exit the premises quickly, for the police were now fast approaching.

      Cyril Vaughn sat slumped against the wall, listening vaguely to the clanging bells and the growing murmur of a gathering crowd about the house from out in the street. Soon Carson's men would be here to find Balog's body...and him. What would he say to them? What could he say, after his conversation with Shadowvixen? Her final words echoed in his brain, and he looked at the derringer on the floor where it had landed minutes before.

      Suicide, it is said, is the coward's way out...but then, Cyril Vaughn was never known as a particularly courageous man. The question was, could he truly bring himself to end it all, knowing what faced him in the afterlife if he did? Or did he dare to make amends as Shadowvixen had suggested, knowing that if he did, others more heinous than he would come after him no matter how secure the prison? An awful choice.

      As the police arrived at last and Commissioner Frank Carson pounded on the front door of his home, Vaughn made up his mind.

 

Did Vaughn decide to take his life? (50/50) – Exceptional No!

What was exceptional about his decision? (Complex) – Oppress / Inside

Interpretation: Vaughn finally subdues his evil side, and redeems himself by not only turning state's witness, but endorsing Ambrose as the new mayor!

 

 

Patriots Hall, 300 Independence Avenue – 10:00 AM, Friday, September 17^th, 1915

 

      Jennifer Sherwood, resplendent in white dress and gloves, plumed hat, and a banner adorned with the words, “Honorary Chairwoman”, looked out upon the sea of delegates to the Progressives' Convention. Her convention, yet it also belonged to so many others as well. To David Ambrose, its political champion, who sat near her along with the leaders of the City's major reform organizations. There were suffragists, temperance advocates, settlement house organizers, democracy advocates, education reformers, and a host of others from across The City and the state, together with interested observers and supporters from around the country. A fine moment that they all had shared in the making of.

      And, ironically, in a way, it was also the doing of Cyril Vaughn – now the former mayor of The City, having chosen to resign from office and turn himself over to the police...and turn over a new leaf. It was as if that final confrontation with Shadowvixen had been his “Ebenezer Scrooge” epiphany, for he had openly confessed to all his wrongdoing and told Carson and the city district attorney where to go for all the papers needed to prove his complicity – and that of his 'associates'. Vaughn truly did have much to answer for, even more than Jennifer had ever suspected, and she was genuinely amazed at his turnaround. It was as if, having lost everything he had worked so hard to gain, he sought now to make full amends for it and atone for his abuse of power by bringing down the criminal elements to which he'd been connected. He'd even endorsed Ambrose! Never had she known such a startling transformation, and for that reason alone, she was more than willing to forgive Cyril Vaughn for all he'd done to her.

      Of course, these revelations had shattered the Vaughn Machine, and his party was hastily trying to distance itself from him and to put forward a new candidate for the general election. But it was very unlikely they would succeed – at least, not enough to make a difference come November. David Ambrose was almost certainly going to be the City's next mayor, a stepping stone to perhaps greater things in the future. Which seemed to make the conference today a moot point...but not necessarily so.

      Jennifer banged the oak gavel to bring the convention to order, and a silence fell across the hall as she spoke.

      “My dear friends, fellow progressives, and all those who have supported this meeting by their presence here, I bid you welcome.” A brief pause for polite applause, then she went on.

      “There were those who said this meeting could not take place – that we were too fragmented, too diverse in our interests, to ever unite. Today we prove them wrong. There were those who said this meeting would not take place, and who tried to do everything in their power to stop us. Instead, it is we who have triumphed because of the hard work and sheer determination of each and every one of you, pulling together to work for a better future for our fair City. Today is your victory, my friends – and, I hope, the start of something very special.” The applause that followed was loud and enthusiastic.

      “Of course, some say our meeting today is academic, given recent events,” Jennifer said. Everyone, of course, knew what she meant. “I, however, do not think so – and, I'm sure, neither do you. This is more than a meeting of like-minded people supporting a political candidate. It represents the formation of an alliance that dares to say the American people can achieve great things when they commit themselves to a common cause. We each have our own unique goals, but we all agree on the same vision – that shining 'city on a hill' that was recognized as America's destiny by our earliest settlers, a vision enshrined by both our Declaration of Independence and by the Constitution whose signing we celebrate today. It is fitting then, that on this day we come together to work together towards that vision; and to give our support to the man who can lead this City in that direction as no other man before him. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to introduce that man to you, our keynote speaker, the Honorable David Ambrose.”

 

      As Ambrose rose to come to the podium, those attending stood to applaud both the state's attorney general and the woman whose own vision had made this gathering possible. Before he reached it, though, he shook Jennifer's hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

      “Very nice introduction,” he told her at a volume only she could hear. “Are all vigilantes so kind-spoken?”

      “You're still fixated on that notion?” she hissed back into his ear.

      “Until you can prove otherwise,” he answered. “But I'll let it rest for now. After all the jeopardy you've faced, you've earned it,” Ambrose told her with a smile that encompassed both thanks and a lingering, knowing suspicion.

      As she returned to her seat and watched Ambrose begin his prepared remarks, Jennifer Sherwood realized that the safe convening of this meeting – made possible by a thorough check of the entire structure for signs of that “disintegration ray” and its effects, and a massive police presence that would ward off any possible external attack – marked only the end of the latest exciting chapter in her life. With a suspicious David Ambrose as mayor, her fellow progressives coming together politically, Detective Simon Case knowing of her dual identities, the appearance of that mysterious figure in white, The Jade Rose being back in town, and The Torturer still very much on the loose, she understood full well that the most challenging episodes of her career – and of Shadowvixen's – were still to come.

     

 

THE END