Alexandrian Ptolemais
28-05-2007, 05:05
OOC: Bascially this murder mystery is inspired by the Jack the Ripper case of 1888; except, instead of being set in London in that year, it is a completely different person doing the crimes and it is set in Ptolemais, the capital of the Empire of Alexandrian Ptolemais in 1894. You can select any person you wish to be, except for the Molesworth Island Police Superintendent (and also the Head of the Investigation). Also, once the background has been set in this post, then the story is free to go
IC:
May 22, 1894 - Port Ptolemais
George Henderson was glad to see the sight of shore after a five day mail steamer ride, which was, to be quite frank, a horrid experience. It always seemed that the Imperial Shipping Company put the ships that they were set to retire on the Ptolemais to Molesworth Island run; certainly the S. S. Molesworth had seen much better days. Approaching into Port Ptolemais, Henderson could not help but be awed at the sight.
Henderson had not been outside of Molesworth Island for six years, not since he had been appointed the Molesworth Island Police Superintendent. He was now coming back on a holiday before taking over the position of Port Plymouth Police Superintendent. It seemed that it was just his luck, he became the head in all the worst possible places. Molesworth Island may have been completely isolated, but Port Plymouth was even more isolated - and he was in charge of a massive chunk of the East Coast of the Empire. At least he could enjoy his break.
Port Ptolemais had changed in the last six years. For one thing, the docks were getting much larger to accomodate larger and faster vessels. Just the week before, the Ptolemais to Glenelg run had been done in a record two days, while the S. S. Emperor George was towering above the docks, its twin funnels gleaming in the sun. Even the skyline had changed, new buildings were being erected, the streets seemed to be a forest of poles with strings of wire carrying telephone, telegraph and electricity lines and the sky was grey from the smog - the Empire had now well and truly entered the Industrial Age.
Henderson found himself a porter reasonably quickly and he was soon making his way to the Port Ptolemais Station. The building was itself quite old, it had not been expanded for the last twenty years, but the platforms were more numerous now than before - another five had been built in the last six years and they had been designed for the increased passenger traffic; people were now travelling more than ever before.
Henderson gave the porter a half-crown that he happened to have in his pocket and proceeded to purchase his ticket for the Port Express. He waited patiently on Platform Five and before long, a train thundered into the station. It was one of the new trains - a glistening black 4-4-2 Atlantic loco hauled eight dark red carriages and a van. Soon enough, the train had been marshalled and was ready to do the Port Express. Henderson made his way to the rear most first-class carriage and the locomotive whistle roared and before long, they were underway.
Henderson could not help but notice the changes that had occurred in his absence. Once green fields had turned into suburbs. What were once rural lanes had become reasonably wide roads with steam trams operating on them. The forests of old had become forests of poles, carrying more cables than ever before. Ptolemais was clearly turning into a metropolis.
The train he was in was extremely modern; the wooden panels looked modern and the seats were extremely comfortable - it was obvious that thousands of Gold Denarii had been poured into passenger operations. The train was reasonably quick in arriving at Ptolemais Central Station and Henderson got off.
The station was best described as noisy - guards shouting out destinations, locos being warmed up for their next run, newspaper boys shouting out the titles of their various newspapers. Henderson looked at his pocket watch - it was 6 o'clock and the station would be at its busiest as people made their way home for the evening. He also had to make his way to the Imperial Hotel and so boarded a new electric tram that was trundling along King Ptolemy Avenue.
The tram was much faster, more spacious and quieter than the horse, cable and steam trams that were still in existence. King Ptolemy Avenue was extremely busy with horse-drawn omnibuses, hansom cabs and even the odd automobile mixing with the horse, cable, steam and electric trams that symbolised modernity to the people of Ptolemais. The time for thinking ended when the tram reached the stop outside the Imperial Hotel and Henderson made his way off.
The Imperial Hotel was the last word in luxury and modernity - Henderson walked inside the hotel, checked in and took the elevator to the eleventh floor. He proceeded down the corridor, entered into his room and was stunned.
The room was filled with oak and pine panelling; a bed of pure mahogany as well as a table of pure mahogany. On the table, a quill was located inside the ink pot with a ream of paper beside; on the other side sat a telephone - he could so easily contact the world. The routine of lighting candles could be broken, at least for the next few days as the rooms were fully lit with electric lights. Even better was the presence of a modern bathroom - Henderson could now take a bath at his pleasure and not have to worry about chamber pots; a flush toilet was there for his convience. Exhausted from his journey though, Henderson was quickly in bed.
His sleep was soon disturbed by the ringing of the telephone. After fumbling around, he picked up the telephone and got the message that would change his career
"Superintendent Henderson, it is Inspector Jenner, there has been a vicious murder in Glenfield Valley in the north-west of the city."
"Yes, I do remember where Glenfield Valley was; that was always the worst part of Ptolemais in terms of crime."
"Well, big Bill wants you to head the inquiry."
"Of course, I'll have to begin in the morning."
IC:
May 22, 1894 - Port Ptolemais
George Henderson was glad to see the sight of shore after a five day mail steamer ride, which was, to be quite frank, a horrid experience. It always seemed that the Imperial Shipping Company put the ships that they were set to retire on the Ptolemais to Molesworth Island run; certainly the S. S. Molesworth had seen much better days. Approaching into Port Ptolemais, Henderson could not help but be awed at the sight.
Henderson had not been outside of Molesworth Island for six years, not since he had been appointed the Molesworth Island Police Superintendent. He was now coming back on a holiday before taking over the position of Port Plymouth Police Superintendent. It seemed that it was just his luck, he became the head in all the worst possible places. Molesworth Island may have been completely isolated, but Port Plymouth was even more isolated - and he was in charge of a massive chunk of the East Coast of the Empire. At least he could enjoy his break.
Port Ptolemais had changed in the last six years. For one thing, the docks were getting much larger to accomodate larger and faster vessels. Just the week before, the Ptolemais to Glenelg run had been done in a record two days, while the S. S. Emperor George was towering above the docks, its twin funnels gleaming in the sun. Even the skyline had changed, new buildings were being erected, the streets seemed to be a forest of poles with strings of wire carrying telephone, telegraph and electricity lines and the sky was grey from the smog - the Empire had now well and truly entered the Industrial Age.
Henderson found himself a porter reasonably quickly and he was soon making his way to the Port Ptolemais Station. The building was itself quite old, it had not been expanded for the last twenty years, but the platforms were more numerous now than before - another five had been built in the last six years and they had been designed for the increased passenger traffic; people were now travelling more than ever before.
Henderson gave the porter a half-crown that he happened to have in his pocket and proceeded to purchase his ticket for the Port Express. He waited patiently on Platform Five and before long, a train thundered into the station. It was one of the new trains - a glistening black 4-4-2 Atlantic loco hauled eight dark red carriages and a van. Soon enough, the train had been marshalled and was ready to do the Port Express. Henderson made his way to the rear most first-class carriage and the locomotive whistle roared and before long, they were underway.
Henderson could not help but notice the changes that had occurred in his absence. Once green fields had turned into suburbs. What were once rural lanes had become reasonably wide roads with steam trams operating on them. The forests of old had become forests of poles, carrying more cables than ever before. Ptolemais was clearly turning into a metropolis.
The train he was in was extremely modern; the wooden panels looked modern and the seats were extremely comfortable - it was obvious that thousands of Gold Denarii had been poured into passenger operations. The train was reasonably quick in arriving at Ptolemais Central Station and Henderson got off.
The station was best described as noisy - guards shouting out destinations, locos being warmed up for their next run, newspaper boys shouting out the titles of their various newspapers. Henderson looked at his pocket watch - it was 6 o'clock and the station would be at its busiest as people made their way home for the evening. He also had to make his way to the Imperial Hotel and so boarded a new electric tram that was trundling along King Ptolemy Avenue.
The tram was much faster, more spacious and quieter than the horse, cable and steam trams that were still in existence. King Ptolemy Avenue was extremely busy with horse-drawn omnibuses, hansom cabs and even the odd automobile mixing with the horse, cable, steam and electric trams that symbolised modernity to the people of Ptolemais. The time for thinking ended when the tram reached the stop outside the Imperial Hotel and Henderson made his way off.
The Imperial Hotel was the last word in luxury and modernity - Henderson walked inside the hotel, checked in and took the elevator to the eleventh floor. He proceeded down the corridor, entered into his room and was stunned.
The room was filled with oak and pine panelling; a bed of pure mahogany as well as a table of pure mahogany. On the table, a quill was located inside the ink pot with a ream of paper beside; on the other side sat a telephone - he could so easily contact the world. The routine of lighting candles could be broken, at least for the next few days as the rooms were fully lit with electric lights. Even better was the presence of a modern bathroom - Henderson could now take a bath at his pleasure and not have to worry about chamber pots; a flush toilet was there for his convience. Exhausted from his journey though, Henderson was quickly in bed.
His sleep was soon disturbed by the ringing of the telephone. After fumbling around, he picked up the telephone and got the message that would change his career
"Superintendent Henderson, it is Inspector Jenner, there has been a vicious murder in Glenfield Valley in the north-west of the city."
"Yes, I do remember where Glenfield Valley was; that was always the worst part of Ptolemais in terms of crime."
"Well, big Bill wants you to head the inquiry."
"Of course, I'll have to begin in the morning."