The Fateville Files

The Little Black Book

Inside this heavy dark bound tome whose spine is embossed with but one word, JEEVES, you find the recordings of Avery’s mysterious butler.

Snowy followed Avery from the living room after the young master’s guest seemed to elect her as their ambassador while looking around uncomfortably at each other as he exited the dining room. She travelled down the short hallway leading deeper into the house and as she stepped into the anteroom the House attempted to revert to the Incident. Damage suddenly appeared, wood splinters flying through the room, their spectral forms even flying through the young woman, flames gout up from the floor, hungrily licking at the walls and paintings. The sounds of furious voices echo in the Young Master’s native tongue.

To her credit the Ice Jotun only flinched back from the destruction the room before the Young Master’s will rallied and returned the House to its current appearance, that up a small undecorated room. Snowy apparently decided this to be mere illusion squared her shoulders before she hurried down the hallway, looking for the Young Master. Upon exiting the antechamber, Snowy entered into entry hall, its plain dust cloth covered furniture and absent all decoration. Spying the grand staircase she immediately decided to intrude up Young Master Avery. (Perhaps she did not realize all she was going to see, or perhaps she had some other knowledge about the House. It matters not now, keep an eye on the Ice Jotun, even newly awakened to her powers as she is this knowledge can be a danger to the Young Master. Protect him.)

As she entered the entry hall, the House flickered and struck once more. The environs again exploded into violence. Flames everywhere, charred forms and other less identifiable remains littered the floor while bursts of flame and lightning crisscross the room. At the top of the stairs stood Avery and a number of hulking forms at his back while at the bottom of the stairs a young man stood, me in my place of honor at his shoulder. The young man is panting and his clothes are torn and blood stained and even I show signs of battle, giving you an idea of how desperate our struggles were that night. Despite this the young man looked triumphant, an old brass pocket watch clutched by the chain in his up raised fist.


After but moments the scene rippled out of sight, the Young Master in command again everything and returns to ‘normal.’ The young woman slowly stepped into the room, apparently looking for any sign of the Young Master. Seeing nothing of him she then she will called for him as she walked toward the Grand Stairs. She was a obviously on edge but forced herself to remain calm with her face a neutral mask of no expression.

After several minutes of silence and indecision Snowy made her way up to the Grand Stair, and this time when the House strikes at her as she put her foot on the first step she almost seems to expect it._ (She is clever and learns quickly! Take heed of her; she likes to play the trollop but beneath her pleasant outer mien lies the mind and will of a young player of the Game, brother.)_ The stairs became shambles, reduced to almost rubble by combat and the young man from before lies broken and bloody in the middle of them, the brass pocket watch laying he wielded with triumph before at the bottom of the stairs- far outside his grasp. He looked stunned and confused as he gasps words out around obvious pain to Avery as the wizard leaned down and took up the Watch.

“We had a deal! They…they were signed and witnessed by members of the Accords! By other members of the Council even! Why…how…I…”

Avery looked down at the young man and you could see anger and rage on his face, untouched by sorrow over the boy’s wounds and confusion.

“Risk my line over some fool dalliance with a mortal? I told you before, boy, you’ll soon forget her in any case. It is time to finish this farce.”

Avery turned and made his way up the broken staircase, feet flickering oddly over the rubble as the boy plead with him to stop until well after he is out of sight. His pleas cut off abruptly when short scream from echoed from somewhere up above. Hearing this the boy screamed in apparent grief and collapsed, sobbing. The stairs reappear slowly this time, whole and undamaged but the cost to the Young Master, oh the cost.

With fear clear on her face and manner, Snowy climbed the stairs. Still she was intent upon disturbing the Young Master’s privacy. She came to the hallway, its wall sconces dark, the Young Master’s desire to be left alone clear in its shadowed depths. This time the Ice Jotun is clearly ready for the House’s attack. As the flicker of the House’s attack fades, a long trail of blood leads down the hallway, the area strangely devoid of the destruction seen throughout the rest of the House. At the far end, the young man seen twice before is weeping over what looked to be the remains of a young woman. All around him lie the forms of our darker brothers, those that had previously been surrounding Avery, their forms were twisted and burned some of them blown apart by the force of the young man’s wrath unleashed upon them. Their deaths were brutal, swift and highly focused, not a single sign of environmental harm evident around the bloody form of the woman’s corpse. Next to the young man lies the pocket watch – how is was regained unclear- and beside it lies a lone scrap of parchment with words, scrawled across it.

For Your Own Good, whelp.

The images fade, the Young Master’s will slowly pushing back the brutal attack of the House, to reveal a small pool of light at the end of the hall illuminating The Memoriam, a life size portrait of a young woman wearing the same sun dress that the body in the vision had. She is smiling, the sun in her hair as she runs through a field of flowers. Below it, arms wrapped around his knees, sits the Young Master, weeping into his hands.

It is here that grief forced me to intervene without the Young Master’s orders and I whispered to Snowy knowing that her life was in danger to the Young Master would know that his wrath need not be contained against one such as she.

“Quickly madam, we must leave this place. He knows you are not mortal and his wrath at your intrusion, unintentional or not, will be unrestrained. We must leave before he notices us here. This is Her place.”

Snowy turned and nodded to me speaking as she stepped away from the Young Master.

“I am used to being betrayed, but I guess I can be happy I never betrayed myself at least. Please let him know I’ll be here for him regardless of whatever this was.”

She handed me one of the bags of food that the Young Master finds so wondrous, and mussed her hair and disarrayed her clothing a bit. Then, disguising her knowledge with that slightly vapid smile she normally bears she headed back to the dining room. I could not allow her unintentional insult of the Young Master stand, not here in this place and I looked down at her sharply as I lead her away to a safer locale.

“Beware your tongue madam. It was not himself that betrayed the young master and I will not allow you to insult him so.”

Realizing that she had transgressed beyond what I would allow apparently startled the Ice Jotun into realizing that she was walking a dangerous path and she spoke to me.

“No insult intended and no judgment passed, sir Jeeves. There is obviously more going on here than I realize. If he needs me please don’t hesitate to call. This will grant you entry past my wards. I just hope you are different from all the others, I am really tired of everyone turning on me.”

Snowy paused for a moment and a shadow of conflicted emotions crossed her face. Then she slipped her hand into mine quickly, and left a small wire snowflake on a silver chain in my hand. I bowed slightly to acknowledging her off without accepting her aid, and swiftly moved the token into the Young Master’s laboratory. (Remember to remind the Young Master about her history of betrayal, perhaps there is debt there that he can use for himself, and he does like to aid those in trouble. Also beware her curiosity. It could result in…Complications.)

As we arrived back at the dining room, Snowy turned to me and asked a fateful question.

“Oh, and Jeeves, one last thing before we join the others. Which Avery is the real one? The jerk, the kid, or this one?”

“They are all Avery, madam. As to the rest of your question I suggest you consult your constable.”



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