The Prologue (1941) - Part I

[jacemachine]

Arriving in Guatemala, the 'Kingston Queen'.

"The Arrival"

Saturday June, 7th 1941

Caribbean Sea

The Kingston Queen. A merchant vessel sailing under a Jamaican  registry. Like most merchant ships it is not armed with large deck-mounted guns, but if it were to ever be boarded by pirates they would likely find themselves at the mercy of a fairly well armed crew.  The ship is probably about 500 tons, small for a merchant ship, but adequate for the purposes of its current group of passengers. Battered and rusty, it goes without notice in most of the ports it visits throughout the Caribbean.

Even now, as it approaches its destination of Puerta de Santa Boca, a group of men meet privately below deck in a stuffy lounge near the crew quarters…

[jacemachine]

The lounge contains a table, chairs, and a battered sofa. A small gas stove sits in the far corner, and a pot of coffee simmers away on the range. The enticing aroma of fresh coffee floats freely through the air, partially covering the scent of old body odor that seemed to permeate everywhere on the ship. Outside the portholes land can be seen encroaching on the horizon. Mountains covered in vast swaths of jungle.

For the most part you’ve kept to yourselves until now. Though you recognize the faces of the men you currently travel with, you are all still strangers. Each of you have volunteered to be here, and now as you look at each other you realize that these are the men that you will be spending all your time with in the days to come.

The lounge door opens, and a heavyset man dressed in a brown suit peers in.
“Everyone’s here? Good. I’ll be just a moment as I gather my things.” He disappears, and the door shuts once again behind him. He is clearly American.

[Please make your initial posts at this time. Please describe your character’s physical appearance and dress. If you want to make small talk while you wait that is up to you.]

[j0lt]

Dr. Loder sits at the table, poring over various maps and charts of the area.  Every so often he wipes his glasses with his tie to clear the fog generated by too many bodies in such a cramped space.  Sitting back, he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs noisily.  He gets up and edges his way to the gas stove and pours himself another cup of gritty black coffee.  Looking up at one of the men standing by the table, Dr. Loder tries to break the ice.  "First time in Guatemala, huh?"

[Flay Crimsonwind]

Eisen wasn't totally sure of the company he kept on this vessel. True, he'd been a prime force in assaulting the German war machine, and he hated the Germans just as much as anyone - indeed moreso, for his personal ties to the country - but he still felt as though he wasn't fully trusted by people. It was a well-established fact that even the English military, his firmest and oldest allies in his one-man espionage-military struggle against the current ruling force of his home country, didn't hold him n high trust. But still, they'd asked him, somewhat desperate sounding, to join this expedition, and the stakes were supposedly high. He recognized people there, but hadn't the gall to actually speak to them.

One spoke to the room at large, and he made a start as if to speak, then decided against it somewhat more shyly than he'd liked to have shown. A second thought made him slip the broken trench knives he'd been fingering back into the belt loosely set around the waist of his fatigues. They were lucky, from his father, who used them in the first war, broken because his father had snapped one blade off inside an enemy. He'd broken the other one off inside a German spy, so they were now basically brass knuckles. As for the fatigues, he wore little else, ever, unless needed, always with dark gray or black tank tops or tight t-shirts, and his fatigue coat covering the thick but not bulky leather coat that had saved him a few times. Slinging the coat off his shoulder and around to the back of a chair, he sat leaning forward with his cup half empty (the coffee was damned disgusting) and in an accent that could hardly be recognized as German (sounding a bit English, a bit American with a German tinge and absolutely no slang), responded to the man, and felt just a bit of tension ease off of his shoulders already. "Yes, which is somewhat of a relief. It's just as wild as Europe, but even so, it seems a little more peaceful here, if only such innocence could cloud the reality of what we're here to do... or, whatever a group like us is intended to do..."

[Neull//]

Max smiles to the doctor

“Second time for me. I just hope it will not be as bad as the last time. Being hunted by cannibals is not something I wish to experience again”  

He then speaks to the German guy

“It seems peaceful. Believe me it is not. Exploring the nature here can be worst than being in a Great war trench”  

[Tarotdragoon]

John sat back on battered old sofa, it's springs squealed in protest and he shifted on it nerviously, eyeing up the other idividuals in the room.
He had seen them around the ship from time to time, walking amongst the deck or through the tight little corridors around the quaters, the stuffy looking doctor, the european (possibly German though he had yet to confirm it), that rather rough looking american, Richardson the hunter whose had overheared while walking past an open doorway and the... well he had said he was an a lecturer but the chap looked more like a bounty hunter!
John shifted around again, prompting more agonized squeeks and groans from the musty couch, moved his thick jacket from it's uncomfortable position and placed it on the arm of the sofa and ran a hand over his slicked brown hair. His face was young, tanned and handsome many had said he was younger than he looked, his little mustache oiled and trim as his hair and his eyes were dark and active, still sizing up the others in the room, he was not used to working with others, unless they were women, then he was more than happy but something stuck John as slightly off about this venture, and it wasn't the lack of information....

"first time in Guatemala, huh?" It was the doctor that spoke first, he followed the conversation for a bit getting a little nervous at the mention of cannibals

"Cannibals you say?" John looked away before reaching into his pocket

"If you chaps will forgive me I feel I need another cigarette, I really was not expecting connibals on this trip, are you being serious Mr...umm" he scrambled for a name but found himself drawing a blank at the stubbled face.

[BowenSilverclaw]

A rather rough and scruffy looking man wearing fatigues and fiddling with parts of his gun sits opposite doctor Loder.
"Cannibals huh?" John says as he takes another sip of coffee before continuing with cleaning his Colt M1911A1.
"I hope the humidity here doesn't have an adverse effect on my weapons...

Say, what are your specialties if I may ask, gentlemen?" he inquisitively asks as he continues work on his Colt.

[Neull//]

“Max. Max Hawkins. Sorry I am not good with all these social things…Let’s say I feel better when I am venturing alone into an Eyptian ancient crypt than being hanging around with friends in  Green Horse, my favourite pub in London”

"Specialities eh?....Hmmmm"

“Well I have a passion with archaeology… mix this with the occult and this is where I am....hmmm I guess I am also good with making things. Mostly explosives…they have helped a lot with in the past against the Nazis…”   

Max reaches his backpack  and retrieves one of his latest creation, his frag grenade baby doll…

“Have a look at this…you pull this pin and BOOM”

[j0lt]

Dr. Loder's face brightens at the mention of archaeology.  "A fellow archaeologist, huh?  I happen to specialize in the pre-Colombian civilization of the Mayas, which is why I'm here, I suppose.  My name is Dr. Henry Loder."

Turning to the two men who had identified themselves as John, Dr. Loder grimaces.  "I assure you, the risk of ending up on a cannibal's dinner plate in the deep jungle is very real.  I narrowly escaped such a fate myself the last time I was here.  I had been studying a recently found Mayan codex which had allegedly been unearthed not too far from Guatemala city.  Of course, it turned out to be a simple forgery, but it was probably the most excitement I've had in my life.

[Nanshork]

Richard has been in a chair in the corner, leaning back and seeming to doze.  He is wearing a traditional British safari outfit and looks to be in his early forties.  Propped next to him is the biggest rifle you have ever seen, the kind of rifle used to kill things like elephants and who knows what it would do to a man, and it is obviously well used and taken care of.

At the mention of cannibals he mutters to himself and tilts his hat back.  While he looks British, his accent is mixed and it is obvious that this man is well traveled.  He leans forward towards the rest of the group and says, "Cannibals are the least of the dangers you will find in the jungle.  I have spent time in the Congo, and cannibals can be reasoned with.  But can you reason with a Panther?  An anaconda?  Can you look into the very eyes of death itself and ask it to just leave you alone?"

Richard then leans back.  "The name is Richard Jameson and I am a sniper and a scout, have served in both great wars.  In between I've been up and down all of Africa.  I'm here to make sure that you chaps don't all die before we even get where we're going."

[BowenSilverclaw]

"Thanks for the confidence, old man." John deadpans.

"The name's John Kestrel, Sergeant in the U.S. military. I'll be your resident firearms expert and scout on this little field trip."

[Tarotdragoon]

“Max. Max Hawkins. Sorry I am not good with all these social things…Let’s say I feel better when I am venturing alone into an Eyptian ancient crypt than being hanging around with friends in  Green Horse, my favourite pub in London”

John pulled a small carton of cigarettes from his overall pocket, opening the top he put the box to his lips and pulled out a white cork tipped cigarette, listening to the individual across from him

"Max huh...."

he watched the man fiddle with his backpack, listening politely before lighting pulling out a match and striking it on the rough of the box, the smell of burning sulfur filled the air around the aviator, he brought the flaming match to the end of the cigarette

"I must say," he took a deep drag "Max, I am also somewhat of a recluse myself"

diverting his attention to the others namely the stuffy looking scientist, he listened in unsure who he should be looking at, the mention of more cannibals drew his attention while Max wandered around inside his rucksack, John Grimaced

"Sounds riveting, I'm sort of an Archaeologist myself I spent quite some time-" he cut off as Max found what he was looking for

“Well I have a passion with archaeology… mix this with the occult and this is where I am....hmmm I guess I am also good with making things. Mostly explosives…they have helped a lot with in the past against the Nazis…”   

“Have a look at this…you pull this pin and BOOM”

John stared back to Max and the thing in the thing in his hand, a look of sheer disbelief slapped across of face

"It's an....." he paused, not quite knowing what he wanted to say "...exploding doll...."

[jacemachine]

The door to the lounge opens, and once again the man in the brown suit enters the room. His hair and bushy mustache match the color of his plain suit. His gut gives him the distinct look of a man who's enjoyed too many donuts and too many desks. His glasses betray a lifetime of reading.

"Sorry about that folks! I just needed to find my partner." He motions to a thin man in a grey-blue suit who trails him through the door. "Golly, it's awfully stuffy in here. Charlie, would you open one of those windows and let some air in here please?"

The thin man in the blue suit, now identified as Charlie, gives him a look before he squeezes past his partner and heads to the first of 3 portholes. He struggles with the first one, which is clearly rusted shut while the man in the brown suit opens up an attaché case on the table and begins to organize some paperwork and manila envelopes.

Charlie gives up and proceeds to the second; it pops open without quarrel, the third as well. Immediately the smell of sea brine rushes in, bringing with it a cooling breeze. The smell of BO is lessened graciously. Charlie joins his partner at the head of the table.

"Gentlemen, my name is Bradley Wilkes and this is Charlie DuMont-“

“Charles” he cuts in. His voice has a French accent. His hair is curly blonde and he has a Rhett Butler style mustache.

"Sorry, Charles.” Wilkes responds half-heartedly, and slightly amused. "We work for the League of Nations and We're here to deliver your briefing.“ He pauses a moment looking each of you  before he continues.

"What I’m about to entrust to you is Top Secret.

"For nearly a decade the Nazis have had teams of archaeologists running around the world looking for all kinds of religious and occult artifacts. Hitler’s a nut on the subject. He’s crazy. He’s obsessed with the occult and right now apparently there’s some kind of German archaeological expedition going on in the Guatemalan jungles of Central America.“

Charles takes over as Wilkes grabs a cup of coffee. "A month ago European sections of Intelligence intercepted a German communiqué that was sent from Berlin to Frederick Krouse, a lead archaeologist of the Ahnenerbe.

"Krouse had been stationed in Cairo leading the continued excavation of Tanis, but was pulled suddenly and sent to join an SS Ahnenerbe team in Guatemala. Looking into this further we discovered that Hitler himself ordered this expedition."

"Two platoons of Waffen SS have been dispatched to the area to support the archaeologists. They are operating in the area of a seedy port town in Guatemala called Santa Boca, and led by Hauptmann Karl Dietrich.  Sources report that two German U-Boats are also in the vicinity, U-26 and U-48. At least one platoon is still in Puerta de Santa Boca, so you will need to keep a low profile after you disembark." He takes a large swallow from his cup before he continues.

"An expedition took place during the 1920’s. Letters were written by a man named Albert Dunning to his mother to whom he describes the expedition’s journey to a lost city. Dunning was the only man to make it back, but he died from his injuries in a native village. His letters never made it home; rather they ended up in the possession of a missionary. They resurfaced the hands of private collectors, then traded and sold until the Nazis took an interest in them. Thanks to Herr Abendroth we now have the first three of these instead of the Ahnenerbe." He smiles in Abendroth's direction.

"These letters are our Ace in the Hole. If you can successfully find and follow Dunning’s trail based on the descriptions written about in the letters, then we may just beat the Nazis at their own game this time."

Again Charles DuMont takes over. "In addition to your own personal items, your team has been issued various gear for the expedition. This gear is currently amongst the cargo of this freighter, but you will be able to take possession of it once it has been unloaded. Customs is nearly non-existent, and you should have no trouble taking possession of it once you show the Dock Master your paperwork.

"It is highly recommended that you seek out a man named Harrison Avery. He’s an American who has been living in the area for a number of years. He’s acted as guide on two other occasions for us, and should be friendly to our cause. However, we weren’t able to locate him prior to this mission. It’s quite possible that he has left the area or is dead. You may need to hire porters and mules to ease your progress into the jungles.
Find a guide and try, as best you can, to follow the trail of Albert Dunning."

Bradley Wilkes expression takes a more serious look. "Gentlemen, Hitler believes that there is a powerful relic to be found in this lost city. If this artifact exists we want to get it before he does, even if it turns out to be just a lump of useless stone. Even something symbolically powerful could be used in the Nazi Propaganda machine."

Wilkes pauses for a moment before asking, "Now, do any of you have any questions?"

[jacemachine]

"Are you not forgetting something Monsieur Wilkes?" DuMont says, not really asking. He picks up a manila folder and passes it across the table in front of you. "You will find Intel Profiles on Hitler and Himmler as well as copies of the Albert Dunning letters that we acquired. We've also included a simple map of Puerta de Santa Boca for you as well. The cargo claims can be found inside another envelope. He looks over at Wilkes, then back to you.

"Now do you have any questions?"

[Tarotdragoon]

"Let me get this straight..." says John slowly and carefully, his soft voice cutting through the cloud of heavy smoke around his head, which had been lessoned somewhat thanks to the fresh sea air, he shared his glance equally between both the portly american and the thin frenchie, shifting his weight to lean forwards, a hand on his leg prompting a further squeak from the musty couch, the bazaar contraption in Max's hands forgotten.

"you want us to trec through the jungle, with two platoons of nazi soldiers hot on our hides, following a rough trail described to us in obscure letters and then obtain this..... thing before the probably well equipped and armed nasty Nazi men do?"

[jacemachine]

"Precisely." answers DuMont. "Though honestly, we seriously doubt that the Nazis will even know you're there... unless you make yourselves known." DuMont now helps himself to the coffee and grimaces when he drinks it. "C'est terrible! Comment pouvez-vous boire ceci?"

Wilkes chuckles at his partner's clear distaste. "There is alot happening in this town. This weekend is when all the local farmers and craftsmen come out of the jungles to sell their wares. The town is currently swelling with people. You should be able to blend right into the diverse ethnic pool that we expect. If anyone does have questions about you, you can tell them whatever you like. Maybe you're here to resupply a native village. Who knows. Just be careful."

[BowenSilverclaw]

"I think my price just went up..."

John adds somewhat jokingly, finishing the work on his Colt.

[Nanshork]

Richard looks to DuMont "Que pouvez-vous faire?  As for the mission, I'll do what I can and keep us clear of the Nazis."

[BowenSilverclaw]

"I've got some toys in case they get too close for comfort." John adds, holstering his Colt.

[Tarotdragoon]

"I think my price just went up..."

"I'll drink to that, but I hear the coffee is terrible round here" he eyes the choking frenchman and the offending coffee,

"I Thought this was an Archaeology dig, not some sort of wild goose chase involving Nazi soldiers, as a policy I don't get involved in politics or people who can shoot me while I'm out of my plane, I think I'll need some hazard pay... and lots of it, or some more insurance"