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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Jul 4, 2017 7:24:58 GMT
The year is 1923, a friend of Hazel’s from the war has gone missing while on the hunt for a magical artifact stolen from the allied forces. The artifact is a dangerous combination of highly valuable, immensely powerful, and unfortunately unstable. The powers that be don’t wish to go looking for their missing operative, for fear that unsavory treasure hunters and old enemies might catch the scent. That leaves the task of finding both the man and the artifact to a small group of interested individuals.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Jul 4, 2017 8:05:32 GMT
April 10th 1923: We open on the city of Cairo. Sunlight sparkles on the river Nile, flowing serenely north. The serenity belies the turmoil of the country itself. Political upheaval has people fighting in the streets, and the discovery of King Tutankhamen's tomb just a year earlier has filled the city with tourists, archaeologists, and treasure seekers heading south to the Valley of Kings. It's nearing the end of the tourist season now though. The weather is still fine, but in a few weeks, it will begin to be unbearably hot. Most of the European tourists will leave before the month is out. But now, at the height of April, the city is crowded and noisy with a dozen different languages all talking at once. Old and New are stacked together, overlapping and blending together in exotic ways. The influence of centuries of inhabitation hangs over the city, seeping into the cracks and giving the air itself a palpable sense of age and mystery. That sense is somewhat broken by vendors hawking cheap replicas of the ancient world to giddy tourists.
It was from here that Hazel's friend, Thomas, last wrote to her on a piece of someone else's stationary. An M. Morrison. It was easy enough to find out he runs a little guesthouse in the bazaar district. Not an unusual place for Thomas to stay. He's one of their kind, and Thomas was very complimentary of his hospitality.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Jul 4, 2017 8:24:34 GMT
Hazel Hobbs stood on the steps of the Central Railway Station, a hand to her eyes to shield them from the ever-present sunlight. It seemed to dazzle her eyes in this country more than it had when she had worked further south. Perhaps it was all the stone. In one hand she held her leather valise, so tightly that her knuckles were white from her grip. From where she stood the city looked impenetrable. She thought she saw a glimpse of the shining Nile in the distance, but it was hard to tell.
It had taken a long time to get here, even with magic to aid their travel. Floo to Calais, floo to Paris, train to Marseille, boat to Alexandria and another train here. She sighed and looked around at the others.
"Shall we find our hotel? It's too late now to pay a call to Mr. Morrison."
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Post by Evan Jenkins on Jul 4, 2017 10:49:16 GMT
Evan put a hand over his eyes against the sun and looked down into the city. He found himself scanning the horizon, searching rather than looking. He knew for what, but no shot or shell had cut through the air in 4 years. It was silly. And yet ...
An army duffel bag was on his shoulder, packed efficiently and bearing more things than should physically be possible. Standard issue by the Ministry for any wizards who enlisted. He was no longer in service and should have handed it back. He hadn't.
"Hotel would be good. Get cleaned up from the journey."
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Post by Evelyn Winters on Jul 5, 2017 21:05:29 GMT
Evelyn put her bag down, exhausted. "Please," She huffed, "All those different stops..." She put a hand to her stomach, so much floo travel didn't agree kindly with her. Anyway, it was far too warm to stay in the over-crowded train station.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Jul 7, 2017 11:39:13 GMT
She looked around the crowd, turned sideways a little, and shifted her wand to her hand. She tapped the ring on her finger. A pretty little thing. Sapphires and diamonds in the shape of the flower. A family heirloom. She'd tried to give it back after they got the news, but she'd been asked to keep it.
"Point me," she muttered as the tip of the wand touched the sparkling white gem in the center. The ring glowed briefly and she tucked the wand back into its holster in her sleeve. "The rooms I booked are this way." She pointed and the group set off through the streets. "Near the bazaar."
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Post by Evan Jenkins on Jul 7, 2017 11:56:03 GMT
"This friends of yours. Do you think he'll still be in this city?" Evan asked. Looking at the folk that wandered around the streets, it seemed like it would appeal to a certain kind of man. A dangerous one. And from what Hazel had said about this Sullivan fellow, he could very well be one of those.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Jul 8, 2017 15:29:11 GMT
"I'm not sure...It's been a while since the letter. But I can't imagine where he would go next if he did leave." Hazel bit her lip.
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Post by Evelyn Winters on Jul 9, 2017 12:06:53 GMT
Evelyn gave her friend's arm a re-assuring squeeze. "We'll find him, don't you worry."
She looked around her at the bustling bazaar and whistled quietly. It certainly was a change of pace from London. Which is what she'd wanted, she supposed, but they certainly weren't in England anymore.
She linked arms with Hazel, "You better keep an eye on me or I might get lost in this place too." She laughed.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Aug 13, 2017 17:37:28 GMT
Hazel smiled at that. "And then what would I do, mmm? How would we ever go on without my best girl?" Her ring vibrated when it was time to turn down this street or that. "May want to keep a good grip on your bag, Evy."
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Post by Evan Jenkins on Aug 17, 2017 7:50:52 GMT
Evan kept his eyes on the people moving around them. There were too many weapons out for him to not be suspicious. His wandhand was fast ... but so were bullets.
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Post by Evelyn Winters on Aug 18, 2017 19:42:35 GMT
She shifted her bag onto the arm linked to Hazel's, "Making far more practical decisions without me, I'm sure," She winked at her friend, "We both know I'm a bad influence."
As they turned, Evelyn quietened and cast her eyes around the street, trying not to let them stray to the harsh metal weapons some of the less desirable muggles were carrying.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Aug 19, 2017 19:16:10 GMT
They reached a short side street that ended in clay wall. Despite the location of the street in the center of the busy bazaar, the area was strangely empty. Crowds passing by didn't even look into the street, their gaze seemed to drift away as they came close.
Hazel pulled a paper from her pocket and studied it. "Keep an eye out? I don't want to get slapped with a fine if one of the muggles notices the wand." She slid her wand from her holster while continuing to look at the paper.
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Post by Evelyn Winters on Aug 22, 2017 17:50:50 GMT
Evelyn turned her back to Hazel and kept an eye on the bustling muggles within the bazaar. "All clear."
She made a show of looking for something in her bag as to not look too conspicuous. She pulled out a lipstick and re-applied her shade.
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Post by Hazel Hobbs on Aug 25, 2017 8:25:05 GMT
Hazel quickly raised the wand and began tracing a shape on the wall. As her wand moved, the pattern sunk into the clay. It was a simple rectangle with a line down the middle. As the middle line met the line at the bottom, the whole thing began to glow and then slide apart.
"There, the hotel shouldn't be too far from here." Hazel gave the gap a satisfied look.
On the other side of the gap was more markets, but these were distinct from their muggle counterparts. Here the cheap models of the sphinx that were being sold to tourists got up and occasionally licked a paw. Further down the twisting street, a man was selling animals, some in parts.
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