Excerpts from the diary of
Mrs. Ruth Frazer


Monday, 13 September 1875

This morning finds some of us determined to at last resume our quest to find Arnwulf and Frau Metzger.  Mrs Salmalin, Mr O'Flaherty, Mrs Cuthbert, and I plan to call upon the Baroness von Erbersbach.  We hope to learn something.  We have been unable to find any sign of Arnwulf by scrying, but all the information we have suggests that the Baroness is at least somewhat responsible for his disappearance. 

If our information regarding the ritual of transferring the curse is correct, it will be undertaken at the full moon, which is on Sept 15.  She must have Arnwulf nearby.  We will have to improvise when we arrive at the von Erbersbach chateau.  We don't know whether we will be admitted, if the Baroness will tell us the truth, or if she or her servants will attack us outright. 

I hope we will simply be able to reason with her.  Indications from Feldwebel Adele von Erbersbach suggest that she is not a reasonable or compassionate person, but her daughter's opinion is considerably biased.  If her sole motivation is to release her son from the curse, and she is too single-minded to think much about consequences to others, then we might still be able to persuade her to let us find a better way--it would be in her best interest to avoid a conflict with us.  However, if she is actively seeking the destruction that the Fenris entity can cause with Arnwulf as a host, then we will simply need to stop her by whatever means come to hand.

One rather peculiar point, whose meaning is not yet clear, is that our partisans at the Lodge reported that the werewolves who attacked there were talking among themselves about their purpose.  They had come to our lodge not simply to harass our families (though there is no doubt they thought that would be amusing), but to find Atlantean crystals.  Might these be needed for the ritual?

One other point of interest is the arrival of a band of Gypsies on the Lodge grounds, and with them is Mr James Whitnell.  He has been travelling with them, in disguise, presumably since the Anarchist uprising in Romania last month, when Mrs Salmalin learned by scrying that he had helped rescue Princess Elisabeth and her daughter when her household was taken captive.  Mr Whitnell and the princesses had taken refuge with these gypsies and thus escaped the conspiracy.

These are actual Romany persons, not the vagabonds or tinkers we call gypsies in Britain.  They are  known for being secretive and not generally accepting of outsiders.  Despite this reputation, Mr James Whitnell has been travelling with them, and to all evidence is quite at home among them and respected by the band's leaders.  From that vantage has been assessing the political situation in this part of the Continent, particularly with regard to Anarchist activities.   He joined us for breakfast, so Mrs Salmalin was able to spend a little time visiting with him, but we are obliged to go on with our task. 


Wednesday, 15 September, 1875

I have lost several days as a result of our adventures, which I find highly vexing.

I do have some things to be glad of--all of our partisans and allies survived, our enemies were defeated, and I am at least well enough to hobble about assisting the others who were more gravely injured.

I will begin with our visit to the von Erbersbach chateau.  We approached in our best visiting clothes (with suitable gear beneath, of course).  We had just come onto the grounds when I realised that Frau Metzger was nearby.  We also met Hauptmann Stahlmachersson and his patrol--Adele von Erbersbach, Lichtenwaller, and Garvey.

The Baroness condescended to admit us.  The Hauptmann simply presented his badge with an attitude that brooked no refusal, and though the Baroness made some highly insulting comments regarding the law enforcement profession, he would not be provoked (the barbs were intended for Adele, and she was  obviously feeling quite as provoked as I, but she restrained herself with evident effort).

The Baroness maintained that the Captain of her guard had been relieved of duty sometime since, and any misguided actions he may have taken were not at all to her account. She insisted that she had nothing whatever to do with Arnwulf's abduction. She was all wide-eyed innocence as she offered to let us search her premises. 

I made a final offer, as we prepared to begin our search.  I told the Baroness that I understood the necessity she was under to save her son from a curse, but that we would be willing to help her save him without harming others--I assured her that we could find a way to do it.  I further assured her that we would stop any ritual that would harm Arnwulf or release the Fenris entity.  We could be her allies, or her opponents, and she would find the former far preferable.  Her answer, both in tone and in her continued feigned innocence, made it clear to me that not only did she not believe our ability to help, but that she really didn't care about anyone other than herself and her son.  Thus I was assured that when we defeated her, I need have no qualms, nor give any quarter. 

I quickly joined the others in the search of the chateau.  Mrs Cuthbert and Mrs Salmalin followed their mystical senses, on the assumption that whatever power could conceal Arnwulf would show itself in some fashion if approached so closely.  We found our way into the cellars, some of which had a suspiciously dungeon-like atmosphere, and looked into a number of rooms.  We came across a variety of strange artefacts, to the degree that Mrs Salmalin speculated they were intended to lure us off the true trail.

When we reached an area I adjudged to extend out beyond the house itself, to below the outbuildings on the North (?) side of the chateau, we found another door, beyond which the Mystics felt a strong emanation.

We opened the door and saw a round room of about 30 ft diameter.  In the centre was a cylindrical slab about knee height and 6 ft in diameter, which was incised with a familiar design--it was very similar to the so-called clock we had seen in Nituriax's cavern, save that this one was generously endowed with  crystals.  The Hugo fragments still with us exclaimed in vexation that Master Schultz must have built it--his family had owned this chateau before the von Erbersbach family, and he had collaborated on related projects with Master Zacharias. 

In the centre of this design lay 2 slender objects of worked wood, which I recognised from one of the paintings of the Godmothers--I am loath to use this trite description, but they were obviously magical wands.  They were aligned together so that if one chose to interpret them as clock's hands, with ourselves standing at the "6" position, they read about 5 minutes before 12.

Also in the room were 4 standing frames, as for a cheval glass, but empty of the expected mirror.   The frames were situated at 4 cardinal points, facing inward around the stone slab.  Several of us immediately perceived a possible connection with Lady Rosamund and her affinity for mirrors.  I was just contemplating why someone would set such a painfully obvious trap, as though we could possibly be foolish enough to walk into a room thus arrayed, when all three of my companions walked blithely through the doorway.  I had not even a moment to object--Lady Rosamund's voice rang out in an emphatic "Facio!"  and I watched in horror as my companions suddenly halted in mid-motion, suspended.  I had only a heartbeat in which to perceive this--I felt a wind-like sensation of the world moving past me.  I looked upward, tilting my head so slowly, and I could see a window high above, where the sky brightened to noon, and on to afternoon and evening, nightfall, moonrise, dawn, through another day and a night, and suddenly, like the snap of a taut string, I fell back into the world. 

Circumstances had changed in the instant of my being bound, and I was instantly embroiled in a fracas.  I was knocked into the room by a tumbling Mr Salmalin, and had no sooner raised my head from the floor than a flying werewolf knocked me down again.  The room was now full of people halted in the midst of enacting some kind of ritual, and rapidly filling with League partisans as well.

Mrs Cuthbert, Mrs Salmalin, Mr O'Flaherty and I had all emerged from the time effect the same moment-- it seems that we had disappeared in some way, being kept out of reach of rescue. 

It didn't take us long to catch on and pitch in to the task at hand once we were in the world again, it was not difficult to tell friend from foe.  There were a number of ritual participants in plain monkish robes, and among them in chains was Arnwulf.  The Baroness was there among them, as was the captain of her household guard (though once Mrs Wooster came in, he was soon decisively put out of action).

Most of this imbroglio was as usual for us.  The werewolves of the Baroness's retinue were surprised, I think, that a group of humans could do anything against them.  They did not have to endure the humiliation for long. 

One of the unusual highlights of this phase of our conflict was that Sir Cosmo picked up the two wands from the slab and tried them out with the Latin we had heard earlier--"Facio" .  He discovered that one of them would turn a target into a frog, while the other would turn a target into a  large, plump mangold wurzel root.  This seems frankly ridiculous, but I assure you it is altogether in keeping with the rest of this trip.

Mr O'Flaherty used his sword to crack the stone slab.  Shortly thereafter, though, he found he could not hold his sword--the touch of it hurt his hand.   He handed his sword to Mrs Wooster, though it was noticeable large for her to wield.  He began to grow taller (if you can imagine that!) and to transform.  His skin turned gray; his ears grew long and pointed; horns like a bull's sprouted from his temples and transfixed his top hat.  His feet burst from his shoes and became cloven hooves.  The worst was that his eyes seemed to slide together and merge into one cyclopean eye.  He had been so worried  in the past week about transforming into a werewolf, not believing any reassurances.  This creature he had become was not wolf-like at all. Although in some ways more horrible, it was better than a werewolf in at least one key point--Mr O'Flaherty's judgement and morality were still his own, and whatever his occasional shortcomings in those areas, he is a far cry from the vicious monster he was afraid of becoming.

I should mention that this round room proved to be a disused granary tower.  Although this room was dug down into the earth, above us was a wide door, opening at ground level.  Around the time Mr O'Flaherty began changing, this door blew inward, and we could hear sounds of another battle above--the booming report of Sir Spencer's elephant gun rang out, and shouts from Lt Wooster, the snarling and baying of werewolves.  I had suggested to Mr O'Flaherty to go out and help--he was some 20 feet tall by now, and if he kept growing, he would not be able to get out of the doorway.  I climbed up the rough stone wall to look out the door, and had barely glimpsed Sir Spencer, injured, with his back to the outside wall of the granary, and Inspector MacGreggor facing a very large werewolf, when I was knocked back, losing my grip on the wall.  Fortunately, Mr Frazer was just below and caught me handily.  I rewarded him with a quick kiss and clambered back up again.

I made it all the way out onto the ground this time.  I was somewhat at a loss as to how best to help my friends.  Wolfgang von Erbersbach had made his grand entrance, in his wolf form, but growing insanely large.  If that weren't enough, all three of the vargr werewolves were here now, and each of them was wreaking his own variety of havoc.  There were also still a handful of the Baroness' outdoor staff--not surprisingly, all of them werewolves and all fighting us ferociously.  My pistol had little effect on most of the wolves, and even my rifle would only briefly inconvenience them, but I could occasionally provide a distraction at a critical moment.

On our side, we had not only Lt Wooster, Mr Caine, Sir Spencer, and Inspector MacGreggor doing their best despite various injury, also James Whitnell made a surprising appearance, followed by M Berri, who brazenly flew in and snatched Mr Whitnell out of the figurative and literal jaws of death.  They were arguing in a way that suggested that they are well acquainted, indeed on terms of some intimacy.  Mr Whitnell was using a sort of garden sprayer, which he told me later was filled with a particular solution of silver nitrate, which seemed to be caustic to the wolves.

We had an additional ally in the form of an enormous cat.  In conformation, it was a ginger tabby tomcat.  In size, rather larger than a tiger.  This proved to be a very peculiar character, a shape-changing gentleman named Herr von Arendong, who had been selected and abducted by the Baroness to be the sacrifice in the transference ritual.  He was already acquainted with most of our partisans, having attended several of the festivities of the past week, but I had not yet met him.  I don't think any of us had any idea that he could turn into a giant cat, but again, this type of thing seems to be commonplace here in Carpania, so perhaps it was simply not worth mentioning.

One of the vargr werewolves demonstrated that power of wind, which some of us had seen on the road in Prussia, of blowing hard upon us and sending us flying.  I was blown hard against the granary tower, and then the tower itself was blown down.  Fortunately for me, it fell in and down away from me, not onto me.  Unfortunately, several persons of our party were within the tower room, including Mr Frazer, Mrs Salmalin, the unconscious Mrs Wooster, Frau Metzger, and young Arnwulf.

I had only just shaken myself out of a daze from my impact with the tower, and was only starting to realize that my husband was under some tonnes of stone rubble, when I heard his voice filtering up from below--they were alive and making an escape.  Arnwulf had taken a new form--that of an Oryad such as I saw in the Dwarf mines--and with it the power to shape and shift stone.  This four-year-old child had saved not only himself but many persons very dear to me by his quick thinking and his astounding abilities. 

Meanwhile, out on the lawn, the fighting continued.  Sir Cosmo and Lady Cowperthwaite made an appearance, and they made liberal use of the powers of the wands, and then of the etheric pulse weapons.  In time, most of the wolves were at least temporarily subdued, except for Wolfgang von Erbersbach, who was now some 30 feet tall at the shoulder.  We rained all our collective mayhem upon him, including large-calibre rifle fire, enchanted sword slashes (at this point the sword was in Wilhelmina's hands), etheric charges, and Mr O'Flaherty's new claws.  The Wolfgang/Fenris seemed annoyed, certainly, but on the whole he was shrugging off our worst.

Next thing I knew, Mr Salmalin had scrambled up the creature's flank and allowed it to swallow him. I learned shortly that Mr Salmalin had taken one of  Wilhelmina's unstable autenite bombs into the wolf's mouth, and avoiding the teeth, he slid down the gullet to the stomach, and proceeded to cut his way out from the inside--leaving the explosive within.  This finally did the trick.  Once a cavernous hole had erupted in the Fenris' belly, he collapsed.  Fortunately for the cleanup crew, he shrank back down to the relatively pitiful form of Wolfgang. 

The Fenris and the three vargr "sons" of the Fenris were collected up and carried via Prince Stefan's aerocorvette to Lake Schwärzestersee, and dropped in.  According to folkloric and mystic sources (mainly Mrs Salmalin's late aunt), this lake is where the Fenris was previously imprisoned.  I would have preferred to find some place more secure, since we know the Fenris has escaped from this location at least once now, but I certainly lack the resources to research in this field. 

Most of us simply went back to Sir Spencer's lodge.  The children were obviously relieved to see us mostly in one piece, having spent the last couple of days wondering what had become of us. 

Since our first foray on Tuesday had resulted in the disappearance of four of us and several of our Prussian police allies, and the next party consisting of Sir Spencer, Lt Wooster, Mr Caine and Inspector MacGreggor had also vanished, increasing scrutiny, searching and speculation had turned up only the strangest clues.  Although Prince Stefan and James Whitnell had assisted, I think it was really Helen and Lord Greyminster who spearheaded the investigation.  It would seem that some of our children, who could not reliably be kept away, proved insightful investigators, and exercised a reasonable degree of caution for their personal safety.  How gratifying.

Now that we have saved the world from the threat of the Fenris Curse,  we have returned to the Lodge. We have reassured our children, made our wounded as comfortable as may be.  Mr Frazer has bandaged my ribs for me, and I have put plasters on his various abrasions, and a few stitches into a gash on his forearm.    I will now make another round to see that everyone has what they need for the night, and I will try to get some sleep.  


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