The Llantywyll Incident.v2: GM- Thomas

Settings and Time Period: Wales, 1863.

Letter of Introduction: Cigar smoke wafted throughout the Rose House lounge as the men passed around Dr. Janet Evans’ letter. Professor Bertram mumbled as he read it, “Minor cave-in at a slate mine in the village of Llantywyll, local Methodist minister preaching in the mine despite local superstition that signs of Christianity are bad luck in the mines. Fortune him the only one injured… with a broken leg. Fortune not all the congregation attended such that some were outside and able to dig out the collapse. The mine since closed due to constant safety problems.” Aneirin bemused, “My father worked in a coal mine. Spoke of ‘knockers’ that dwelled therein. Mischievous pranksters stealing tools; some even said caused disasters.”

Father Percy Eaton (Bill) 43yo Catholic Priest. It wasn’t till he joined the Rose House that he learned not all vaesen are bad. Sometimes, people need protection from themselves.

Aneirin ap Sayre (Leslie) Minstrel/Bard. Plays songs on his Tin-Whistle from his English/Irish/Welsh songbook. Due to a prior encounter, Aneirin has been obsessed with finding out the truth behind all the old tales & superstitions.

Ingvald Ohm (Mikc) 15yo Vagabond, Occultist. A young, wiry, shadowy man with a cocky air and a sharp tongue. Accompanied by his dog, Milla, a scruffy terrier mongrel.

Bertram Wellingsworth (Curtis) middle-aged, paunch man. Professor with a degree in Folklore. Knowledge derived from books and his own encounters.

Malcum Laxford (John W) 44yo Occultist from Shetland, Ireland.  Performs traditional medicine for the sick and injured, and seances/divination for the wealthy. A gaunt man of average height with an air of quiet calmness and introspect.

Ingvald stepped out of the shadows and plopped in a chair with Milla jumping on his lap. The scruffy kid grabbed a cigar from the tin and lit up…  and coughed a few times. “Street urchins like myself. That’s who’s causing the problems.” Malcum laughed with an Irish twang, “You might be right that it is an impish threat, but I prefer to think the minister at fault. I’ve seen this before… man ignoring local folklore.” All the while, Father Percy silently sat in his chair fingering his rosary hung around his neck. Lost in thought… to enter the mine stripped naked of his Christian belongings. Having to rely solely (or is that soul-ly) on his faith. And voices in his head taunted him.

Resources and Research: Malcum and Bertram exited the Rose House storeroom with a crowbar and hurricane lamp. With train tickets in hand, departure in 4 hours, the men used those hours to scour the library. (Except for Ingvald who seemed to be laying low.)

• They found a newspaper article repeating the story of the 10-day old mine accident. 50 congregants including the local rescue brigade along with the minister trapped in the roof collapse. The mine owner, Mrs. Myfanwy Thomas, called in a geological team to help get the mine back in operation.

• Aneirin confirmed slate mines are known to be safer than coal mines subject to gas pockets. Slate mine accidents more resulting from negligence.

• The only folklore Malcum found was related to London. He’d have to wait till he got into Wales to actually research their folklore.

Train Ride: The men settled in their coach car aboard the Great-Western-Railway train and soon grew accustomed to the constant “clickety-clack” chatter of the wheels as the train chugged northwest toward Liehfield and Chester, then westward along the ‘South Wales Railway’ line (change of trains since this railway was built on a smaller gauge track) toward the village of Llantywyll. It was a 6-hour ride considering all the stops to refill the water tank and coal bin used to power the steam engine.

Malcum used the time to interact with fellow travelers while dressed as a medium and fortune-teller (more rustic look of his native Shetlands decorated with bits of animal fur, bones, and Christian and Norse pagan symbols). There were a few Welsh folks traveling home who spoke of their traditional superstitions and made the same conclusion he’d come to, “Someone did something they shouldn’t have.”

During the train ride, Ingvald pinched his nose trying to block the stench of the steam-engine. He eventually ‘retrieved’ a clothespin from a fellow traveler and clipped his nose. Meanwhile, Bertram swaddled his fruitcake in layers of paper hoping to avoid the steam-stench permeating his food.

Arrival: It was 7pm dinnertime when they finally rolled into Llantywyll. Porters stood at the bottom of the ladder to aid with luggage. And give queer looks to the non-Welsh travelers. At least Aneirin was able to converse in their native tongue, “Can you direct us to Dr. Evan’s house?” It was a long walk south thru town, turning left at ‘The Dragon’ tavern. Bertram paused, “Couldn’t we stop to wet our whistles?” Aneirin took notice of the tavern’s sign and realized, “A dragon has 6 limbs- 4 legs and 2 wings. This only has 4 limbs, making it a Wyvern. Does this symbolize vengeance as in ‘slaying one’s dragon’, or protection, or the war related ideals of ‘courage and strength’?”

They stopped at the shingle displaying intertwined snakes and knocked. Dr. Evan soon answered the door, “You’ve come! Carrying your bags. Oh, my letter. Sorry, I meant I made arrangements for you at the Railway Hotel.” She blushed, “It would be improper for a lady to have 5 men stay the night. But please do come back for supper.” Before leaving, Father Percy noticed her medical bookshelf held a copy of Darvin’s Origin of Species. “Strange that you would have such book displayed.” Janet corrected, “On the contrary. Anatomical reference material covering the evolution of man.” Malcum added, “You should read it Father for Darvin references God throughout his text.”

The Doctor’s House: They checked into the Railway Hotel to drop off their bags and freshen up. As they were leaving, they noticed only 2 patrons in the dining room hunched over notes and papers with their dinner plates pushed to the side. At the doctor’s house, Father said prayers over their simple meal of stew and bread. As they ate, Janet explained, “Thanks again for coming on short notice. I’ve only lived here 10 years; southern Welsh. Normally every villager attends services, but on that Sunday service in the mine, 35 folks stayed home. Sudden stomach aches that just as suddenly went away when the church bells peeled out warning of the mine collapse.”

They ate and talked. “The owner? Mrs. Myfanwy Thomas took over when her husband died 10-15 years ago. No, no mining accident; just old age. She’s desperate to get the mine up and running. She called in two surveyors. Yes, they ARE at the same hotel. Mr. Dylan Roberts and Louis Morgan. No blasting at the mine. They use mechanical saws to carve out manageable pieces following veins about 500ft deep. This is the 1^st accident I’ve heard of, although the town folk are still closed lip around me even after 10 years. I DID hear mention of ‘Coblyn’ although I’m not familiar with that Welsh term.”

Aneirin perked up at the word, “Coblyn? Welsh version of the ‘Knockers’ I was talking about. Prone to dislike Christian prayers, whistling, cursing, swearing. I wonder if me playing my tin-whistle counts?” Malcum chimed in, “Like I said, in my younger days, I experienced similar scenes of outsiders disrespecting old beliefs. Just how long has Rev Griffith been your minister?” Janet lamented, “He came from London 9-10 months ago with his ‘Fire-and-Brimstone’ sermons. Ridiculed the people’s ‘paganistic’ views. Said how he needed to ‘baptize the mine’. The people attend service out of respect for authority, but they grumble at his sermons.”

As the men pushed away from the table with loud belches to signify their approval of dinner, they excused themselves. Father Percy off to visit the Reverend, Bertram to the hotel and the engineers, and the others to the tavern to chat with the locals. “Mine is closed, no work tomorrow; where else would they be if not home?”

Tavern: Per Dr. Evan’s suggestion, they looked for “old Dae Davies” among the 20ish patrons at The Dragon tavern. Not hard to find considering the bulk of the large man and the crowd gathered round the man who was spinning yarns. Till they got too close, and the crowd hushed. Till Malcum, in his Irish handcuffs of each hand occupied with mugs, offered Dae another beer to replace his empty mug. Malcum mentioning ‘Coblyn’ had no effect; so, he pulled out his runes and began a séance (2 success). He paused to read the thrown bones, “A spirit says I should ask about Hubak Jones.” Dae spit some of his beer before composing himself, “Ken tell by ye accent ye a Shetlander. Can’t say I ever knew a Shetlander before.” Malcum corrected, “Well, you do now.”

Dae continued with a smile, “Aye, ye must have the spirits’ ear. Hubak ye say. Mined with me father, cursed like a sailor and could make a lady-of-the-night blush. Till he cursed inside the mine that day. Staggering down drunk he was. Tried to get to his feet but his knee suddenly wrenched out of socket. Had to crawl out with de help of me father. Came back the next day to atone… left a bottle of whiskey as offering he did. It never seen again nor did Huback ever enter the mine again.” When asked about the Rev Griffith, “The words ‘pagan’ crossed his lips once or twice. Unlike our prior reverend who was born and raised here. Respected the old ways.”

Rev Griffith: Father Percy knocked on the door and was greeted by Gladis. “I’m sorry, but it is late, and the reverend needs his rest to recuperate from his broken leg.” Percy pleaded his case (three 6s), “I won’t be long, but I’ve come all the way from London.” Gladys showed him to the parlor to wait. She soon returned and led him into the study where the reverend sat in a wheelchair as he wrote under a desk lamp. He put his ink pen down, “I’m drafting my next sermon. Why would a Catholic priest come all this way to bother a Methodist minister?”

Percy explained the invite from Dr. Evans, “I know we are different faiths, but I thought I could offer you comfort in your sufferings.” The minister thanked him, “The leg is of no concern. It’s the paganistic beliefs of my parishioners that need healing. They are like the Hebrews in the Old Testament worshiping false gods and their heathen superstitions. No Christian items inside the mines. Surely, you’d agree God’s domain is everywhere. That is why I tried to hold service within the mine. To ‘baptize the world’ as God commanded. I may not have been able to complete my sermon, but I proved God was there, for HE kept us from danger. Others say I was hit by a thrown rock. I only wrenched my knee as I tried to move others to safety. As soon as I heal, I’ll return to the mine to complete the ‘Baptism’.” Father Percy realized any argument would be fruitless if not antagonizing; so, he said goodnight with blessings.

The Geologists: Bertram found the men still at the table although the dinner plates removed. He brought them a fresh pot of hot coffee, “I can see you are deep in thought on a troubling matter. You must be the surveyors Mrs. Thomas hired.” They accepted the coffee, “You’ve heard? I’m Dylan Roberts and this is Louis Morgan. Geologist and Engineer at your service. Damn puzzling matter. Slate mines are normally safe. There are no structural problems we’ve found. Baffling to say the least.” Louis prodded Dylan, “Tell him about the chisel marks.”

Bertram raised his brows, “Are you saying sabotage?” Dylan hesitated before confessing, “Unless they were children. And children are not allowed in the mines. And we did not see any. So, unless they were invisible… All I can tell you: yesterday we used good-ole English logs to buttress the walls. Toughest wood around. Yet, within 30 minutes, they snapped like twigs. Fortunately, we had plenty of warning with the wood creaking and cracking. Got out minutes before it collapsed.”

Louis excitedly added, “Strangest thing when we re-entered to check the timber. Tiny chisel marks strategically placed to cause a slow collapse with a lot of warning sounds. Not only that, I swear I heard a hammer pounding on the rocks as if sounding another warning just in case we didn’t hear the wood.” Dylan interrupted, “Sorry for my partner. It’s been a long week wracking our brains on this one. He tends to get carried away.” Louis was adamant, “OK then, explain the sideways rocks. As if thrown. One hit me. And only you and I were in the mine at the time.” Dylan pulled out his pocket watch, “It’s getting late, and we need our rest. We’ve a long day ahead of us. Another attempt to shore up the mine.”

Church Bells: Father Percy ran into Bertram as they both returned to the tavern. But they were interrupted by the clanging of church bells. And the mad scramble of folks exiting the tavern and nearby homes as they dashed north toward the mine. Some still in their nightwear. They all joined the throng of men, “What’s going on? We thought the mine was closed.” But their inquiries were answered by silence as the men ran faster.

The gate to the iron-fence surrounding the mine complex was jimmied open. Two men stood over another man prone in the courtyard. Percy and Malcum were first at the prone-man’s side. Blood poured from a deep cut across his face. Percy applied pressure as Malcum treated the cut best he could, “Hold on. The doctor is coming.”

Meanwhile, Ingvald noticed one of the other men try to slip away. He followed in the shadows of the buildings (three 6s) as the man approached the mine entrance, stopped and pulled out a bottle from his inside coat pocket and lay it on the ground, then removed another bundle from his outside pocket to put next to it, and began to mumble. The man jumped when Bertram spoke, “Excuse me. What are you doing?” The man staggered backwards, “Quiet! You don’t want what happened to Fin happen to you.” Ingvald pressed the matter, “And what would that be?” The answer, “Fin whistled.”

Safely away from the mine entrance, Owen confessed, “We were trying to placate the Coblyn with whiskey and cake. But Fin… had too much to drink, which loosened his tongue. Cursing and whistling. Fool. Not only that, but he also offered them cheap whiskey. Must have offended the little buggers, cause next thing we know, bottle comes flying at him. Cracked him in the head it did. Busted his face up good. Damn, I mean darn minister’s fault for stirring up trouble.”

And that’s when they all noticed the bell stopped clanging. And the men confessed, “We didn’t send anyone to ring the bell.” Ingvald took off at a sprint, leaving Malcum to continue chatting with Owen who evaluated his offerings left at the mine entrance, “At least I bought the best whiskey in town. And ordered that sweet-cake all the way from Ireland.” But Malcum cautioned, “I’ve seen this before. You really think it will work without the reverend making an apology?”

By now Aneirin got into the conversation, “I think all the townfolk need to reject the reverend and send him packing.” Percy added his 2-bits, “The man is stubborn and blind to the lore. He’s already planning his next sermon inside the mine once he’s back on his feet. The villagers rejecting him will only bolster his belief they are pagans worshiping false gods. I think it will take the local Methodist Bishop to remove him.”

Church Bells: Ingvald poked his head inside the church vestibule and noticed the bell rope swinging in the wind. He looked back towards the crushed-slate rock path… and noticed small prints appearing. As if something invisible walked the path! Ingvald reached into his vest and held out his sniffer, “Can’t thank you enough for sounding the alarm.” The prints stopped. A small hand suddenly appeared as it reached for the sniffer. Then the whole arm appeared. 

And soon the hairy form of the Coblyn that lifted the sniffer and guzzled before handing it back. Ingvald asked, “Knew you didn’t really mean to hurt anyone; how can we help?” In answer, “Stop man in black. He far gone. We offended.” Ingvald reasoned, “OK, so we kill him. You want to be left in peace. Anything else?” Another reply, “Fire water and sweet-cake good.” Ingvald gave him the sniffer, “It’s yours.” The flask disappeared along with the Coblyn as small prints continued northward back to the mine.

Ingvald also returned to the mine to meetup with the others, “You’ll never believe who I met! I offered to kill the reverend, but the little-knocker said sweets will do.” Now Percy became concerned… was Ingvald serious in his offer? But by now they all came to the same conclusion, “Churches normally have a local patron for financial support. I’m guessing its Mrs. Thomas donating wealth from her mine operations. SHE’s the one to best convince the area Bishop to remove Rev Griffith.”

11pm: The plan was to wait till morning. But Father Percy was concerned, “I only chatted with the reverend a little while, but the man is obsessed. Once he hears the townfolk are against him, or hears more talk of Coblyn attacking a local, he’ll wheel himself into the mine to ‘baptize’ the place.” Ingvald spoke up, “Then I’ll just camp here at the mine and keep watch in case he does. Don’t worry Father, I won’t kill the man. Maybe just break his other leg. Just kidding.” Percy felt there was a bit of truth… but was it the kidding, or breaking of a leg?

And that’s when Aneirin noticed the old man (70ish) walking the fence-line. He approached the night watchman, “Excuse me. Excuse me sir.” When Aneirin tapped the man’s shoulder, he spun around, “You’re not supposed to be here!” Aneirin tried to talk with the man, asking if he’d seen Coblyn. Tried. “Huh? Speak up sonny. Cobbler? Sure, I’ll have some cobbler pie.” The old man irritated when Aneirin didn’t provide any. Aneirin quickly realized the man deaf. Probably napped thru Fin’s cursing and attack.

While the old man proved to be an inept guard, Ingvald reasoned it would be easier to watch the reverend at his house. A light was on. Ingvald peered thru the window and noticed the reverend still at his desk writing as Father had reported earlier. He also noticed something stuffed around the windowsills. And smiled as he reasoned: the Coblyn must have soundproofed the windows, so the reverend never heard the church bells. Ingvald felt comfortable enough to retire to the hotel himself.

Morning: By the time they got up for breakfast, the 2 surveyors were already walking out the door. The men ignored Ingvald’s calls (unimpressed with his vagabond image). The team quickly ate their laverbread (Welsh delicacy of edible seaweed in sea salt), eggs, bacon, and porridge meal. Ingvald offered to keep an eye on the reverend, while Bertram offered to follow the surveyors “see if Owen’s offerings are gone while making sure those outsiders don’t do anything stupid.”

The others headed for Mrs. Thomas’ big 2-story house up on the hill. A butler answered the door. Posh, English accent with a Welsh undertone – a Welshman trying to be a proper British servant. Jeeves asked, “Do you have an appointment?” Aneirin, Malcum, and Percy each offered reasons that did not impress the butler. Till Malcum explained, “We’re here to help get the mine back in operation.” Jeeves wiggled his thin mustache, “You should have led with that. If you’ll wait in the parlor.”

CLIMAX: Malcum explained his past experience of outsiders meddling with old traditions and local folklore. Aneirin repeated his own father’s mining experience with ‘knockers’, “That’s what you have here. Disrespect within their home. Rev Griffith antagonized them.” Father Percy added, “Rev Griffith is dead set to purge your mines in the name of God. You MUST remove him from office before he repeats his sermon within the mine.”

Manipulation (Percy 7 + 2 from Malcum’s words + 2 from Aneirin’s effort) = 2 successes even after a Pushed re-roll.

Mrs. Myfawny Thomas dipped her ink-pen before pausing over the parchment. “I don’t know what to do or believe, but I DO want the mine open. If that means I don’t have to listen to the reverend’s loud and ‘fire and brimstone’ sermons, then so be it. I’ll write Bishop Williams. We go back a way and he owes me favors. I’m sure I can get him to find a proper replacement. BUT… if this fails… I’ll see to it you three are NEVER employed again. You’ll be banned from future work and expelled from this Rose House Society you speak of.”

EPILOGUE:

Ingvald gritted his teeth as he listened to the reverend repeat his sermon for the 4^th time. He was beginning to reconsider the threat of killing the man.

Aneirin convinced the miners to bring more offerings to the mines, “The good stuff!”

Bertram lay his bundled fruitcake beside the miners' offerings. Ingvald cautioned, "Careful professor. Not everyone likes fruitcake. That hard-as-a-brick treat would leave a welt if thrown back at you."

Malcum talked with Dae Davies to get the word out to all miners to watch their tongue and manners within the mine. “Follow your traditions.”

Father Percy made an example of removing ALL his Christian items before approaching the mine with his own offering.

Rev Griffith received a sealed letter from the Bishop within days. He wheeled onto the train that same day. Within two days, another elder minister keen to the old ways arrived.

Finally, the surveyors signed off the mine as cleared for operations.

Dae Davies had a larger crowd gathered round as he had a new tale to tell.