Can I still join? If so, I'm bringing Cortana (my AE), books, and chocolate.

I would love to come, if there are two spots open. (Pellucid is coming as well.)

Packing list:

Pellucid

Pocketknife

1900s clothing 

Mystery books

Small audiobook player with Holmes mysteries loaded

Mp3 player with jazz + ragtime loaded (This was popular then, i checked)

Almost invisible earbuds

“Halloo!” A coach driver yelled as his carriage whizzed past Brookeria.

“Good morning, sir.” She yelled back at the carriage wheels.

Brookeria looked around, but didn’t see any street signs, or for that matter, clues that could lead her to 221 Baker Street and Sherlock Holmes. She stumbled around in the thick London for, until she ran into a man. He had a thin face, serious eyes, and the unmistakeable double-billed hat of Mr. Sherlock Holmes

____________________

Sherlock Holmes looked very impressive as he silently stood in a corner, looking like he was waiting for someone. Then the door to 221 Baker Street flew open, and a shorter, blonde man walked into the entrance.

“You have been out almost all day.” Sherlock yelled at the intruder.

“Ah, yes. I was delivering those papers to Scotland Yard. Like. You. Told. Me. To.” The blonde man glared at Sherlock.

“Yes, now I remember.” Sherlock’s face lightened.

“And who is that?”

“A person.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Yes.”

“What about you introduce me.” The blonde man was starting to glare again.

“Miss Brookeria, meet Dr. John Watson.” Sherlock said, pointing a hand at the blonde man. “Dr. Watson, meet Miss Brookeria.” He pointed the hand at Brookeria.

“Great, then what about you meet the menagerie, Miss. Brookeria?” Sherlock extended his hand to the sitting room.

“Sherlock, we had the talk about calling people animals.” Watson pointed at the sitting room. “They are humans, not monkeys.”

“Dr. Watson, we had the talk were I told you humans were apes. What about you go make supper.”

“Dinner. Dinner! DINNER!!!!!!!” Watson yelled. “I am your servant now? Go make Ms. Hudson do it.”

“I told you, she is not a servant.”

“But I am?”

“Well, you can not place meat in a stove?”

Ok, I will go cook, because I am your servant.”

When Watson left to the kitchen, grumbling, Sherlock confided to Brookeria: “He is ornery sometimes.”

____________

The sitting room was darkly lit as Brookeria walked in, and it made her wonder who loitered around Sherlock Holmes house. A girl in what looked like armor twirled a dagger between her fingers as she sat on a couch arm. Another figure sat by a table while scribbling in a notebook, no doubt recording ill-gotten information. In a chair, someone fiddled with a piece of machinery.

Then , suddenly, the lights flicked on, and some more people walked in. The room looked far safer in the light. The girl who was twirling the dagger stopped.

“Hello,” She said. “I am Sir Joan B. of Ark. Booksy and Jack-a-Nat said they could fix the lights. They have been working on it for hours.”

“Uh, hi!” Brookeria said, a little shakily.

Brookeria was promptly introduced to Jack-a-Nat and Booksy Owl, the two ‘technicians,’ Kate-the-Great, and Applejaguar.

“Oh,” Sherlock walked into the room, and immediately started talking. “I should note that your Æs have left to some market. They want to buy some candy.”

He collapsed into a large armchair, and started ripping pages off of a notebook he had in his hand.

“Oh, and Watson is fixing supper. I think it will be ready soon.” Sherlock continued while still throwing paper everywhere.

_________________

As soon as the painful ordeal of supper was over, Watson walked out into the market. It was soothing. There were no problems, no stress, no murders. He could just walk around the marketplace.

When the paper hit Watson’s face, he was totally unprepared. He stumbled back before he pulled it from his eyes. lHe scanned it, then ran back to 221 Baker Street, for Sherlock Holmes.

_______________

“Here is what the letter says:” Sherlock Holmes began.

“Dear CBers;

We have kidnapped your Æs. Surrender yourself, or both you and your Æs will die.

One clue to make this more interesting for us:

When falling from grace, the highest fall to the lowest.

Signed;

M²”

________________

To be continued...

Oh dear. I will be closing spots, but the following people are in:

Applejaguar

Booksy Owl

Kate-the-Great 

Brookeria

September

Aquina

Jack-a-Nat

Joan B. of Arc

Shadowmoon

Here are the AEs I have:

Shadowmoon's AES: Sir Richard and Echsong

Kate-the-Great's AEs: Brian and Ellek

September: AE: Cortona

Aquina's AE: Pelucid

Joan B. of Ark's AEs: Ariel and Galahad

Applejaguar's AE: Rosario

The following people have no AEs: 

Brookeria and Booksy Owl.

@Jack-a-Nat: can you please select two AEs to have with you in this story?\

Extra notes: people may be criminals. There are sever criminals in this Ski Lodge, so you may be a bad guy. And there are like five bad guys, so be warned. 

“Great, great. We are talking about books while your AEs are kidnapped, and we have been threatened by death.” Watson was yelling.

Sherlock was playing against Booksy Owl and Brookeria in Chess, and everyone else in cards. He was winning both games, and had a smirk on his face. The only person not at ease was Dr. John Watson. Even Sherlock looked happy as he filed the letter from M² in a filing cabinet marked “Death Threats,” but watson was prowling around like a caged panther.

“He is always like this in a crisis.” Sherlock whispered to Brookeria and Booksy Owl. He slid a Rook forward and captured their King, then he directed himself to Watson. “My dear fellow, M Squared has made his move. I must be sure to make mine in the correct manner. I must be careful and diligent. We must wait until we know were the blasted AEs are, for one thing.”

____________________

Waiter scurried around the restaurant like rats. Lights blazed. Two well dressed figures sat across from each other. The table in between them was covered in papers and folders. Both men were scribbling furiously.

“Well, Charles, Stage One is finished.” One of the figures said.

A waiter hurried towards the table, who’s paper had been hastily put into folders and locked in a briefcase.

“Your soups, sirs: Here is your crab bisque, mr Moriarty, and here is your potato and leek soup, Mr. Milverton” The waiter said in a faint French accent.

_________________

Seven figures burst into 221 Baker Street. Sherlock grabbed a foil, and crept into the hallway.

“Ah, hello,” He exclaimed. “I believe this is Shadowmoon, Aquina, and September, with their AEs, of course.”

The four AEs scurried to the supply room, where Sherlock kept a rather dangerous amount of explosives and weaponry for such a small house. Sherlock threw the foil into a large bust of Shakespeare, which shattered, leaving the foil sticking out of the wall.

_______________

To be continued...

Ariel sat with the other Æs in the little cell. Water dripped from the ceiling.

“Humph.” Rosario grumbled. “I shouldn’t have let Applejaguar borrow my notebook. Now I have nothing to do.”

A black suited figure approached walked towards the cell door.

“Hello,” The man said. His black eyes darted around the cell. “I am James Moriarty. I have kidnapped you. Now if you attack me; my bodyguards will come. So please be nice. I would hate to hurt my nice little bait.’

________________

“I got it!” Sherlock yelled. “M² is Moriarty and Milverton. It all makes sense now.”

Everyone turned to look at Sherlock, who had just made his chair crash to the floor with his leap.

“Now I know where to look.” Sherlock said.

____________

To be continued...

Oh, important safety note: this is about to get dark. Real dark. So if you want to stop looking. This Ski Lodge is more about clues and Sherlock Holmes than humor. So be warned

Also, you can guess me or one of the multiple murderers at any time.

___________________

Watson awoke to the sound of screaming. Not the shouts and curses of a Sherlock who had spilled boiling chemicals on the rug, but a girl’s scream.

Watson grabbed his revolver and ran into the hall. Booksy Owl lay dead at the end of the flight of stairs that lead from the 3rd floor to the 2nd.

____________

“Yes, that is no accident,” Sherlock Holmes said as he looked through his magnifying glass. He stopped, sniffed and said: “Smells like rust. So she may have been hit by a blunt object… or…” He trailed off.

Watson, Sherlock, and Brookeria exchanged knowing glances.

“We better call my old brother, Mycroft.” Sherlock said as he poured some very black coffee from a battered French Press.

_____________

“Sherlock, who has done this?” Mycroft looked at a small rust stain on the late Booksy Owl’s jacket. He looked straight at Shadowmoon’s lightsaber. “That rust on the metal stick; a hit to the head in those steep stairs would be risky, to say the least.”

“Yes, dear brother, I would like to talk to you in the sitting room. Kettle is on.” Sherlock replied.

An astute mind would notice the movement Sherlock made to slide the revolver Watson had left on the table by the stairwell, and Aquina noticed that movement. She peered through the keyhole at Sherlock and Mycroft.

________________

“That man is useless.” Sherlock complained bitterly out of Police Inspector Lestrade’s eatshot. He was examining the stairs in case one had broken or tipped, and had missed a note that had been placed on the body, which Mycroft and Sherlock had found in five minutes. The note read: “Tainted Steal. Look in the Weapons Room.”

___________________

Sherlock and Kate-the-Great burst into the Weapons Room. Inside, bound and gagged, were the missing Æs. Soon, anxious CBers rushed into the room.

Tied to the bindings of Ellak was another note.

“I’m back! ;(“

_______________

To be continued…

And sorry Booksy Owl; you are dead.

The lights flickered at the Seance.

Brookeria, September, Aquina, and Shadowmoon were sitting around a table, holding hands. The moon shone, and Sherlock Holmes stood in his armchair, laughing his head off.

The lights flickered.

“You have called me from the realms beyond.” A spectral voice cried.

“First level trickery. Bah!” Sherlock bellowed back. Then the pale form of Booksy Owl appeared.

“More trickery.” Sherlock sneered back.

Then there was a crash. The top of the table burst into flame, and Sherlock gasped.

The table seemed to sway, before crumbling to the floor. Then the form of an Æ ran away into the darkness. Sherlock snorted.

______________________

“Who is the murderer?” Sherlock said as he prowled around the sitting room. “I know it is one of you, or one of your Æs. Now confess, and I won’t send Scotland Yard here again; I will send Mycroft.

Then a small blue ball was thrown in. Shadowmoon rushed over, and saw it was his mini TARDIS. It had been smashed, and looked like it had just exploded. Yet another note was attached to it: “The night has fallen. The blue day is upon you. Love, Moriarty.

__________________

In the stables were the Æs had been getting horses, Shadowmoon’s Æ Sir Richard was found dead. He had obviously been hit by the mini TARDIS, and the explosion from the Chameleon Circuit being destroyed had obviously killed him.

__________________

“Well,” Sherlock said. “No time-traveler can die. If you are killed here, you teleport back to where you were before this started. So calm down. But there have been exceptions… so be careful.”

Sherlock had made a list of suspects at this point in time. It went as follows:

“Suspects for murders: Sir Richard, who was then killed by Aquina, Aquina, Joan B. Of Ark, Kate-the-Great, Shadowmoon.”

___________________________

Sherlock examined Shadowmoon’s lightsaber. It was clean of rust, but one corner was chipped…

It would be a good red herring…

__________________

Sherlock examined the late Sir Richard’s armor: it was very well polished…

Aquina had no armor, but wait…

Anyone could frame Joan or Richard by sprinkling rust on Booksy Owl. Then it could be anyone. Moriarty and Milverton must have agents inside 221 Baker Street, and Sherlock Holmes would find them.

_________

To be continued...