January 23rd 1771
South of London Bridge I awaited a carriage that contained my newest teammates from the Ministry. Upon their arrival, I was met with John "Jack" Ardlock, and Reinheardt Russ, two peculiar individuals who seemed enamored at my brass, both physical and characteristic. We had very little time to chat when our foggy meeting was cut short by the “Man from Bexley”. This occurrence, though seemingly at random, caused a disturbance in the crowd, as some were running away, while others ran towards the man who was hovering over the river. I could not see any magical or mechanical means, which peeked my interest in the matter.
Reinheardt tried his best to grapple the creature, at which I let my machines do their work, and an aggravating force shot at the creature began the assault. Insect like wings formed out of the creature after I threw a spiked wired around the beast, its gray, mottled skin an abomination of man and creature. Once we thought we contained the beast, it’s head detached from the body and flew away. A bolt landed a hit, but the head tumbled into the fog below, and no sign of it was found.
Returning to the Ministry with body and tale, we were ordered to the Southward Theater, located on Maiden lane where the globe once was. This was where we were greeted by twin jesters, and shown a remarkable show of technical and social skill. The Butcher of Blackshire was the performance and it was quite odd to see the depiction of murder, and gore. We began to recognize that foul was afoot, the show was using real people against their will, murdering them for the performance, it was at this point that the show turned to us, we became a part of the show. “And from the crowd came a thunderous cry, stop villain, tonight you die” was said by the guest stars leading actor, me, and we fought hard, revealing a puppet master, the one creature seeming to be in control..
Then the smoke cleared as did our heads, and we were standing in the abandoned and demolished Globe Theater, not a improvement made, or a show to be had for sometime. This was quite odd to me; the magic power capable of such an illusion was frightening to comprehend. From our driver “Ben” to the locals of the area, the whole guise of the renovated theater and “Butcher” performance was reaching it’s illusionary grasp over the land, the place was never fixed, and “Ben” was not our driver, what sort of trickery is here and why can’t I identify it beforehand? Manchester’s fears were inline with ours, for our tickets were for some of the higher-ups in the ministry, and this trap was for them. Our nightmares were not over, for a most horrific sight disturbed the safety of sleep. A mechanical device, containing jester’s similar to those that greeted us were in our rooms, fighting gears with gears, I unleashed my back-pack companion, and the horror was quickly dispatched. Jack and Reinny were met with similar fate, and this odd device was the carrier of a message, a message that said we had a private performance and we would be picked up at the theater. This does not bode well, for even the most lusty of woman is made rotten at the sight of blood.<!