Given the escalating tension between his friend and his crush, Eugene didn't fully take the time to input all the information into the game machine, instead simply typing in "START" and pressing the tiny Enter key. The moment the geek pressed the button, however, all four college students went limp in their positions; Eugene's head plummeting down on to the table, Peter collapsing backwards onto the couch, Lindsey's head lolling limping as her phone slipped form her hands, and Judy sliding slowly to her side, her head coming to a rest on Peter's back.
The last thing any of them heard before unconsciousness overtook them was the game's synthetic voice screaming out "STARTING GAME: MYSTERY BY GAS LAMP"
---
"The year is 1890. King Edward VII sits upon the throne of the British Empire, the unchallenged ruler of the world"
A female voice spoke as moonlit clouds swept by underneath, a sea of soiled white that split apart to reveal the sea of lights and smokestacks. London.
"IT is a time of great change, but also great poverty. The age of technological advancement on the cusp of a new century. Workers young and old stoke the fires of industry, Horseless carriages grow closer to realization, and great written works are published, though only the wealthy upper class are capable of reading them. The working class toils under coal and soot, living brief, violent lives while the wealthy live in luxury and ease, and the British Empire rules over India and gazes across the ocean at its lost colon,l the United States of America"
The cityscapes blurs and shifts, showing scenes of factory workers, men, women and children of all walks of life struggling to survive amid horrid working and living conditions. A immaculate palace hall filled with well dressed and well spoken members of high society, plentiful food, the luxuries of wealth. A hall of politicians squabbling and looking disdainfully at a large map showing the United States of America. The scene shifts once more, as the British inhabit the exotic palaces of far-off India while the native population is treated and seen as backwards and little more than savages in the dark and ominous jungles.
"Great ships plow the Atlantic, and the locomotive is the preferred mode of transport across vast distances of land, each with their own unique ecosystems defined by social status and financial worth. The wealth of the first class partake of fabulous meals, exquisite cabins, cigar rooms, fine brandy, even entertianment, while the lower classes are pressed together like the cattle they are seen as, suffering in silence, unheard over the sheer power wielded by the upper class"
Visions of passenger ships, colossal vessels of steel and steam cross the dark, cold Atlantic ocean, once more scenes of the impossibly rich living pleasant lives while the unwashed masses are pressed together, some never seeing the sky once on the long voyages. The roar of a passenger train as it charges down the long narrow tracks, mean and women of status sitting in comfortable chairs and sleeping in fine beds while the poor are forced upon hard wooden benches and rarely any place to sleep. The train roars past as the location changes once more.
The story shifts suddenly to a well dressed older gentleman, clearly a lord of some kind, standing in a well furnished study as he stares out a light-soaked window, a glass of whisky in one hand, a cigar in the other. On the table is a tightly bound satchel emblazoned with a personal crest similar to the one that hangs from the nearby wall. There's a sudden crash, the man turns, and his confused face contorts with fear as he cries out, a gloved hand holding a large knife plunging downwards into the old man as he falls to the floor, blood pouring out of his wounds as he reaches weakly for the satchel. The knife rises to the old man's throat and with a swift motion, slices open the wrinkled flesh and the lord goes limp. The knife clatters to the bloody floor, splashing the rapidly expanding pool of blood everywhere while the gloved hand reaches for the satchel and grabs it, the grisly scene fading to black.
"It is here our story begins, as poverty, desperation and survival begin to clash with the have-plenty's, the fortunate and the long-lived. A wealthy industrial magnate, Lord Tiberius Lochley, friend of the royal court and owner of the vast Lochely Steel company has been found victim of murder most foul. The legal details of his estate are missing, and his company, vital to the continued success of the British Crown, teeters on the verge of collapse. His heirs, Lord James Lochley and the Lady Catherine Lochly are the prime suspects after the initial investigation has uncovered precious few clues. With no known witnesses, very few clues and a race against time before the industrial hear of the British Empire collapses, you must find the last will and testament of Lord Tiberius, find his killer, and save the Empire before it is too late!"
---
There was a pained grunt in the darkness as the world returned. The dark gave way to gray, the gray gave way to blurry colors, and the blurry colors came into focus as four figures rose groggily to their feet. As the world re-established themselves, an Inspector, a Servant, a Aristocrat and a Commoner realized they were in...
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