Hello everyone, This is Robbie, writer and creator of ghost Wax. I
am very excited to introduce you all to our first expansion season, Ghost Wax
nineteen ten. This eight episode arc will introduce some important moments and players in
our upcoming second season and let us enjoy some good old fashioned magic, mayhem,
and turn of the century horror. We are very excited for this prequel
of sorts. These episodes will be available on our Patreon for supporters at any
level and is part of our effort to raise funds for a second season,
for which writing is well under way. Casting Notices Soon. Nineteen ten follows
Olivia Beer's weather as she catalogs and details the case that cost her everything,
but that she never wants to forget old timey otherworldly scares at the turn of
the century. Thank you everyone for your continued support, and please enjoy the
first episode of ghost Wax nineteen ten, Travel by Train. Welcome to ghost
Wax, a Foreign Tall Tales production. The following story may contain graphic content.
Listener discretion is advised. Episode one, Travel by Train. I am
oh, who am? I am? I still? Olivia? I must
be? I am still? Sometimes I wish I was sometimes I wish I
was who I was before focus focus m hmm. This is Olivia Veer's weather
Order Master. The banishing of the Cipher was two two weeks ago. I
think that is. I'm that is the trouble with battling something like the Cipher,
seeing its true shape. I thought the battle was over before, but
it was an illusion within an illusion. My victories were over and over again,
simply what I wanted to see, a convenient existence. My battered mind
was all too willing to accept trap after trap. But now now I am
fairly confident, yes, fairly confident, that I have returned to reality,
well, returned to the vessel, our vessel, our home, our home.
My battle at the breach against the Cipher, mister Media, the Beast
mm hmm, coincided with another battle, the losses of which we are only
just beginning to understand, to reckon with. Most of the creatures who escaped
to containment have been sealed back away or destroyed. Our losses were significant and
have left the situation in the ardent different. I am. I am struggling.
But this, this recording, this wax I am making that I have
been bidden to make, is not for me to discuss our new situation,
but to preserve things that are precious to me. Battling the cipher has left
my mind eroded in places. I have gaps, losses. I believe the
entropy has slowed, but I cannot be sure. Bites missing from what I
am and what I know. Vonsid has success using the wax to preserve and
log stories and experiences. Many of the other Hamsa have already begun using it.
Remembrances were once a thing passed from mind to mind, from Hamsa to
Hamsah, or Hamsa to dreamer. But here they sit locked in these beautiful,
glistening white resin cylinders. They look so fragile, as fragile asm h
ah ah. They look so fragile, memory, so easily lost. I
don't want to share. I wanted to keep these things from myself, what
what could have been, what I lost? But I cannot trust my mind
any longer I have. I've sprung a leak, and I cannot risk it.
I cannot risk losing these moments between us, the story of how I
lost what I never really had. But I am assured the cylinders are stronger
than they appear, and despite my misgivings, Von said is a venoum Once
again I had I had forgotten, forgotten what the originals are like, and
their orders are not easily denied. So I will make remembrance what I do
not want to forget, what I mustn't forget. I will collect the context
the stories around it. Perhaps I will not feel as emotionally exposed if I
gather the work around it all. And besides, I I believe I can
improve upon thee rudimentary form Voncid employed in the structure of remembrances. We have
a collective memory web. We should make use of it, taking advantage of
this interconnectedness. The others have generously allowed me their own memories to support my
own. So I shall endeavor to create a more complete picture of the events
I wish to catalog. Very well, then where do I begin? Well,
it was not who I am now I was another. Then I wish
I wish it had been different than it was. We are none of us
ever who we truly wish to be. If only the cry of the living
enough of the Maudlin, I suppose it begins on the train. Just look
at him on the casciously m what's that. I don't think I've seen you
smile this much in one hundred years, not consecutively, am I Well,
I admit I am very fond of trains. We're gathering that the pace,
the momentum, the way it connects everyone's journey. Have you looked at a
map of the rails? Do we know if they know how much of railways
are being built along lay lines? Seems to be done unconsciously for the most
part, but I do think someone was looking into it. Oh, yes,
I think Odi mentioned one of his apprentices discovered some esoteric order or other
meddling in all manner of city planning, channeling energy this way and that.
How interesting to what end? Oh? Actually, it's quite embarrassing. Is
it a lodge of hedge magicians altering aspects of civic construction to increase the wealth,
prosperity and virility of large members. You're kidding? Does this seem like
something I would kid about? The sacred order? Masculine? Adonica? Stop
it completely unacceptable, sid too much, I'm serious. They are channeling life
streams to make themselves potent, desirable, and robust. Oh, this is
sillier than the corn flake man it's all too common. The more things change,
the more they stay the same. And all that they are merely employing
scientific advances in combination with ancient mysteries and magics to address the age old concerns
of men. Stop, I'm contacting Odi about this. Oh, don't bother.
He's having a life at us. It's not as silly as all that
human magicians have done, far more, for far less. Remember the group
who reversed time so they could youth in their genitalia and sire offspring well into
their eighties. Oh yes, that family obsessed with the sacred bloodline. Half
of them are mad and the other half are hideously inbred and mutated. What
are their names? Good afternoon tickets? Please? I that that's all right?
Never mind, I I mean, I'll come back in a moment.
Beg, pardon he saw I assume U apologies, very sloppy of me.
I am still struggling to manifest in my current host without opening my eyes.
Don't apologize. One can never know how well the bonding will take. Harold
Bears was a tremendous man and an excellent second. They served you well,
but not all bonds can endure for long. Some run their course more quickly
than others. Certainly none of us can remain together as long as boo and
osam. That's the nature of Thingsmen. Still, I'll go and deal with
it. Let me, it will be easier if you chase after him.
You'll panic. Thank you. Oh did you reach Odye so that he could
tell you? I am quite serious about the order masculine adonaka. I was
interrupted before I could make contact. Well, he can tell you in person
when we arrive. I believe he's already in Philadelphia preparing the house four of
us. Is that really necessary? Well, I am technically a tagalong these
reclaimers this ida. I am interested to see how they operate. We may
well be happy we've come in such force. I've never heard Commander Faraday sounds
so apprehensive. In fact, I've never heard him produce any emotion at all
before, unless professionally cold is an emotion. But Emeia, he sounded scared.
Apparently it's all they can do to contain the stain from spilling out into
the city. And here I was hoping for a quiet century. Oh,
I'm sure this is just a little hiccup, and the rest of the era
will just breeze by. I'll return after I've dealt with our little issue tickets.
Yes, thank you, and yes, thank you very much, sirs.
Excuse me, young man? Oh, yes, apologies, you you
startled me. Yes, sir, are you feeling all right? You look
quite pale. Is there a problem, sir? I don't believe so.
Our room is very fine and the ride has been lovely. I quite enjoy
trains. And your companions they are all right as well. They seem to
be. Yes, you you know them both. Well. No, pardon,
I'm sorry, sir. I neglected to knock. Very rude of me.
A simple oversight. Oh I don't think that is true. Beg pardon.
I don't know what you mean, but you do. You see,
I'm something of a professional interrogator. I've a knack for spotting a lie.
Not that you are making it difficult here my handkerchief or the perspiration. You're
a detective, an investigator. I investigate, and your companions are as well,
among other things. I see. Well, that's just it, isn't
it. You were barging in without knocking to see what were you trying to
see? What were you expecting to see? Well, it's just just a
young woman traveling with two men who peers so very different than her. Clearly
not her family. That's clever trying to pass it off as a simple matter
of racial prejudice or decorum. But no, I don't think that's it.
I need to continue my duties. Tell me, I it was your friend,
the young gentleman. At first I thought, but it was his clothing,
the jeweled color of a suit, a burgundy suit, an emerald green
tie, that sapphire pen. I couldn't help but stare, and it seemed
it should all be so garish, and yet it isn't. It's elegant,
sophisticated, so interested in fashion? Are we, no, sir? But
his dress caught my eye, and once it was caught, I couldn't unketch
it. Havan part of him was born a prince, born onto a bed
of gemstones. I guess you never can really give up that kind of opulence,
a prince part of him go on. Once I start staring, I
couldn't help but feel odd. The longer I looked at him, something about
him seemed off. Not the clothing, not his manner or the accent,
but just something seemed off. I understand you are more attuned to it than
others. Poor Von, it is a shame to have a bond only last
a few hundred years. Sir, never mind, he is sick, that's
all I Well, your companion's deformity. Ah, you did see that the
eye in his palm? Yes, sir, it is not a deformity.
Here, have a seat. Ooh when did we come in here? This
gesture I am making here? You see this? It is hypnotic. I
began making it a short while ago, and I used it to bring you
to this train car, to this private room. Not a very busy day
on the train today. What is what is happening? Well, I need
a bit of privacy to conduct a small, mostly painless surgery. You will
feel a small sting here? Wow? What in blazes was that something bit
me? It was a sting, As I said, it was mine.
See this tendril here? Oh my god. I have quite a good many
of them, as does my friend Havan the woman Ema. We live within
the flesh of our bound companions, and sometimes exerting our abilities to shape the
vessel or to communicate become difficult, especially as we begin to lose sync with
our partners. Okay, Oh, dear God, please protect me. But
that's exactly it, Gregory. We protect you, We all do. We
have been protecting you a long time. See this symbol. This symbol has
existed for millennia. It came to be known as a ward against evil,
A hand with three fingers raised and I in the palm. You see that?
Ughhhh, I suppose you'd have to. You see, Havan is not
deformed. He is simply losing sink with his companion and will need to transfer
hosts soon. It is perfectly natural for us. Sometimes the host even survives
and lives on God's willing, though it is rare. Thank you for being
such a good listener. By the way, it does feel good to tell
the truth, even if it will only remain temporarily. I wish there was
no need for all the subterfuge, but well, we tried to be honest
with your kind before, with barry unfortunate results. I suppose we should get
on with it. The part of me that is my companion is informing me
that you seem frightened, and I think they are right. We will not
harm you. The ancient Egyptians some of the mystery cults. They knew of
us. They added an extra jar to their embalming procedure in case the body
was found with one of ours within it. An honor. Really, there
were quite a lot more of us than well. The Egyptians were excellent surgeons,
and one of them showed me a superb technique for reaching the brain through
the nostril, which I shall employ now with this hooked tendril of mine,
a very small physical surgery as well as a psychic one. You will not
remember this conversation, but I am still glad we shared these moments together.
Please do ease on the racial biases and peeping tam tendencies as well. You
might get yourself into trouble someday. How embarrassing I am A bosh I am.
I really wanted to impress him, to impress you both. Oh,
the opportunity has hardly passed. It's just we haven't worked together as I am
now, I'm already nearly in need of another transition. And how this slip
Nival Neussa. He breaks about you constantly to the other venerum. He's proud.
I'm not the one who bloomed you into existence, but I'm proud of
you as well. We never tire of taking credit for your achievements. A
hundreds of years old, and you two make me feel like a child.
Just the matter of perspective, this was all such a rush. I neglected
to check our itinerary. We arrive in Philadelphia this afternoon, Have some lunch,
Take a trolley? Are we heading right to the scene? No trolley.
I'm afraid a general strike has been announced and they won't be running.
Oh, bon Sid will be so disappointed. Let's hope he doesn't pout all
afternoon. I guess everyone can seem infantile at times, no matter how venerable,
very true, everything swell just fine. Turns out he wanted to get
a closer look at your immaculate fashion, and in his excitement, neglected to
knock and got an eye full cheeky all taken care of. He was a
fine patient. Shall we discuss the reason for our hasty departure before our arrival
and the itinerary? Yes, Capital idea. Three weeks ago, there was
the issue with the observers in the northeast. Wait what happened with the observers?
Emia was in the hive at the time. Oh, how is the
five very well I've brought a fair amount of it with me. Three weeks
ago, every observer in the entirety of the American Northeast and the Canadian Eastern
Seaboard went into a fit, shaking, convulsing, foaming at the mouth.
My heavens, those who were in the vicinity of multiple observers took note that
each was shuddering and contorting in a sort of pained unison. How dreadful.
This sort of collective syncopation had never been recorded before in the history of the
observer program. There have been mass reactions, but this particular phenomenon was different.
After the tremor subsided, the observers all turned and stared in an easterly
direction for a prolonged period. Memory reconstruction from witnesses led us very quickly to
a conclusion. They were all staring off to the British Isles Avalon, we
thought at first, But still no sign of it. Damn missed. It
appears the source of this phenomenon may have emanated from somewhere on Greater Avalonia.
However, the pillar deep well nor endless steps reported any odd behavior from observers
within their purview. The pillar is especially nearby far closer than the observers in
North America that reacted. So whatever the reaction was, it may have originated
in Avalonia but cast its impulse west. Well that answers my next ques question.
Why are we headed to Philadelphia and not Avlonia? She said, as
if we haven't been banished from Britain since Victoria and could just go waltzing back
to the folded library whenever we want tash. We stayed away as a sign
of good faith, not because we can't go back. It's time be that
as it may. It does seem likely whatever originated over there has come over
here. If you'll look at Blade Faraday's reports, you'll see his description of
a crime impossible to have been perpetrated by human hands. Abraham f Endicott,
a very wealthy magnate in the business of timber mining and rail construction, certainly
a member of the large Adonica, was found pressed in his Philadelphia manor home
yesterday evening. Someone had placed massive timbers, essentially whole tree trunks, some
weighing in the tons on his body, one at a time, slowly flattening
him from the feet up. Well, that's certainly original and impossible of course,
considering this happened in his upstairs study, and the logs were still found
to be damp with river water. Upon their discovery. His staff, his
rather large pack of hunting dogs, and the pinkertons he had on the site
of his manner to protect him from disgruntled workers were all found deceased in equally
brutal but far more succinct fashions. Oh my, and here an effigy burned
on his lawn, the king about to die. You don't think whithersid Coven
had anything to do with this, do you? I very much hope not,
But wsh that effigy certainly looked like one of theirs. The final detail
is why we had to leave so urgently. There is a photograph in the
packet. It was drawn in an unknown substance near the body, a symbol
that only a member of our order can possibly know. It's not just any
member, someone significantly high up within it drawn without error in a steady hand.
Oh oh no, the mark of a true Hamsah. Thank you for
listening to ghost Wax, a production of Foreign Tall Tales. Find us at
Foreign tal Tales dot squarespace dot com. Ghostwax is an independent podcast. So
if you liked the show, please rate and review and consider joining us on
Patreon at patreon dot com. Slash Foreign Tall Tales also give a listen to
our fantasy roleplay show Could Have Been Heroes for something completely different. Ghostwax is
written and directed by Robert Kannutsen, production and editing by Aaron Schoenrock. Our
theme song is by Bo Hoover. This episode features h. J. Raider
as Olivia, Robert Kannutsen as von sid Ala, Ilushka as Emiya, mark
Ar Kusha as Havan, and John Gregory as Gregory.