Ripped from the Headlines: Wine Heist

This week's post is inspired by a Guardian article about a daring wine heist in which two thieves with plausible faces suckered a Spanish establishment and walked out with priceless wines.

The TL/DR: the seemingly respectable pair booked a suite at Atrio in the city of Cáceres, which has a 2-star Michelin restaurant attached. While the front desk (and thus the security camera system) was unattended one of them crept into the cellar and made off with 45 bottles, including 'a valuable 1806 Château d’Yquem and at least six other 19th-century bottles' (from the article). The hotel owner alleges that the pair must have been stealing for a collector, since the bottles are easily identifiable and could not be sold on the open market.

My take: whoever it is must have an excellent understanding of the hotel's infrastructure, and further, that this probably only happened because of Covid. It's difficult to imagine an establishment as prestigious as this so under-occupied as to allow easy access to the wine cellar unless there weren't as many staff and customers as usual. Even one more pair of eyes could have prevented this. 

You have to wonder what the thieves' Plan B was if the staff member at reception returned before the person swiping the wine got out of the cellar.

We've talked about wine before. We've even talked about Château d’Yquem, three bottles of which were among the hoard found under the floorboards of a Czech castle. 

From James Cleur

Let's gamify this.

The Double Tap ruleset introduces Cameos: "The Director can set scenes in these instant locations, run the thriller action montage right through them, or just sprinkle them into her subconscious. 

Each Establishing Shot includes a quick “stock footage” description, followed by the extras (and any Cameos) you might run into there, three clues, and any sensible rules effects."

So:

Michelin Starred Restaurant. 

A holy temple of cuisine. Many spend all their lives trying to book a table here. Others, the apostles of gastronomy, consider this place home. Those who have the privilege of dining here do so in hushed reverence. It takes passion and talent to obtain even one Michelin star, never mind more than one. There are only 13 restaurants with 3 Michelin stars in the whole United States.

No muzak here; even the architecture is a cut above, a blend of modernist fantasy with elements of ancient splendor. Though every possible pain is taken to ensure the guest's comfort, those with some Tradecraft experience notice the security cameras thoughtfully placed here, there and everywhere. The architecture may be a cut above, but the designer planned for every eventuality.  

Attentive staff bustle back and forth between tables, each highly trained and experienced; you have to be the best of the best to work here. Those fortunate enough to find a place may stay for years, perhaps decades, becoming a fixture of the establishment. The chefs are world-renowned and many who come here make the pilgrimage specifically to sample that particular chef's version of a favorite dish, which shall be different from any other version of that dish they may have sampled before. 

It's not unusual to see the great and famous, perhaps playing at Gordon Gekko, preferring to be seen to be here rather than seen to eat here. Nevertheless those who find their way through the front door are often simply the wealthy, for whom fine dining is less important than expensive and famous dining. Those at that table over there - the one being attended to personally by the chef - are those who came here to eat. When all is said and done, a Michelin restaurant prefers those who prefer food. Money's important, fame important, but fine living trumps both. 

extras and cameos: A VIP and their entourage, including bodyguards sat at the next table trying not to look like a bunch of thugs. A well-placed NPC or Cameo, like an Edom Legacy or Duke. A Russian plutocrat conspicuously out of place, trying to look as if they belong. A couple enjoying their Diamond Anniversary. A day trader with money to burn wondering what all the fuss is about, making loud and inappropriate telephone calls to the displeasure of all. A highly placed government official, Conspiracy asset or similar ranking apparatchik. An agent's Familiar Foe (p 52, Double Tap). 

clues: Though the staff are as attentive as you'd expect, for some reason they're avoiding that table over there. The fellow in the expensive suit seems particularly pale and sickly. Those with Occult notice peculiar sigils worked into the architecture, as if set up as a means of warding off evil - or inviting it. That painting - isn't it a [INSERT USEUFL NAME HERE eg Francis Aytown from the Dracula Dossier]? How peculiar to see one of those in this establishment; it seems out of place.

rules effects: due to the proliferation of security cameras any Infiltration attempt is at +1 Difficulty. Any overt violence increases Heat by +1, in addition to any other Heat increases that might normally accrue. Agents with Excessive Funds or High Society pools of 2 or more are fawned on by the staff, and possibly also the chef. A successful Theft here (the artwork, the contents of the wine cellar, similar) gives the agents Excessive Funds for one scene only.

in a fight: Horrors! That such a thing could happen here! Alcohol and fire - try not to clock someone with the 1806 Château d’Yquem. The VIP's bodyguards are probably armed. That chef's knife could be very useful but so could the steak knives, in a pinch. Why not use a table cloth like a cloak, for cloak-and-dagger fighting?

in a chase: Terrain varies between cramped and open and the architecture isn't helpful; damn difficult vaulting a modernist masterpiece. A restaurant whose main structure dates back to the Nth century might have old secret doors and passages known only to a favored few. Even more modern restaurants might have a 21-Club style secret door hiding the wine cellar. Running through the kitchen isn't going to win you any friends but might get you out the back way through the deliveries door. A quick Disguise as staff might work, if the staff are already friendly (on account of that High Society pool of 2 points or more) - the staff knows how difficult it is to keep the paparazzi at bay. On the other hand the staff all know each other very well so that same Disguise may be your doom, if the staff aren't friendly.

That's it for this week. Enjoy! 

Booze, Glorious Booze (Night's Black Agents)

Sometimes this blog writes itself.

Have a look at this news item, about a 150 year old wine cache found in the secret recesses of a Czech castle. The liquid gold, when tested under the most stringent conditions, proved to be as magnificent and desirable as any aficionado could wish for. Recovered by the state in 1985, only now have the Czech authorities bothered to do anything with it. Just as well, really, since in the 80s they could never have tested it so carefully as they can today, with devices that can pour off a snifter without damaging the integrity of the cork, and therefore the contents. The last three bottles of the 1899 Chateau d'Yquem are part of this 133 bottle collection. Those bottles alone are probably worth over $10,000 each; the auction price for the entire collection is incalculable, particularly since they've been tested and proved drinkable. This is the stuff that dreams are made of.

So there's all that. Now what can we do with this from a Night's Black Agents point of view?

There are vampire connections of long standing with Czechoslovakia. F.W. Murnau used Orava Castle, now a museum, as a setting for Nosferatu. Archaeologists sometimes find vampire burials and, on one occasion, a vampires' graveyard just outside Prague. And of course once upon a time Czechoslovakia was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which gave the world some of the most evocative vampire legends to date; the desecration of corpses was so widespread that the Empress Maria Theresa was forced to pass a law forbidding exhumation and destruction of the buried dead.

Now here we have a wine trove found under a castle, complete with jeweled catafalque containing the alleged remains of a saint. So let's turn this into a Tale of Terror, Vampire Style, and see what can be done with it.

Option One:  Time Bomb. The collection was laid down by Satanic disciples who made a deal with a vampire, possibly Orlok the Nosferatu, possibly Dracula himself if there's to be a Satanic Cult of Dracula connection. The best bottles in the collection are tainted with vampire blood, and the intent was to send these bottles to important and influential persons, turning them into Renfields. For whatever reason this plan did not mature; if this is Dracula, perhaps his disastrous adventures in England preempted the wine plot. So the cache stayed hidden, lost and forgotten, until its rediscovery in 1985. Now the plan's been reactivated, which is why the auction has been scheduled. Soon the wine will scatter across Europe, vanishing into the collections of the rich and famous. That's why it was so important to establish that the wine is drinkable; without that extra touch, the bombs might have stayed in bottle forever. Character Link: A person of interest, possibly a known Renfield or Node, is paying particular attention to this auction. The person of interest is very keen to ensure the auction goes ahead without a hitch, going so far as to rig the bidding to ensure that certain people win certain auctions. Why should that be?

Option Two: Mine, All Mine. The wine cache was laid down by a wealthy and well-connected family, which had a vampire in its bloodline. This vampire used the family as a beard, relying on its wealth and influence to keep the vampire hidden. Possibly this creature is a former Bride of Dracula, or something of similar importance. When things got too difficult the bloodsucker hid in the saint's box, or perhaps the family got tired of supporting a freeloader and made sure it couldn't do any further harm. However when the cache was discovered in 1985 the vampire got out, and soon began cementing its local influence in Czechoslovakia, establishing a small network of human agents. It knows about the Conspiracy but is not a part of it, yet; it sits enviously on the sidelines, waiting for an opportunity. The time is now, and the wine sale is part of a scheme to raise some serious cash for its small network, with the ultimate goal of using that cash to fund a terrorist attack whose purpose is to prove to the Conspiracy how useful the vampire is, and how great it would be if the Conspiracy took it in. If the Vampire is a Bride, there's not a little sexual jealousy mixed in; "it's been how many centuries, and you still haven't called?" Character Link: Elements within the Czech BIS (domestic security) bring in the characters, anonymously, to check out some of the bidders. The BIS use the excuse that the bidders are Russian mafia, but the main worry is that criminal elements may be using the auction for their own purposes. The BIS can't be seen to intervene directly, but freelancers are another thing entirely.

Option Three: The Sting. Edom, or a similar organization, is using this auction as a lure to catch a particular target. The target's fondness for excellent vintages is well-known, and the intent is to kidnap the target while she's in the Czech Republic, extract her to an interrogation site - Black Light, for instance - and squeeze her dry. Meanwhile her temporary replacement is seen to be at the auction, placing bids and behaving as if nothing is wrong. Later, of course, the replacement's plane will 'mysteriously crash' on its way home. Or, if this is a Mirror game in which people's loyalties flip, perhaps the target will be turned and brought back into play after the auction. Character Link: Perhaps the freelancers were brought in to manage the kidnap, and keep up pretenses for a vital few days while the interrogators do their work. Or perhaps the freelancers were the target's security detail, and only discover after the fact that their employer was switched out for a double. This could be an excellent reason why the characters got burned in the first place.

That's it for now! Enjoy.

Vin Mariani: Cocaine, Wine, and Cthulhu

Once upon a time there was a fascinating substance called cocaine, first imported to the West after the conquest of the New World by Spain. This habit-forming substance enjoyed a kind of reluctant endorsement from the powers that be; the Catholic Church, for example, was very hesitant about cocaine, blaming it for all kinds of sins and claiming it was an invention of the devil, until it realized that workers dosed with the stuff were twice as productive. The Third Council of Lima allowed the Church to take a 10% cut on all cocaine sales, after which the Church dropped any and all reservations it had.

In 1863 a Corsican apothecary, Angelo Mariani, hit on the idea of mixing cocoa leaves with wine. The cocoa leaves bled off their alkaloids into the wine, creating a cheery substance, Vin Mariani or Vin Tonique Mariani, which soon became a hit. It helped that Mariani was an absolutely shameless media hound, extracting celebrity endorsements from the likes of Thomas Edison, Queen Victoria, two Popes, Jules Verne, actress Sarah Bernhardt, the Empress of Russia, and so on. The whole list of endorsements, it is said, took up fifteen leather-bound books; The King of Tonics, The Tonic of Kings, or so went the advertising. It became one of the most popular tonic wines of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and continued to be manufactured until Mariani's death just three months prior to the start of the Great War. He took the formula to his grave, in Cemetary of the Père Lachaise in Paris. It's still possible to find examples of the original bottle for sale as antique glass, and there's at least one example of the original stuff still kicking about.

Some of the known physiological side effects of cocaine use include a decreased need for food and sleep - something night owl Edison appreciated - a tendency to become talkative and energetic, intense euphoria, increased libido, irregular heartbeat, bulging eyes, gaunt appearance, increased blood pressure and valve damage, obsessive behavior, paranoia, hallucination, feelings of impending doom and death. and so on.

Taking all of that into consideration, what does this mean for Trail games?

Bookhounds begins, more or less, in the 1930s, while Dreamhounds kicks off in the 1920s. During both periods Vin Mariani would be available for sale, though probably in reduced amounts since it is no longer manufactured. Or is it? After all, Vin Mariani isn't protected by trademark and even if it was, the person most concerned with protecting it is long dead. The Keeper could easily rationalize that someone stepped in to make an inferior version of the original, particularly in Paris, since Mariani's manufacturing plant was in France. It's always possible some associate or employee of Mariani stepped in to fill a void in the marketplace. Of course the original, probably still available at least while stocks lasted, would be the superior vintage by far.

It would be beloved of older occultists and other NPCs. Anyone over 40 in 1930, for example, might easily have enjoyed the original while Mariani was still alive and making it. A few bottles of Vin Tonique could be used as window dressing in any scene involving NPCs of this type, as could the cocaine shakes, gaunt appearance and so on that is characteristic of long-term use.

In a game like Dreamhounds, Vin Mariani could acquire an odd reputation. After all the whole point of the setting is to get into the Dreamlands somehow, and here's a substance that reduces the need for sleep. Some Dreamhounds might find that a blessing or a curse, depending on what they've been up to; a sudden spike in their wine consumption could be a significant Sense Trouble indicator. Or perhaps Vin Mariani, or its equivalent, has made its way through to the Dream somehow, perhaps carried there by a fan. Can it be manufactured there? What would happen if it was?

Going over to Night's Black Agents for a moment, a few months back when I was discussing the nature of Conspiracy I posited an organization that wanted to become the premier source of Gray, a narcotic substance, in the Western World. Consider what Vin Mariani is: a wine infused with an intoxicating substance. Now consider what the Conspyracy wants: an easily transported, easily disguised means of distributing ghost-impregnated stimulants. Sold! Vin Mariani, or a wine very like it, could easily have been one of this Conspyracy's first attempts at distributing Gray. It might still have vineyards out there being dusted, fertilized or what have you, with the essence of dead souls, sold to its more discerning clientele.

Or, leaving Gray aside altogether for a moment, a Vampire with nineteenth century connections could still have a hankering for its favorite tipple, particularly with a drop or two of blood added. After all, just because Dracula, rather snootily, says he doesn't drink wine, doesn't mean that the rest of the blood drinking community has turned teetotal. But as the years advance and Vin Mariani becomes much more unobtainable, that Vampire might go to extraordinary lengths to ensure a supply. Following the bottle trail could be an extremely useful way of tracking down a dangerous opponent.

That's it for now! Enjoy.