17 March 2027
Wednesday. A recruit told the house this week that she was expecting a baby, and asked whether my catacombs would be too much for her. A sensible question. I spent my career in places that would have been too much for anybody.
Not these. Nothing below Collins Street asks anyone to crawl, and there is no narrow place to squeeze into, so recruits who are expecting, recruits with stiff knees and recruits who dislike small spaces can all hunt in comfort. The mist and the frights are the things to think about. The floor is not.
I am told the Count’s graveyard is the same in this respect. I take no pleasure in agreeing with him, so I have written it down quickly.
She ran the hunt from the middle of the cemetery, calling out orders, and nobody dared disagree. I would have recruited her on the spot, had I a hand to shake.
— Prof. Van Helsing
