So this a short story (memoire) about the Auctioneer from S1 TBW for those of you who remember it. I have no idea If anyone want's to read this sort of stuff but I write quite a lot and I put this together quickly and thought I would share it. Its got a few simple Easter eggs but please let me know if there would be an interest for any more, I don't mind the response as I write for the enjoyment myself but it would be nice to hear your thoughts. # 9th Oct 2018 – W Barry Ave, Chicago. An Auctioneers Memoir – It was over 3 years ago but it still feels like only yesterday that they took me. My story begins as a young man of sixteen; I was born in London and began living life as a mod, I even managed to get hold of a custom Japanese Lambretta that was the envy of the local crew, you know the type I mean, with the spare wheel under the handlebars. I had an amazing Jagger hairstyle in those days and used to buy purple hearts down by the Themes. Those were the days... but I digress. My father was a secretive man, born in Leamington in Warwickshire, we moved to London in the 60’s during the height of the Beatles, around the time of the shocking news of JFK. He worked as a shoemaker for Anello & Davide in the prosperous Covent Garden with a man called Jack, the son of the late A.H Blackwood. Father would be away a lot but during my younger years when at home he would read me stories such as Arthur Jermyn and would read excerpts from the De la Haute Magie . It was all interesting stuff but it wasn’t until later in my life, much later, that I realised the significance of what he read. It was on my 16th birthday, in 1969 that he first took me on my first and only trip to 36 Blythe Road. At this point I was aware my father was part of a ‘club’, though it’s details and name I did not know, when I arrived at Blythe Road I was introduced to Jack for the first time, he was a charismatic gentlemen and we soon got talking about folklore, stories of magic and other outlandish tales. I was introduced to several other members of the club as they came and went, we stayed for a few hours and returned home. It was on that day my father and Jack died. My mother moved to London in the summer of 1948 as part of the United States Olympics team, not one of the athletes I must add but as part of the administration team and had the opportunity to remain working in London in a small admin office. After father died London had become unforgiving, having no career after leaving work to give birth to yours truly and no family in England, we shipped off to Chicago and moved in with my mother’s aunt. Many years later, after high school, college and a few dead end jobs I got lucky. My mother had died a few years earlier and the only family I kept in contact with had moved to Philadelphia. I was working for an art dealer down by Oak Street Beach and I received an envelope that changed my life. It was 2010 when I returned to England and went to the address in the letter. Kingston Upon Hull a port town in the county of Yorkshire. When I arrived at the address I was met by an elderly gentleman called Piérre Vezinét who said he knew my father. After a long discussion he explained that my father was a Philosophus in the First Order of Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and the order supposedly collapsed in the late 60’s around the time my father died. However many splinter groups still existed including a prominent temple in Chicago. He warned me that this group was dangerous and opposed the First Order; I mostly took this as the ramblings of an old man and eventually returned to Chicago where I started working for an auctioneer just around the corner from where I lived on W Barry Ave. It was 2015 and I had nearly completely forgotten about my trip to England and my talk with Piérre when I received an unmarked package containing instructions and a document. Folio 13 of Cipher Manuscript. My life changed, Then they came, And the rest is ‘waters of creation’.