It was a rather beautiful day in Albany. The trees swayed in a memorizing pattern above the cobblestone streets as Ambrose Tull walked in stride to the train station. This whole letter thing had come out of nowhere and his decision to leave his home and venture Arkham was sudden. The man took a short cut through a rather rundown alley to cut down on time. As he entered the ally Ambrose started thinking more about the place he was heading towards on this odd adventure. Tull knew Arkham in passing note, having played a game in college against the Miskatonic University team which was located in the city. His poor Fighting Gars lost in the final play with a lucky touchdown and in front of the home crowd of Greene. Tull remembered the utter shock in those crowded bleachers when the boys from Massachusetts scored with no time left on the clock and how oddly quiet the usually raucous home front was. It was a moment Tull had almost forgotten about but now the memory had dug itself from the brink of oblivion to the forefront of the old boxer's mind. He thought more about different events in his college days as he neared the train station, some of those memories were great times with the old boys while others were the what-ifs with girls but his trip down those simple days was cut short by a familiar voice.
"HEY!"
Ambrose instantly turned to face the voice coming from behind and was shocked by the source.
"Tull, you remember me?" The voice called again from the lips of the bearded husky man. A broken smile of missing teeth followed the sentence when Ambrose surprised face fell over the scene.
"H.L. Duds right? I fought you in that match in Richmond back in 22. How does it go, friend? I don't have much time for I must catch the train but te-" At this moment Ambrose was cut off by a raised tone by H.L.
"Yeah, Richmond in 22 you made a mockery of me up on that ring. Knocking my teeth clean out of the socket with that cheap punch." He said with an anger overtone and taking off his dusty overcoat before continuing, " You are the reason why I am out of the sport and gotta go town to town looking for work. But it seems I can get my little revenge. I saw you walking down here and I knew it was my chance to congratulate you on your long career" H.L. said in a mocking tone laying his coat on the ground.
Ambrose knew what this man wanted and that was cold-blooded revenge. It shocked Tull that this man could hold such a rage in his heart for so long but he couldn't think of the psychological reasons for this hellbent desire, instead, he had to study his old opponent for the next move. Ambrose was tall at 6'5 and had atleast an inch on his antagonist but H.L. was younger by a minimum of five years and seemed to still practice the sport based on his athletic build.
" H.L. come on now this is madness. We are both men let us forget this incident and move on with life. What is the point of doing this? I mus-" He was cut off again not by the voice of H.L. but his movements. The angry man's arms rose in silent uniformity into the classic position for boxing his legs shifted to pounce at Tull in second and his broken smile disappeared to a scornful lip. All this was caught by the hazel eyes of Ambrose who still hoped for a peaceful resolution. However, he was once a furious young man and it took many years of defeat to knock the anger out of someone and it seemed H.L. was not there yet.
"I know you want to prove something but this won't do anything for either of us. I really truly do not want to fight." Ambrose said in a desperate tone, after all, it was true those last defeats before retirement devasted his desire for the blood sport and now he thought of himself to be a peaceful man. These attempts to defuse the situation did not work and H.L. was ready for attack.
Before another word could be spoken H.L lunged at Ambrose with jab straight into the face of the defenseless man. The jab hit Ambrose's face and without hesitation, he jumped back to avoid the connection. The punch caused his homburg hat to fly off and awaken the old skills within. In an instinctive matter, Ambrose got into his fighting position and dodged the flurry of punches that came from H.L. Over and over the bobbing and weaving of the head missed the nose breaking punches of the young man. There was no thought in this process it came naturally for Ambrose and he waited for a strike. Finally, after the 6th missed punch he saw a chance and without a moment's thought came with his massive right and slammed it into the stumbly bearded cheek of H.L. A grunt was let out as the young mans face changed from anger to confusion. He had him. After a moment of dazed moving, he fell into a pile of trash and the fight was over. Instantly, Ambrose snapped out his boxer mode with the man defeated Ambrose though again. The first thing to come to mind was checking the time on his gold plated pocket watch given to him by his father. He was shocked at the time and knew if he didn't book it now he would never make it to the train station in time. With this knowledge, Tull quickly picked his hat off the dirty streets followed by glancing at the still dazed H.L. giving him a nod and leaving the ally.
Arkham
It took a few hours and another few connections to reach the sleepy city of Arkham. Rain plagued his trip coming into the city and the place gave off a strange sense of hostility. However, Ambrose was unphased and was actually in a state of excitement with answers just on the horizon he hoped. As he stepped off the train it was obvious he stuck out with his rather large body size and bald head compared to the rather small stature of the inhabitants of Arkham. This fact made his walk down the street with his nearly all-black suit and umbrella one met with glances by strangers all around. However, the closer he got to the house stated in the letter the fewer people he saw that was until he could make out two figures at the destination and he knew they saw him.
