Joseph Westmore



For all your education,

you’re the first to admit you’re a bit
naive about the world. You don’t blame
yourself, of course. Yale is not the school
of hard knocks, and your parents can
be more than protective. You’ve always
figured there’s something thrilling lying
in wait around the corner for you, and
you will eagerly seek it out. That said,
you’re not shy about your ignorance.
You’re perfectly willing to say what
you think, or whatever comes to mind,
and if you’re wrong, someone is sure to
correct you.


The Westmores were always family

friends with the
Winstons. Your older brother went to
school with Janet, their only daughter.
You often visited for supper and often
admired Walter’s library when you
grew bored of billiards. At the point
you started to reimagine your lifestyle,
you realized that Walter Winston was
the man you wished to emulate. He
never sat long on the throne of his
pharmaceutical empire; he traveled,
met with shady contacts, and got
involved in things. There were terrible
rumors of the kinds of dealings he was
up to, and you were terribly excited
about all this. It’s too bad he wouldn’t
talk about his adventures when he
came back. It’s too bad he’s gone now.
But that won’t stop you from admiring
his tenacity and courage.



To say that you had

a privileged upbringing would be
selling yourself short: boarding
school, summers in Europe, prep
school, a year being social at your
uncle’s manor in England, Yale. Your
life leisurely meanders now from
yacht clubs to fancy-dress parties to
slumming it at five-star hotels. The
most effort you exude is during fencing
practice. But traveling first class isn’t
an adventure. You’re not keen to give
up the champagne, necessarily, but
the damsels on luxury liners rarely
need saving. So you follow the advice
your mother always repeated: dress
for the life you want. You’ve traded in
the pressed slacks and polished shoes
for khakis and leather boots. Time to
see the world from its streets and back
alleys. Of course, you always have that
safety net when you need it.

Joseph Westmore

Trail of Cthulhu: Eternal Lies DanielReed