In reply to GM StarMaster (msg # 50):

Grimsby shrugs and draws KC. "Well, it is no deuce."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:35, Mon 04 Nov 2013.

In reply to Denholm (msg # 48):

Grimdsby replied "To the Queen, our guests,and the safe return of Lord Kentigern's property."He ha no interntion of toasting a foreign power, however friendly its current representatives might be.

Though she had little love for either the Queen or the America's, Anastasia obliged in raising her glass out of politeness, taking a delicate sip of the fine liquor before returning her attention to the game at hand. As the matter of the Albatross was mentioned, she remarked about it almost absentmindedly while rummaging looking down at the card which indicated her partner would be the agent named Grimsby.

"Yes, it is not the presence of the bird which is considered bad luck, but rather the killing of one. For they are oftentimes regarded as the wandering souls of sailors lost at sea. Though what this could mean for encountering the bird in the air, I couldn't speculate."

Grimsby responded, "There are some very queer tales of reincarnation in India, though I never saw a case myself that I would call proved to the satisfaction of modern science."

"Yes, it does seem strange for an albatross to be this far from the sea," Clemens responded, as he dealt out the cards after Grimsby and Matthew changed seats.

"Perhaps it was blown off course and just chose to rest for a moment on the Falcon's railing. Certainly this airship wouldn't provide a perch!"

"They are amazing flyers, but it takes a lot of effort for one of them to get out of the water."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:11, Mon 04 Nov 2013.

Anastasia seems momentarily distracted by something behind Grimsby's shoulder, her expression and body stilling. It passes quickly, her gaze flickering away to fix on the cards being shuffled. After a couple of seconds pass in this manner she begins to voice her opinion once more.

"Science is all well and good with its nuts and bolts and such, but I do not believe it is relevant in all aspects of our lives, nor should we try and make it so. The work of Mr Clemens, for instance, would likely have been quite dreadful if it were penned by a machine that churned out prose. Science knows nothing of soul."

Grimsby notes Anastasia's  odd reaction and casts a brief sharp glance over his shoulder to see if he can detect anything that might have provoked her behavior.

[Private to GM StarMaster: I trust you will let me know if Grimsby sees anything.]

However, he continues to watch the cards and responds calmly to her remark  "I should say Mr. Clemens' work displays the quality of a first-class mind, but whether that mind includes an essence that survives the grave is another matter. Still, there are odd legends even in my own family..." His voice trails off for a moment and then he resumes in a determinedly lighter tone
"Certainly, I do not think a mechanism like our faithful Hugo is capable of literature."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:48, Tue 05 Nov 2013.

After the toast, Dash nursed his scotch while the others settled themselves down to their game of whist.  Once the partners had been established and the cards dealt, Dash finished off his drink and set the glass down.

"Thus endeth the day." Dash said to the room in general, "While it may be true that there is no rest for the wicked, I offer as definative proof of my goodness that I now retire."

Dash gave a small bow to his companions.

"I wish you all a good night, and I'll next see you in Scotland"

Whistling a jaunty sea chanty, Dash headed sternward to his cabin, where he set out some clothing and equipment from his trunk, and then went to bed.

Grimsby replied to Dash with a brief nod and rather abstracted "Good night." Between the game and Anastasia's strange conduct, he had little attention to spare.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Thu 07 Nov 2013.

Matthew does his best to contain his social anxiety with one bouncing knee. He offers a small wave and soft spoken, " G'nite sir, May all your dreams be pleasant." before turning his limited attention back to the card game. Puzzled, he asks, " Are we still playing whist? ...who is my partner? More importantly, who deal's?"

ON THE FLYING SCOTSMAN

Kentigern retired after his nightcap, leaving two crewmen on duty.

Nikola Tesla also retired early, leaving Samuel Clemens, Anastasia, Grimsby and Matthew to wind down over a game of whist.

The partners were Anastasia and Grimsby agains Samuel and Matthew, with Samuel dealing. The first hand was actually close as the real trick of the game was counting cards. Of course, others played just for the fun, and not everyone could count the cards that well. So it was a game of intellect, and there were four keen intellects there.

The deal passed to Anastasia for the second hand, which was even closer as the cards seemed to favor Samuel and Matthew more, and Matthew loosened up and the game came back to him. Still, Anastasia and Grimsby won the hand, but still didn't have enought points to win the game yet.

Thus it went to a third hand, deal passing to Matthew. The cards had definitely turned to Samuel's favor, and the team of Samuel and Matthew won the hand easily, evening the overall score. Both teams were now only one point away from winning.

With Grimsby dealing, the cards definitely turned against him and Anastasia... and Samuel. Matthew had such a great hand that it didn't require counting cards, and it was almost impossible to screw up even if he'd been trying.

So the winners were Samuel and Matthew.

The game only took a half hour, and the concensus was that another game would be welcome. The teams this time were Samuel and Grimsby against Anastasia and Matthew.

The first hand was won by Samuel and Grimsby, the second one was very close, but still went to Samuel and Grimsby. Anastasia ran the table in the third hand, though, to win the game.

That left enough time for a third game with the remaining team of Anastasia and Samuel against Grimsby and Matthew. Anastasia and Samuel won the first hand, even though Matthew had good cards, but Grimsby and Matthew bounced back to take the second hand. The third hand was the closest one yet, and Grimsby and Matthew came out the winner.

So the big winner of the evening turned out to be Matthew, who was on all three of the winning teams.

The combination of the drinks, the mental exercise of the game, and the fact that they were expected to be in Scotland in eight hours finally sent everyone off to bed.


ON THE FALCON

One of Lord Kentigern's crew had been sent over to The Falcon to assist because only Remi was qualified, though Mercy was probably capable enough. After finally accepting the crewman to take the helm for the long night trip to Scotland, Remi retired. There were hammocks or bedrolls to suit one's sleeping needs.

Mercy insisted on going below decks to 'tamper with the engines'. It was her way of relaxing.

That left Viktor and Stella on deck for a moment.

The albatross still perched on the ship's railing, moving this way and that on a seeming whim. Remi was aware that such a bird following a ship was considered good luck, and that killing it was very bad mojo. It was a creature of nature anyway, so he didn't mind its presence.

Being from Ruritania, Viktor hadn't seen too many albatrosses before now. In fact, it was probably safe to say that he'd never seen one. It was an ocean-going bird, and not even a hurricane would have carried one into the mountain country of Ruritania.

As Stella enjoyed the night air, though, she kept glancing at the bird... there was something odd about it. She was used to see birds, of course, but after a few minutes, she finally realized that the bird didn't seem to move... correctly... for a bird. The movements looked more... mechanical, somewhat like the tiny little bird in a cuckoo clock. Only this was considerably bigger.!
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:26, Sun 09 Feb 2014.

In reply to GM StarMaster (msg # 65):

Grimsby thanked the others for the game, and retired for the night, though even in his berth he kept a hand on his faithful derringer. He mused for a while about some of his stranger companions, particularly Remi and Anastasia, but concluded he lacked enough data for form verifiable hypotheses, and eventually drifted into his usual light sleep.

Vaguely suspicious that the young gentleman who kept winning was exercising some method of cheating that she couldn't quite discern, Anastasia kept a watchful eye on him for the entire game, aside from when her gaze would stray to the seemingly empty patch of air behind the table. She kept up with the conversation, mostly, though her mind was more on the cards than anything else. While slightly galled that her whist prowess was not what she believed it to be, Anastasia had better sense than to get riled over a card game, and retired wishing a sincere good evening to all.

Upon reaching her room, Anastasia cursed the lack of her maid, for trying to remove a corset by oneself was a nigh impossible task. But she eventually triumphed over her apparel, tying up her hair and tending to her beauty regimen before falling soundly asleep.

Matthew actually feels bad for winning, attributing it all to 'beginners luck'. Bidding a good night to his fellow players and offering a congratulatory handshake to his partner Samuel before finding his way to his cabin. The first few hours are restless, his mind going over unanswerable questions before finally keying in on the lulling drone of the engines. He sleeps fitfully, waking earlier than he wanted. Systematically performing his morning hygiene regimen, he makes his way back to the lounge with the now familiar dark circles beneath both bloodshot eyes. He is quiet as he once again finds a seat near the window and looks out on the ground below.

The night seems to have passed by all too quickly, and the change in the motors may have awoken you. An airship can never keep to an exact schedule because of the vagaries of the wind, and a light tailwind allowed the two ships to arrive in Bridge of Gaur about ten minutes before 5am.

The bridge went over the Gaur River that emptied into Loch Rannoch. The town was mostly on the south side of the bridge, but there were a few farms to the north. A small hill lay to the southwest, and it was behind that that Lord Kentigern brought in the Flying Scotsman.

It took about fifteen minutes to get the two ships moored before anyone could disembark. Kentigern sent one of his crew ahead into the village to rouse the lodge. At this time of year, 5am was still a bit early for anyone to be up and about. Dawn was about an hour away still.

Although it was only about a mile to the lodge, a carriage arrived to carry everyone to it.

Soon, everyone (except Hugo) was sitting around the dining room table as coffee, tee and breakfast was served.

"What do you think our plan of attack should be?" Lord Kentigern asked. "Should we rush right out there to the mine?"

Grimsby responded thoughtfully, ""Rush' is not the word I would use, but it might be wise to do a bit of cautious reconnaissance and learn more of current conditions at the mine before we make further plans." 

The Ruritanian was busily devouring his breakfast, finding himself truly famished after the night of gunplay and travel.

Viktor smiles at the mention of reconnaissance, "Scouting is a specialty I am quite experienced in, thanks to Her Royal Ruritanian Majesty's Cavalry.  I'd be more than happy to ride out to the mine and have a look about.  Is there a mount or two available in this village? " He glances at Grimsby, his appraisal of the man rising a few notches at his careful decision making.

Matthew begins to realize what he's stepped into. He was no soldier, only a scientist with a knack for the new branch of forensics. How could he help? He could only aid in the planning if anything at this point. " Reconoitter is definitely the best approach, we should know our obstacles so that each May dealt with in turn.", He says, " Lacking any skill at stealth, I will wait here to help develop a plan after your report Mister Stahler."

Grimsby responds "I presume that Lord Kentigern must have some mounts available.
Herr Stahler and I can go and report back to Matthew.  Are there others who wish to go?"

"Yes, I have plenty of mounts, unless you are planning a cavalry charge," Kentigern says. "Not sure that's a good move, though. The moor in the dark is a tricky place. There's a road of sort, but they'll be watching that."

At that point, Kentigern's son comes rushing in.

"I can tell you all you need to know!" he snaps out. "Ten men, not counting the leaders... Herr Lambrecht and Herr Walmond. They keep the mine going all day and night! There's usually three guards down in the mine, two on watch up top. They've set up two tents to the north."

He sits down at the table, pours himself some coffee, and wolfs down some breakfast.

"I think they're waiting for something, but I have no idea what."

"I can lead you to the mine on one of the back paths. I used to play on them as a kid, so I know all of them. There's one that'll take you right up to the back of the mine shack. It's only about a mile."

Grimsby says "Well, that news certainly spares us a nasty foray. But are you thinking we should all follow this path of yours for an immediate attack?"

"Well, that's a possibility," the man answered. "By the way, I'm Latimer... Latimer Swinton."

"I suppose an alternate would be to send a few up the road as a distraction... This isn't my sort of... talent, though, so whatever you fellows decide is probably best."


"We could send Hugo up the road," offers Mercy. "He moves slow enough that we could easily get into position before he gets there."

Upon waking, Dash had dressed in the clothes he'd laid out before retiring -- his darkest turtleneck wool sweater -- a faded charcoal gray -- and a rugged pair of faded indigo-blue denim trousers he'd picked up at Levi Strauss & Co, a clothier back in San Francisco.  Colonel Rooseveldt had raved about them so much, back in Cuba, that Dash had got himself a pair, the next time he was in San Francisco. Said jeans had been tucked into a worn pair of black leather Wellingtons with wool socks, while his rumpled white cap covered his head.  He was openly wearing his pistol; he'd strapped his brown leather shoulder holster over his sweater, and the large, complicated-looking pistol was nestled under his left shoulder.  The wooden "broom-handle" grip identified the weapon as a Mauser repeating pistol, to anyone with such knowledge.

Dash finished his coffee, and set the cup down, as everyone started to make plans.

"Actually, there is one question that's been on my mind." Dash interjected, looking towards the two Kentigerns.

"We've been rather blithely bandying it about, but, just exactly how does one steal a mine?  I mean, did these Germans -- I assume they are German, sir, from your use of the Herr honorific -- did these men appear from now where and rush into the mine while it was unoccupied, and now refuse entry to any who wish to?  And you say that they are working the mine?  If so, then are they somehow getting the ore out, or are they stockpiling it inside the mine?"

"They have to know that they are surrounded, and that your own workforce, if not members of law enforcement, are out here, prepared to stop them.  Yet these brigands, as we have been told, appear to have holed up in the mine and are operating it as if that is of no concern to them. It is one thing to believe that they may be trying some legal ploy that depends upon the principal of possession, but all that that would require would be the occupation of the mine."

"I do not take these actions of theirs to indicate they are part of a longer-term plan -- as would be the case for any legal claim against the ownership of the mine.  No, I believe that they are simply plundering, and that they plan to mine for as long as they believe they can get away with it, and then escape with the ore."

"Which, again, begs the question, where did they come from, and how do they plan to escape with hundreds of tons of ore?"

"Not sure they are German," Latimer replies to Denholm's questions. "That is, the two men are from Germany, but I don't think they are working for the Germans. Can't quite put my finger on what makes me say that, but something just seems a bit off about them."

"Anyway, they came by carriage. Said they were interested in investing in the mine, offered to pay for expansion. Father thought that was a good idea, since he didn't have the funds to do it himself. They agreed to father's terms, signed the agreements, and he took them out to the mine to give them a tour."

"Of course, looking back, it all seems suspicious now. For instance, how did they hear about the mine? It's only been in operation for about six months, and we're not exactly the center of civilization out here on the moor."

"Lambrecht and Walmond were now partners, and they quickly took over the mine. I mean, we didn't have any guards or anything. We only had two people working the mine, under old Cavor's direction. I'm afraid, Mr. Hawkesbury, that you have an erroneous perception of the mine. This isn't one of those huge coal mines like you have over in the Colonies. This is just a small 4-man operation. Cavorite is quite rare. We get maybe ten pounds of ore a day, if we're lucky, then we spend at least one day a week chipping away the impurities."

"The extra men appeared in the village, two or three at a time. Came by rail. Next thing we know, they are out at the mine waving guns, claiming this is what the Laird wanted. Security, they said."

"I have no idea how they plan to 'escape', as you put it.

"Ah, yes, quite right." Dash said, tapping himself on the side of his head, "I did have the image of a Tin mine I toured in Wales, last year, in mind.  But, as you describe it, this seems more akin to the prospecting mines for gold and silver out in the state of Nevada."
Dash frowned as he thought a moment.

"If these gentlemen -- this Herr Lambrecht and Herr Walmond, as you call them -- are legal partners in this endeavour, then what do you wish from us?  I mean, I agree that its quite unethical, this manner in which they are trying to squeeze you out of the partnership, but it's not like we could go charging in there, guns blazing -- we wouldn't have a legal leg to stand on."
Dash paused and thought some more.

"Okay.  They have actual posession of the mine, itself.  In a court proceeding they can make this advantageous for themselves.  However, just operating the mine isn't enough, they would also have to show a profit from their operations, which means getting the raw ore out of the mine and getting it processed and available for sale.  Lord Kentigern, with your greater influence in this region, perhaps you could arrange a shut down of transport to and from the mine -- essentially, place them under seige.  Mean while, we..." Dash gestured to indicate the group, "...could, acting as your agents, attempt to, shall we say, aquire the already mined ore from these skalawags, and return it into your possession."