Gibraltar had become a crossroads of the Mediterranean Sea. It was a critical link through the Suez Canal between Great Britain and its holdings in Asia. The Rock, one of the Pillars of Hercules, was a prominent landmark.

Morocco was only 8 miles across the Strait of Gibraltar, making it a naval 'choke point'.

It was the first Tuesday in March of 1889, a typical pleasant day, sunny but not too warm, getting a bit cool as the day wound down.

You've made it into The Rendezvous pub before the evening crowd shows up, so service is quick. Built into an old converted tunnel, the ceiling is a brick arch. The bar runs down the middle and small tables are set against the wall.


[OOC: Decide what brings you to Gibraltar... resident, passing through, or visiting (friends, relatives or as a tourist).]

Brie had wandered into the Rendezvous pub to just get a cold drink. She had her bags with her and set them in the corner and sat as she looked around the room. She liked to have a lay of the land per say. She looked to see what kind of people where in there and what they spoke. She had been paid to come her to do a job but it had fallen though and now she was here with nothing to do and was wondering if she should find any work.

She was dressed in her white bustier with a light shawl over her shoulders. She had on a long dark skirt with her boots on. yay, she was not the most modest person but she liked to show off and liked attention, depending on what she was doing of course. After a while, she would take out her tarot cards and start playing with them to see if she draws any attention. she started laying out the cards to tell her fortune, she hoped was good but who knew if lady luck was with her or not.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 2):

Grimsby H. Baskerville entered the Rendevous cautiously, as he entered almost anywhere. Officially, he was still on medical leave "with permission from a paternal government to improve" his health after the shattered arm he had suffered defending the Potentate of Karaaksbaagu ---to whose Martian court he had been accredited as Resident -- from a Ground Cleanser assassin who resented the Potentate's submission to the British. However, on or off duty, he always took care.

Having scanned the room and seen no visible enemies -- most of his were either on Mars, or dead, or both -- he made his way to the bar and ordered a half-pint of bitter --in these parts it would be lukewarm, but all he wanted was something wet, a habitual desire after his years in the arid Martian climate -- and prepared to seek out his usual spot, against a wall, with a good view of the door.

It happened that the most suitable seat was at a table next to that occupied by a handsome young woman playing what at first he supposed to be Patience, since she was playing alone.
As he drew closer, he recognized that the cards she was using were Tarot, not a conventional deck. He had seen them used a few times on the Continent, but never by a British woman such as she appeared to be: her fiery hair clearly set her apart from most of the local folk.

Driven by his ever-present fascination with the outre, he ventured a punctilious bow and and asked, "Pardon, miss. May I ask what led you to take up such an unusual form of cartomancy?"

His bronzed features and the keen eyes above his sweeping mustache contrasted sharply with his conventional dark suit, but he seemed respectable enough that his motives in making the inquiry would not be distrusted by a single lady.

"Oh, please join me sir. I learned a little fortune telling when I got myself lost in the wilds of Scotland. Its not like a like a city girl like me would know what a bog is" she says with a smile and a slight Irish accent. she was glad for some company and who knew, maybe he would know of some work but maybe not.

"My name is Brie O'Malley, nice to meet you. would you like your fortune told?" she scoops up the cards and start shuffling them like she was a pro.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 4):

Grimsby smiled a little grimly and replied, "The last time someone invited me to a ritual of that sort, it was a Martian Worm Priest who wanted to read his future in my entrails, but I settled the question with a shot to his skull. I daresay your method would be a great deal more agreeable for both parties." He seated himself and looked on expectantly as she shuffled.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Sat 24 June 2017.

"I have to admit, I have never tried to read entrails before and I agree this is far more agreeable to the person. I dare say, I am probably a little better looking then the Martian also. I would love to go to Mars. I have just traveled around the Mediterranean a bit. I love the warm weather here" she looks him over as she starts to lay out the cards.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 5):

A young gentleman steps into the cool dimness of The Rendezvous, pauses a moment as he removes a pair of small, dark-lensed glasses from his warm-brown eyes, then steps over to the nearest section of the bar which runs down the center of the room.

Of obvious European ancestry, the young gentleman is of moderate height, just a little shy of six-foot, with good bearing. His chestnut-colored hair is in good trim, though perhaps just a bit too long for current fashion, being of two-or-three centimeters length on top, parted on the left, shorter on the sides - though not by much - trimmed abouve the ears, with a long taper on the neck. A groomed chevron-style mustache rests on his upper lip, but his clean-shaven cheeks show the pale blush of the recently barbered.

He wears no hat or gloves, and his skin bears the heavy tan of someone who spends a great deal of time in the out of doors, nor is he carrying a walking stick, but he is tidily dressed in a pale blue ditto suit - frock coat open over a matching waistcoat and similar color trousers. The shirt is a daring light lavender, with a black satin bow tie, tied in the style popular in America, sometimes called a 'Kentucky Colonel'; wide bows and long tails. The shoes are a black leather, square-toed in the current fashion, but of a matte nature, rather than the popular glossy.

Though he is impeccably dressed, anyone with an eye for gentlemen's fashion would note that the young gentleman's suit is of a cut that was in fashion almost ten years ago.

Also, as the young gentleman walks the few steps to the bar, the well-travelled Grimsby might notice a hint of a rolling gait in the young man's walk, but it is so slight, it might have been several years since the young gentleman had walked the deck of a sea vessel.

As the young gentleman walks past Grimsby and Brie, they catch a hint of cigar smoke, as well something under that, something distinct ... moth balls.

"A mint julep, if you please." the young gentleman orders upon gaining the attention of the barkeep. He has a firm tenor, with just a bit of a soft drawl - likely from the American South, perhaps Texas, "Bourbon. Kentucky bourbon, if you have it."

His order placed, the young gentleman looks around the chamber, giving both Brie and Grimsby a warm smile, before his gaze passes on.

"Hol-ee shit!" came a voice from deeper in the bar. The figure had been slouched over the bar and a tumbler filled with brown. But looking up from beneath the brim of the wide hat was a young woman, tipping back her drink and shooting a hard glare down the bar. Sand still flecked the skin of her cheeks.  "That sounds like the drink of a gussied up city boy."

Her chin tips up, taking down the last swallows of her drink before slamming down the glass. It rattles against the counter as she pushes herself to her feet. The metal parts of her boots rattle as she stalks down the bar toward the man in the Kentucky tie. But by the time she's reached him, her tough-guy act has played itself out. Her glare has been replaced by a wide grin. The only sign of force a perhaps-too-hard punch to Joseph's shoulder.

"'Bourbon. Kentucky bourbon, if you have it'," she mocks, a line she's clearly familiar with. Throwing herself onto a stool next to him. If he had an accent, her's was only thicker. Twanging and rural, dropping her 'gs' as lightly as a tumbleweed. "What's got you wanderin' the desert lookin' for mint juleps like this was some sorta goddamn horse race? Maybe just figurin' out where it is you woke up this mornin'? You may wanna try that order again, they only speak some kinda pigmalian French or somethin' round here. Like New Orleans 'cept if everyone was polite. So I guess it's a bit better than New Orleans.

"But what the fuck are you doin' wanderin' round these parts?"

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 8):

The young gentleman had turned to look towards the voice when she called out, for he had, of course, immediately recognized it.

"I shall have you know, Miss," he responds in an educated tone, despite the slight Texas drawl, "that a Mint Julep - with Bourbon - predates its adoption by the Racing Set in Kentucky. And it is important to specify the base alcohol, for a Julep may also be made with Cognac, gin, or sparkling wine."

He finally grinned, "And it is the best drink for a proper Southern Gentleman, such as myself, to enjoy in weather such as this."

As the Stetson-wearing young woman sat down next to him, he leaned in and lowered his voice,

"I advise never again saying that the locals speak any kind of French, Miss." he says in a cautionary tone, "Gibraltar has belonged to Britain for almost two centuries - these folks speak English. What you are probably referring to is a local Andalusian-based dialect of Spanish, which many of the locals also speak, called Llanito..." what he says sounds like 'Ya-neeto', "And they speak Spanish because Gibraltar is a peninsula on the southwest coast of Spain."

He lowers his voice a bit more, "But, even though I speak Spanish, I can't make heads nor tails of what they're saying."

Finally he sits back on his stool and gives a warm smile, offering his ungloved hand,

"Hello Felicity, it's been a long time. How's your Father? Still trying to convince folks that his Pennsylvania accent is really a West Texas drawl?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 9):

Grimsby H. glances up briefly at the rather noisy encounter between the two obvious Americans, but as neither of them appears to be about to draw a six-shooter, he shrugs slightly and offers Miss O'Malley a sympathetic look intended to invite her to share his reserved distaste for such exuberance.

However, he simply continues his conversation with her without interruption, saying "Indeed, you are far better looking than the late priest --like most of the Worm Cult, he was a High Martian, which made him barbaric even by Martian standards, almost subhuman in appearance as well as behavior.

If you do visit Mars, I would recommend staying within the bounds of the British colony, so that you are unlikely to meet creatures of his sort. The climate is warm and dry by day, but cold at night, not unlike parts of Castile to the north of us here, I understand, though as I am only passing through Gibraltar I have not explored that region myself."

She looks over at the Americans and thinks that is another place she would love to go and visit. she looks back to Grimsby "I love to travel and would actually love to go to America and Mars. Now if I did go there, as in Mars, I probably would like to meet some of the barbarians, it would be exciting I am sure" she says as she lays out the cards "I do see you are traveling, but is it with an urgency?" she says looking at Grimsby

Felicity isn't wearing gloves- though she's got a thick pair of leather work gloves tucked into her belt. So there's no need for that before she grabs Joseph's hand for an exuberant, forceful shake. It's followed by a hard thump on the back, before she slings herself onto the nearest stool. Knuckles cracking on the bar twice for the bartenders attention as he began muddling leaves.

"Hey, his' on me, got that? And how's about some of that Kentucky bourbon in a glass without that other shit?" she turned back, giving the would-be colonel another grin.

"As for Daddy? Eh, he's got just about everyone fooled... 'Till he goes asking for a canteen of 'woder'. But what's got you all dudded up?"

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 12):

"If you will recall those cotillions in Dallas that your father made you attend as a young Debutante, this..." Joseph indicates his suit, "Is how civilized people dress, when they are enjoying..." Joseph makes an expansive gesture with both hands, indicating not just the bar, but all of Gibraltar beyond it, "The fruits of civilization."

Joseph smirks as he rests his hands on the bar, "Actually, I spent the last three months tramping all over Spanish Sahara - that's on the northwest coast of Africa, south of Morocco, just a few hundred miles from here - playing escort for a bunch of Castilian Professors who were convinced they'd found some old Roman records indicating the location of a lost Roman city down there. I was in Castile at the time, and somehow they heard that I'd learned some Arabic when I was down in German East Africa a couple years back."

Joseph shrugs, "I tried to tell them that the Swahili spoken down there only shared a few loan words with the Berber spoken in Morocco, but they said it would be fine. I think they just thought that they were hiring an American Gunslinger *snort* like I'm any kind of quickdraw artist!"

"So, Miss Felicity, what brings you to Gibraltar, of all places?" Joseph asks, "I recall you had spoken of travelling, back when I was with your outfit, but I never thought you'd ever, actually, leave Texas. It's the only place in the world where anyone will put up with half the crap you pull!" he finished with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 11):

Grimsby smiles more mildly than before and replies, "In the past, most of my travels have been very urgent, but as it happens, I am now enjoying an enforced liberty until Her Majesty's Government deems me sufficiently recovered to return to duty, so my present journey is more in search of health than any particular geographical destination."

Brie grins "I see you taking a beautiful young woman to dinner and telling her of your travels. So what do you think?" she says looking at him inquisitively.  "You are searching for a place to relax? Personally I am between work. She was glad to meet another person from England. She had been all over and dealt with so many people who were less then savory.

As Joseph tells his tale, Felicity listens. Elbow on the bar, fingers circling her glass when it arrives. Giving her liquor a swirl before shooting back a swift swallow. "How anyone would mistake you for a gunslinger... How many of them made it back to Spain?" she injects into his story with a laugh and another gulp of bourbon.

"But as for my crap? Well, wouldn't you know it? Turns out, ain't no amount of crap you can pull in this life won't be forgiven for 'round about ten dollars. Least that seems to be the goin' rate," her glass emptied, Felicity knocked the bar top again. Fingers circling in the universal indication of 'another round'. Stetson tipped back on her head, sleeves rolled up past her elbows. She does carry a pistol strapped tight against her waist- where a real rider carries their gun.

"I'm headin' where you just came through. Got myself a list that starts towards antelope, ends close to zebra, and a list of museums Daddy promised a favor to. Not even to speak of the old place in Philidelphia."

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 15):

Grimsby suppressed any surprise he might feel that a respectable young woman would offer such a suggestion to a near-stranger ---after all, he had already told her he thought her very good-looking, which might have been taken as an invitation -- and said, "As it happens, I am free for dinner this evening, so your prediction might very well come true, if you choose to make it so.. ."

Brie grins "Well of course I am right. The cards never lie, they might get the whole truth but give a hints. But I would be honored to go to dinner with you. As a woman traveling alone, I love to meet people to have dinner with and talk too" she says as she sips her drink.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 17):

Joseph gives a slight grimace, "Yes. There is very little that the American Dollar cannot make disappear..."

Joseph smiles as he is finally served his mint julep - giving Felicity a small toast before he takes a sip.

"Ah. Heaven. Actually, all the Professors made it back - though one suffered a broken leg while running from a Fennec Fox - a massive, vicious creature, according to el Profesor."

Joseph put down his drink then held up both hands about 7 inches apart and gave Felicity an amused nod.

"But, surely you don't mean you're heading to the Sahara, down Morocco way?" He asks, picking up his julep, "You won't find much to challenge you out there; just striped hyenas, leopards, some small gazelles and the occasional addax - which is a largish antelope that's a little hard to find, but quite delicious when you do."

"I'd say you'd be better off going down to the Cape Colony, or even inland to the Transvaal. The War's been over for eight years, now, and things are pretty quiet. And I hear this Rhodes fellow is doing great things to bring civilization to central south Africa. So you should go before the veldt is turned into farmland."

Joseph sips from his julep again, "I could recommend a few guides in German East Africa - but they'd just lead you back into the veldt, so you might as well go to Cape Town, and save yourself a trip round the cape."

Felicity lifts her glass in a toast. She takes this glass a little more slowly, sipping a bit of bourbon. Giving it a swirl and a twist of her tongue inside her mouth. Something in Joseph's story reminds her of the tin in her pocket. A little square that hits the counter as she twists herself toward it. The lid opens, revealing a careful pile of toasted, shredded tobacco next to a little stash of clean, white papers. Brow furrowing softly Felicity set to work the delicate, thoughtful work of rolling herself a cigarette.

"Now that you mention it, I do find myself in need of a team. Can't be wanderin' 'round the wilds all lonesome. First thing's first, I'll need a man who speaks the language when he's called on. That, or a bona fide American gunslinger," she looks up with a brand new grin.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 18):

Grimsby responded "The honor would be mine, I assure you. If you are to be my guest, I should at least introduce myself. I am Grimsby H. Baskerville, of Her Britannic Majesty's Colonial service, usually on Mars, though presently, as I have said, on medical leave. Since I have only lately arrived in Gibraltar, I not familiar with its amenities. Is there somewhere more suitable than this pub in which we might dine?"

"I am Brie O'Malley, a linguist of a sorts. I know a handful of languages around the Mediterranean. I just got here for a job that seems to have fallen though for some work. Maybe those Americans over there have an idea if there are any suitable places to eat"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 22):

Grimsby eyes the Americans rather dubiously and says, "I am not sure I would want to dine in a place that would serve that ...boisterous...young person, but her companion appears to be a gentleman insofar as an American may be one; perhaps I might be speak to him, if you wish."

He speaks as if he would be braving an unknown hazard for Brie's sake. He rises slowly and cautiously approaches Joseph, bowing and saying,

"I beg your pardon for troubling you, sir, but I am a stranger in Gibraltar. Would you be so kind as to suggest a place where I might take a respectable young lady to dinner?"

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 23):

"Nonsense, Sir, no trouble at all!" Joseph says jovially, placing his julep down on the bar, "There is no more honorable deed, Sir, than for a Man to provide a respectable meal for a Lady."

Joseph stands and offers his hand,

"Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett, at your service, Sir. If I may, allow me to introduce to you my old friend, Miss Felicity Van Horn, of the Texas Van Horns. And you are?"

Catherine had entered after Grimsby and had taken up roughly the spot he had originally gone for. Catherine was an exceptionally pretty young lady, but that wasn’t what one first noticed about her. Rather, it was her mourning clothing; all black from her veiled bonnet to the hem of her dress.

She looked around the room a touch nervously. A pub like the Rendezvous was hardly the sort of place she felt at home. She watched Grimsby and his friend, but shyly avoided meeting anyone's gaze.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:02, Thu 29 June 2017.

Aubrey strode through the door of the Rendezvous with a determined expression on his face and made a beeline for the bar.

"Dolts! Idiots! Imbeciles!" he said to himself on his way to the bar.

"Gin and tonic!" he said to the bartender. "Make it a double! Or a triple, if you know how!"

As he waited for the drink to be made, he glanced around the pub... and saw Catherine in her mourning garb. Although he didn't look particularly chagrined, he did acknowledge his poor manners.

"My apologies, ma'am, and my condolences. It's just that Professors Brunner and Thomson are so short-sighted and narrow-minded they can't see an opportunity when it practically kicks them in the teeth!" he finished, as if that explained his behavior.

Brie grins at Grimsby "Sometimes you have to take a chance, you never know who might know what"

She looks over at Joseph "Greetings, I am Brie O'Malley of Ireland though my travels have taken me many places" she had wondered what Americans were like.

Introduced, Felicity doesn't stand. She keeps her place on her stool, turning out from the bar and extending a rough, fieldworker's hand to Grimsby. Slouched back against the bar, grin still plastered over her lips.

"Pleased to meet ya. Y'know, lady that... Respectable, old timer like you? You sure you got enough respectability for that kinda dinner? I mean, I ain't got any cards on me or nothing but I wager I can see the future," Felicity joked, her tone light, as she lifts her yet unfinished cigarette from the bar. Her tongue runs up the paper's edge to seal it tight, eyebrows lifting suggestively as she locks eyes with Grimsby for the entire process.

By the time Brie has gotten close, the roll has flipped back into Felicity's lips. She pulls a silver lighter from her pocket, opens and flicks the flame to life in a single, thoroughly practiced move. "Brie? Felicity. And oh, I'm just pleased as punch. You lettin' these two show you around all night?"

She laughs at Felicity "Oh, I can see some things of the future and some are easy to see then others. And of course I would never deny what seems like fate, now would I?" she says with a grin as she waves her hand, as if she is talking with it.

"If Mr. Hunnisett or your self like to join us, I am sure Mr. Baskerville would not object. We are just trying to figure out a place to go."

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 24):

Grimsby takes Joseph's hand politely and responds, "I entirely agree with your noble sentiments, sir, and I hope you will be able to assist me in performing the deed you praise. I am Grimsby H. Baskerville of Her Britannic Majesty's Colonial service, currently on medical leave... " He is about to continue when Catherine enters and he breaks off suddenly, staring at her.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 25):

Grimsby -- for the moment forgetting his companions, even Brie -- strides over to Catherine and exclaims, "Good heavens! Can this be little Catherine? I supposed you would be staying at Baskerville Hall, at least until I could make suitable arrangements elsewhere!"

Hastily recovering his composure, he goes on, "Pray forgive my thoughtlessness. I must first express my profound sympathy for the loss of your mother. She was always my truest friend within the family, and I like to think I was hers. I shall do my best to prove myself worthy of the trust she showed by committing you to my care..."

Further recollecting his situation, he turns back to the others present and says, "I must present Miss Catherine Harston, who by the lamentable loss of her noble mother has lately become my ward, though I had not thought to see her here so soon."He adds, "Catherine, may I make known to you Miss Brie O'Malley, Miss Felicity Van Horn, and Mr. Joseph Hunnisett, whose acquaintance I have just made myself."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:25, Thu 29 June 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 31):

"Greetings, Miss Brie. Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett, at your service." Joseph says when the young Irish woman introduces herself.

Joseph takes a moment to ponder the answer to Grimsby's question, as Felicity introduced herself while rolling a Quirley.

Joseph was just about to answer Grimsby, when that gentleman sighted yet another young woman - and for a gentleman who says he's new to Gibraltar, he certainly seems to know a lot of fine young women, here! - and dashed over to her; it was quite obvious she was known to him. A fact which he quickly verified by introducing her as Miss Catherine Harston, his ward and some kind of relative.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Catherine." Joseph says with a slight nod, taking note of the all black mourning clothes, "Allow me to express my condolences, as well." While his accent is similar to Miss Felicity's Texas drawl, his is more subtle; and there's something about the way he slurs his 'r's, almost, but not quite, rolling them...

"Ah...as for dining considerations...the most respectable establishment I can think of would be the dining room of the Bristol Hotel. They have an excellent Continental menu."

"If you've a mind to be a bit experimental, my personal suggestion would be the Scheherazade; an excellent Moroccan restaurant, where they feed you delightfully spiced dishes in the old Moroccan serving style."

Joseph turns slightly to Felicity and says "Comanche style." while miming eating with his fingers.

"Or you could try something more regional; there is an Andalusian/Spanish restaurant called the Copa Cabana not too far from here which is quite popular."

The bartender, walking past behind Joseph, gives an agreeing nod as he passes.

"For seafood you must go down to the wharf for the freshest, and the best service is at the Blue Anchor. They have this Sicilian chef there who makes the most exquisite fried small dishes..."

"Ah, beggin yer pardon, sir..." the bartender leans over and interrupts, "But Adriano, over 'et the Blue Anchor, has an Eye-talian name, but he's actually from Greece, sir. And yer spot on 'bout his fried stuff, sir, his fried sardines with tapenade is one-uh me fav'rites"

Joseph gives the man a smile, then says to the others, "There you go! No higher praise than to find that the locals eat there."

"Of course, if you are of a mind for more ... traditional ... British fare, I hear that the Lord Nelson is quite popular with military officers and the government set."

Behind Joseph, the bartender makes a grimace, shakes his head, and turns away.

"As the sun is still up," Joseph indicates the day lit door and windows at the front of The Rendezvous, "There are also any number of smaller, family run cafes to be found in the immediate area."

"Now, having already mentioned it, I suppose in the name of decorum I should wave off going to the Scheherazade..." Joseph casts an aside look towards Felicity, "Probably just ... not ... a good idea. Um, the food is rather spicy, and the owners are somewhat ... orthodox. But, as I said, the dining room at the Bristol is fine as cream gravy, and the wine cellar is one of the finest in Gibraltar."

"Now Sir, that hurts, it does." adds in the bartender, with a smile, "We've a fine cellar here, we does. Cracky, we are a cellar!" he finishes with a laugh, gesturing at the walls of the well-appointed, but still recognizable stone tunnel, built as a munitions store for the Peninsular War, but now holding The Rendezvous Pub.

Catherine shifts slightly away as Aubrey storms in, a little taken aback by his behavior. He was talking in a way she naively believed to be among the rudest ways one could talk

"Thank you for your kind words." Catherine says to Aubry softly when he offers his condolences. She tried to avoid thinking about her loss when she could. Catherine was a naturally cheerful girl, and grief agreed with her as well as her blonde hair blended with her mourning bonnet. "I'm sorry to hear your compatriots are being so difficult, sir. Is there nothing-Oh, please excuse me!" she adds, but cut off when Grimsby saw her.

Catherine smiles behind her veil when Grimsby greets her. It was a great relief to see family again. "It is me, cousin. Don't you recognize me?" she asks, slightly oblivious to how much time has passed since she saw him last. Grimsby didn’t seem very different, besides a few new scars. “The Baronet thought it would be for the best for me to join you as soon as possible, so as to promptly attend to mother’s wishes.” Truthfully, she has been glad to leave. She had not often visited Baskerville Hall as a child, although she did not fully comprehend the reason, and it did not feel at all like home.

She tears up when Grimsby offers his sympathy. “Thank you. Mother was truly a special woman” she all but whispers.
“You were. Mother-” Catherine’s voice trembles a bit. “-Mother was always pleased to when she received a letter or a telegram from you.”

Catherine curtsies to Grimsby and his acquaintances. "A pleasure to meet you all. Thank you for your kindness, mister Hunnisett” she says politely. Grief would be no excuse to forget your manners, young lady she could almost hear her mother say. She looks a little embarrassed when Grimsby mentioned he had not thought to see her so soon. I only hope I won’t be causing him trouble.

Brie looks around "It is a pleasure to meet all of you. And you Catherine, I hope I can help in anyway possible. I am very familiar with traveling around though probably not as much as your cousin Mr. Baskerville who is quit the traveler.  And as far as food, I think I would prefer almost anything other then the normal British food, as we are in an exotic place and should take advantage of it.

When Joseph casts an eye her way, Felicity responds with a perfect ring of smoke. Lazily, it rolls through the air before breaking apart against his looped tie. Wearing her most classic 'who, me?' expression. Just the kind of thing that would follow someone finding a boot filled with fire ants or a tent unexpectedly surrounded by cows. The kind of look that meant there was trouble in mind.

Unfortunately, another eye on the woman in mourning grab ruins whatever had been brewing in her head. Her hat finally comes off, setting it on her knee. Texan or not there are some lines.

"Er... That's an awful shame to hear about, ma'am. I..." words fail, and Felicity turns herself back to the bartender. Her order comes out a bit awkward and uncertain, "How's about you set us all up another round? I'll take another of them Kentucky's and you lay out whatever it is these folks are drinking."

Before the question needs to be asked, Felicity has pulled out a roll of bank notes. She counts out out a few, laying them down before tucking the thick roll back beneath her men's shirt, whereever it had lived in there before.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 31):

(Note: this is actually in reply to Joseph. My computer screen is behaving oddly and I cannot access "reply" on most of the posts just now)

Grimsby says "Well, Mr. Hunnisett, you certainly have offered us quite a variety of cuisines.
My own inclination would be the Lord Nelson, but we must defer to the ladies. Miss O'Malley wishes for something more exotic, it seems. What would be your choice, my dear Catherine?"
In response to Felicity, he says, "I thank you for your offer. Perhaps I would take a small sherry. And while we are awaiting our drinks, do you have any thoughts on a place to dine?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:17, Mon 03 July 2017.

Catherine smiles at Grimsby's acquaintances, although she looks quite surprised when she looks at Felicity. She nods when Brie speaks to her. "He certainly has, all the way to Mars and back! When I'm feeling better I'll just have to hear the story."

"I suppose the Bristol Hotel" she suggests after a moment's consideration.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 37):

Grimsby smiles approvingly at Catherine's choice, and says, "The Bristol seems very suitable to me, but I doubt it would be sufficiently exotic for Miss O'Malley. It seems Miss Van Horn must cast the deciding vote." He looks inquiringly at Felicity.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:56, Fri 07 July 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 38):

Joseph looks over at Felicity, wearing the same grin and twinkle of the eye that she has,

"Don't..." he quietly says with a small shake of his head, "Arabs can be more ornery than the worst Comanche Buck you've ever met. These Arabs may have gotten used to serving European women, but you are far beyond anything they are used to. It will not end well...and you most definitely are not allowed to shoot them, here..."

"As Mr. Baskerville agreed to take me to dinner, I agree with were ever he wants. I am not that picky, I have eaten some of their food and like it. And I do speak their language, which helps a lot. Though they did ask me about doing a belly dance for them" she said laughing like it was a joke

Thank God for the bartender's quick hand and a change of topic. As the other drinks are lined up, Felicity takes hold of her newest whiskey and tilts it back for a fast, hard swallow. The glass lands back on the bar, rim to the wood and drained.

"I supposed the Bristol sounds just fine to me. And free of trouble," Felicity says, glancing back toward Joseph with a roll of her eyes. "Though I wouldn't mind learnin' more 'bout wherever they're doin' this belly dancin'."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 41):

"The Bristol it is, then." Grimsby announced firmly (he had no intention of taking Catherine to see bellydancing). "Perhaps another time those of us who wish to try the Arab cuisine can visit a different establishment, if we are still in Gibraltar."

Feeling he had overlooked Aubrey, he added "Would you care to join us at the Bristol, sir?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:44, Tue 04 July 2017.

Catherine brightens a little when everyone is in agreement. But she blushes in embarrassment when Grimsby invites Aubrey. "Oh please join us, I didn't mean to be rude." Catherine says, embarrassed that she had been distracted and inadvertently rude. "I was just very distracted seeing family under the circumstances."

At Grimsby's invitation, Aubrey gives this new group of people a quick glance of evaluation, but then seems to come to a decision.

"I say, old chap, that's mighty decent of you, inviting a stranger to dinner," Aubrey replies, "but then, most of you appear to be strangers as well."

"The name's Aubrey St. Claire. And something other than a liquid dinner..." he holds up his glass... "would probably be better for my constitution."

"I suppose you would call me an inventor. I tried to get some of my associates interested in a potential discovery, but they refused to believe the report. And thus my preoccupation with the contents of a bottle of gin."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:52, Thu 06 July 2017.

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 44):

Again Joseph acts the Proper Southern Gentleman,

"Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett, at your service, Sir." he says to St. Claire with a nod of his head, then gestures to the sun-browned, dark-haired young lady sitting nearby, "This is an old friend of mine; allow me to introduce to you Miss Felicity Van Horn, of the Texas Van Horns ... Felicity, this is Mister Aubrey St. Claire, Inventor."

Joseph tilts his head as he then asks, "You mention an issue with your associates, Sir. I take it, then, that you are a member of some group of Inventors, then?"

"A group of inventors?" Aubrey responds to Joseph. "Is there such a thing? Maybe across the pond, but here and in England, it's every man and woman for himself!"

"No, the gentlemen in question, and I use the term quite loosely, are scientists. The three of them have a dozen degrees among them, but, because I have none, they refuse to take me seriously!"

"Not that I didn't attend University... Cambridge, if you must know, but the halls of academia were too stifling. I waded through rote for two years before I couldn't take it any more!"

"Of course, just because I invent something doesn't mean it gets commercial or popular acceptance... or perhaps it's just ahead of its time. I still think my sliding toothed garment fastener is a very useful device. So is my variable resistance switch that limits the amount of electrical current that reaches a light bulb."

"Anyway, if you are going to the Bristol, I can show you the way. It's a fine hotel with an excellent restaurant."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 46):

Grimsby says, "In case you did not catch my previous introduction to the others, Mr. St. Claire, I am Grimsby H. Baskerville of Her Britannic Majesty's Colonial Service. Like you, I was at University--Oxford, Trinity College to be precise -- and I took a degree, but I must admit that I found the Crown Colony on Mars vastly more interesting than my college. All I can say for my early studies is that my 'little Latin and less Greek' was a useful preparation for mastering Pre-Seldonian Martian.
I am sorry that your inventions have not met the reception they no doubt deserved, but I shall be glad to enlist you as a guide to the Bristol, as I confess I am quite a newcomer here."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Fri 07 July 2017.

Catherine curtsies. "Please to meet you, Professor Aubrey. Thank you for your kind offer."
She's a little skeptical of the usefulness of Aubrey's garment fastener. Servants never seemed to have much trouble with laces. "If I may ask, which invention is the trouble with the Professors about?" she asked curiously. No doubt it was something exciting; a airship, perhaps.
She listens with interest to her guardian talking about languages. Catherine had a gift with languages.

"Howdy," Felicity spoke around her cigarette as she landed her hat back on her head. Landing her feet on the floor again. A soft click as the metal of her boots hit the floor.

"'Fraid I'm forced to agree 'bout college boys. Ain't yet met one entirely to my own taste. Better off, all things considered. Though ain't sure what you've got against a button."

"Oh, it is not one of my inventions," Aubrey replies to Catherine.

"No, it is a telegram that one of them received. It claimed that a man was found frozen to death over in Medina, yet when the ice melted, he came back alive!"

"Preposterous, no? Unbelievable, yes? Crofton theorized that such a thing is possible, of course, but no one credits his theories."

"I ask you, however, how did this man come to be frozen in the first place? Could it have been a weather anomaly? Could it, indeed, be a hoax?"

"All I wished was to go and investigate it, but Paddington would not be swayed, and Holsten thought it was all a big joke. Dolts."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 50):

Grimsby responded with more interest than he had previously shown in the polite conversation, "A frozen man came back to life? Extraordinary. Certainly worth investigation. If the process could be reliably repeated, it could have all sorts of valuable applications. Do you know who the man was?  Was he a native Spaniard or a foreigner? How long had he been frozen before he had revive?"

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 51):

"All valid questions, sir." Joseph nods to Grimsby, as he opens and holds the door out of the café for everyone. Joseph resigned himself to walking to the Bristol, as he didn't think the medieval streets of the Old Town, here, would accommodate a carriage large enough for this eclectic group. Luckily the weather was fine for this time of day.

Turning to Aubrey, Joseph says, "However, it occurs that the better question might be 'So what?' And I mean by that, if this event interests you, sir, why do you not just go and investigate it?"

Joseph suddenly grimaces, as the answer to his question occurs to him immediately after he has spoken it.

"Ah. Of course - the telegram was not sent to you. And the man to whom it was sent wants nothing to do with the incident, so he will not give you permission to represent him, should you go, yourself."

Brie grins at Aubrey "Well, I maybe the only none inventor as I am more of a person who gets items for people. I help people find them and worked a great deal around and I am just meeting everyone. Oh, I am Brie O'Malley, originally of Ireland.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:55, Thu 13 July 2017.

"Oh wow!" Catherine gasps. She wasn't the sort to be doubtful of dramatic claims. "How extraordinary. I quite agree that it simply must be investigated." She wasn't thinking ahead to applications like Grimsby was, but still such an astonishing event piqued her curiosity.

For a moment, after Grimsby's comments, Aubrey stares at him almost as if he'd suddenly grown a second head! And then he smiles, even laughs lightly.

"Ha-ha. Now there is a man of intellect!" he says.

"My scientific acquaintances could not see any of those things! I suppose they tolerated me because they thought that, as a fellow university man, albeit a lesser one in their eyes, I could, at least partially, understand their attempts to impress me with their own brilliance."

"Oh, I don't deny that they are learned men in their own right, but University seems to have shut down any creative spark they might once have had. I've often wondered where the imaginative wonders of modern society have come from. Take this Edison fellow. As he has been wont to say on numerous occasions, he now knows 200 ways NOT to make a light bulb!"

"Does that not sound preposterous to you? That is the rote I mentioned--trial and error. No spark of genius there! Even the very idea of the light bulb was not his. It was merely an observed accidental phenomenon that he stole and tried to make work. That he eventually succeeded is to his credit, but it does not strike me as the best way to proceed. For all he knew, there was no element that could produce significant light from passing an electric current through it!"

"And then there is his ether flyer. Stories of this invention are few and far between, no doubt to preserve its secrets as much as to preserve the mystery of Edison's genius."

"As for a claim on this event, a mere telegram does not constitute any claim whatsoever. Even if it did, he has forsworn that claim, so it is anyone's opportunity now."

"Alas, telegram's do not convey a lot of information, particularly when any kind of secrecy is wanted. Fancy codes sometimes work, but that's always dependent on the accuracy of the telegrapher."

"As for why I do not go myself, well, I have been contemplating that very thing! And although there is a serviceable road to Medina, it is still fraught with peril from bandits. Also, alas, a horse or carriage is currently beyond my means. It is why I had hoped one or more of my inventions might interest a businessman."

While it wasn't all that far to the Bristol, as it lay in the shadow of the Rock, Aubrey's running commentary made the trip pass quickly.

"Ah, here we are!" he said, as they came upon the somewhat incongruous Bristol Hotel. An odd mix of Spanish, Moorish and English architecture, it appears to have been renovated on more than one occasion. The designers, architects and builders had done a remarkable job disguising the fort that it had once been, but one could still see it if he looked closely enough.

That's a matter of opinion. Felicity walked along at an ambling pace, just barely able to keep her eyes from rolling directly onto the street. Though she wasn't quite able to keep the pained look from her face at the 'inventor's' non-stop chatter, she did at least manage not to say anything about it. Not yet, at least. Thumbs hooked into her belt, Felicity instead entertains herself with a few bird calls that quickly have them followed by a small flock of curious pigeons.

"At long last," she mumbles when Aubrey introduces the Bristol. The look of the building does little to reassure her that this is her kind of establishment.

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 55):

Grimsby responded to Aubrey, "I cannot say who else might find this discovery worth pursuing, but I for one would be interested in looking into this matter in Medina, and while my allowance from Her Majesty's government is not extravagant, it would probably permit me to employ you as a courier or the like long enough to bring us both to Medina. But we can discuss this more over dinner."

He approached the entrance to the Bristol with his usual caution, but seeing no immediate threats, he passed inside and paused to select suitably safe seats for himself and his ward.

Brie grins as she walks with the others into Bristol. She thinks how Aubrey is so much into what he is saying, he didn't bother responding to her. She walks in and waits for the others to find seats. She looks at Felicity "So, what are you doing at the Rock?"

Catherine smiles when Aubrey compliments Grimsby. His comments on Edison are rather more shocking. “B-but Edison is a genius” she protests. “I mean, he wouldn’t have journeyed to Mars if he was afraid to innovate.”

“Where’s Medina?” she asks curiously. Surely Aubrey didn’t mean he was going all the way to Arabia.

“Oh! Will we be traveling there?” she asks Grimsby. She smiles at little at Felicity’s bird calls and the accompanying pigeons.

She follows Grimsby into the Bristol and peers around interestedly at the interior of the Bristol.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 59):

Grimsby selects what he believes to be the most secure seats, and politely draws one out for Catherine; as he does so, he replies, "Edison is undoubtedly a genius, but he is notoriously hostile to innovations by rival inventors who might represent any challenge to his self-chosen role as the supreme inventor of his time. I understand from my colleagues that negotiations for the British rights to his discoveries have been very difficult, especially for the ether-flyer.
I presume that when Mr. St. Claire refers to Medina, he is thinking of the Spanish city of that name, more fully Medinia-Sidonia, best known to Britons for giving the title to the Duke of Medina-Sidonia who led the Spanish Armada. It lies in southern Spain, in Andalusia, not that far from here. A journey there would be quite feasible if we decide to undertake it.
I believe both the Spanish city and the Arabian one take their names from an Arabic word simply meaning "city," though Arabic is not one of my languages."

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 58):

"Oh, just on my way through. Passing down toward the Veldt on a huntin' expedition. Hopin' maybe to round up a few bodies for a crew. Not the sorta trip one wants to go on alone. Even if I could haul a water buffalo home on my lonesome," Felicity answers, hooking her boot into a leg of a chair to tug it out for herself. While her denim jean pants and Stetson may have had some sort of place in a dark dive like the Rendezvous, surrounded by the trappings of civilization they shine like a beacon.

Brie looks at Grimsby "I speak Arabic. That was one of the reasons I was here but my employer got arrested. I am not sure they where on the up and up."

She looks at Felicity "I have to admit I have never been on a hunting trip in the wild. It sounds interesting but I am not sure what I could add, I am not much for lifting and such" she didn't look strong at all, not that she cared, she knew it wasn't her strength. So unless the American needed a translator, she wasn't sure what she could do though she didn't even know what a hunting trip involved.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 62):

Grimsby offers Brie a slight (seated) bow and says "As-salāmu ʿalaykum" --I fear that nearly exhausts my Arabic, but I am glad to know we share an interest in languages.
If Miss Van Horn is going to East Africa, I believe an Arabic translator would be of considerable use along much of the coast, and in some inland regions as well, though I fear many of the Arab speakers inland might be slave raiders. My knowledge is only second hand -- just talking with Colonial colleagues who served in Zanzibar or the like."

She smiles at Grimsby as he offers her a seat and sits down "And peace be with you. Thank you sir" she scoots up. "Yes, its my experience you have to pick a good local guide and I seem to have good luck with that. They also then know some of the local tribal languages and who it is safe to deal with."   

Cathrine sits down. She nods to her guardian's explanation of Edison. A genius, surely, but conducing oneself politely is at least as important. She looks a little embarrassed "Oh, Medina on account of the Arab historical presence in Spain. It should have occurred to me. It certainly couldn't have been the one in Arabia."

"Of course. A lady shouldn't be travelling alone" Catherine says when Felicity talks about rounding up travelling companions. "East Africa? Goodness, that can't be safe if there's slave traders and such people about."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 65):

Joseph had taken a step towards Felicity with intent to seat her at table, but she sat herself, in her usual style, before he could act. With a smirk in her direction, Joseph seated himself next to her.

"Actually, Miss Felicity will need a translator who speaks Swahili, if she's headed anywhere near Deutsch-Ostafrika. Swahili is the lingua franca of most of eastern and south-central Africa, and while it does borrow a significant amount of Arabic vocabulary, it is, itself, a separate language."

Joseph grins and then adds, "Au hivyo niliambiwa na yule aliyenifundisha - or so I was told by the one who taught me."

"Well, I am sure I could help with that. I pick up languages quick and could make sure you find a good translator. she says with a smile at Joseph

She looks at Cathrine "Anyplace can be dangerous, slavers are just another danger. But if you take precautions, things are fine. I am not sure London is always safe"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 67):

"What's that you say?" Joseph asks Brie, raising a hand to his chest, an expression of obvious melodramatic shock upon his face, "London? Not safe? Why, the very idea threatens the foundation of Empire!" he guffaws.

Then sobers quite suddenly, as he notes the looks on the faces of Grimsby and Catherine.

"Ah *ahem* I, uh, I apologize. That was, perhaps, uncalled for." Joseph says, nodding towards the two Brits, "I fear, perhaps, I may have spent too much time in the Saharan wastes, this past trip, and I have forgotten how to behave in polite society. I, uh, beg your forgiveness, Sir. Miss."

Brie just waves her hand "If you go to certain parts of London, it is dangerous, I know, I have been there. You go to the bad parts of town and its as dangerous as the worst parts of Africa.

"No lady is ever really alone if'n she's got a friend with her," Felicity winks toward Catherine, moving her arm to expose the polished wooden grip of her revolver. Tight and snug at her waist, leather holding it secure.

"Anyways, is there a good part of London?" her tone shifts back to the normal, boisterous smirk she possessed in the dive. "I was there not last month and I swear not for a moment was it anything but a pain in the ass. I have been on cattle drives that smelled better and cowboys that drank less. Present company excluded, a'course, on both sides of the Atlantic." She nods both to Grimsby and to Joseph, awaiting her response.

At the American's words, Aubrey was a bit taken aback as he realized he'd done almost the same thing to Brie.

"My sincerest apologies as well, Miss O'Malley," he says to her. "I did not mean to slight you in the least. I fear I was so caught up in my own tale that I didn't realize that we hadn't been formally introduced yet."

"It is often one of the things that gets ignored first in the Empire's distant colonizes--proper manners. I daresay I've fallen into the pattern of the local patois."

"I am Aubrey St. Claire, now and forever more shall I be at your service."

"I must say, though, that you sound as if you have done some extensive traveling. Have you, indeed, done so?"

As they enter the Bristol, he addresses the others.

"It is not too late to change our minds, and venture forth to some other establishment for dinner. I assure you, however, that the food here is quite excellent, as is the service, and the wine list is superb."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 71):

"Mister St. Clair, I've just spent the last three months trudging through the western Sahara with a trio of Profesores from the Universidad Central de Madrid and a score of Moroccan laborers." Joseph responds with a weary grin, "When I wasn't eating paella made with greasy canned chicken - liberally seasoned with sand - I was eating beans and rice with chunks of tough goat meat - liberally seasoned with sand. So I can assure you, sir, I seek only a Chateaubriand - done very rare - and a fine Cabernet Sauvignon. Perhaps a nice French Graves Rouge or Margaux. Or, if my lucky stars should align, an aged Italian Barolo."

"No, good sir, I am quite looking forward to fine European cooking. And this looks to be just the place."

Brie looks at Aubrey "Oh, that's fine. I have traveled a lot and not done well in some of my choices I am afraid. I love meeting new people though and so I travel a lot, so you don't bother me, at least you are open and talkative."

Grimsby remarked, "It is not an insult to say parts of London are dangerous. It is simply a matter of fact, especially where respectable young ladies are concerned. I take no offense on behalf of the Empire I have the honor to represent.
I doubt, however, that it is quite as dangerous as East Africa at the moment, especially since the rise of the Mahdi whose success has provoked a vast deal of bloody chaos beyond the bounds of his own so-called caliphate.
But since we are presently enjoying the pleasures of a much more civilized enclave, I agree with Mr. Hunnisett that we should enjoy them to the fullest."
Turning to Catherine, "I hope you will order whatever you like, my dear. My responsibility as guardian will certainly extend to funding your dinner."
He added, with a touch of hesitation, "And Miss O'Malley, as you were to be my guest, I hope you will permit me to do the same for you."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:12, Tue 18 July 2017.

Catherine gives Joseph an odd look at his joke. "London always seemed a wonderful city to me" she says innocently. "Oh, no need to apologize. Exploring in Western Sahara, mister Hunnisett? That must have been awfully exciting."

She's clearly pretty shocked by Felicity's language and doesn't know what to say to her. "I, I suppose. But a revolver is not really what I meant." What a strange lady.
She shakes her head. "I can't believe the government hasn't done anything about the Mahdists. Especially after brave General Gordon was killed."
She smiles at her guardian after his offer. "Thank you for your kindness."

Brie looks at Grimsby "Thank you sir. I accept. I would be honored. and I suppose London in the bad parts are not as dangerous as Africa"

She looks at Catherine "Well, if you are going to wilder areas, you should probably learn to use a pistol just in case. You might not be a marksmen but it is better then being completely defenseless. I have a pistol with me"

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 75):

Grimsby responded, "True, my dear, Gladstone's failure to save or even avenge Gordon was deplorable, but now that Salisbury is in, we may hope for a stronger policy.
   As for learning to use a pistol, I hope you would never need one so long as you were under my protection, but if you were ever to travel on your own as these ladies are doing, you might well find it reassuring."

Her attempts at antagonism meeting with only the most momentary and marginal of success- Catherine was so obviously the soft touch- Felicity tilts her chair back. "Jesus H Christ," she grumbles as she goes far back onto her heels.

"I swear I have fully a royal pound for the the man who brings me something brewed by a Confederate!" she barks out into the dining room before letting her chair land back on all four legs. "Anyhow, you wouldn't want irons like this one. Probably break your wrist clear off. Little Derringer, though. Just enough to keep a gentleman honest."

"Though, if you wanted, I'd let you hold mine. Get a feel for it. I hear them Spaniards can be real troublemakers."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 78):

Joseph frowns at Felicity's outburst - but by the time she's finished answering Catherine's question about firearms, he has reached into his jacket and produced a thin, chased silver flask of about ten ounces size.

"Ol' Buck Posh; distilled in Nueva Carolina." Joseph says, offering the flask to Felicity, "In Texas you might have heard it called Rebel Rum. And it is a kind of rum, just nothing like the Yanks make, or even the Carri-beaners. Looks like Moonshine, tastes like vanilla cake, kicks like a mule."

Joseph then addresses Catherine,

"Miss Catherine, you must understand that both Miss Felicity and myself have been handling firearms since we were very young - I started shooting at age six. And I was what you would call a 'City Dweller'. Miss Felicity grew up on a large Texas cattle ranch, and can handle that Peacemaker as well as any man - but I assure you, she likely did not start her shooting with as powerful a sidearm as that."

Joseph turns back to Felicity, "You know, Felicity, you probably would be the best instructor to teach Miss Catherine the skills of a shootist. You're a fine shot, yourself, and you wouldn't have the chip on your shoulder that a Man would, if he were teaching her."

The grin returned to his face, "You remember that blowhard from Durango - the one who only lasted one day with your Fathers outfit?  How he was all down but nine, first time he saw you well heeled? You remember what you did when he started laughing at the size of the hogleg you were wearing?"

Joseph chuckles, as he points towards the top of his head, in remembrance.

Brie looks at Felicity "You can carry your large pistol, I prefer to surprise my opponents with my smaller pistol which is larger then a derringer. she says as she looks for a waitress, she would like a drink at least.

While you were conversing, the maître d' escorts you all to a table that other waiters have prepared for the unusually large group.

"Welcome to the Bristol, ladies and gentlemen!" he says to them as he passes around menus.

"Cassidy will be your waiter. Might I recommend the Chateaubriand with the roasted asparagus in lemon butter? And the '87 Chateauneuf-du-Pape is an excellent vintage. It compliments the Chateaubriand splendidly."

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 80):

Grimsby remarks, "I am never without my derringer, though I carry a larger pistol in the wilds."

Catherine nods in agreement with her guardian's opinions on the Sudan. "It's always best to do the righteous thing, even though it may be hard."

"I don't think it's likely I would be travelling alone, but I suppose knowing such things couldn't hurt." she begins, curious about the subject. She lowers her gaze and notes softly "But I don't think my mother would have considered it a proper pursuit for a young lady."

She winces and cradles her right wrist at Felicity's description of shooting the revolver. "I see, Derringer sounds better"

"Is that a usual education for a southern young lady in America?" Catherine asks Joseph curiously.

"Thank you for your hospitality" Catherine says to the maître d'. Her voice is soft, but she manages a slight smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:47, Fri 21 July 2017.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 83):

Grimsby comments, "Your dear mother was a woman of great practical wisdom. She never needed a pistol in England, but I am sure that if she had ever chosen to venture abroad into dangerous places, she would have provided herself with one, and the training needed to use it."

Brie grins at Catherine "Yes, proper women in Britain would not need a pistol but woman who travel do at times, depending on where you are going. You would not need it in most of Europe but traveling around this great lake called the med, you might need it. I carry it just in case and I know how to use it. I could show you if you want"

With a flick of her thumb, Felicity opens the peace-strap on her holster. It only takes one hand, a brush of her fingers, and a flick of her wrist to open the revolver's chambers. Five bullets jingle onto the table. The chamber clicks back to place in the same stroke she flips it around. Grabbing hold of the barrel to offer the handle out to Catherine.

"Long story short, that sombitch won't be saying anything about little ladies anytime soon," she laughs to Joseph.

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 86):

Joseph gives his order to Cassidy, the waiter, and does, indeed, go with the recommended Chateaubriand with asparagus.

"And, as Mister Grimsby, here, has suggested, never discount the effectiveness of a Derringer." Joseph adds, to Catherine, "Despite Miss Felicity's attitude, a forty-one caliber slug from a Derringer hits just as hard as one from her beloved Peacemaker. Well...almost...when used up close, that is."

Joseph gives a classic 'naughty boy' grin, as he discretely pulls a two-barreled, blued steel Derringer from his left waistcoat pocket, "Still, that's why Mister Remington gives them two barrels."

Catherine does not order much food. With the way she has been feeling lately, she has little appetite. "I suppose she would have" she answers Grimsby.

She smiles at Bree. "Goodness, you are all so kind. Thank you very much for the offer, miss, I'll think about it."

She accepts the pistol from Felicity, switching quickly to gripping it with both hands. "It's really heavy" she says. She winces at Felicity's language.

Catherine looks at the derringer, trying not to show that she is rather curious. "I can see the usefulness. Did you ever use on in your adventures on Mars, cousin?"

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 88):

Grimsby responds to Joseph's display by a swift gesture which reveals a matching derringer in his own hand and then equally swiftly hides it again.
He then answers Catherine, "Oh, yes, I have had occasion to use my derringer, more often than I would like. As I was telling Miss O'Malley before you arrived, I found it useful against a Martian Worm Cult priest who wanted to gut me as a sacrifice. He thought his acolytes had already disarmed me before he began the ritual, but they had only found my visible pistol. Two pistols can be as helpful as two barrels. Sometimes more so."
Looking at the waiter, he says briefly, "English roast beef, please, well done,no sauce, and Yorkshire pudding if you have it."

She looks at the waiter "I will have the beef and sauce along with some wine, thanks"

She looks at Catherine "I carry a 32 pistol, small but it has 5 shots, so I have more then a derringer and being not the best shot, I might need more then a shot" she says with a laugh. She figures a restaurant is not a good place to pull out a pistol.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 90):

Realizing that he had forgotten to specify a drink, Grimsby tells the waiter, "Oh, yes, claret please."
Turning to Brie, he comments, "There are men who call a .32 a woman's weapon, compared to their big Colt .45's, but it will do what you need without so much noise and recoil."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:37, Tue 01 Aug 2017.

"I will have whatever the hell it is you people call a piece of a cow that's had the fewest things done to it since it was a cow. I'll have it cooked till just before you think its done, and next to it's gonna be a glass of whatever sort of whiskey you got, and next to that's a glass of milk," Felicity instructs the waiter, watching him intently while she does to ensure he's listening. So many assume someone else was going to order for her.

"My pa told me there are two types of men carry a hidden gun. Those that ain't never gonna pull it, and those who absolutely will. Just a matter of sortin' out the one from the other. You want a gun you might not have to use, get one people'll see." Felicity reaches back across the table to get her revolver back from Catherine. The bullets start to slot back into place, each one falling in place easily. "I carry this here .44, back in my back there's a rifle takes the same. Aside that, I've got a custom stock .60 game rifle with which I could rightly kill a building if I so chose. I have never once had to turn the barrel on a man because they sure know that I could should the opportunity arise."

"But what's the professor got under his coat? St. Claire's gotta have something in there, protecting all those inventions."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 92):

Grimsby remarked, "I suppose I must fall into your father's second category regarding hidden weapons, Miss Van Horn.
But I agree that if one hopes to use a weapon as an instrument of persuasion, something larger and more visible may be useful."

"I have to admit, if I was going out into the wild, I might as well carry a larger pistol out in the open as I would not care but shooting is not my strength, charming is" she says with a smile.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 94):

Grimsby responded, "When I spoke of a smaller weapon, I was thinking of the derringers. I meant no disrespect to your .32. But among civilized people, I trust your charm will prove your most effective weapon."

Brie grins at Grimsby "I certainly hope so sir. I would prefer to leave the fighting to those who are experienced with it. I will stick with my more personality skills, which works most of the time.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 96):

Noting the look on Aubrey's face, Joseph addresses his fellow dinner companions with a grin,

"Ladies and gentlemen, I fear that our discussion of the merits of firearms - a discussion which I am always happy to participate in, of course - we have wandered from our original topic. That being the fascinating discovery of a frozen man, mentioned by Mister Saint-Clair, here."

Joseph reaches for his wineglass as he addresses Aubrey, "Mister Saint-Clair - may I call you Aubrey?" Joseph takes a sip of his wine, "Aubrey, as I recall, you had said a colleague of yours received news of a man found frozen, who reportedly recovered after thawing out? And in Medina-Sidonia, of all places! As I recall, Medina-Sidonia is not far from here, and I am unaware of any nearby mountain glaciers. Tell me, sir, in the news your colleague received, was there any mention of how the man had been frozen?"

Catherine listens intently to Grimsby's talk of Mars. "You simply must tell me the whole adventure sometime" she says enthusiastically.

"Well, regardless of what weapon I might have I don't think I'd be very intimidating" she admits to Felicity.

"Manners and charm are so important for a lady" she says and nods in agreement with Brie.

She turns her curious gaze to Aubrey. "Yes, it's a modern miracle. I'd love to hear the details."

After ordering the pasta marinara, Aubrey leaned back to enjoy the wine that was soon brought to the table.

"Sir, you put your finger on the very crux of the matter!" he responded to Joseph. "There was no other information provided! The others thought it was so much bosh and nonsense that they refused to even considered requesting more information."

"The manner of this person's freezing was, as near as I could gather from what the others repeated of the telegram, unknown, but he was apparently a local found encased in a block of ice."

"Some time later, perhaps an hour or two? ...the ice melted and the man recovered without any medical assistance."

"So, yes, it prompts all sorts of questions? Who was this local? Was it really ice? And, of course, how was this 'freezing' done? And by whom?"

She looks at Aubrey "That sounds fascinating. I would love find out more about that, it would be great if someone wanted to mount an expedition. But how did this man get frozen in the in the first place and in an area not near any glaciers.

Grimsby remarks, "As I said before, I entirely agree that this phenomenon of the frozen man should be investigated. Freezing meat -- even when traveling through a tropical region -- has become a commercial success in recent years. But our Argentine beef and Australian mutton is very dead when frozen and remains so when thawed, and I am astonished that a human could survive freezing and thawing and return to life as Mr. St. Clair has reported."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:49, Fri 28 July 2017.

"Oh, I see." Catherine says, a little let down that there was no other information. "It will be exciting to discover all that for ourselves. I bet there's all sorts of applications for such a thing..."

"Huh," Felicity's boots push down into the rug, tilting her chair back to a dangerous angle. Her hands slide behind her head once her pistol is safely deposited back into her holster. "That's an interesting point there, Mister Bakersfield. Sure would be quite the thing to fit a cow on a train car in Dallas, not feed 'em a bit, and unfreeze 'em in New York City. Quite the thing."

The rancher considers it another moment. "Aubrey, you say you could puzzle out what got this fellow froze and thawed, if you made it to... Where was it? Medina? Hell, I could get you to Medina with what I got in my pocket."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 103):

Grimsby responds, "I could certainly afford to transport myself --and I suppose, my ward,since I can hardly abandon her in Gibraltar --to Medina. I agree with Catherine that this process could have many applications. The cattle transport Miss Van Horn describes is only one. Consider for instance freezing a regiment on Earth and thawing it on Mars --no cost of rations on the way, no need even to provide the oxygen and other necessities for the journey. After combat, the wounded could be frozen and returned to Earthside facilities..."

"That would be interesting to find out what is happening. I have never seen frozen meat though but I can't image it is used a lot down here"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 105):

Grimsby responded, "I know little of Spanish agriculture, but my impression is that they are able to grow their own cattle and sheep, so they may not need to import frozen."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 106):

"Well, with y'all expressing this kind of interest, how can I stay out? I got nothing going for a few weeks, I'm in!" Joseph turns to Aubrey, "Mister Saint-Clair, it looks like you shall be mounting an expedition to Medina-Sedonia after all, sir! We all seem committed to investigating this extraordinary incident with you, and shall do what we can to assist."

"Now, the next question is, how to get to Medina-Sedonia. Aubrey is correct to say that the Andalusian roads are of mediocre quality, at best, and that the hills have their share of bandidos. There is no railway from Gibraltar into the Spanish interior. We must either travel by horseback or carriage. I am unsure as to the viability of covering part of the trip by sea - that is something I can look into in the morning, though."

"If only we were in the Con-*cough-cough*-I beg your pardon..." Joseph takes a sip of his wine, "As I was saying, if this were America, or even the English countryside, we might be able to arrange a steam carriage. But it's not."

Joseph shrugs, then grins ruefully, "Might as well wish we were in the German Empire - then we could book passage upon one of their zeppelins."

Catherine pouts a little at being an afterthought. She shivers slightly when Grimsby mentions the possibility of freezing a unit then thawing them out at their destination "Oh, I don't think I'd want to travel frozen. That would be frightful."

Catherine smiles at Joseph when he volunteers to come to Medina.
"Horseback or carriage should be all right. I'm not afraid of bandits" Catherine declared, with the confidence of a girl who'd never been in actual danger in her life. "Even if we run in to any, we have an American gunslinger and my cousin who has been so heroic on Mars."
"Zepplins. What excitement it must be to fly" Catherine mused.

Grimsby says thoughtfully, "I believe it is something over 50 miles from Gibraltar to Medina-Sidonia. While traveling by horseback would probably be faster, I should think a coach would be more comfortable, particularly for the ladies. I daresay Miss Van Horn may be a dashing horsewoman, but I would feel obliged to see that at least my dear Catherine and Miss O'Malley had the comfort of a coach, if there is a good one for hire. For that matter, there might be regular post-coaches along that route. We could investigate after dinner, or perhaps in the morning."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Sun 13 Aug 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 109):

"Excellent, Grimsby, you check the land route straight from Gibraltar." Joseph says, "I'll check with a few hombres I know at the docks and see about the possibility of either a quick trip across the Bay of Gibraltar to the town of Algeciras. I'll even look into any ship heading towards over to San Fernando or Puerto Real, over on the Atlantic Coast. Sailing to either town would get us to within fifteen or twenty miles of Medina-Sidonia, and only take two days, maybe three. Just a day and a night, if there's a steamer headed that way."

"Aubrey, have you any suggestions, something to add? Will getting things together tomorrow for the trip be convenient for you, Sir?"

Brie looks at Grimsby "I am fine with riding but a coach is nicer but you might want to check out the route we might be traveling on. A coach might hinder us or be impossible to take. But at least we could take more supplies and such"

She looks at Joseph "If you need an interpreter, let me know and I can go with you"

"I would have traveled by carriage," Aubrey replies. "It might take 2 carriages for all of us, unless some wish to ride." He glances pointedly at Felicity and Joseph.

"Carts and wagons make a regular trip to and from Medina... out of Algeciras. I checked. The road is reasonably maintained, and it shouldn't be difficult travel if we take it rather slow. We'll need to take an extra axle and at least one spare wheel, though."

"On the other hand, I never thought of going by sea... at least to get closer. Maybe it's because I was unsure of getting a carriage or wagon in Algeciras or those other places. I know I can get one here."

"While money talks, for the seven of us and our luggage and supplies, I'm not sure a ship would take us on such short notice. A week's planning is often required."

"Speaking of planning, what do you see as necessary supplies?"

Luggage? Felicity looks around the table, her expression slowly drawing as it dawns on her what a production traveling with this crew would be. She bites her lip and taps a knuckle against the table. The front legs of her chair finding the floor again as she begins to sort through just what could be cut. Aubrey, obviously, was required. Joseph was the one she liked, and the older Brit seemed defter at handling the scientist. The ladies clearly came wrapped in twine with the Brit.

Damn. Though there were some advantages.

"I'm already sick of being inside and we ain't even got dinner yet. Joseph, I hand you twenty dollars and you make it so I don't have to hear how many steamer trunks or pounds of axle grease it's gonna take to get us to the next hacienda or wherever it is I just got talked into goin'?" the ball of bills re-emerges from its place beneath her shirt, counting out a few bills with a flick of her thumb.

Catherine smiles at Grimsby for his kindness. She doesn't look too enthusiastic at the thought of further sea travel, having already done quite a bit of sea travel to get here. She regards the others with interest. "Well, it seems will have a lot of time to get to know each other."
She listens curiously to the preparations. It's not often she takes a trip and servants don't handle these sorts of things.

Dinner was served while you were conversing, and you managed to get in a few words between bites.

[OOC: If you want to continue roleplaying dinner and such, feel free to do so. Otherwise, I'll fast-forward to after dinner.

Also, if you so desire, you can make a TN 8 Perception check to see how you 'perceive' the meal (high is good). Otherwise, it is a fine meal, quite in line with the hotel's reputation.]

There is a 'gentleman's room' where the men can/are expected to go to after dinner for a brandy and a cigar.

There is no place set aside for women, however. In a normal house, that would be the parlor, since it's expected that the lady of the house would entertain her female guests there while the men retired to the study or den.

You noticed the room when you entered, and a few other customers have made use of it while you ate.

Cathrine only picks at her food during dinner, as she does not have much of an appetite when she is in such a sad mood.

Catherine looks a little lost after dinner. "Well, where shall we go now?" she asks. She hasn't travelled much, and isn't quite sure what to do.

Brie seems to have an appetite. She looks at Catherine "So my lady, I suppose we can sit here if the men go do their thing. I wonder if we could get some brandy or wine ourselves, if you would care for some"

As the gentlemen were escorted to the parlor for, Felicity watched with a hint of a frown crossing her lips. But once they were escorted out, she rose to her feet. "How 'bout I take you gals shootin'? Teach you how to handle yourself and whatever sorta accessorizing you choose to do?"

Brie looks at Felicity "Um, is there a place we can go here?" she was sure about it but its not like she was against it.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 117):

Grimsby reluctantly leaves Catherine (and Brie), bowing to masculine convention. He tells his ward, "I am sorry to eave you in this sad time, but I trust I shall rejoin you soon, once the gentlemen have agreed on their arrangements for the expedition." (He seems to take for granted the ladies, especially Catherine, will accept those arrangements.)

Once the men have adjourned to the smoking room, he lights a fine Havana cigar and remarks, "At least as long as Spain still rules Cuba, we can get good cigars in Gibraltar from Spanish traders." After his cigar is drawing well, he adds, "The choice seems to be travel by land or by sea. I grant that sea is almost always swifter than by land, unless there are good railways, but I fear my ward is a little delicate and may not wish to embark on even a short sea voyage so soon after a long one."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:08, Sun 13 Aug 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 121):

Joseph selects a panatela - similarly Cuban, as Grimsby's smoke - clips the end and lights up. He inhales deeply, and exhales with a bit of a shudder - almost in the same way a thirsty man might take that first sip of cool water.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Joseph nods agreement, puffing normally, now, on his long, thin cigar, "However, as Aubrey, here, mentioned at dinner, he has already looked into traffic to Medina-Sedonia - finding that the best routes all originate from Algeciras. That's just across the Bay of Algeciras..." Joseph points at Grimsby with his cigar, "...ah, on this side of the bay, you call it the Bay of Gibraltar, I believe."

Joseph notices a framed map of Andalusia hanging on a nearby wall. More decorative than accurate, it would still do for contemplative purposes.

"If we ride out of Gibraltar," Joseph again uses his smoldering cigar as a pointer, "we'd go up the Gibraltar peninsula, then around the northern shore of the Bay. At that point, we could either continue south, along the Bay, until we reach Algeciras, or we could strike out onto the Andalusian highways going north-west, eventually swinging westerly, then south-westerly, into Medina-Segovia."

Joseph turns to his companions, "As Aubrey said, the roads out of Algeciras are better than those more northerly ones. Safer, as well, I'd be willing to bet. Either way - riding around the Bay, or crossing it, I think our best bet is to go to Algeciras."

"For myself, even allowing for your ward's sensitivities, Mister Grimsby, I think we'd be best served by hiring a boat, over on the other side of The Rock, and sailing straight to Algeciras. I believe we can save a day, maybe a day-and-a-half of riding if we do so."

"We could spend the morning, tomorrow, getting those supplies here, in good English markets, that we might not be able to find over in Algeciras. Then, after luncheon, we take a ferry - or hire a boat, if there is no ferry - over to Algeciras. We should arrive before sunset, with enough time to get settled. Then, the following day we arrange transport up to Medina-Segovia. With luck, we'll get there within a handful of days, a week at he most. I'd guess three days, barring any incident along the way."

Joseph shrugs, and sticks his panatela in the side of his mouth,

"But then again," he says around the cigar, "I'm a steam-sailor, and in my time as an Explorer, I've usually walked to the places I've seen, so my cross-highway travel estimates may not be exactly accurate." Joseph grins.

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 122):

Grimsby shrugged and replied, "Once we rejoin the ladies, I will consult Catherine about her feelings on a short sea voyage. Aside from my concern for her, I am quite willing to travel by  sea. On Mars, I usually went by canal, so I d not mind water transport --though at least the canals have no waves."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 123):

Joseph brightens,

"Yes, you said you'd spent time on Mars!" Joseph says through a cloud of cigar smoke, "Couple years back, a French gentleman I was ramrodding an expedition to the Malay interior with, taught me some Martian speech. His name was Ren, and he called the language...let's see...Koline; said it was the speech used by the Martians living along the canals. Let's see if I can remember that greeting..."

Joseph pauses a moment, as he recalls the lesson from the old Frenchman, then smiles and says in halting Koline, ""

"Ren taught me that that means 'It is a pleasure to meet you'." Joseph says, brightly.

---

OOC: Joseph has 1 pip in Language: Koline - ONE PIP! Just enough to get himself in trouble ^_^

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 120):

"Aw, shucks. Set of ladies like us? We can head wherever it is we wanna. C'mon. Tie up your skirts or whatever it is y'all do, let's get to wanderin'." Felicity says as she drops a couple of colorful bank notes on the table. "C'mon, Cathy. It'll be just a glorious good time. I promise." She adds with a wink.

On her way out, Felicity casually lifts a few glasses that come within grasping range. Making no motion to hide what she's doing, until she's got a stem between every finger.

Brie sighs as she follows the other woman lead the way. She takes her shoulder bag as she goes. "Well, lets go do it"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 124):

Grimsby smiles slightly and replies "I am afraid your French companion may have misled you --or else Martians he spoke to misled him. A polite greeting in Canal Martian would usually be more like:
This message was last edited by the player at 02:49, Tue 15 Aug 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 127):

"So, was that even Martian I was speaking, or just a bunch of gibberish?" Joseph frowns, "Perhaps, on the ride to Medina-Segovia, you might help me brush up?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 128):

Grimsby answers, "Oh, it was Canal Martian all right, but it sounded more like a peddler's sarcasm over a foolish tourist than a courteous greeting. Provided my duty to my ward --and possibly to the scientific interests of the British Empire --permit, I shall be happy to practice Martian with you --after all, I need to keep it up for my own profession."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 129):

"Ah, yes. That makes some sense, actually - about being taught how to speak incorrectly, that is." Joseph says, with a wry grin, "My friend Ren, like most Parisians, had something of an arrogant manner to him; I wouldn't be surprised if the Martian who taught him did so such that Ren would be made fool of, when he spoke it. I have heard that there are Martians that are resentful of those of us from Earth - is that true, Grimsby?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 130):

Grimsby replied, "It is certainly true, strange as it must appear to those who can see the benefits our rule has bestowed on their degenerate civilizations. In fairness, Mars was once the seat of truly great empires, and I suppose their pride in that past cannot easily accept the superiority of strangers from space. As a matter of fact, keeping a watchful eye on those who share such dangerous feelings is one of my principal duties when I am fit for work, so I have probably heard more of such talk than most Englishmen on Mars."

"All right, miss Felicity. If you think that would be a good idea." Catherine said trustingly. Now that the experience of meeting new acquaintances was over, her mood seemed dampened again.

"Alright. It's awful simple a thing to do," Felicity says once they're outside. She's turned into the first alleyway available and begun setting the glasses she stole up in a rough line. On top of a short stack of crates, along the cobbled street, wherever one might fit. Once her hands are empty she starts back toward the front of the alley. Pistol quickly coming out, twirling on her fingertips. "Y'all take my irons here and hold it tight. Don't get your finger anywhere close to the trigger till I tell you it's safe. Keep it right outside this guard, ya see?"

Felicity holds her gun out, gesturing to the parts she speaks of. "Then you line whatever it is you ain't want around into the sights. Hold on real tight and brace yourself cause this'un kicks like a donkey. Then you squeeze real slow until it's done. Which one of ya wants to go first, or you wanna see me showin' off?"

"Catherine can go first, I may not be that good but I do have the basics down I think. Anyone want a drink?" she pulls out the bottle of brandy she liberated. She takes a swig of the drink "I don't know why the men should have all the fun. Too bad I didn't grab some cigars" she says with a smile.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 131):

"I would so like to travel to Mars ... one day." Joseph responds with a far-away look, "A brand-new planet, a brand-new start..."

Joseph physically shakes himself from his reverie,

"Ah, well. The future is still unwritten, as my friends in Zanzibar like to say." Joseph draws on his cigar, then considers it as he slowly exhales.

"Having just returned from an expedition in the Spanish Sahara, I had planned on spending this evening in the pursuit of the entertainments of civilization." Joseph takes a final puff, before dropping the cigar stub into a nearby ash tray, "Now, however, I will need to rise at dawn to get to the docks and see about either passage on a steamer, or the hiring of a small vessel suitable to our needs. Though most of our outfitting can wait to be done once we enter Spain, itself, there are also a few things that will be best acquired here, in British stores."

"So, if you gentlemen will excuse me..." Joseph drains the last drop from his glass and sets it down on the table with the ash tray, "I will head to my hotel - I'm staying at the Salida del Sol, just a few blocks from here - and acostarse."

"I'll try my best." Catherine says. She steps forward and takes the pistol from Felicity. Though hardly a gunslinger, she knows how to use the sights. She aims towards one of the glasses.
She squeezes the trigger, and the first shot draws a high-pitched squeak from Catherine. "Oh my! You certainly weren't joking."

Brie grins as Catherine squeals "Don't worry, it just takes practice. So if you do more, you will be a pro like Felicity" she says as she pulls a 32 from her shoulder bag and aims at a glass, the gun in one hand and the bottle in the other. She fires and barely misses a glass.  "Well, I need more practice too, what to try mine, the kick is a little less"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 135):

Grimsby replies, "I have my doubts that we can find a steamer for hire in these parts, but any  vessel may serve to take across the bay more smoothly and quickly than we could ride around it.
I will call for you at your hotel after breakfast and we can see what arrangements can be made.
Meanwhile, I must find my ward and escort her to our rooms, if she and the other ladies have completed their conversation."

He raises a hand in farewell to Joseph and departs in search of Catherine, and possibly Brie.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Tue 22 Aug 2017.

"Well, if you are determined to go to Algeciras and depart from there," Aubrey says, "there is a semi-regular ferry service. Pablo Velasquez has a barge-like ferry boat that he runs between Algeciras and Gibraltar. We could probably get him to take us across. Five pounds should do it."

"Does everyone have a place to stay for the night? Rooms should be available here at the hotel. Gibraltar isn't all that busy this time of year."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 139):

"Exactly what's needed! Outstanding, Aubrey." Joseph says in response, "What say, then, we all get together either for breakfast or after, then go about getting whatever supplies are best bought here, in Gibraltar, and plan on having luncheon, in Gibraltar, and taking the next ferry afterwards? That will give us the afternoon in Algeciras to arrange our transport."

Joseph pauses with a frown, "Ah. Forgive me, I am thinking like a sailor. Perhaps we should put off luncheon until after we have crossed the Bay?"

Joseph then snaps his fingers as an idea occurs, "Aubrey, you say you've already inquired after carriages and whatnot over in Algecira? Perhaps, around mid morning, we could send a telegram to one of those who offered you a better deal, informing them that we'd be arriving in the afternoon - could get us a head start. I mean, while I have no objection to staying overnight in Algecira, I'm beginning to get that old wanderer's itch to be about the journey. If things are half ready for us, when we get across the Bay, we could leave that much earlier."

"We'd spend tomorrow night on the road...probably camp on the outskirts of Algecira..."

Joseph grins widely, "For Miss Felicity and myself, that will be no issue - we are quite used to sleeping under the stars, and the Andalusian climate, just now, is quite like central Texas. But, perhaps we might find a small village with an inn, along the road." Joseph nods at Grimsby, "For your Ward. Unless you feel some rugged outdoorsmanship might help her get over her grieving...?"

Joseph claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously, "I must say, after slogging through Saharan sands for over a month, I didn't expect to be this ready to hit the road, again, but this mystery of the frozen man is just too exciting. I can hardly wait to talk with the fellow...ask how it felt to be frozen solid!"

Catherine's squeak draws a chuckle from Felicity, her thumb hooked into the loop of her denim pants. "Aw, that's a dreadful good first try," she compliments, eyeing the wounds in the stones and building stucco the two women's shots have left. Sliding in behind Catherine, reaching around her to take hold of the pistol while she holds it. "Just a little tighter and I think you'll be handling anyone comes your way."

Gently, Felicity guides the next shot. Bang. A glass explodes.

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 140):

Grimsby responded, "I agree that the ferry seems to simplest solution to the first part of our journey. As for tonight, I was already staying in Gibraltar, so I already have rooms here, and I should be able to arrange a place for my ward. Breakfast is included there, so we will meet at your hotel afterwards. You may have a point that we should not wait until after luncheon --give breakfast good time to settle before risking the crossing. My stomach is accustomed to travel, but I cannot speak for Catherine's. For her sake, as you suggest, I think we would want to break our journey at an inn overnight and not camp under the stars. I have done that often enough that I find it merely inconvenient rather than romantic." 

Catharine nodded a little nervously and took aim with Felicity's help. She brightened when the next shot hit. "I got it!" she said excitedly.
"Goodness, miss Felicty, you must put in an awful lot of practice at this"

Brie looks at Catharine "Like anything, it takes practice, one reason I am not too good at it. I would rather talk my way out but some men are hard to get though, so a pistol help."

When Felicity draws her hand away, it's holding her pistol. A flick of her wrist spins it around her finger. Tucked swiftly back into its holster. "Not too bad at all. And like, eh... Brie here says. It's all about practicing. Just gotta find an excuse. Anyways, these here are hardly the real deal. Naw. Y'all should think about joining me on a hunt sometime. It's just the best. Quiet and peaceful. Just you and the sky and nature. Can't beat it, no matter how many wine glasses you pop off."

"I have to say I have never been hunting, well, not for animals anyway" she says with a smile at Felicity.

She holds out her pistol to Catharine "What to give it a try. its kick is not as bad"

The area is not all the built-up yet, and much of the open area has been used for military training purposes over the centuries, so there was no real problem doing a bit of target practice. Although it didn't last very long, it draw the attention of some of the locals... particular a pair of British soldiers. Apparently, they are rather amused at the spectacle of women firing guns.


Everyone goes back to their rooms, and the night otherwise passes uneventfully.

In the morning, anyone who would like breakfast in bed can order room service. Or else you can go down to the dining room where they the kitchen is serving a continental breakfast. Regular breakfast will be served later.

Aubrey is already in the dining room when anyone else shows up. He's having coffee and a croissant.

Grimsby by long habit, sleeps soundly, wakes early, shaves and dresses briskly, and knocks at Catherine's door in the adjoining suite he had arranged for her, calling out "Are you ready to rise, dear niece?"

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 148):

Joseph had risen and dressed early, holding off on any breakfast, for now, and checking out of his hotel room; making arrangements to have his luggage delivered to The Bristol - which he is assuming will be Expedition Central, for now.

Leaving the Salida del Sol, Joseph heads for the docks and makes a few enquiries about locating Pablo Velasquez. Once gaining the information he wants, he heads back up the hill to The Bristol.

Entering The Bristol, Joseph stops at the desk to alert them to the imminent arrival of his luggage - assuming it hasn't preceded him - then enters the dining salon, spotting Aubrey.

"I say, Aubrey! Good morning!" Joseph calls, joining the inventor at table.

Transformed from last nights well dressed dandy, Joseph now wears a pair of rugged khaki trousers with military boots that make a distinct clicking sound as he walks over uncarpeted floor; a brown leather waistcoat is draped over a white, heavy cotton shirt, which he is wearing open-collared. A black leather gunbelt is at his waist with a rather over-sized looking revolver holstered on his right thigh. As he sits, Joseph hangs a dark, leather-looking hat, with one side folded up and held with a bit of colored ribbon and a metal pin, on the back of his chair.

To Aubrey's eyes, Joseph probably looks the perfect figure of an American Cowboy.

Joseph sits and give a quick instruction, in Spanish, to the waiter, then turns to Aubrey.

"So, mon ami nouvel, ready to be on the way?" Joseph asks, then nods his thanks to the waiter, as a cup of black coffee is set before him, "Oh, I never thought to ask, last night - how will your colleagues take your haring off to pursue this issue? Are you in any danger of losing your position, here in Gibraltar?"

Cathrine had responded with interest and curiosity to the idea of hunting, but she was embarrassed when the target shooting attracted attention.

When Grimsby knocks on her door, Cathrine stirs and it takes her a moment to remember all that had changed in a rather short time for the young woman. "Oh! Cousin Grimsby. I suppose I am. Let me get dressed." It takes some time for Catherine to dress and get ready without the staff she had been used to at home, but eventually the door opens and Catherine curtseys to her guardian. "Good morning!" she says, her usually cheer emerging despite her tragic circumstances. It was wonderful to not be alone anymore.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 150):

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 150):

Grimsby waits patiently for Catherine to dress -- he had not been responsible for a young lady before, but he has a notion they take time for such matters --and when she appears, he says "Good morning, Catherine. Shall we go down to breakfast?" Taking her agreement for granted, he heads down to the dining room, and seeing Aubrey, says "Good day, Mr. St. Claire. Are you ready for our expedition?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:31, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

"Good morning, Mr. Hunnisett," Aubrey returns the greeting.

"I expect it to be a cold day in hell when my snobbish colleagues, dare I use the term, will make enquiries to my whereabouts. Should it come to their attention that I have gone to Medina, they will no doubt have a good laugh at my foolishness."

"If I return unsuccessful, they will have further laugh at my expense, and never forego an opportunity to rub it in with the ubiquitous 'I told you so'."

"On the other hand, should I return successfully, then it is they who shall be eating crow."

"There are a few purchases that I must make here before we depart... scientific equipment will be hard to come by here in Gibraltar, but impossible in Algeciras."

"You should also pick up any ammunition you may think you need. Even should you find it in Algeciras, it will be two to three times as expensive there. And getting it in Medina... well, even harder to find and even more expensive."

PM

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 153):

Grimsby responds, "I have a supply of ammunition for both my pistols in my luggage, but I would not mind laying in a little more--it is always best to be prepared. If Catherine has profited enough from Miss Van Horn's instruction that she now wishes to have a weapon of her own, I would be willing to buy her one. I suppose that would be considered a legitimate expense of her mother's estate. I hope to defend her myself if that should prove necessary, but one never knows when an unexpected enemy might appear."

Brie comes down dressed for travel in a comfortable dress and boots with a cloak. She has her shoulder bag with her. "Good morning all. I can't wait till we can get going. Has anyone checked on a boat?" she gets some tea and breakfast.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 156):

"Good morning Miss Brie. You look well prepared for travel." Joseph says with a raise of his coffe cup.

"Yes, I checked on a boat, earlier." he continues, sipping at coffee and nibbling a croissant, "Mister Saint-Clair, here, has already made arrangements to hire out a ferry for the day. I believe the plan is to finish breakfast, then gather a few supplies best bought here in Gibraltar, then sail for Algecira around mid-day. We'll luncheon in Algecira."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Tue 29 Aug 2017.

Catherine smiles at everyone when she arrives. She pauses to remove her hat and mourning veil for breakfast.
"Goodness, mister Aubrey, your colleagues don't seem very friendly at all" she says. Catherine sips some tea but doesn't eat much for breakfast.

"Oh, I suppose I could purchase such a weapon, if you know one that would suit me. I really don't know anything about the weapons available." she responds to her guardian.

Catherine isn't enthusiastic about the ferry trip, but brightens at the idea of shopping in Gibraltar.

If Felicity's outfit has changed from what she wore yesterday, the distinction is subtle. She strolls into the hotel in her blue denim pants, boots, a white cotton shirt. Wherever she slept, she was walking into the hotel from outside, not from upstairs. Stetson hat tilted back on her head.

"Aw, damn, Joe," she says, on first seeing her fellow American, "I'm already missin' that suit. It was maybe the stupidest lookin' thing I ever saw, but it grew on me awful quick. Cute little tie and all like a little package." She laughs, dragging over a chair from another table to make space for herself.

"Tell one'a these fellers to get me a cup of coffee, would ya?" she asks, before looking out to the rest of the little party. "So! Who's ready to be anywhere else?"

She grins at Joe "I got cloths for riding later if they are needed. I would suggest some food as who knows what we might find on the other side. And I could use another box of ammo if we can find it"

She looks over at Catherine "Oh miss, you just need something you can handle as far as a pistol. In the wilds we might be in, it would come in handy. You just need more practice."

Grimsby commented, "Yes, a small light pistol would probably suit you best, Catherine. You may also want to purchase some sturdier clothes for traveling in these parts. I have some of my own in my luggage, and other light camping gear, but you might want something for yourself in case we could not find an acceptable inn."

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 160):

Joseph grins and assumes a haughty attitude at Felicity's jibe, "Why, Miss Felicity, I will have you know that that suit was quite rakish on the streets of Galveston..." he raises his cup and, just before taking a sip, adds, in a mumble, "...when I bought it, six or seven years ago..."

"As for the coffee..." Joseph continues, setting down his own now-empty cup, "Aubrey, as a Gibraltar resident, you probably already know this, and Grimsby, as a well travelled gentleman, you also probably know this as well, but, ladies, the Spanish roast their coffee beans differently than everyone else - even the Arabs who brought them coffee beans, originally."

"The result is that Spanish coffee is quite strong in flavor and effect. Felicity - the trail coffee that we always drank black would seem burnt and watery, by comparison. Not that I am trying to dissuade any of you from trying the local brew; I am just informing you that it will be quite different from anything you have ever had before. Also, if you should prefer something more familiar, I am certain that a French roast of coffee is available, it's just that, uh..." Joseph looks over at a passing server, "The wait staff tend to find it amusing to serve French café au late to Men, if you catch my meaning..."

"Anyway, Felicity; I do believe you will find the Café Solo - what the locals call a cup of regular black coffee - to your liking."

Joseph catches the eye of a nearby server, "Mi amigo, un Café Solo, servido en una taza de porcelana, por favor, con dos croissants y mermelada, para la señorita." he says, gesturing towards Felicity.

"Of course," Joseph adds, turning back to his companions, "this being British Gibraltar, just about any kind of tea you would want is available, I'm sure."

Grimsby says, "I would prefer tea myself, and I suspect Catherine would as well, though that is her choice." He glances at his ward to see her response.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 163):

"Well, then. Next on the agenda - where to after breakfast?" Joseph says, "I assume all of us have our luggage packed, so that we'll only need to get those few things needed for the road. Thus a visit to a gunsmith for arms and ammunition, a chandler for the little camping gear we shall need, and perhaps a grocer for a few victuals and necessities. Felicity, Mister Grimsby, can you think of anything to add?"

Catherine giggles a little at Felicity's teasing of Joseph. "Oh dear" The American was so unlike the people Catherine knew.

Catherine turns her black bonnet with its mourning veil over in her hand. "I am somewhat limited in attire choices at the moment" she says quietly, choosing to address the matter only obliquely "But I'm sure I can find something for travelling. And I shall look in to getting a firearm, although I'm sure with you to protect me I shalln't need it." she tells her guardian.
She nods at Brie, appreciating her encouragement

"Oh yes, please, some tea would be wonderful" she adds, much more cheerfully.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Fri 01 Sept 2017.

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 164):

Grimsby replies, "I am ready myself, aside from the extra ammunition, so once Catherine has made her purchases, we should be able to set out."He turns to the waiter and (with firm confidence that the man should know English if he is serving guests in Gibraltar) says "Tea for myself and the young lady, please." indicating Catherine.

"Maybe Catherine and I could get some clothing here before we leave for her, I doubt we will find little across the water for her. I do have some travel clothing and I could help her if that is alright with you miss?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to delay you" Catherine says to Grimsby

"Oh thank you, miss O'Malley, I appreciate the assistance." Catherine says gratefully. "It's very kind of you."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 168):

Grimsby responded, "I would very glad for any help you could give my ward, Miss O'Malley; I confess I know little of shopping for women, whether in Gibraltar or elsewhere."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:25, Sat 02 Sept 2017.

"How long you reckon we'll be on the trail for, Joe?" Felicity asks, taking the coffee brought to her from the hand of the waiter rather than letting him set it down first. "I just rolled into town when I ran across this little outfit, so I'm a bit spare. But you know me, like to travel light irregardless."

Brie grins at Grimsby "Oh, it might be more of a challenge here but at least being a British colony, there are certain challenges.

"Actually, the Spanish women are more apt to have rugged traveling clothes than the British," Aubrey mentions. "It's not that we pamper our women any more than the Spanish... I'm sure you are all familiar with the lovely senoritas... but once outside the cities, Spain is still rather rugged country. Spain is somewhat of a late entry into the game of modernization, though not as bad as the Turks. About on par with the Russians. They have the problem of too much territory, so bringing modern marvels to all of it is utterly prohibitive."

"Of what use does a peasant have for a railroad or a telegraph? Electrical lines are hard to maintain when any fool with an axe can topple a pole. The reasons for such acts of idiocy are too numerous to mention."

"Anyway, I recommend that the women wear more rugged clothes, and sensible shoes. There might come a time when you must run to safety across less than optimal ground. As the saying goes, 'hope for the best, but plan for the worst'."

"A few shops along the docks cater to the army and navy, but there's not much in the town for the civilians yet."


After breakfast, he heads off with the others to the shops. He picks up some scientific equipment... Bunsen burner, chemical supply kit, sparker, a small case of glassware, an assayer's scale, and a few other incidentals. He also picks up two bottles of gin and two bottles of whiskey.

The town and docks are all on the bay side of Gibraltar, so everybody gets their shopping done in about 90 minutes, leaving about 30 minutes to make your way to the dock with your luggage.

When you get to the designated dock, the boat is a steam launch, not much different than what you'd seen on the River Thames in London. It's a bit wider, looks like it was a converted barge with a steam engine added. A colorful canvas canopy has been put over it, and rows of seats have been installed in about half of the cargo space. The rear half is left for luggage and large equipment, perhaps even a horse.

The 5-mile trip across the bay to Algeciras will take about an hour.

About a dozen people are already sitting in the boat.

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 173):

Having purchased some spare ammunition for both his pistols, Grimsby then shepherded (or attempted to shepherd) Catherine and Brie around as they did their shopping, and saw to it that his little party reached the launch in time to secure good seats. He saw to the packing of the larger luggage in the rear and then returned to sit beside them, saying  "Well, we should be off shortly. A steam launch is about the best we can hope for in Spanish transport. We may as well enjoy the ride, as conditions may be rougher once we reach the other side of the bay and are truly in Spain. I daresay Miss O'Malley has seen worse, but it may be an adventure for you, Catherine." 

Brie will help Catherine get the clothing and boots she needs, hopefully with Grimsby's encouragement. She has some idea what is needed and wears the more comfortable clothing.

"Catherine, I would also suggest some woman's riding pants that are easy to move in and comfortable. Plus you can ride like a man and even though you might not think it proper but in the wilds, no one will care at all" she adds while they are shopping and then head back to meet the rest of the party.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:15, Mon 04 Sept 2017.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 175):

Catherine blushed. "I don't really ride astride. Mother says-said-it isn't ladylike."

She clearly enjoyed the shopping, but even more enjoyed the chance to have company, and she chattered happily throughout.

"Well, my first adventure." she responds brightly to her guardian. She looks out over the waves, but obviously can't see the destination. "Mystery and adventure. I bet this is old hat to you, cousin."


This message was last edited by the player at 08:23, Mon 04 Sept 2017.

Brie grins at Catherine "It might not be lady-like but you have to not worry about such things in the wild. There is a lot we might have to do that is not ladylike."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 176):

Grimsby remarked drily, "I hope you have no adventures more dangerous than this little boat ride, my dear ward. Danger is part of my duty, but I hope I will not bring you into it"
He also responds to Brie, "Thank you for advising Catherine. I must accept your opinion on how a  lady behaves in the wild, as I am not accustomed to seeing respectable British ladies in the wilder parts of Mars."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Tue 05 Sept 2017.

Catherine looked embarrassed, aware she may have acted more eager than was proper. "Oh, yes. I'll be careful. I'm sure nothing will happen."

Brie grins at Catherine "I am sure Mr. Grimsby will do everything he can to protect you. I can't wait to get going"

Grimsby says, "As soon as the launch is loaded, I trust we will be leaving. All of our own party should be here by now."

"I know he will." Catherine agreed cheerfully. "Anyways, I don't think they'll be any trouble."
"Even if one of us gets frozen, we now know we'll thaw out just fine" she added, giggling.

"I just don't see why we couldn't'a just ride there," Felicity complains to Joseph as they boarded the ship. "Take a little longer but the trips better and we ain't exactly in any sort of rush, are we? Miserable time, little dingies."

Grimsby responds, "I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Van Horn. I would not have minded riding myself -- though I have spent more time on Martian gashants than horses -- but as Catherine has not had your equine experience, I thought the ferry might be easier for her to begin with.
Of course, we will need to make new arrangements once we reach the other shore, so you may be able to satisfy your desire to ride at that point."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Mon 11 Sept 2017.

"I can ride and I am sure Catherine can learn, we woman can pick up things quickly" she says as she lugs her bags to the ferry.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 185):

Grimsby replies, "I am glad you can ride; I hope you and Miss Van Horn can teach Catherine riding if necessary. It is rather different for women, or at least, for English ladies who are expected to ride side-saddle."

"Side-saddle? What..." Felicity seems staggered by the idea. Her brow furrows, head tilted. She even draws off her hat to pat it against her flank while she ponders the possibility. "How the hell you keep from fallin' off the goddamn thing?"

Catherine smiled, grateful to Grimsby for considering her. "Oh, I'd like to see a Gashant someday."

She was a little caught off guard, not expecting that something so normal to her would be strange to Felicity. "Oh, there's a special pommel and a stirrup to support you. Really, it's not so hard, miss Felicity and-" it's modest, she was going to say, but it would be rude to imply Felicity rode immodestly "-quite pretty. It does take proper posture to stay on, though."

Brie looks at Catherine "My lady, I doubt we will find any side saddles in Africa. You may have to ride in a way that is not as lady like and if we have to ride quickly, it is better to do it as a man would." she knows it is not what Catherine wants to hear but it is what is practical. When the group gets out in the wilderness, she will need to ride like the rest of them, unless of course they do go into the wilderness as much as she think.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 189):

Grimsby comments, "Some English ladies can ride side-saddle quite fast -- they use those saddles for fox-hunting, clearing fences at a gallop. But I must admit that even the most experienced ones are known to take hard falls. It may be safer for Catherine to ride astride if we cannot hire some kind of coach."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 190):

"Yes, I'm afraid I agree with Miss Felicity's sentiments, concerning riding." Joseph nods, "Perhaps its our background on the American western frontier, but sidesaddle just isn't practical, where we come from. The distances are longer, the dangers are greater, and the needs for speed and sudden direction changes are just too high."

"Mother, a daughter of a fine Galveston Family, I assure you, rode often, and did so on a standard western saddle in purpose created finery. As the story goes, she met my Father while out riding, and their love of horses is what brought them together. She rode well into her Fifties, until the day we heard Fathers ship was sunk. After that,she never rode again..."

Joseph turns to look out over the water.

"I suppose I can try" Catherine said without much confidence. "I suppose it depends on what we find."

She smiled a little as Joseph talked about his parents, but teared up at the end. "Goodness, mister Hunnisett, I'm sorry about your father." His story hit rather close to home in her present circumstances.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 190):

"I am fine with a coach as it can carry supplies too but depending on where we go, it might not be an option. A coach needs a road." she figured she would not say too much till they got there and found what they could. At least she could ride some.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 193):

Grimsby, seeing that Catherine looked uncertain, said bracingly, "I feel sure that there must be enough of a road to Medina to take a carriage; after all, it is a city of some size and reputation. The Spanish roads may not match our best British macadam, but after all, there are still plenty of country lanes in our own countryside which carriages can pass. The Spanish should do that well, at least."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 192):

Joseph turns back with a smile, "I thank you for the sentiment, Miss Catherine, but not to worry. My Father was killed back in 'Sixty-Five; I was a mere lad of seven. Plenty of time, since then, for the hurt to heal."

"But I really do recommend you to the instruction of Miss Felicity, in regards to horse riding. She will have you an accomplished range rider in no time. Although...as I think upon it, now, I don't think she's familiar with your English style of riding." Joseph looks over to Felicity,

"Felicity, do you know the English style of riding? Have you even seen an English saddle?"

Brie looks at Joseph "I am not sure but if we get horses in Africa, I think the saddles are not like our English ones. So I guess there is no use in worrying about it yet.

Grimsby commented, "I must confess I do not know what kinds of saddles we might find for ladies to use on Spanish roads.  We can worry about that once we have reached the other sure and made inquiries. If we can find a carriage for Catherine to take, we may not need to seek a saddle for her, or a horse."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 197):

Joseph looks from Brie to Grimsby and back with an amused expression.

"I realize you're both from the British Isles, but, you mean, neither of you know the origin of the saddle we use in the Americas? Really?" Joseph asks, gesturing south, across the Mediterranean,

"The Moors brought their saddles - made for swift, sword-swinging cavalry charges - to Spain when they invaded, and the Spanish then modified those saddles for the use of their armored knights. When the Spanish went a-conquering in the New World, they modified the saddles again to meet the needs of the explorers. Over time this settled into two distinct types, the style of the Texicanos which was adapted for the plains and is now found from the Gulf of Mexico all the way up to Canada, and the style of the Californios, found all up and down the west coast and into South America, a slightly lighter saddle often heavily decorated with metalwork and leather tooling."

"When the English settlers of the Atlantic Coast met the Spanish settlers in Florida and that part of Mexico that would become Texas (he pronounces them "Meh-hee-co" and "Tay-hahs" as if it came naturally), they quickly saw the greater utility of the Spanish saddle, and within a single generation, the English saddle had almost disappeared from America."

Joseph snorts in amusement, "Actually, in Algecira, that may be the case as well, and it's  English saddles we'll have a hard time finding." He shrugs, "Or maybe not. With Gibraltar this close. Either way, if you'll forgive a little homespun pride, I really think that Texan trail riding will be the quickest and easiest to learn. Either way, we'll probably need at least a wagon for luggage and a carriage if we can swing one."

"What about you Aubrey, old sport, much of a rider, are you? Looking forward to a trot through the Spanish hills?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 198):

Grimsby replied, "Thank you for your history of the American saddle. It does explain why you and Miss van Horn are accustomed to a very different riding style. I believe that English-style saddles are used widely among the upper classes on the Continent, and even in some parts of America such as Virginia. But whether such a thing as an English lady's saddle can be found in a small southern Spanish town, I do not know."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 199):

"Yes, locating one might be tough." Joseph nodded, "Say, Grimsby - would I be too forward to call you Grimsby, Sir? And you must call me Joseph, but please, do not call me Joey. Only Miss Felicity calls me that, because she knows how much I hate the moniker; which amuses her to no end."

"Anyway, Grimsby, you mentioned you'd ridden a Martian animal, the, uh - oh, what did you call it? - gushent, wasn't it? What are they like? Did you use a Martian saddle, or did they take to an Earthly saddle?"

Catherine nodded, reassured, when Joseph smiled at her.

"I don't mean to be a burden." she said softly. She nodded to Brie "Right, no sense worrying about it yet."

She listened to Joseph's story, then turned curiously to her guardian when the subject of Mars came up.

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 200):

Grimsby replied, "You may call me Grimsby, if you wish. It seems we may be traveling together for some time and there is no need to stand on formality, though I would not presume to use such familiar address with the ladies without invitation.
Regarding gashants, they look something like kangaroos with the heads of giant parrots -- they are reptiles with two powerful hind legs on which they walk, and small atrophied forelegs which they use for defense, so their movement is not as smooth as the gait of a well-schooled horse, but the saddles are roughly similar. Gashants were tamed by the Martians long before we came, so most riders -- Martian and human -- use Martian tack."

In due course, the barge-ferry is loaded with cargo and passengers, and sets out across the bay. The low profile of the boat and the weight keeps it from being overly affected by the waves of the open sea, particularly since the bay is somewhat sheltered by the peninsula.

On the other hand, the barge doesn't move very fast, but it makes it across without any incident. Clearly, Pablo has made this trip many times.

The barge-ferry docks and everyone begins to disembark.

Grimsby gets up and assists Catherine to land, then goes to make sure that their luggage has all been safely unloaded. He looks around to see if Brie in particular or any of the others needs any help, and says "Well, since we will be traveling by land from here, I suppose we must find a livery stables, for horses, or find a coach --or possibly a train. From speaking to a fellow traveler on the ferry, I found there is a railway in Algeciras, though from what I can make out, it does not connect very directly to Medina Sidonia."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:41, Mon 25 Sept 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 204):

Joseph, who, one way or another, had spent much of his youth around both sea and fishing ports, was looking for likely prospects to hire as temporary porters. He turned from his assessment of a pair of Spanish lads - probably young men whos fathers either weren't fishermen with their own boats, or, more likely, the boys were orphans, simply looking for any work they could get.

"Really? Rail Service into interior Andalusia?" Joseph asks, "Did your source mention just how far the railway did go?"

"We should probably find out how far the rail goes and if its just easier to get horses and travel that way." she walks over to men who might be picking up cargo or something .

Grimsby answered, "I gather the railway from Algeciras runs north and a little west, with the next major city being Bobadilla, whereas Medina-Sidonia is east and a little north from Algeciras. This would mean if we went as far as Bobadilla, we would need to double back southeastward for Medina. Going by rail all the way would be quite roundabout, though it might be worthwhile to take a train north for a few stations and then cut across country. Another question would be whether we can find good horses, or, if possible, a carriage to use instead of the train."

Catherine gingerly steps out of the ferry. "That was a pleasant enough voyage." She looks around curiously. "Let's begin the search"

Grimsby says, "Welcome to Spain, my dear. Yes, let us see what we can find in the way of transport before we try to make a final decision on our next move."

"Si, senor," Pablo says to Grimsby, having overheard the conversation. "The train goes north to Ronda."

"If you need to go elsewhere on the roads, you will need a carriage for the senoritas, no? You should go see my cousin Hernando. He has a carriage shop on Teniente Serra."

"He is more likely to help you if you tell him I recommended the Irizar Coach Company... his arch-rival."

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 210):

"Capitán," Joseph addresses Pablo, "excuse me, but did you just say the train goes north to Ronda?"

Joseph turns to Grimsby, "Medina-Sedonia is supposed to be north-west of Algecira, with roads mostly through mountain country. Are you sure going to Ronda, first, is the way to go? Maybe we should get our hands on a good map of Andalusia?"

"Perhaps the Capitáns cousin, Hernando, might be able to provide some travel advice, as well. We can always go to the rail station and buy tickets - let's go visit Cousin Hernando, first, and get a lay of the land from a local, what say?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 211):

Grimsby said, "The man I spoke to earlier showed me a map; I am sorry I did not see if I could persuade him to part with it to share with you.  As I attempted to explain, the train does not go directly to Merida from here. It is true the train from here goes north (really northeast) east, and we want to go northwest. As I said, we have the choice of either traveling by train all the way --which would mean going north and a bit east to Bobadilla and then taking another train back west, or taking a train north for a shorter distance and then changing to horses or a carriage to go west. The third choice would be to take up Pablo's offer and go directly to Medina by carriage or horses or some of both.  That would be the shortest route, but by the slower form of transport. I thought a train might be easier on CAtherine, but if the party really prefers carriages, I am willing to try them."

"Thank you, Pablo" Catherine said cheerfully.

"I'm willing to try" she said, feeling adventurous.

"Hmmmm. Yes, I'm familiar with the train to Ronda and Bobadilla," Aubrey commented. "But it takes us out of our way, we would have to take another train from Bobadilla Station... not much more than that, you know... to La Roda, then on to Marchena, down to Utrera and on to Puerto Real on the Atlantic Coast."

"Then we'd still have to rent a carriage to take us to Medina. Even if the train fare doesn't faze you, it would be nearly impossible to find a carriage at any of those places along the way, and I'm not even sure there are roads that go to Medina."

"The overall distance by train would be close to 100 kilometers, but we'd have to make connections, and that could take a day or more. Now, while getting a carriage in Puerto Real should be easy, and the road to Medina is about 60 kilometers over reasonably flat terrain, the road from Algeciras takes us up into and over the mountains. That's about 80 kilometers as well. That would take about 16 hours. But we could stop in El Jautor for the night. The pueblo is known for olives and horses."

"As for Mr. Hunnisett's suggestion about taking a ship to Puerto Real, well, I kept an eye out for any passenger ships in the harbor as we approached Algeciras, and I didn't see any. That means we'd either have to wait for one, or take a cargo ship. That I don't recommend."

"As for trying to rent a private boat, not likely to happen, unless the owner, captain and crew came along. If you flash that much money at them, however, they'd probably try to make fish food out of us."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 214):

Grimsby smiled sardonically and remarked, "Any fool who tries to feed me to the fishes is likely to be feeding them himself. But I would prefer to avoid that sort of adventure while traveling with my ward. Since she seems willing to accept Pablo's offer of a carriage, perhaps that will be the best way to travel after all."

Brie looks at Grimsby "Mr St. Claire might be right, we already draw attention as we look Europeans. If we flash a lot of money, we could draw even more attention that we don't want"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 216):

"Yes, as much as I would enjoy another day at sea, I must agree that both the quickest, and easiest, route is going to be through the mountains, directly to Medina-Segovia." Joseph agrees.

"Well then, let us take Capitán Pablo's advice and seek out his cousin Hernando. Perhaps Hernando can not only make us a deal on a cart or wagon, but also get us outfitted with trail horses, as well. Aubrey, you say Pueblo El Jautor is known for its horses? That should be worth the trip, eh Felicity? I tell you, they raise some mighty fine horseflesh, here in Andalusia."

Grimsby commented, "Horses are hardly my specialism, but I know that Spanish horses have been famed for centuries. Those of the party who prefer to ride may do very well, though I suspect the horses used for commercial carriages will be less distinguished."
He nods to Pablo and says "Lead on to your cousin."

Ocean voyages of any length didn't sit particularly well with the American woman. She spent most of it pacing the interior of the boat or standing at the edge, holding the rail tightly. But it left her in a short mood, and she wore her relief to be back on dry land with the subtly one might expect from her. Sighing, dragging the toe of her boot through the ground. But that hadn't left her, quite yet, any less crabby.

Felicity listens to the men bicker and debate the finest way to go, her eyes set to roll right from her head. Flicking the brim of her hat back with a thumb, "So, we settled on a straight line bein' the shortest?" she questions at the end. "Damn trail-riding..." she lets the insult trail away unformed.

"Could'a broke something wild by the time we got this marching tour packed. Joe, you get them to bring us to a stable and I'll pick out some mounts. They must got tack round here somewhere, too, I hear these fellers invented the shit."

Pablo didn't really want to lead the group to Hernando's, but he complies with the request.

It's just up one street a short way and then down another for a slightly longer distance.

The place is not quite a warehouse, nor exactly a barn, but somewhere in between the two. Perhaps it really was meant to be a carriage house, as it has two sets of large double 'barn doors'. A sign painted on the wall above the doors proclaims it as Hernando's Hideaway.

Pablo points to it, and then points to the stables across the street.

"Hernando has carriages, but Senor Cordoba has the horses in his stable," he informs the group. "Remember what I said: tell Hernando I recommended Irizar Coach Company. They have newer carriages, but they are more expensive. Hernando's carriages are more reliable and cost less."

He turns and hurries away so as not to be seen by his cousin.

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 220):

Grimsby says, "I shall see if I can arrange a coach with this Hernando fellow; those of you who prefer to ride may wish to speak to Senor Cordoba." He strides up to one of the carriage house doors and knocks, calling, "Is Hernando there? An English party needs a coach."

"What are you going to look for in the horses?" Catherine asked Felicity curiously. She followed after her guardian.

"Aw, y'know. Normal stuff a girl looks for. Good sense'a humor, fun at parties, seems like they'd get along with my pa," Felicity answers the more delicate woman, a measure of her good humor returning now that they had returned to dry land. She draws her gloves back onto her hands as she starts toward the stables.

Brie walks along with the other 2 woman and grins.  "And here I didn't know western woman dated horses."

Grimsby continues knocking harder and calling louder, trying to get some response from Hernando. Thinking it might provoke Hernando to answer, he tries announcing quite loudly,
"Perhaps we should have taken that fellow Pablo's advice and gone to the Irizar Company instead."

Catherine giggles at Felicity's joke. "Well, I have met a fellow or two that was less fun at parties than a horse would be."

"Yes, I hear he has the newest carriages in town. You know how important it is for a fashionable lady to be up to date" she says to Grimsby loud enough to be overheard, playing along.

Grimsby nods encouragingly at Catherine's reply. He responds "Only the best for you, dear ward. If this fellow does not answer soon, we must be off to Irizar."

She looks at Grimsby "I would agree if we don't get an answer soon, we should move on"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 228):

Joseph steps over next to Grimsby and, with a placid look upon his face, reaches out to open the carriage house door.

"Maybe they're just busy, inside." Joseph offers, as he tries the latch, "Or, maybe they are taking siesta."

---

OOC: does the door open? I realize it's one half of a larger door, so...

Grimsby remarks "Ah, the American man of action!" and moves over to peer in the door if Joseph is able to open it.

The door opens easily. There's no lock, so it probably gets secured by a bar across the inside. It opens outward.

With the door open, it's not so much dark inside as it just appears so due to the difference in light intensity between the sunny outside and the unlit inside.

"Si, si, senors," a voice comes from out of the darkness.

A moment later a man comes into view.

"I am Hernando. I have carriages to rent... or sell... to rich Englishmen."

"Please, come in, come in! Do you have your own horses and driver? Where do you wish to go? I have three carriages available. There's a gharry, if you wish something fancy. Or durable I have... a road coach. And then there's the hackney for running about town."

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 231):

Grimsby enters and looks about, saying, "Thank you, Hernando. I should think we would want the road coach, though we should look at all the carriages before making a choice. We will certainly need horses, and while I expect some of us could drive in a pinch, a local driver who knew the roads would probably be best, if he does not expect an extravagant reward. We may be English, but we expect to pay a reasonable fee."He turns to Catherine and says, "See if you think one of these carriages would suit you, my dear ward."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Sun 15 Oct 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 232):

As Catherine looks over the available transport, Joseph sidles up next to Grimsby and gestures him aside for a moment of quiet consultation.

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 233):

Grimsby replied quietly, "I appreciate your concern for my ward, but I assure you I was intending to share the coach with her. I might be able to ride a gashant, but I have no special desire to ride an earthly horse, especially  if it would mean leaving my ward unprotected.I do not know Mr. St.Clare's or Miss O'Malley's plans, but as far as I am concerned, they are welcome to share the coach if it has room."

At the Cordoba stables, Felicity and Brie find that Cordoba is Marina Cordoba, and she has a dozen horses in the stable. Most of them appear to be Arabian, but there's one Appaloosa and one palomino.

"Greetings, Senoritas," she says and introduces herself.

"I saw you arrive with the senors, who are looking for a carriage from Hernando. You wish to have horses, si? Unless you have an urgency and need to be somewhere fast, you will only need two horses to pull the carriage, even the big one."

"They cost only 12,000 pesetas, but I return half when you bring horses back."

"If you need a coachman, ask Hernando for Mateo. He knows the horses better than anyone else."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:06, Mon 16 Oct 2017.

Cathrine looks over the carriages with more of an eye for what looks nice and fashionable than what is the best vehicle. "I think.... this one. If that's all right, cousin." she says, picking a likely carriage.

The gharry is the fanciest of the carriages, white with red trim. It is used as a cab in India, but it doesn't have any cargo space, except on the roof.

The road coach is the English equivalent of the American stagecoach, but doesn't have the worn, rugged look of a stagecoach. It has a boot for putting luggage, and a rack on the top for larger luggage, like steamer trunks.

The hackney is the typical London cab, black, two seats. It's reasonably rugged as it travels over the cobblestoned roads of the city. There's some room for luggage, but not as much as the road coach.

"12,000 pesetas? How the hell much is that in money?" Felicity asks, looking around for someone to provide her with some sort of answer. She sighs, having a frustrating day. "How's about you just take me to the horses? You got tack and saddles on loan, or just coaches? Got-damn! Joe?!"

She looks around, picking out the other American, "Didn't I offer you twenty dollars to deal with this shit?"

Brie looks at Felicity "You pick the horses, I will make the deal. I just don't much about horses." she says with a smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:10, Thu 19 Oct 2017.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 236):

Grimsby looks at the carriages a bit doubtfully and says, "Do you mean the gharry --the red and white one? It is the best looking, but it does not have much room for luggage."

Catherine looks embarrassed, suddenly aware that she has made the wrong choice. "Oh, I suppose I'm being foolish. I wouldn't want to be without my things." She points towards the Hackney. "I suppose that should be fine. Unless you'd like to bring some things as well."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 241):

Grimsby replies more cheerfully, "If only the two of us are travelling by coach, the hackney should do very well. I believe that Mr. Hunnisett and the two other ladies are riding horses.
The only remaining question is whether Mr. St.Claire will be in the coach."

"Yes, I'd prefer to ride in the coach," Aubrey responds. "Any Englishman worth his salt knows how to ride, of course, but I just never took to it like my peers did. I suppose it's hard to carry on an intelligent conversation while riding. Certainly not with the horse."

"Now, the hackney is a four-person cab, the kind you'd find in the streets of London or Paris. I'm thinking the road coach might be a bit sturdier. Carries more luggage. I have my trunk and luggage, you know."

"I should not relish putting the steamer trunk, with all my apparatus, up on the top. Should it fall or the coach roll over, most of it would be destroyed. In the back, it might survive. In any case, there is nothing breakable in my luggage."

"We are going to a backwater town in the middle of Spain. Unless you wish to dress like a Spaniard, there will not be much choice in clothing. Naturally, we can 'rough it', as you Americans say, until we return to Algeciras, or wherever, but it is not something I look forward to."

"Pardon my asking, Senors, but where do you wish to go with the carriage, and how long will you be gone?" Hernando asks. "Will you need a coachman?"

"I will sell you the carriage if that is what you wish, but I also can rent the carriage to  you."

"The gharry is 700 pounds, the road coach is 600 pounds, and the hackney is 550 pounds, if the price makes any difference."

"Ah, I see," Marina says. "Some of you wish to ride! So how many will need horses?"

"Individually, one of my riding horses is 35 pounds, but that comes with tack and harness, and a saddle and saddle blanket. I usually include saddle bags with a week's worth of feed for the horse."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 243):

Grimsby replies, "I would be quite willing to take the road coach, if that is acceptable to my ward. With three of us in the coach, it might be more comfortable." He looks inquiringly at Catherine.

In reply to Hernando Perales (msg # 244):

Grimsby answers, "We are planning to travel to Medina-Sidonia. I doubt our stay there will be very long, but I do not know where we would be going from there. It might depend on what we learn there. A coachman accustomed to the local roads might be useful. Whether we would be renting or buying might depend on how much renting would cost and how long we might keep the coach if we rented it.'

Brie looks at Marina "That would be acceptable. I am sure these people would find it acceptable."

She looks at the American's "I think this is a good deal for here, 35 pounds with all of the gear and a week of food. I would need to have my cost covered, I am a little short right now."

"To be honest, senor," Hernando replies to Grimsby, "I expect to earn 600 pounds a year for a carriage rental. It is paid for in one year, and thereafter it is my livelihood."

"So, I would rent a carriage for 5 pounds a month, or about 3 shillings a day. I would ask for a deposit of 50 pounds."

"You would need to pay the coachman yourself. Mateo is currently available, and he was born in Medina-Sidonia. He requires one shilling per day."

"Also, I do not have horses. You must get them across the street."

In reply to Hernando Perales (msg # 249):

Grmsby responds, "Very well, we will take the carriage with the 50 pound deposit. I doubt we will need it for as much as a month, but since I am uncertain just how long we will need it, I could pay you the 5 pounds now, with the understanding that you would refund some of it if we return the coach earlier. I presume British coins will be acceptable. We will also employ Mateo as the coachman. I will speak to the people across the street about horses." He offers the payment described to Hernando.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:14, Sat 21 Oct 2017.

Felicity has no problem telling the horses are of good quality. They seem to be a little bit high-bred to be good cattle horses, but these appear to be bred and trained as military saddle horses as well as service horses, such as pulling wagons. They aren't quite large enough to be plow horses, and the day of the battlefield war horse has pretty much passed.

She's learned that the typical mustang of the West was pretty much a feral crossbreed between Andalusian and Arabian horses. And while cowboys originated in Spain, cattle ranching didn't quite operate the way it did in Texas. For one thing, the distances involved weren't that great, and the ever-expanding rail system in continental Europe put stations within fairly close distances from the cattle-grazing lands. Even police and military forces were close enough at hand that cattle-rustling was more of a rarity.

Though she knew her way around a horse, Felicity had neither the skills nor the inclination to haggle. After seeing the horses were fine stock, she quickly readied a handful from her roll of bills. Licking her thumb before counting them out on a fence-post in front of Marina. "That's for four. Two for riding, two for hauling. Might come back for another team, depending how I end up feeling 'bout the state of our luggage. Now, you get busy preppin' them, get a few days feed, too. I like the look of this one here, so he and I are gonna get acquainted while you do."

It seems like only a moment later that Felicty is mounted, and her new Andalusian, are jumping the fence of the enclosure. Smile on her lips, Felicity races at a full gallop, only to pull her steed back to a quick trot by the time they're weaving through buildings in town. In not long, she's pulling children from the street to give them rides to wherever they pretend they need to go.

Brie mounts the other horse and rides it around. She gets use to it but doesn't ride as crazy as Felicity. "Felicity, I got us a week of food for the horses. So don't worry about that"

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 252):

Grimsby arrives as Felicity is paying for the horse and says, "I am not certain whether your "hauling" horses are intended for the carriage or for a separate cart for your own use, Miss Van Horn,but if they will be pulling the carriage my ward and I will be riding in, perhaps it would be fairer if I contributed most of their cost."

Catherine shifts slightly, fiddling with her skirt. Both her first and second choices were wrong, and it brings home to her for the moment how little she knows about the world. But she brightens quickly. Even in mourning, she is a cheerful girl. "Yes, it's acceptable to me. I'm glad this all worked out."

She examines the road coach "I guess this will be home for a few days."

She applauds gently on seeing Felicity's performance on horseback. "Goodness, miss Felicity, that's quite something. I haven't really seen a lady ride astride, let alone so well."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 255):

Grimsby responds to Catherine, "I hope you will find this comfortable, even though it was not what you might have chosen for yourself. Sometimes when traveling one must make the best of what one can find."
Eyeing Felicity's leaping horse less enthusiastically than his ward, he simply says "Miss Horn is certainly a remarkable rider. But at least she seems to be kind to the children."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Tue 31 Oct 2017.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 256):

OOC: Huh. I thought I posted this already. Hmm. Maybe one too many Happy Pills...


The wagon rental handled, Joseph wanders across the street to see to getting himself a mount. He quickly sees that Felicity has found herself an Appaloosa.

~Leave it to Felicity to find an American horse breed in the south of Spain.~ Joseph thought in amusement, as he entered the stable and looked around.

~By God! They're all Arabians! Only in Spain...~

Joseph set about finding himself a suitable mount - preferably black.

"I'm sure it will be comfortable enough. Anyways, even if it isn't, good company makes all the difference, and we have that." Catherine replied. "I just hope I don't cause too much trouble. Everyone else seems used to this sort of thing."

Grimsby smiles more kindly than usual at Catherine and says, "I assure you from my experience that if you are traveling in good company, you are likely to learn quickly to enjoy it. I know you come from sturdy stock, and I am confident you will adjust to adventuring as well as I have."

As Joseph selects a black horse, he is told the horse's name is Fantasma Negra.

It is only Joseph's experiences in other lands that he's learned the Arabian is the most popular horse in the world. In the States, it's more popular in the east than it is in the west, but that's mostly due to cost and training. It takes more work to train an Arabian for the range than it does a mustang. The quarter horse is used for racing, while the Arabian is used for riding and casual work-related tasks.

Joseph doubts he'd used the Arabian for herding, but it should do superbly here in Iberian where it was bred to live and work.

Brie continues to ride around. "Mr. Hunnisett, the gentlemen here selling the horse's made us a wonderful deal" she tries to get the same deal for him.

"I ain't gonna say no to your money, if that's how you wanna spend it down," was the last thing Felicity said before shooting off on her horse to romp around for some time.

When the fun had finally gone from galloping up and down the street, depositing children in random stops and snatching anything that got to close only to bring it back a few minutes later, Felicity pulled her mount to a stop near the little group again. She lifts her leg casually over her horse, hopping down to her feet with ease. Smiling, positively moseying back to them.

"Alright. Who's ready to get out of town. I figure, we leave in the next couple hours still time to get out of sight a' city lights before the sun gets anywhere near down."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 262):

Grimsby replies, "I assure you I will be very happy to pay whatever you feel will be a fair share of the cost for the horses to pull our coach."

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 263):

"Why thank you, Miss Brie. I rightly appreciate the effort." Joseph responds, saddling up Fantasma Negra.

"Sturdy?" Cathrine repeats, a little puzzled. It wasn't exactly a compliment to a well-bred young lady.

"Yes, we should soon be ready to depart, miss Felicity."

Out of curiosity, she enquires of Marina whether sidesaddles are available.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 265):

Realizing that his inexperience with well-bred young ladies had led him into error, Grimsby hastily replied, "I merely meant that I believed anyone of our family should have the mettle to face the perils of adventure. 'Sturdy' was not intended as an, um, personal observation."

There are no sidesaddles available, unfortunately. Marina doesn't know where to get one, but she tells Catherine that one might be found somewhere in Algeciras.

Otherwise, the horses are led across the street and hitched up to the wagon.

Another fifteen minutes sees the luggage loaded onto the carriage.

Aubrey, Catherine and Grimsby will ride in the carriage.

Joseph, Brie and Felicity will be riding horseback.

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 267):

Once everyone is ready, Grimsby hands Catherine into the coach and tells Mateo "We are off to Medinia Sidonia" as soon as Aubrey has joined them.

Catherine smiles at Grimsby. "Off to solve a mystery." she says cheerfully. She watches the countryside as it rolls past, curious about the makeup of Spain. Eventually, the carriage ride might bore her, but certainly not yet. She chats amiably with the other two about nothing in particular. With the recent tragedy, she does not want to be alone with her thoughts.

Brie will ride along with the Americans, looking at the country side.

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 269):

Grimsby joins Catherine in light conversation, knowing she needs distraction from her sad loss. Occasionally he remarks on similarities between southern Spain and the arid plains of Mars.

Catherine listens eagerly to anything Grimsby says of Mars. "The locals are probably more friendly here, though" she jokes.

Felicity rides at the front of the procession, tall in her saddle. It was good to be on the trail again. Whistling her way down the roads, even as she kept up a more than gentle pace.

You take the north road out of Algeciras which is easy enough to find even without asking directions. The road is reasonably maintained, but it is not paved. It is mostly packed dirt and pebbles, but you come across one section that is corduroy. Apparently that particular area is subject to being washed out from the rains.

You managed to leave just a little past midday, and Felicity sets a somewhat fast pace, perhaps prompted by Aubrey's assertion that they should be able to reach El Jauntor before nightfall.

Almost surprisingly, you don't encounter anyone on the road. It is not a frequently traveled route, except for the inhabitants of El Jautor that come down to Algeciras for supplies.

A little past midday, the horses need a break, and no doubt the people could use a bite to eat.

(ooc- any watering holes or places to take a break?)

There are a number of streams that you pass by or over via bridges, so that's not a problem.

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 276):

Joseph pulls Fantasma Negra back alongside the carriage, and calls over to Mateo, the coachman.

[In Spanish*] "Mi amigo, ¿hay un buen lugar donde podamos parar a almorzar y descansar los caballos?"

---

OOC: "My friend, is there a good place where we can stop for lunch and rest the horses?"

Grimsby is no great master of Spanish,but he catches the general drift of Joseph's question and remarks to Catherine, "Would you enjoy a little rest, my dear, and perhaps a light meal? I know you are not as accustomed to travel as the rest of us, and I do not mean to tire you."

"I think the horses and us need a drink and to stretch our legs"

"Yes please, that would be agreeable." Catherine says. She waves to Joseph as he rides back towards them. "Goodness, it's rather lonely here. We haven't passed a single soul."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 280):

Grimsby remarks, "Parts of Spain are nearly as desolate as the inter-canal wastes of Mars, though of course there are also bustling cities like Barcelona." If Mateo finds a suitable stopping point, Grimsby descends and hands Catherine out of the coach, and then asks Aubrey "Would you like to join us out here, Mr. St. Claire? Some fresh air may do you good.

"Yes, I think I shall stretch my legs as well," Aubrey replies.

"Coach travel is almost an uncivilized way to travel. I much prefer a train or a modern steam liner. You can always get up and walk around on either of them. The sites are usually better, too."

"Of course, we aren't really taking the scenic route here in Spain."

He climbs out of the coach, stepping down to the road, using his walking stick to help maintain his balance.

"Not an unpleasant country, I suppose. The Spaniards have lived here for over two thousand years, so there must be something to be said for it, though the populated areas are along the coast, so you have the sea and the ocean."

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 282):

Grimsby responded, "Yes, there are some quite interesting ancient cities on the coast. Cadiz is said to have been founded by the Phoenicians, I believe. These dry inland regions have less to offer the antiquary. But they do at least offer us an chance for rest and refreshment. Shall we break out the stores and have a light meal? He walked back to the carriage and began looking through the baggage in search of food and drink.

Catherine stepped out with Aubrey's assistance. "Oh, I don't know. The well-bred have used carriages for a long time, and I found steamships a bit difficult." she said. "I wouldn't mind seeing one of those cities, though. Yes, I'd like some food."

She looks at Grimsby as she walks over to the others as her horse drinks. "Yes, it would be fascinating to find one of those ancient cities. Though where we are going will hopefully prove to be interesting.

Grimsby lifted out a promising-looking lunch basket, drew out a tablecloth and spread it over a convenient rock, then proceeded to unpack bread, chicken and fruit, which he set out on plates on his improvised table. While doing so, he remarked, "Our present plans are uncertain until we know more of what transpired in Medina, but if it turns out that our findings permit  a return to the coast, I would be glad to arrange a brief tour of Cadiz, assuming we had the time for such an excursion. It may be, however, that what we learn of these strange events in Medina will summon us elsewhere in haste. Who knows?" 

"Yes, Cadiz has a long history," Aubrey spoke up. "In fact, it is the oldest European city still standing! Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Visigoths, Moors, Castillians, the English... they've all claimed Cadiz at one point or another. Fortunately, the French never took the city."

"In the last century, it became a great cosmopolitan city for Spain, and was home for trading communities from many countries, the richest of which were the Irish."

"I've been there, of course. Explored many of the old ruins and new buildings. A lot of trade from America goes through there, though it's been declining in recent years."

While Grimsby had grabbed the lunch basket, Aubrey grabbed the wine basket. He extracted glasses from it, and two bottles of wine.

"Anyone else care for some wine?" he asked.

When Felicity returned from scouting ahead with a look of bafflement. Her hat tipped back on her head, still mounted up. Looking over the entire little party as they broke out picnic gear and tableware with her brow furrowed and jaw open.

"I... What the hell is going on? I thought we was headin' to actually see the damned city and finish jawin' 'bout it there? What the hell are all y'all doin'?" she asked, still in the saddle. "Y'all paid to roll a dining room through all a Spain, least you could do is eat in it!" pointing toward the now unoccupied carriage at the roadside.

Felicity's scouting hadn't turned up anything interesting. It was a little used road. The only way bandits were likely to be encountered is if they knew in advance that you were going this way, and had ridden out ahead of you to wait in ambush.

On the other hand, there are enough of you to probably discourage most bandits.

Felicity did spot a lake off in the distance... to the east.

And some farms and orchards to the west, and probably on the other side of the lake.

Brie walks over to Aubrey "Oh, I will have some wine sir"

She looks at Felicity and figures she is not use to English ways. She figured they would all get use to one another.

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 290):

Joseph first sees to his own Fantasma Negra, then aids Mateo in caring for the carriage horses - joining the others just about the same time Felicity returns.

"Now Miss Felicity," Joseph says, removing his wear-worn leather hat, with the right side pinned up by a colorful green-white-red cockade, and running his fingers through his dark hair, "I know you've ridden in a stagecoach, back in Texas, and don't go deny'in it. That carriage, there, ain't but much more than a stagecoach, in design. It ain't all that fancy."

"Besides, it's a fine day, there's no need to push the horses all that hard. And there ain't no Comanche's scurry'in around to worry about. Relax, Gal, and enjoy the day; have a drink and something to eat."

Joseph grabbed himself a chicken leg and settled on the grass, near the stone-turned-table.

"uh, Miss Brie?" Joseph says around a bite of chicken, then quickly swallows, "Beg your pardon. But, ah, I believe you said you'd like to see some of the local ruins? As Aubrey said, this part of Spain has been lived in since before Roman times. Now, if I'm not mistaken..." Joseph gestures with the chicken leg at a stone next to where Brie is standing,

"That weathered hunk of limestone right next to you is a piece of a fluted column - possibly from a Roman Villa or a Moorish Ksar. And there looks to be plenty more, just off, behind you." Joseph smiled and brought the chicken leg up to his mouth,

"You said you wanted to see a ruin? Well, you're standing in one, right now." he said, before taking a bite of his food.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:48, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

Grimsby looks up sharply at Joseph's words, and says emphatically, "A very good point, Mr. Hunnisett. If I had not been so occupied with luncheon, I should have noticed it myself. That column definitely looks to be Roman, though of course it might well have been reused by  Moorish or Christian builders in later times." Leaving his lunch half-eaten, he leaps to his feet and begins examining the surrounding stones with a practiced eye.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 292):

Joseph swallowed the last of his chicken leg and threw the bone out into the brush,

"Well, we're only a half-day out of the city," Joseph says, "more than likely, whatever was here, long ago, was a villa, or a ksar if it was the Moors. Same thing, really. It would be a plantation where livestock was raised and fields were cultivated, all to feed the needs of the port city. Some city nobleman's working country estate, if you will."

"And this close to the city, along the road to the next largest town in the area, this place has probably been picked over for centuries; leaving only a few tumbled down stones to show anything ever was here."

Brie looks at Joseph "Really?" she says excited as she looks closer at the stone "I have to admit, I was thinking of something more intact, like part of a building, not just a block. But what else might be around here?" she walks around looking for other stones. She eats some chicken as she does. "So will there be more in the city?"

Catherine has a little lunch. She's a taken aback by Felicity's language. Goodness, American ladies are different.

She springs up when Joseph points out the ruins, looking at the area around her she hadn't really noticed with new appreciation. "Wow! When I'm travelling, there always seems to be something interesting about if I know where to look."

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 294):

Grimsby remarks, "If Medina is like most old cities, it may actually be easier to find ancient remains out here than in the center of the city  - the central settlements tend to be rebuilt over and over, so fewer of the older buildings are likely to be visible on the surface, unless they are so large and important as to have been preserved more-or-less intact, like cathedrals or citadels."

She looks at Grimsby "Sound like you have to go under the city then. The underworld types probably know where entrances are"

In reply to Brie O'Malley (msg # 297):

Grimsby replies cautiously, "Certainly on Mars, there are layers of ruins beneath the surface, and some are known to criminals or fanatics like the Cult of the Worm. Spain is not known for cultists, I am glad to say, but it still has a fair number of bandits and Gypsies, and I would hesitate to take a party including ladies into what might turn  out to be a lair of outlaws."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:31, Sat 02 Dec 2017.

"Interesting observation, Grimsby," Aubrey said before addressing Felicity.

"I daresay you are used to constant action, Felicity, if tales of your West are to be believed," he tells her.

"While it is not a hot day, it would feel hotter in the carriage as long as it wasn't in motion. So we chose to have our lunch out here, as it also gave us a chance to stretch our legs."

"Riding horseback isn't for everyone. I am sure there are many people where you are from that can't ride... or at least don't do it very often. Had there been some great urgency, we would have pushed on, regardless of what it did to the horses."

"We will still make Jautor before nightfall, but I don't believe we could have made Sidonia before midnight even if we'd run the horses into the ground. Besides, as reasonably well maintained as this road is, it would not have been prudent to travel at night."

If anyone climbs up on the taller rock in the area, you can see the outline of buildings amid the rocks. It seems unlikely that it could have just crumbled away like that, so it was probably as Joseph said--torn down for the stone, though there's no evidence of where it went.

From the ground, the pattern isn't obvious unless you were probably excavating it. The fact that there's nothing around it indicates there was no significant historical value to the place, thus no reason to visit it. It was probably razed long before anyone thought to explore it as ruins.

If Brie or Catherine want a souvenir, they can find a small piece of stone that has some letters carved into it, probably from the architrave, indicating either it was carefully lowered to the ground or else it was dropped and shattered.

After lunch, everyone gets back into the carriage, and you are on your way again.


The rest of the day progresses uneventfully, and you reach El Jautor late in the afternoon. The road actually skirts the northeast side of the town, requiring you to turn off to get into El Jautor proper, though there's not much there.