In Which Things Become Quite Vulgar

Personal Journal Entry
24 July

Since it had been an exceedingly long week dealing with complex problems associated with several of my senior staff members’ cases at MI-6 , I was happy to once again be in my private chambers at home.  It had been more than a week since I had been at home. The cases required me to travel a good bit.  Cairine kindly directed the staff to manage my luggage and then helped me out of my expedition travel gear and into a very hot bath.  As I slipped into the water she poured a small amount of my favorite sandlewood bath oil into the tub then placed a table and lamp nearby so that I might read some of the week’s post while I soaked.

I was happy to discover some lovely invitations to summer balls and garden parties in the stack.  What a pleasure also to find correspondence from several friends travelling abroad.  I was, however, shocked out of my steamy, relaxed, and happy mood when I picked up the next envelope which contained the seal of Barken Roff, a former ambassador from Vulgaria. Roff! the very blaggard who nearly five years ago had done his best to shock all in attendance at the ball celebrating the opening of my manse on Loch Avie with his vulgar language and poor behavior.  He had only been invited as he was newly in his diplomatic position in Caledon. How much I regret that decision.  It was shortly after that night that he began to claim that Loch Avie was “stolen from Vulgaria” and that the bones, which my knight, Adso Krogstad, was excavating in the lower portion of Loch Avie, would be revealed as ancient Vulgarians.  The nerve of the man!

I broke the seal to the letter.

15 July

Bomhaus

Prydon, Vulgaria

To Her Grace, Eva Bellambi,

Duchess of Loch Avie, Lady of Skye, Head of MI-6, Last Pretender to the Lands of Vulgaria,

Your Grace, this will be the last cordial correspondence you shall have from me or any other Vulgarian. The humiliation at the hands of the Bellambis and Frasers has been more than can be born. It has taken us some time to develop the technology required, but we have done it.  We have developed the ability to travel to a particular area and then travel great distances through time.  

We are coming, Your Grace.  We are coming in great numbers.  We are coming to claim the lands you have left in Caledon, and we are coming to take the Isle of Skye.  Our Vulgarian historians tell us that your family, as far back as Sìleas and Gawter, have wronged us over the years. We claim Skye and all that is currently yours.

We are coming.  We are going to torture you slowly in ways women can never survive, kill your kinsmen and clan, and destroy your lands. We will then travel back to your middle ages and we will slaughter Sìleas and Gawter.* Your family will end.  You will never exist.

Barken Roff

Lord High Chancellor, Vulgaria

Cairine gasped loudly upon her return to find me (unknowingly) standing in the tub holding the letter down at my side.  I was red-faced, frowning, and stark naked.  Her noise roused me enough to spring me into action.  

“Cairine.  Assist me out of this tub and I’ll dry myself.  Then I need you to set the emergency signals in motion.  Agent Barns should be in the MI-6 signal station, just give him the word.  I need to gather the clan and my knights.  Then I shall need to be properly dressed so that at first light I may make emergency calls upon Miss Serra, Admiral Beaumont, Desmond Shang, and several others.”

As Cairine walked rapidly down the stairs from the master suite I called after her, “Sir Tele, Somme, and O’Toole are going to be bloody hard to find.  Make sure Barns sends his messages accordingly.  Those lot have gone far afield - some in semi-retirement - but they must know their Cheiftainess has need of them and they must come!”

Cairine shouted back an acknowledgement and then I heard the door to the intel room open and close.

“...or she may never even be known to them.”

To be continued

*(Historical notes on Sìleas and Gawter may be found in these posts : Dream State, Time and Space Fold, & A Love Letter from Gawter to Sìleas)

Even Wandering Knights Find The Way Home

- More Often Than One Might Think

As has long been my custom, I was walking the perimeter of the Isle again this week.  Perhaps I was simply taking in the winter-tide glory around me.  Perhaps I was making a security sweep prior to the Snowflake Ball.  Most likely it was a little of both.  The habits of a woman trained as a warrior duchess and an intelligence operative are as strong as her romantic & beauty-seeking heart.

Something caught my eye near the edge of the water on the south end of the island.  Upon closer inspection I discovered an arrow fletching in Sir Tele's colors.  I grasped the feathering just as a small wave attempted to take it out into the deeper channel - a smile beginning to form on my lips.  Telemachus Dean is extremely mindful of allowing his presence to be known.  This fletching would not be here, were he not wanting me to know he had been here.  It is not uncommon for me to find messages from him somewhere on the property letting me know that he has passed through Isle of Skye, ensuring my safety and that of the clan even as he moves on to another foreign adventure.

"Fair winds, dear Knight,"  I whispered into the fletching as I climbed back up the rocky pathway on my way to the house.

Snow began to fall again just as I reached the doorway.  I placed his arrow's feathers on the desk in my private offices, changed out of my hiking gear, and headed back out to prepare the grounds for the ball.  I was just using the steam crane to lift the ice chandelier into place over the dancing area, when I sensed something watching me.  A presence nearing.

I did not have Claidheamh Flath, the sword of my forebears - the Sword of the Chief, with me since I was merely working in the yard.  I mumbled curses under my breath as I felt the presence growing closer.  The hair on my arms and the back of my neck began to prickle madly.  Thankfully I recalled that I had been working on the steam crane a bit earlier in the morning and had left the large wrench laying nearby.  I grasped the wrench in both hands as I knelt down.  I rapidly stood and deftly swung the wrench around at chest level.

Clank!!

I struck a very large claymore and looked up to see Sir Tele grinning down at me.

"I see ye've kept up your swordplay and defense practice, Your Grace."

I'm sure I stood momentarily with my mouth agape as the truth of him sunk in.  "Och! ye great, bloody man!  Sneaking up on me like that!!"

His smile widened and he dropped his sword.  At that, I promptly whacked him in the stomach with the wrench, and then gave him a hug.

"I can't stay long, Duchess.  But I could not pass nearby without ensuring that you were well.  When I saw that the preparations were underway for the Snowflake Ball, I knew that I needed to stay to request a dance.  I will not be in the area on the night of the event."

I smiled.  "Ever the gallant, Sir Tele.  Then let us dance while you tell me of your most recent adventures."

We danced for what seemed only a short while before he said he needed to be on his way.  Apparently he had a ship to catch on the high tide.  

It is always bittersweet to have him go off on another quest.  But I always know he will return.

"Fair winds, dear Knight.  Fair winds."

Personal Journal Entry: Battle in New Babbage (reference case # 8774-NB)

**This first section written Out of Character**

The Role Play events developed by the folks in New Babbage have been quite brilliant. Most of the play has occurred out of world in the Ning and in other blogs. Story-telling is an art and the shared story among many of the residents (and those of us related to them) has been very interesting and fun. Kudos to all involved. Various journals have reported on events, however, the bulk of the story may be found in the Primgraph blog and the New Babbage Ning.

I first really became involved in this story when the Wrath Fleet group were asked to assist in the wrap-up of the story. I was sent the telegram verbiage by the New Babbage Navy's Commodore, Jedburg Dagger. I was happy to assist as I could in the role of the head of MI-5, and as Commander in Wrath Navy.

The culminating event - the ironclad battle - was fought this past Thursday evening. Several of us met during the week of the event and plotted out the scenes and familiarized ourselves with the story that would be told....and would continue. (hee hee)

As someone who has run not a few events, and who has assisted with many an ironclad battle scenario, let me just say that this event went really very well, particularly given the numbers of observers and participants, the lag in the script-heavy, texture-heavy sims, and the numbers of folks who were part of story development.

Gathering for the briefing: Dia, Eva, Aeoleus, Hotspur

We all gathered at the docks at 7pm SLT - when I say all, I mean a very large contingent from New Babbage (from both the good and evil sides), a strong group from the Wrath Fleet, Caledon Navy members, Steelhead Navy members, and at least one from Steeltopia's fleet (actually, Mr. Calamari himself). We also had press members there covering the event.

Emperor of Steeltopia and several of the New Babbage group.

Hotspur gives the rules of the engagement to the growing crowd.

Cross section of New Babbage crowd.

The organization of this large group including the rules of engagement and specifics to the scenarios was conducted in about 30 minutes, and then the first of two mammoth battles was begun. There were about 8-10 boats (ironclads and subs) in the water, a battery of cannon at Dr. O's island, and several airships about the sims. Each battle lasted around 20-30 minutes.

Yes, there were many crashes among players. Yes, sometimes folks steamed off world for a while - but they did make it back to the site of the battle. In the end, I heard no complaints at all only folks really hamming it up in character and discussing how fun the thing had been despite the limitations or problems.

A lot of fun, really!

**And now my in character journal entry (with the odd way that stories and roles in the Steamlands can be combined, I write it not only as the head of intel for Wrath Fleet, but also as Director of MI-5).**

Personal Entry
This allied flotilla came into the Vernian Sea as the sun was beginning to show first rays over the horizon. We had our orders from Commodore O'Toole and Mayor Tenk. I was in one of the Holland class subs. My objective was to sneak into the city while the battle raged and to bring a small group of marines with me. We had several purposes: the marines were to secure any anti-ship guns, and to capture or dispose of any of Obolensky's minions; I was to be in contact with them via ætheric transmitter - guiding Master Sergeant Abernethy as needed, but the crusty old marine would hardly need me, he had his orders directly from O'Toole and would follow them (perhaps creatively) to complete his mission or die trying. Meanwhile, I would also be surveying the area for the strong-holds (perhaps Obolensky, himself), and the resistance fighters, and maintain communication with command central.

The sub departs after dropping us at the designated point.

It did not take long to spot the Doctor's cannon (they were not trying to hide them, really)
Regardless I transmitted the position to the fleet and marines via secure channel.


My initial view of the beginning of the engagement
A dragon perched atop an airship - was that a good or ominous sign?

More of Obolensky's followers found (or just some of the residents watching the show - it was not always clear, nevertheless). Positions sent to Abernethy and command.

*must be getting closer*

I found where the villain was on his island at about the time I heard chatter on the allied fleet's channel about it.

I spotted Dr. Fabre observing the battle as I moved through the area.


The battle raging on

*note to self: interrupted by a call from the Royal Society offices, must go and return to complete my personal note on this incident later - pick up journal entry at battle conclusion*

My Knight Protector Sends a Message

Sir Telemachus - though out of the region on explorations - is still in contact. After I sent a message about some griefing that has taken place on my lands to the Knights of the Red Rose and officers of the Lancers of Skye, and my clan, I received a letter bearing his seal.

This morning when I awoke, I found a copy of the letter tacked at the door giving notice to those who might harm me.

Thank you, Sir Tele.