Patchwork Universe

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

As the small party walked towards the ship, DeRainault considered her options. Obviously, there was something strange going on here – the landmasses to the north, south, and east having mysteriously appeared overnight, the strange characters washing ashore on the island, like something out of a storybook. Had they still been in the Caribbean, she would have thought they’d blundered into the notorious Triangle; had it been Africa, she would have suspected a dreaming fever of some kind – that was a thought, perhaps she’d ask the Doctor if the water or fruit from the island could be adulterated in some way. In the meantime, best to play along, and see if these men or figments had any information.

When they reached the boat, she gestured for the two strangers to seat themselves in the stern. She settled comfortably in the bow, still deep in thought. The marines obediently filed into their places, and the sailors took to their oars. As the boat drew close to the larger vessel, its wooden hulls loomed menacingly, the many ports in the gun deck indicating that this was a warship, ready for battle. Sailors hung off the sides, scraping barnacles, making their way through the miles of rigging, and up and down the three masts. The breeze could be heard rippling through the canvas, and the toll of a bell could be heard, just faintly. To the untrained eye, it must seem a massive tangle, but to the Captain’s familiar gaze, she was a trim and pretty frigate – more than that, she was home.

As the boat pulled along side, the piping of the Boatswain’s whistle could be heard, along with the cry of “Captain on deck!” DeRainault swung up the ladder with practiced ease, followed by the marines, who had to help the two strangers clamber awkwardly onto the deck. By the time they had done so, the Captain was already giving orders to her officers.

“Lieutenant Stafford, this is one of our visitors, Mr. L’Iason, who will be joining me in the great cabin for dinner – in about an hour, I should think. He is, however, somewhat the worse for wear after encountering the Pacific Ocean, and perhaps you might be willing to lend him some dry clothes for a few hours.” Lieutenant William Stafford, a tall but otherwise nondescript man in his mid-twenties, nodded. “Aye, ma’am, we’ve just rung six bells. And, Samuels begs me to tell you we’ll be having lobscouse, but your claret is breathing nicely. If you’ll come with me, sir…” Stafford gestured to the stairs leading below deck.

“Excellent! The Doctor should be returning shortly, and with any luck she’ll be bringing some soft tack, along with beer for the crew.” A pleased murmur went around the deck at this news. “Ah, yes, Quickgrip.” Casting a critical eye on the ragged clothing and untidy appearance of the second man, the Captain continued. “You may feel a bit out of place in the great cabin, so perhaps we can just send you a plate from the galley…”

“Begging the Captain’s permission, ‘e can mess with us.” Chastity “Chas” Michaels, Carpenter’s Mate spoke up, nodding at the newcomer. “Well, Michaels, if that is what you wish. Perhaps you can see him some slops until his, er, raiment has dried.” Michaels, a cheerful redhead in her late-thirties, waved the man over. “Right, lad, with me.”

“Well, that’s done – in the meantime, I have some work to do. Lieutenant Erickson, the deck is yours, I’ll be in my cabin attending to the log. Oh, and ask Samuels to bring me some coffee, if you would.” And with that, the Captain was gone.

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

From the Personal Log of Captain Isobel Anne DeRainault, February 2, 17--

Events grow stranger and stranger. After encountering a mysterious landmass not even a league north of here, in what should have been empty sea, my morning has been further complicated by the arrival of two strangers, both washed up on the beach. Moahu is, or was an uninhabited island, so this appearance is all the more puzzling, as is the fact that both are strangely dressed and clearly foreign, although neither claims to be from any known nation or peoples. I am concerned that we have entered some kind of haunted zone of the kind sailors speak of, although I can hardly believe such – or perhaps more feasibly, that the crew have consumed some sort of intoxicating substance in the water or fruit from the Island of Moahu. In any case, the Doctor is due to return from the northern landmass shortly, and I will be speaking further with our two visitors.

***

Despite everything that was going on, Isobel was just about managing to keep up with the daily business of the ship, receiving reports and examining the logs, as well as reviewing and reckoning the various accounts. The coffee helped, of course. Draining her last cup, she was just putting away her personal log when there was a knock on the door. “Come.”

Looking up, she saw Stafford. “I’ve brought our guest, ma’am, as you’d requested.” The Captain stood up, and walked over to the sideboard. “Of course, bring him in.” Setting out a few glasses, she deftly uncorked the second bottle of wine brought from Jones’ that morning. “Mr. L’Iason! Do come in and sit down. Will you have a glass of something before dinner? I believe,” she said, holding up the greenish white bottle “that this is a Rheinish wine of some sort, although I am not sure. I only got it at the public house this morning. In any case,” she continued “I was hoping to ask you for a few more details about your homeland, and this place called the Imperial Foundry that you claim to come from. If I am not mistaken, it is to the east of here, is it not? Just what were you expecting to find when you came this way?”

liason · Posted: 05 Feb 2004 10:33 am Post subject:

"Thankyou Captain, I should very much welcome a glass of wine."

Liason sipped from the glass. In truth he had no idea whether this was a good wine or not by the standards of this place. Indeed, he had little experience of fine wines generally. But in his line of work it would be a necessary skill and so he watched the Captain's expression closely as she tasted it and in the meantime occupied himself with replying to her questions.

"If you will excuse a rather long answer, Captain, I shall begin with a little history. In the year 713 past the Eclipse an unpleasant war was fought between four of the strongest Lords of the Heartlands. As is the way of such conflicts, two alliances of two quickly formed. Many soldiers died and it would all have been for nothing had not fate intervened. In the final conflict, one of the two victorious Lords fell from his horse and was trampled to death. So it was that the Heartlands came to be ruled by a single man. He was a wise ruler and his domain grew into the Illuminated Empire and his eldest son was the first Emperor."

Liason paused to sip his wine. He decided he did rather like it and nodded approvingly.

"The Illuminated Empire grew across many generations until it came to encompass more than 40 of the surrounding countries. In the West it extended beyond the Gansu Forests and the merchant cities there became the Western Province. In the North it reached the floodplain of the Eji and Einu rivers. The Philosopher Kings there were quick to see the strength of the Empire and the North Province was formed without need for conflict. In the East, Imperial settlers cleared much of the deep Jungle and brought civilization to many of the tribes there, who became the East Province. The Peninsula and the South were more problematic and for decades the Empire alternately fought wars with and traded with both. Finally the South fell and with the Empire's armies no longer divided, the Peninsula fell."

Liason paused again. Fortunately, he still seemed to have the Captain's attention.

"That is all in the distant past now. Not more than a generation ago, however, the Empire began to have problems. Many of the Provinces had grown in strength and even the Sixth Province - beyond the ocean - was now self-sufficient. So it was that the South Province decided to declare independence from the Empire. I could speak for hours about the wars - though I did not live through them myself. Suffice it to say that the Imperial Foundry was at the heart of the Emperor's strength. The Emperor won the war but at too high a cost and shortly thereafter the Empire disintegrated."

Here, Liason saw, his tale had taken a twist the Captain had not expected.

"In the years that followed, the Imperial Foundry survived independently of the Imperial Court. The unmatched skills of the artisans were offered for sale to whomever could meet the prices asked. So it was that the Foundry became a place of trade and, due to its political neutrality, eventually became a meeting point for diplomatic activities also."

Liason put down his glass and folded his hands in his lap.

"As to my role. Recently, the Foundry has - how shall I put this - moved. In my capacity as Ambassador I have been sent to assess our new surroundings, investigate possibilities for trade and establish contacts useful to the artisans. Though I must admit," Liason finished quietly, "I have been rather surprised by what I have found."

Deciding he had said quite enough, Liason returned his wine to his hand and looked to the Captain for her reactions to his story.

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

After her visitor had finished speaking, Captain DeRainault took a deep draught of wine. It was quite good, really – she’d have to ask the publican what it was, and get another bottle. “I hope you will forgive my surprise, Mr. L’Iason – but your history, as you relate it, is like that of no nation or people I know, and I must tell you, we are familiar with most, here in the Navy. In truth, it’s more like a children’s story, or one of those tales that sailors used to tell about South America and China before we discovered and understood them. That’s a thought, actually – you wouldn’t happen to know any kingdoms of the Far East? Kampong, Siam, Zipangu?” She looked hopeful for a moment, but the man evidenced no familiarity or recognition. “Then I must conclude that your Illuminated Empire is something entirely out of our knowledge, as we are doubtless out of yours.”

Turning over the narrative in her head, however, she noted something. “But wait, you say that your base, this Foundry, has *moved*? How has it moved, exactly? You see, it strikes me that in this regard, if in no other, your situation resembles ours. For, as you have no doubt guessed, we are on a voyage, in distant waters, far from home and country. If, as you imply, you have but recently found yourself in an unpredictable and unfamiliar milieu,” and this last with more enthusiasm, “can it be that we have both been cast adrift, so to speak?”

liason · Posted: 06 Feb 2004 02:16 pm Post subject:

"Adrift..." Liason looked thoughtful for a moment, "I am not a seafaring man myself, but your metaphor may be an apt one. There are details of our circumstances which differ substantially, but I am increasingly inclined to consider them secondary to our true situation."

Liason was silent for a while, then looked up at the Captain.

"I must thank you Captain. Your insight may have saved me a great deal of trouble. I think now that instead of simply seeking new trade routes I should perhaps devote some of my efforts to better understanding our situation."

His glass was refilled for him and Liason sat back in his chair.

"But first, if you'd care to tell, perhaps I could hear a little of the land from which you and your crew have travelled ?"

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

The Captain had brought out a small slip of parchment and a quill, and had begun to make a few notes, scratching out some rough diagrams. “I fear that a proper explanation would require some time – but suffice it to say that like, yourself, I serve a higher authority – the Nation of England, and her Queen. Our efforts, however, are focused exploration and discovery, instead of diplomacy and trade, at least for this particular mission.” Here the Captain frowned, scratched something out on the paper, and made a further notation. “Our nation has been at war in the recent past, in which many members of this crew saw action. At current, we hold to an uneasy peace, and the focus of the Service has been policing and defense. For this reason, I am especially interested in these unusual developments, and I am concerned as to how or whether we will be able to return, or at least send word home.”

The Captain seemed about to say more, when there was a knock on the door. At her assent, a crewman entered and saluted. “Excuse me, ma’am, but the boat with Lieutenant Staves and the Doctor has returned, and the Doctor would like to speak with you. She says you will find the matter of some interest.” At this, the Captain sprang to her feet. “Please excuse me, Mr. L’Iason, but I believe this is rather important. In the meantime, do make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing to the great cabin, with its large dining table, desk, and other furnishings. “I will return shortly

liason · Posted: 07 Feb 2004 03:53 pm Post subject:

"Quite alright." Liason nodded to the captain and remained in his chair, eyes half closed. The Captain's words had given him a great deal to think about.

It seemed that the circumstances at the Foundry were not quite as had been assumed. Others, too, found themselves entrapped in a prison of mist.

Perhaps there would now be a chance not only to restore the Foundry's strength and resource, but also to form alliances against the shared enemy...

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

A few moments after the Captain had left, the door suddenly opened with a crash. A frowning woman in her mid-forties, dressed on a sailor’s uniform, entered the room, carrying a pair of large sliver candlesticks and muttering to herself. “Seven bells, and the table not set, the pudding not risen, and here’s the Doctor, back from the pub, what’s a woman to do, honestly?” Seeing Liason, she said. “Begging your pardon for the disturbance, sir, but I’ll be setting the table for supper, seeing as how it’ll be dinner soon.” Without waiting for an answer, she set down the candlesticks, scooped up whatever of the Captain’s papers had been lying on the table, and unceremoniously dumped them on the desk next to which Liason was sitting. She then proceeded to remove a large linen tablecloth from one of the drawers in the sideboard, and began to set the table.

From within the quiet cabin, a great deal of noise could be heard on the deck above, with much rushing of feet, shouts and the piping of the whistle.

liason · Posted: 09 Feb 2004 11:04 am Post subject:

"Is something amiss ?" Liason, ignorant of the ship's rituals, was unsure whether he was in the middle of a serious crisis.

"If there is anything I can do, I should like to volunteer my assistance," he added, rising to his feet.

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

“Nay, sir, that’s just the preparations for observance of noon. I daresay the Captain will be going on deck directly to see to punishments, though you may attend if you wish.” The woman had finished setting the table, and was hurriedly lighting the candles at its center. Then she was gone out the door, and a few seconds later, there came the ringing of a bell, followed by the cry “All hands! All hands on deck!” Further trooping footsteps could be heard, and then all was calm outside.

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

On deck, the crew had gathered in an orderly fashion. The Captain had emerged from her conference, and a small dark haired woman (who was evidently the Doctor) stood at her side. Various ships’ drills were announced for the afternoon, including practice of the great guns, which sparked a few discontented murmurs, but these soon disappeared with the further announcement that each crewmember would be issued a pint of beer in addition to the usual grog ration.

Next, a seaman was called up on a charge of drunkenness. “Gilbert was assigned to the topmast lookout, ma’am, and reported seeing a large flying animal,” Second Lieutenant Staves paused, and continued with some embarrassment “that he claimed was a dragon, ma’am. Clearly, he was drunk on watch, or otherwise neglecting his duties.” The Captain and the Doctor exchanged a significant look. “I swear it were true, ma’am!” Gilbert looked contrite, standing with his cap in hand, but his voice was earnest. “I know it sounds like one ’o’ them tales, but that’s what it looked like – winged it were, and golden. If’n it weren’t a flying serpent or some such, it must’ve been a bloody great bird!” The Captain seemed thoughtful, and stole another glance at the Doctor before pronouncing her judgment. “I believe we shall be lenient this time Gilbert, as you’ve no record as a troublemaker or malingerer. You’ll forfeit your liquor ration for a week, and take an additional watch during that period. But,” and here she smiled kindly, “seeing as the beer is an added luxury, you may keep your share of that, today.” Gilbert looked relieved. “Thank you, ma’am!” Yet a few of the other senior crew seemed surprised at the lightness of the punishment, and the Doctor still looked troubled.

“Well, now that’s taken care of, shall we proceed to dinner?” The fife began to play as the crew gathered to receive their alcohol ration from the tubs and casks set up on the main deck, while the Captain, followed by the three Lieutenants, the Sailing Master, and the Doctor, proceeded to the great cabin, where dinner awaited.

Larkin Quickgrip · Good Joined: 21 Jan 2004 Posts: 34 Location: The Slums

Larkin had emerged on the main deck a little after the routine had started and from then had merely stood at the back and watched. Now he was lost as to what to do again. Finding Michaels he tapped her on the back and said "So what do we do now?"

liason · Posted: 10 Feb 2004 11:32 am Post subject:

"Captain, I have been contemplating matters during your brief absence and it occurs to me to make a proposal of sorts. You may accept or decline as you choose, of course."

Liason paused as dinner was served. The food looked rather different from anything he was used to, but he decided it might be impolite to stare at it.

"In the absence of customers, the Imperial Foundry stands idle. This benefits nobody. In the meantime, it falls to me to determine the nature of the curious situation in which we find ourselves and also to procure the various raw materials required by the Artisans."

Liason paused in his speech to try a little of the food.

"My proposal is this: If you would be prepared to share with me any information you discover and to keep your eye out for means by which the Foundry might supply itself, then in exchange I will arrange for the services of the Foundry to be made available to you without charge."

Captain Isobel DeRainault · Good Joined: 20 Jan 2004 Posts: 100 Location: HMS Justice

Dinner was surprisingly good, all considered. The lobscouse was greatly improved by Temper’s innovative addition of fresh fruit from the island, and between that and the spices, one could hardly taste the slightly aged character of the salt meat. In addition, the bread that the Doctor had brought back was fragrant and soft, a welcome change after months of ship’s biscuit. The wine, which had also come back from the pub, was of excellent quality as well – not quite a claret, but possessing the same oaken notes. All in all, it was quite helpful in lifting disturbed spirits, and the Captain was feeling quite merry by the time that their guest made his proposal.

“Sir, that is a most handsome offer – and I’ll tell you now, I am inclined to accept it.” The Captain paused, and took a sip of her wine, and looked over at her companion, the Doctor. “Indeed, the Doctor has brought some matters to my attention that I believe would prove enlightening. However, I do not believe that the dinner table is the place for such business. We should talk after the meal, over the port, perhaps? In the meantime, allow me to introduce my officers. Across from you, the Ship’s Surgeon, Doctor Maria Domenova, at her right First Lieutenant William Stafford, whom you know, and next to him, Third Lieutenant Louise Erickson. You are seated next to Second Lieutenant Susan Staves, and at her left, Sailing Master Henry Baker.” The Captain gestured expansively around the table as each crewmember was named. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. L’Iason, who is our guest aboard the ship. I am inclined to think that we shall be seeing quite a bit of him.”

The Doctor, who had been wearing an expression of pensive concern throughout the meal, perked up somewhat at this announcement. Leaning over to Mr. L’Iason, she said “When you have the opportunity, sir, I would be most interested to hear more about the history of your Empire, as well as its language and culture. The Captain has mentioned a few items from your earlier discussion, and it sounds absolutely fascinating.” Lieutenant Staves, on the other hand, seemed somewhat overwhelmed at the presence of this tall, exotic looking foreigner and remained quiet throughout the meal, although she favored him with the occasional shy smile. Master Baker, Lieutenant Erickson, and Lieutenant Stafford, meanwhile, began a spirited discussion on the unusual weather conditions, and their likely cause.

Following the pudding, which was another tropical fruit based creation, and service of the coffee, the Lieutenants took their leave to begin preparations for the afternoon drills, and the Master went with them. As he left, Lieutenant Stafford mentioned that Mr. L’Iason’s effects would doubtless be dry soon, and to please send word if he would like his weapons, “Although,” he said “I would much appreciate having a closer look at them at some point, if you might be persuaded to give a demonstration.” Looking at the Captain, he added, “They are some of the finest small arms I have seen.”

Finally, the dishes and settings were cleared away by a grumbling Temper, who was greatly aggrieved over a wine spill on the tablecloth. With a small glass of port in hand, the Captain made her way over to the untidy heap of papers on her desk, and pulled out the one on which she had made a diagram. Finding some pen and ink, she sat down again with a sigh. “Now, as to your earlier offer, sir. I am happy to accept it, and share what information that we have, although I am not sure how you will take it – indeed, I am unsure of how to take it myself. However, the Doctors has reliably informed me that other inhabitants of this area are of the opinion that we – yourself, Quickgrip, and myself and my crew – have been deliberately unmoored from the worlds we know and set here,” and here the Captain’s voice held such bewilderment, as if she could hardly believe what she was saying, “by Gods.”

liason · Posted: 15 Feb 2004 09:08 pm Post subject:

"Gods..." Liason appeared lost in thought for a moment - an expression which the Captain had begun to recognise as characteristic - before continuing hesistantly, "I am not quite sure what that might mean."

"Within the Illuminated Empire the word 'god' has certain meanings and connotations, but none of the beings to which such a title might apply are... What I mean to say is that one would never expect to meet a god, much less to be imprisoned or unmoored by one."

"If there is truth in this tale then we are in fearful trouble."

Liason's tone then lightened a little as he changed the topic of conversation.

"As to another matter you mentioned earlier. Perhaps when we have finished our port you would care to see a demonstration of the weapons I carry. And, indeed, if you so wish you may try them for yourself ?"