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Author Topic: The final letter of Mr S. Speed  (Read 956 times)
Clym Angus
Zeppelin Admiral
United Kingdom United Kingdom

Lord of Misrule

« on: September 20, 2007, 04:16:06 pm »

Dear Dr Flaxworth,

I write to you regarding my further investigations into the DeNoir ruin. As you well know family came from proverbial “old money” having had the dubious pleasure of being one of the only Templar families spared the papal (and royal) destruction, due to their flight to England. In the ensuing centuries the family had (wisely) ingratiated themselves with the existing royal courts of the time. Until the total destruction of the family in 1899. The cause of this total annihilation of the DeNoir line has been something of a mystery.

That is until recently, when certain “manuscripts” came to light relating to a number of unsolved murders and disappearances  within the Barkshire area around the ancestral home of the Denoir family. Though written in code these manuscripts appear to refer to the worship of a machine deity. Indeed the DeNoir family were one of the principle investors in several important innovations (and exponents of) the industrial revolution. It would appear that these passages (punched into fine steel plate pages) although corroded from the well publicized fire at the manor and subsequent weather damage might go some way to explain the disappearances and (dare I say) financial successes.

I include two of the many passages we have (thus far) been able to translate from this most interesting text, titled most interestingly the Mechanica Apocalyptica. I appologise in advance for the rough state of this translation. The weather here is somewhat hellish.


Spencer Speed
Crown Appointed Investigator A.C.S- 2nd class

The promise of lord Scrighench, god  of steam, steel and will.
For lo, I made thee able to fathom my will. In mining, you found me. In the changing, so my power was made known to you. In form I held strong to your will, In liquid I flowed around you, into that which your will wished to hold form, in formlessness, I was still known to you, and still, though blown on the winds I held true to this will of man. In heating I glowed with the power given to me. In the frost I became hardened and unyielding. In thy measurement I am true in all things.

In form and formlessness, I am all that is seen by thee. To the wise I am servant. To the fool hardy I am too a terrible master, judge and bringer of punishment. Know me and through me you will find an ease to woe, work and suffering. Fix your load to my shoulder and you will know release and   sanctuary on the turning of my will. For all I do is known to thee, all that is seen is part of me. In nothing can my work no be seen and through thy struggle of creation I become ever more.

Through the hands of man are made the wider will of the machine. Through flesh comes steel, thought steel comes power beyond the strength of flesh.

The pledge of steam
Though the present enfolds me, I shall not be held victim to it's complacency.
For there are many ways of living and many ways we have lived.
I pledge to take the best from the past and in my way, meld it with imagination and that which is now.
For the cream of the past is lost on this world, the skill of the past is unloved in this world and the beauty of the past is found unfathomable to those who would dictate beauty.
By will, through will, this will change.
Through flesh comes steel, thought steel comes strength beyond the power of flesh.

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