Steam and Sand 2: Anthracite Days - Game Thread

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The man nodded at their questions.

"Yes, the Professor does seem to be able in this regard. Of course, if you're lucky, there may not need to be much digging at all. From what I've heard, most of the scrap metal has been extracted for use. The more whole and complex parts may still be buried or may be kept by the natives as, perhaps, icons. That's something you will have to determine when you arrive. As for phantom cats... well... I don't put much faith in legends but it seems to be a common tale that things over the border can get... strange. But this is not too far into the heart of the darkness and I doubt you'll come across anything too... bizarre."

He then turned to Harris. "A good question, Mr. Harris. I'm glad to see you're a cautious man. However I assure you that I am a man who... deals with his enemies. I am certain of this missions security. At the very worst, even if there were rumours, there would be no way for anyone to find where you are going, or even to find out that I had hired you specifically. And even if someone did puzzle it out... by then I am sure it would be far to late for them to do anything at all. In two days time you should be in York and out of the reach of southern spies."

[ScytheKnight]

Harris nods slowly as their employer talks his eyes dark in deep thought. "Very well, so we should only expect local resistance... 'Phantom Cats' hmm? I've heard the rumors myself, I've never faced any but from what I've heard I wouldn't care much to either. Even still may be an idea to lay in some provisions for a major fight... something like this is to big an opportunity to get careless or complacent. May even be an idea to see if we can get a hold of some young artillery... I don't think we'll need it but I'd hate to surprised by anything heavy with just the Professor's Maxim and some dynamite."

He finishes his drink and has his head down still deep in thought.

[MWBailey]

"If it's the 'cats' I'm thinking of, it's probably really just one, which was separated from its owner, who supposedly disappeared from the rig he was on," the Professor intoned. "If the story is true, there may be real danger, but the way I heard it, most of the folks who were mauled got that way trying to chase or capture the poor animal, which is next to toothless from age, but cantankerous by nature. A Jaguar or South American 'Puma,' I believe it is supposed to be. I'd still like to have the necessary weapons, though, if the Boar Rider rumors are true, no matter whom they actually are working for."

"By the way, what kind of armament does the rig have?" Van Scagg asked with nearly a young boy's enthusiasm.

[JohnSix]

Sam listened to the briefing eagerly, smirk widening as the details emerged.

"Other end of the country... Hasty departure.... secrecy.... heavily armed escort.... and a doctor?" he muses to himself. "Doesn't get much better than that. And to think I thought I was having a bad luck streak."

He immediately starts running through his list of contacts up north, as he folds his arms and continues listening to the group...

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"The armaments on the rig are standard and adequate." replied their employer. "Though designed mostly for anti-infantry roles. There are two sponson crank machine-guns and a frontal clip loading one. There used to be a small turret but that has been replaced with the simple crane apparatus. Most of the defense should be provided by you yourselves. Just incase things get messy, I have provided you with a few simple rocket tubes. Those are part of the supplies I've packed onboard, which I should mention. Besides those, there are enough small arms and rifles for all of you, though I'm certain you've packed your own. There are the rocket tubes and a small cache of explosives in case you come across obstacles - mostly dynamite. There is preserved food that should just cover the journey but for your own comfort I'd recommend purchasing heartier meals at your stops. There is more than enough coal and some firewood... ropes, shovels and that sort of equipment... bedding and such. This transport is modified to have six small private rooms. Tiny affairs but that's to be expected. Besides those and the forward driving area is an area in the back for meeting, storage, offloading, meals and whatnot. Not a luxurious travel rig but it's designed mostly to keep you alive."

The man finished his drink, placing the glass down carefully. "Unless there are more questions I'd suggest taking your leaves to get sleep. You start early - my servant here will meet you at the break of day at the entrance to the motor complex. Are you all lodged in the city? I can arrange to get you rooms somewhere nearby."

[Stella Gaslight]

The rig sounded intriguing  and the idea of having a room to herself no matter how small was a novel one.  At home atrium most families had a central room with curtained alcoves, true walls were unheard of.  She was beginning to think her arrival here had been part of some large karmic gift.  Perhaps she had beat the boredom at last. She smiled at the offer of lodgings and tried to remember the last time she had slept on a proper bed.   It was a least a month and one that was inside a building was even more rare. This would be a treat.  "I have no roost for the evening but would like one if it isn't too much trouble."

[MWBailey]

"That sounds splendid," Van Scagg said. "We wouldn't want to be too strong in appearance lest we are mistaken for a military expedition. Don't want to start any wars, do we?"

"I could use a room, also," said Van Scagg. "A bed and a good sleep would start the journey out well, I'd say."                                          

[JohnSix]

"...And a night in a nice hotel? This just gets better and better" Sam smirks to himself.

He raises his hand. "I'll need a room as well, my good man."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Well," Pitivo though aloud "I would not horribly mind getting a new place to stay, theres a lad down at the hosyel Im staying at, some little scholarly type who wont stop grilling me about being a traveller, every night its 'right of passages' this and 'Cultural heritage' that. He gets very annoying, and it has taken me all of my hartest training to not put my knuckles through his teeth."

He put his feet down off the ottoman as he pondered just what this armored, weapons-laden collossus might look like. Whatever the device, it seemed that this man was willing to go great lengths to get hios hands on whatever it was that now lay buried in the ground.
Pitivo felt the icy hand of suspision grip his shoulders, as if telling him to prepare for the unexpected.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The man nodded at their requests.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure that this hotel has that many free vacancies. As well, it is a rather expensive establishment - its main clientele seems to be obscenely wealthy merchants... Thank God for Mercia, the land of no taxes, I suppose. However I'm not going to shuffle you off to a communal lodge. Hmm. Let me see..."

The man takes out a slip of paper and jots down a few notes, handing it to his servant. The man steps outside the door, whistles and summons a young running lad, sending him off with the note.

"There. For the sake of convenience I've arranged that you can stay at the "Umber Inn". Its right by the gate to the motor-pool so it will be short walk in the morning. There should be enough room, most guests are only here for a night anyways. Its clean and comfortable last time I checked and the landlord is a friend of mine, so there'll be no trouble."

The man finished another drink before taking out a thin cigarette and lighting it.

"Now, if there's no more questions I'll bid you a goodnight. I'll have the transport and supplies ready in the morning.  You all seem dependable. This is a very, very vital job and I wouldn't have it entrusted to persons of suspect responsibility. However, remember that I am hiring you and not "professionals" for the reason of secrecy. I have enemies and they have spies but they won't know who you are. Just don't go getting drunk at some tavern somewhere and tell everyone there what you're doing, alright? And be careful - I don't doubt your skills but the unexpected can always occour. Keep quiet, keep quick and keep cautious and you'll get your payment in no time at all."

[MWBailey]

"Very well, sir," Percy said, taking the paper with the note on it. A bed!  real bed! and close to the motor pool! Hildegarde will sleep easy tonight, he mused to himself. He turned to the others.

" I can carry four others besides my self, if one is willing to ride double with me. Three in the sidecar will be a bit cramped, but it's doable. Just a short hop over to the motor pool from here. What say you?"

[Stella Gaslight]

"I would like to travel with you.  I have never ridden such a thing before and would like to try."  The noisy metal contraption was fascinating to Miri.  She had been on a far number of ships and carts but nothing with an engine before.       

[JohnSix]

"Most definitely preferable to walking." Sam says.

He figures that it should they run afoul any old acquaintances a mechanised transport would make for an easy escape....

[MWBailey]

The Professor ferried those who wished to ride over to their hotel, and checked in, taking both the maxim and the blunderbuss with him to the room, along with another four belts of ammunition. Once in the room, he took the maxim apart, cleaned and oiled the parts that needed it, and reassembled it (all hundred or so parts), leaning it beside the bed after he wa sthrough he then went to take his bath, tasking the .50 along with him.

When he returned, he dressed for sleep and climbed in, and was off to sleep in almost the same instant. A fitful, light sleep, for he had never gotten over his former days as a vagabond archaeologist and adventurer, and had realized early on that heavy sleepers tended to become dead ones.

[ScytheKnight]

Harris closed the door of his room and took a slow walk around it, memorizing distances and entrances, before placing the saddlebag from his bike next to the small table and removing his duster carefully to avoid snagging it on anything. With the duster removed the contraptions holding hidden, foot-long blades along the backs of his forearms where clearly visible, along with the holsters for his revolvers and hardened elbow pads.

A quick look at the mechanism on his right arm shows what the now dried blood had done to it 'Dammit' he thought 'Should have taken the time to clean this properly instead of going on that wild goose chase.' With a resigned sigh he removes the device and places it on the table before sitting down and opening the saddlebag he'd taken from his bike. Inside where an assortment of tools and containers he used in repairing and maintaining both his bike and weapons. Removing several tools he began the work of taking the blade device apart and meticulously cleaning every component before carefully reassembling it. He does the same for the one that sits on his left arm even though he hadn't used it, maintaining both at the same time prevented the occurrence of needing both and only having one deploy properly, he absently rubbed the scar that had taught him that lesson.

He replaces both of them on his arms and tests them with the same unusual clenching motion he had used in the bar. To his satisfaction both blades snap forward with the same well-oiled hiss of metal on metal and retract smoothly. Nodding in satisfaction he removes them again and begins work on stripping down and cleaning his revolvers before heading to bed for a few hours sleep before their departure.

[MWBailey]

At one point, Van Scagg heard a noise, and his eyes flew open, his fingers groping his khukri from its sheath with his right hand, and his pistol from its holster with his left, throwing the sheets off with his left leg and foot, (He always wore weapons to bed, ever since that job in Grimpen Atrium, when assassins tried to keep the  Cornwallian Mobile Demolitions team from seeing the field), and springing out of bed, already wide awake and set to assume a fighting stance before his feet hit the floor. He went to the door, looked out of teh peephole, and saw the maid galumphing by, her cart making the Thud...Thud...CREAK...Thud noise that had awakened him. He holstered his pistol and sheathed the huge knife, and consulted his watch on teh nightstand beside the bed.

Seeing by his watch that there was only one hour and a few minutes before the proper time to wake up and get ready to head out, he elected to stay up and dress and ready himself to accompany the others to the motor pool. He put on his shirt, after strapping on the hideout bandolier with its two peppermills and a very short barrelled single-shot cap -and-ball pistol of teh screw-on breech variety (almost ridiculously antiquated but undeniably hideable). Then came the ankle, leg and inner arm scabbards for his throwing knives. he put on his trousers, checking to be certain the over-under derringer was in the watch pocket, then strapped on the magazine pistol's holster, and hung the khukri on with it's separate 'sword belt.' he then put on his brown worsted weskit and put the brown leather duster with its various other small pistols and knives and less-offensive gadgets and whatnots on over all.

He then checked the Maxim to be sure that the middle-point bipod was attached securely and that its foldup catch held it securely out of harm's way--

And then he sat, and read from a small book that he removed from one of the duster's many deep pockets, by the light of the stump of a candle on the nightstand, pinching it out as teh light of morning began to creep in through the scant little window across teh room. Typical of most lower-rent hotels, it was large enough to serve as both a light source, and also as a ventilator if one opened the sliding sash... but much too small to be used as an escape hatch even if the entire window were removed from the hole that it occupied -- no doubt as a deterrent to patrons who might wish to abscond on their bills...

[Stella Gaslight]

Miri was shocked at the speed of Van Scagg's contraption, it rushed along in a most wonderful way.  Miri was even more sure she must get one of her own to have that speed at her beck and call would really be something.  The hotel might have been a bit rundown but having a door to close and a bed to sleep on was as good as having a palace to her.  The first thing she did was flop on the bed with a happy sigh.  Then she washed her face twice in the wash basin just to feel the coolness on her skin and washed her socks as well.  It was very hard to purify water in the home and they had so little fresh water from the spring that each drop was used to the fullest but this also meant the home had some of the best filtration systems possible and had engineered soap that was easy to filter out.  With her small water flask system even the thrice used wash water could be made drinkable, not tasty by any means but drinkable.  Out of habit she filled her flask knowing there was better to be had.  She hung the drying socks off the end of her bed and pulled out the carefully hidden gold ring on a silk cord.  "Ah darling Paavan I have had such a day." Feet dangling off the bed she told the ring all about her adventures while getting in to a pretty nightgown that she kept for special occasions, like sleeping indoors. She took her hair out of it's coiled braid under the headscarf and brushed it tell it was free of all the dust of travel and then tired from her efforts she went to sleep. 

Used to a cotton sling or the bare rocks Miri tossed and turned in her sleep as if her body did not quite understand the comfort it found itself in.  Finally her rolling extended over the side of her bed and she fell on to the floor with a thump.  She woke up rather confused, apologized sleepily to her invisible bed mate and then crawled back up in the covers and was back asleep in moments.  She knew dawn was coming but she wanted those last few moments of sleep that were as precious and sweet to her as honey candy.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Pitivo carried a heavily patched up canvas bag into the lobby, leaving behind a trail of sand and potato peelings. A frightened looking correspondent looked at the battered young man and searched for the name he requested. An only recently reserved room came up, and his key was given.
Pitivo thanked her kindly in Roma and headed to his room, singing to himself and occaisonally clicking his heels, excitement causing a spring in each of his clanking steps.

He was soon holed up in his room, his few personal affects tossed haphazardly upon every table, bed, or flat surface. He kicked his boots off and removed his armor, letting it fall to the floor with an audible clank. His gauntlets, however were treated with much higher regard, placed on top of the shelf.
"G'night ladies." He said with a playful chuckle, laying down on his bed before hearing the resoudning sound of a certain young woman hitting the ground. He shruged it off, folded his legs, and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a grand adventure, and an even grander story.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The night passes without further trouble or calamity and soon dawn begins to break once again, the first rays of the sun distorted in the sepia embrace of the dome and filtered down over the Atrium. A light mist rises from the centre as the fields receive their carefully stored morning rain.

At the motor pool, the mysterious job-giver stands in the shade of the gates, slowly puffing at a cigarette. The transport rig is just across the ways, a large, wide, squat and undeniably solid affair, beautiful in a way only the ugliest and toughest of machines can be. Workers struggled carrying the large buckets of coal to top off its engines, the hatch at the rear of the vehicles opened.

The benefactor watches the work with a slight nod of approval and continues to wait.

[MWBailey]

As the morning light stole across the surfaces of his room, the Professor slung the .50 over his shoulder and shouldered the ammo belts once more, and went out to make sure that all of Hildegarde's various bits were all bound up or screwed down or whatever, and noticed the workers busily scurrying about loading coal into a huge tracked behemoth across the street. It looked as though it could haul twice their party's number with room to spare. Percy had in fact billetted aboard one during the Siege of Battersea Atrium back almost ten years before, when he was still gun-smithing, odd-jobbing, demolitioning, and 'arky-ing' for Anglia's military and scholarly institutions. He suspected they would be mostly sticking to the roads for directness' sake, but the thing looked as if it could handle the Sticks if it had to. He saw the Benefactor smoking a cigar nearby, and went over to speak to him about loading Hildegarde aboard.

"I say, she looks just like the one I was in at Battersea," he said, "any chance of getting Hildegard-- Er, that is, my cycle aboard early?"

[JohnSix]

Sam stumbled out of bed, much earlier than he was used to.

After hurried dressing and downing an unintended cup of tea on the way out he arrives at the motor pool.
He notes who's already arrived, and makes his way to the rig...

It was certainly the biggest one he'd seen and much more armoured...

"Wow...I've obviously been missing out on proper travel...."

[ScytheKnight]

Harris woke to the first glimmer of light hitting his eyes and with an almost alarming number of cracking joints limbers up for the day. Within a couple of minutes he was armed and dressed and heading out the door of his room with his saddlebag slung over his shoulder, one didn't last long as an Anglia Army conscript if you can't get up and ready for battle within minutes.

Not long after this he arrives at the motorpool and gets his first good look at the rig. 'Now THAT is an impressive sight.... not even the military armors their rigs like this.' Noticing the professor talking to their employer he walks over to his Foxhound cycle and after replacing the saddlebag he gives it a thorougher inspection. After being assured that everything was in good condition and that no 'surprises' had been left by anyone else 'Damn I hate public parking.' he thought to himself.

With everything in order he walks over to the professor and their employer. When he get close he nods towards the rig "Quite an impressive sight to wake up to eh?" he says with a small chuckle "Any ideas when we'll be getting aboard?".

[Stella Gaslight]

Miri woke up feeling bright, sunny and slightly confused as to where she was.  Without the naked sunlight to wake her she had over slept. Miri braided her hair and got dressed in a flash.  Nibbling on a bit of dried meat from her pack and gulping down some of the fresh water she snagged on the way out of the inn she ran to the meeting place. She gave the waiting gentlemen a little breathless bow.  "Very sorry about this, the sun took it's time coming to my room."  The rig was like nothing she had ever seen.  "What a creature to be at our beck and call."  She did not fully understand how it moved but she walked around it marveling none the less.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

"You can get aboard whenever you like." said their benefactor with a smile to Harris. "There, the rear entrance is open so you can see the rear section hanger. I'll show you."

He gestured inside. "The rig is roughly three sections. The back is the hanger and general storage area as well as fuel storage and access to the engines - there should be room for the other vehicles in there. The middle is the living quarters, the small six rooms. The small corridor through that leads to the front, which is the driving, control and weapons room. This rear ramp is the main entrance but there are two smaller doors at the front and the hatch on top. As for a route, you can go whichever way you want. Roads are faster, but may be watched by bandits. Going on the sands may be rougher, but this rig is, as you can see, very wide - the large treads let it spread out its weight more to prevent getting bogged down too much. After the Gypsy shows up you can be on your way.

[MWBailey]

Having lit the burner just before going to speak with the benefactor, the professor went back to his cycle and this time pedaled the cycle around teh parking area for a moment, and then when the pressure indicator clicked, put the drive train in gear and pushed over the steam throttle, he thwip!pop!hisss-ed Hildegarde over to the Rig and steered her up the ramp, and into the Hangar area, parking her well off to one side, against the rear wall of same.  He chose a small bay close to the door, for easy egress should Hildegard be required for reconnaissance or other duties, then He got off the Bike, blew her boiler out, blew out the burner, and then covered Hildegarde with a cinch-down canvas tarp that he had used many times before (as evidenced by the large number of patches and stains), but left teh sidecar door uncovered but locked, in case he needed anything from there.

He then went to the forwardmost unclaimed cabin, laid the Maxim and her belts (many more were in the sidecar, but these six were handy at hand just in case) down on the bunk, and then went back out to help the others get loaded up.