"STEAM LONDON" Game Thread

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss went to his cabin after saying goodnight to his ward, and closed the door. He prayed a prayer to do well in battle in the coming days, knowing that a battle as decisive as the one they all hoped to fight could take several days to win, or could all be decided in an hour; it all hinged on chance, the way that the outcome of a firefight in a wooded field often depends upon the tiny-yet-impossibly-huge, utterly insensate turn of a leaf in the wind before it either falls unseen and unheard in a bush a hundred yards away, or blows closer and lands on a big pile of leaves and starts a sudden avalanche, which startles the fighter into reacting before the proper order can be given, thus changing forever the most perfect plans of men, for good or ill.

Such a chance occurrence had occurred atthe Battle of San Jacinto, so many years before. The Mexican Army, sleeping in the warm Midday after what had been for many of them a forced march to catch and bottle up the rebels in a bend of the Rio de San Jacinto, thought that the rebels were trapped. The rudimentary Airship forces of teh Mexican army (in actuality only a sort of blimp with a tiny alcohol-fired steam engine, for scouting, and a very crude flying battery  - four swivel guns - with a somewhat-larger engine for holding position in a light breeze or wind) had been swept away downriver by the previous night's thunderstorms, and were trying to beat their way back northward against a strong head-wind, not expected to arrive til late afternoon.

That was the time that Houston and his officers decided to spring the attack; moving toward the enemy camp as silently as they could manage (not very; even professional troops of the day were incredibly noisy on the move), they got within a twenty yards of the enemy camp, and posted snipers, positioned their two small field guns, and then had a different fifer from Dreyfuss (he having been put in command of the Misfits), the two fiddlers, and some kid they had caught beating on a pot and into whose hands they stuck a drum and sticks, play a horribly un-tuneful, but scary-as-hell-rendition of Will You Come To teh Bower, as the snipers began picking off people ambling around and staring stupidly at the Texians right outside the camp (the Mexican officers, so supremely overconfident, had failed to post sentries).

Then, General Sam slashed his saber down and there began a duel between the Twin Sisters (the two-gun battery given to the Texian army by an American benefactor) and the hastily-manned mexican guns, soon disabling the entire Mexican battery -- and then the Texians - Dreyfuss included - charged. And then simply walked and ran around for the rest of the day, killing mexican soldiers. It turned out to be a complete rout of the Mexican army; the pitched battle had lasted only a scant twenty minutes at most, and as Dreyfuss recalled, it all began as the dead leaves from a newly-budding live oak fell down and startled General Sam's horse...

The dream ended with an all-too-real parade of ancestors, assuring Dreyfuss that the Human cause against the Cold Ones would ultimately be won, even if it appeared at teh climax, to be about to be lost -- and that he would be there for the victory.

[Arabella Granger]

"I know," Ella said simply. "I trust you."

She sighed. "It's going to be difficult, and dangerous. We've known that from the beginning. But it doesn't have to end this way. It's alright to hope that things will turn out for the best. Just think--when this is finished, we'll all be able to live our lives again. We won't ever need to be afraid, because we'll have faced true evil and come back. That's why we're doing this, isn't it? So we can be safe?" She tried to keep her voice even and calm, for she knew that her words were not meant for Elisha alone, but for herself as well.

"We'll be all right..." she said, quietly. "I have to believe that we're going to be all right."

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss put everything back on again, in the proper order, including the Sombrero, and fo rthe first time in many years, his blood-red Infantry Lieutenant's sash around his waist. He strapped, buckled, tied, and holstered everything that was needful, packed teh grenades into his bag, made sure the water bottle was full, that he had plenty of bandages, and had his heat-sensing goggles in rest position around his neck. HE then made sure that everythiung that might rattle loudly enough to alert watchers was securely tied and muffled, except, of course, his sword, which would be difficult to draw with the muffling.

He opened his cabin door, and whistled a rhythmic verse of Apple Blossom in time to the rattle of his saber as he ascended the corridor to the galley. He then stood and waited his turn with everyone else. "smells mighty fine, Miss Emma," he said.

[Stella Gaslight]

"Yay Pancakes." Angel said moving a small mountain of cakes to her plate.  She ate happily soon becoming sticky with syrup.  If this was going to be her last meal she was going to fully enjoy it.  

"Thanks Dreyfuss. It is nice to be complimented on something that normally sends people running for the hills."   Emma smiled at Angel's enjoyment and wondered if what she was feeling was close to what her mother did.  She had wanted to have a child someday but it looked like all she might git was Angel as a stand in. She shook her head this was no time to wallow in melancholy their was work to be done and she was never one to run from it.  The battle song roared through her and she ended up humming along to it as she busied herself making tea and coffee.

[E.A. Claringbold]

Dreyfuss was the last person she had seen before lying down unable to sleep. He had come in to say goodnight and with her response he left. Lying down, looking up to the ceiling of her cabin still fully clothed including her coat, her mind ran through several things from worries about the future to husks of her past.  It was still not too late; as soon as she could, she could turn and run. She owed her life to no one during the length of her short life and she still maintained it so. She was no hero and she was not about to join a group that had a low chance of surviving, and yet she had. She had joined the crew, perhaps not formally, but what she did with her tank before she rashly destroyed it, partially out of nihilistic fun, was enough. Reclining on her side, if not for herself, she thought, she had to stay for her cousin. Her mind retaliated with the fact that her family was really not her own and that she resented that life, seeing it as one large lie; she had no family. Again her mind, pushed back with the thought that if her family had not taken her in and instead thrown her into the gutter or some orphanage as some might have done, she would not even be here, alive and living life to the fullest even if it was a touch reckless. She sneered to herself, yes, the burn on your face and all. Here, she put her foot down and left it. Her decision was made and she knew it was the right thing to do. Gently curled up, her last thoughts were irrelevant as she finally dropped into empty and sightless black which she knew was the best of nature’s balm, sleep.

In the morning, she had woken and gotten ready to the best of her ability. Seeing that she had lost her hair fork, she had found a length of metal that served well enough to put her hair into a bun.

“Morning, Emma,” she said as she looked at the food. Goodness, the lass had cooked so much.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick took onto his plate a disturbingly large pile of flapjacks. He drenched the steaming mound of cakes in amber syrup and took a bite that would have made a reticulated python woozy. Patrick's new skin would keep him living for a long time, but you didn't get something for nothing. Patrick's appetite had doubled, greivously cutting into the food supply. The burgundy sap dribbled from his chin, only to be sopped up my a white rag provided by Jen who was eating not much else than a glass of water and some reconstituted eggs.

Cain decided to join Angel in her last meal, but yeilded to her whenever the last pancake from the batch stood alone on the white platter. A jar of jam had been placed beside her. Angel's eyes lit up at the sight of it.
"Some of the boys from the other ships gave us theirs, none of the crew likes Jam that much." Patrick stated as if he were describing the brand new airship he got her.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss took a moderate stack of flapjacks , a large dollop of reconstituted eggs, and a large mug of coffee, adding enough cream to make it off-white and sufficient sugar to nearly turn it to caramel syrup. He noticed Patrick's look and said, "I like a lil' coffee with mah sugar." he also added a small dribble from the flask. "for snakebite," he said.

[E.A. Claringbold]

She did not take as much as the others. Piling three flapjacks onto her plate with a moderate drowning with syrup, she sat with a cup of water and greeted those at the table with a quiet ‘good morning’.  Noting how much sugar and a bit of alcohol from a flash Dreyfuss put into his coffee, she raised an eyebrow, but said nothing of it.  Taking her fork, she began to demolish her flapjacks and ended up layering two more.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss drank two more cups of coffee, these without additions from the flask, and the final one black and hot from the bottom of the pot. He then took two flapjacks from the stack, wrapped them in a muffling rag that he had not used, and tucked them away in the possibles bag. Then, he went to the coffee can, took out of the possibles bag and opened up an empty cap tin, and put three pinches of coffee in the tin. He screwed the lid back on the cap tin, and put the coffee can back where he found it, putting the tin back in his possibles bag as well. he placed the tin next to the package of jerky, still unfinished, in the bottom of the bag.

He then walked out into the corridor to stretch his legs a bit.

[Stella Gaslight]

Angel made a high pitched happy noise and dug in to the jam. "Thank you Patrick." She said with a grin.  Cain was treated to sticky kisses but he didn't seem to mind much.  Emma had cooked much but eaten little until George forced her to sit down with the others.  "Did everyone check their cold weather and wet gear?" She asked between bites of a pancake and sausage sandwich.  The last thing they needed was for someone to get hurt before the battle even started.

[Nigel Wetherby]

"I got it all on me bed Em, ye needn't worry about me or Jen. We'll be fine, we ain't as human as we used to be!" He chuckled as if it were all some otherworldly joke. Jen found his lightheartedness on the matter consoling.

Cain wiped a streak of stickyness off his cheek and licked it off his finger. The jam seemed even sweeter off his cheek. He kissed Angel's cheek in return for her sticky sighns of affection.

[Stella Gaslight]

"You have the second generation microwave gun charged right?  I rigged a coil gun up for you but I wasn't able to make as much ammo as I would like. It is waiting for you in the lab."  Emma was very nervous so she threw herself in to getting things ready work helped keep the mind busy and a busy mind didn't think of the odds against them.   

Angel very carefully saved a few bites of jam for Cain.  "For you." She smelled like syrup and jam and somehow that was better than any of the perfumes in Paris to Cain.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Cain hapilly swallowed the sweet spoonful of jam. He licked his lips, letting the sweet razzberry goo dance across his tounge and warm his entire body.  He coudln't help but smile as he savored the jam like a fine wine.

"Emma, there's no need ta worry about any of that weapon stuff." Patrick said dissmissively, waving his hand  as if he were shooing some invisible fruitfly.
"I've taken me precautions. All tha guns are loaded, all tha gear is primed, all tha armor is fitted and scraps has been fed!"

[Stella Gaslight]

"I am sorry for pestering you Patrick. I am just a little scared but I suppose that is just to be expected."  The Boheme started to descend and Emma watched the frozen swamp rise around them as they slowed to a stop. Emma took a deep breath and stuck her chin out.  "I guess we are here."  She could her calls from the ships around them and she saw One dive gracefully from the top of the ship to the frozen ground.  There was no turning back now.

[MWBailey]

"Emma, even I have the wet gear on," said Dreyfuss. "Thats quite an accomplishment, getting an old bayou rat like me to wear rubber covers over my regular boots." the others chuckled slightly. "Do we split up, Patrick, go with the aether league folks, or stay together?"

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha awoke and realized that he'd fallen asleep beside Ella. He smelt food. He wasn't hungry. He moved softly out of the bed and opened the small chest. Everything was there. Prepared for this final hour. He put on his armour, buckling the light protection tight. Then his coat, which was becoming more and more ragged and torn. That only seemed to add to it's fearsomeness. Then he placed his gashelm on slowly and carefully. His revolver in his coat. His smoke bombs. Then the rifle. He cleaned it, checked it. He then set to sharpening the bayonet as he looked down at the ground. There was nothing moving.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Captain hudson tapped the side of his teacup with a silver fork.
"Before we all head out into our certain doom....I'd like to say you all are easily the best crew a Captain could ask for.
Emma, your modifications and inventions have made this ship something I never beleived I would have the privelage of piloting.
Patrick, you're insane, gung-ho, and have risked your life on multiple occaisons to save your friends. It was an honor to have you behind my guns.
Elisha, you fight like the best of them, and no matter what, metal legs or not you are a damn fine soldier.
Dreyfuss, you're just the seasoned military proffessional these kids need, try not to lead them into the maw of death.
Ella, Jen, You two need to make sure these lot dont bleed out before they cut that fat old bint if a queen to bits!
Cain, Angel, You two have made me beleive that if a pair of constructs can fall in love, anything can happen."

Patrick smirked and stood up.
"Whelp boys...Let's smash some glorified squid!" He slammed his fist into the table like a viking cheering for Odin before a battle.

[Stella Gaslight]

Out side the ship was a buzz with activity. They had been quite lucky and the lingering morning mists concealed the ships quite nicely until they could properly camouflage them.   The air outside was bone chilling and still everything felt full of waiting.  Part of the fleet was going to come in later when they had breached the surface to add as much chaos to the Cold ones defense as possible.  Trip had been working on a image displacer to help them avoid the eyes of the blackfly swarms that filled the air around the city and as far as all the tests went it worked perfectly.  The longer they could keep the element of surprise the better.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

Elisha looked at the walls of St. Petersburg. What a location for a city. He had heard that hundreds of peasants died to make this city real. They still lay beneath the swamp. God knew what lay now within the city. He shouldered his rifle and looked at it. There was no movement what-so-ever.

------

The Omarsmerti battalion moved under Europe. Soon they would cross under the channel. Then the fun could begin.

[MWBailey]

Dreyfuss pulled out the spyglass he had taken from the dead aether league traitor in shanghai. It was a beauty, and must have cost the fellow a small fortune -- if in fact he had paid for it. It was made with an integral shade that slid out over the objective lens in front, so that no light from above or below or either side could reflect from it and alert the person who was being observed.

He scanned the wall amd ramparts of the Tsar's city, once considered the holiest city in the East of Christendom. Those outlying star forts were a bother; if they were manned, it would make crossingthe marshes next to impossible in broad daylight. He saw no movement that he could discern in any of them, and their flagpoles were bare and looked as if they had not been used in years.

"Elisha," he said,"your scope's bound to be more powerful; you see any movement in the defensive works?" he said as he pocketed the spyglass and pulled on his gloves.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Patrick's eyes narrowed through his goggles as he examined the city. From what he could see, those who walked the streets were naught but a sea of blue.
Patrick hefted his trusty leather satchel, within it were several spare parts from weaponry and engines. He would never know when they might come in handy. A pair of rifles were crossed upon his back like twin claymores, one glowed a faint blue with aetheric energy, the other was decorated with ancient runes. His eyes searched readily for any entrance to the sewers. He soon came across a circular grate in the side of the wall.
"Damn it's been barred off! How do we get in without attracting attention?" Patrick sneered, yanking at one of the steel bars.

Cain stepped foreward, extending a single Deus blade. With a series of deliberate cuts, he cleared away the bars, allowing entrance into the sewers.



The army of Tinker's row awaited the Diggers. With Shai at the core of their tactic, Aether Leaguers and neutral madboys alike set up all matter of trap and trick for their unwelcomed guests.
Madame Arachne gave a venomous smirk as the last of her girls layed the last of their little "presents"

The diggers were upon london, evil grins were carved upon the faces of each pilot as they fantasised about the cries of the dying human scum. Their fantasies were cut short as a panicked transmission came from one of the Diggers at the front.
"Sir! We're under attack!! The enemy is using some sort of  GAAAA- *KHHHHHHHHHKKK*"
The confidence of the army was suddenly shaken by the morbid final message. However, there was little time to reflect the message as one by one, the diggers began to drop like flies.

[Stella Gaslight]

Shai defended humanity not because Madame Arachne asked her to but because she was beginning to rather like the world she was inhabiting.  Arachne was just as sarcastic as Shai herself was but she also took care of her girls.  Shai had not expected to be treated as anything more than a servant but Arachne made sure she was well taken care of even going so far as to look for a specialist try and rebuild her broken wing.  Shai would protect them because they deserved it for their kindness.

The St. Petersburg sewers were far quieter than the ones they traveled in Paris.  The water was slow moving and it seemed like many of the pipes hadn't been used in quite a while.  Emma had the rather disturbing question of how the cold ones used the bathroom pop up in her head and frowned, their were some things man was not meant to know.

[Nigel Wetherby]

Madame Arachne grinned as columns of smoke rose from the cobbles of tinker's row. The mines were designed by a particularly bright one of her girls by the name of Marybelle who devised the idea of magnetically triggered explosives that clung to the armor of the tanks. Madame Arachne had to admit, it was the smartest thing she had heard a girl dressed in a scant "Little bo peep" Costume say. She placed a pale, slip of a hand on Shai's shoulder.
"I've found a pair of nice young men who've agreed to fix your wings. Their names were Orville and Wilbur I beleive."

Patrick inhaled and quickly regretted this action.
"By DeVinci's beard!" He clapped a hand over his nose. The stench was that of rotting cold-one flesh bonding with the stangant water of the sewers, creating a black, foul sludge. Patrick was glad he had donned his wet--gear before he went into the swamp. He pulled a gas mask from his bag and quickly slipped it on, inhaling and exhaling a releived breath. Scraps took up residence in Patrick's bag, refusing to step into the squalid grey muck.

[Vancouver Air Privateer]

The digger fleet began to spread out underground, the streets of Tinker's Row shaking. They'd determined that this was not an opportune place to strike. Soon they began to emerge, in a ring around the Row. Russian soldiers and smaller diggers began to deploy. As well, on the horizon, the last part of the Russian Airship fleet could be seen coming in.

There was a tremendous crash as one digger's head was smashed down. The Hattori Hanzo still patrolled the skies. Even though it was one airship, it would fight to the end.

In the streets, the Russians looked ready to overwhelm the populace. Suddenly, there was a hail of bullets forcing the Russians back. There were scattered cheers in Italian. The mob and Papa Gianni had kept their promise, despite the odds. Madboys and Aetherleage members from around the world clashed in the streets.

Above, The Hanzo realized that it was seriously overwhelmed. The Russian Air Fleet was by far the most massive in the World, with ships from Eastern Europe to China. The Hanzo had not come unprepared. The Air Fleet of Japan clashed in the burning sky above Britain. But it stood alone - the air fleet of Britain was long crippled by sabotage and suberfuge. They were losing ground in the air...

Suddenly, Captain Kei got a transmission.

"Need some help?" came the voice.

"Captain Canning?" inquired Kei, with a grin. "I thought you no longer privateered."

"Nope. Now I lead. Royal Pacific Air Navy, standing by."

"You are brave. But we would need hundreds more airships to tip this balance."

"Hmm. I do think some others want to join the fun."

Suddenly, the radio was filled with multiple transmissions coming from all across the sky. Elisha had done his part in organizing this assembly. Britain was falling - but it's Empire was far from ended.

"The North-West Airborne Police, standing by!", "Metis Nomad Squadron, ready to hunt!", "The Royal Canadian Air Force, sah! God Save the Queen!", "The Upper Canada Armoured Fist Air Division is ready to strike! Full steam ahead!", "C'est le League D'Air de Quebec. Nous sommes pres!", "Hey. This is the Captain of the Green Bastard. The rest of the The Atlantic Airman's Guild is ready as well!"

Cheering broke out on the Hanzo as even more allied fleets joined the fight.

"Aye, The Royal Flying Engineers o' Scotland are here to wreak havoc!"

"Dual Norwegian Navy, incoming to aid our allies."

"Royal Fleets of South Africa, New Zealand, Australia and India will be with you shortly! Hold on a bit!"

Then, there was one last transmission.

"Say. Can y'all hold on a bit longer? If you can keep 'em off London for a few more hours - The United States Air Fleet is coming. No way these Russkie's will last against this!"

More privateers, mercenaries and subjects and allies of the crown sped towards London. The tables had suddenly and firmly flipped.

------------------

Elisha looked over the parapets as they entered the sewers.

"Not much resistance on the walls." he muttered. "But those anti-air guns look well defended. Those need to be taken out."

[Nigel Wetherby]

"Which is where we come in, lads." Patrick said with a confident smirk. "If we clear out those towers, the ships will clear out the streets." Patrick drew his heat-round loaded rifle and stood at the head of the crew like a steely Seregant.
His stride was broken by the sound of a revolver's click.
"Stop where you are, mercenaries. I don't care if the tzar himself hired you, we will never surrender!"
A tall, dark-haired man awaited them within the shadows. Behind him was a small group of ragged men and women. All of them wore heavy black coats and red-lensed goggles.

Madame Arachne raised a fist into the air as she lead the charge of the madboys of tinker's row.
"KNOWLEDGE ETERNAL!" She cried, clutching an aetheric revolver in her hand as she fired a smouldering hole into the chest of a russian soldier.