Episode 11: Events In Kanoba

The team is finding it hard in Syrtis Major. For all the adulation and society shindigs, there are also demonstrations of angry locals, threats from Ground Cleanser fanatics and increasing official coolness.

So when the oportunity comes to undertake a short trip to Haatt, a city to the north of Syrtis Major, they raise steam and sail away from their troubles, carrying a Foreign Office official and his dispatches to Colonel Harrison, commander of the garrison.

In Haatt the team, along with their new acquaintence, are put up in guest quarters overnight, prior to leaving on a new mission from Colonel Harrison. That night a disorganized but dangerous mob of Martians attack the house, setting it afire with improvised fire bombs.

This attack proves to be a diversion so that an assassin could attempt gain entry from the rear. Unfortunately from him, the team are alerted and managed to defend themselves, wounding the assassin badly.

As they prepare to overcome him he disappears in a blaze of green light. Before he vanishes, the team notice a distinctive sigil on the armor over his chest. The presumed death of the Assassin leads the rest of the Martian mob to retreat and disperse, just as reinforcements arrive from the city garrison.

The next day Colonel Harrison calls the team into his office and explains that he has a job for them, a job that requires men of proven calibre and mettle. It also doesn't hurt that they have their own steam transport.

200 miles away, north along the canal, lies the town of Kanoba. The garrison there has gone quiet, with no word from them for days. Merchants report dead bodies scattered around the outskirts. Colonel Harrison suspects the worse, but wants confirmation and also to contact the local mayor for an update as to the situation. Colonel Harrison suspects Shastapsh military action, or possibly Ground Cleanser trouble.

The team set off in the Persephone and are attacked midway through their journey by a Kite and its piratical crew. Bold action on the part of the Team, the trusty Steam Gattling Gun and the Persephone's crew save the day and the Kite is left a pile of wreckage on the sands of Mars.

Kanoba shows itself to be a ghost town. Docking the Persephone the team disembark and begin working their way down the mast ramp, only to come upon two corpses being devoursed nby foul Durge Flies.

Though Durge Flies are a known irritant anywhere there is carrion lying about, these Durge Flies are larger and behave more agressively. Luckily, Wilhelm's trusty glue gun proves a match for the menace and the flies are removed with extreme prejudice.

Descending to ground level the team are startled to see packs of agressive, over-sized Roogies, Martian wolf-like creatures, wandering the eerily deserted compound. Roogies are a nuisance at any time, but these look very large and behave ... oddly.

Wilhelm and Waldmont correctly assess the situation - the animals are infected with the dread Red Sands corruption!

By means of stealth and guile the team are able to avoid the Rogie menace and make entry into the Mayor's mansion, where they discover only corpses. However, in a closet they find a small girl, still alive - the Mayor's daughter!

She clutches a letter in her hands that explain much of what went before. The team are resolute: They must return this poor waif and her father's letter to the authorities in Haatt!

Making a desparate flight back to the Persephone as maddened Roogie packs catch scent of the party and give murderous chase, the team are able to retreat from the madness of Kanoba and return to Haatt, there to place their evidence into "the right hands" and commend the care of the Mayors charming little girl to Colonel Harrison.

Episode 10: Five Times Is The Charm

And so Wilhelm and Waldmont began the tedious process of resupplying at the nearest British-friendly port, Noorlan, after first landing and securing the screw galley they had been planning to use as a cargo barge in a convenient gully in the mountains and hills outside Bordobaar.

Noorlan is probably best described as a powder keg. It has a fairly large British population, but the vast majority of the people are Martian and they resent Earth's increasing presence and Britain's increasing influence (or as some would have it "meddling in local affairs"). The human presence there is also multi-national.

First order of business was to secure some sort of breathing apparatus, but Wilhelm simply could not see how the job might be done with the materials at hand. Red-faced, he finally decided to enlist the help of a third party, and a little bit of research turned up an enterprising inventor for hire, who was promptly hired to do the job. He took payment up front and agreed to have the respirators ready in two days.

Accommodation was arranged for the intervening time in the local branch of The Explorer's Club, seemingly run by one Smedley Carlton-Smythe who clearly enjoyed the comforts of home - if they came in a bottle - but seemed to know a lot about the local area despite being heroically plastered. The crew of the Persephone were given two days liberty.

It was around this time that Ms Myles decided to part company with the heroes, citing urgent business elsewhere, and Wilhelm and Waldmont were far too busy acquiring supplies of salt and acid and a rather nifty liftwood cargo lifter to fully appreciate the situation developing around them. It seemed the crew had been a trifle indiscreet in their celebrating a spot of "shore leave", and one of them went AWOL. A search for him turned up empty, so a replacement was hired and the ship made ready while Wilhelm and Waldmont went to pick up their new respirators.

As they turned the corner to the workshop they saw a sight that made them duck back and observe from cover. A large party of what were clearly German sailors led by an officer were loading a handcart with what looked suspiciously like the respirators already paid for by our heroes! The Englishmen opted to let the Germans depart unmolested on the grounds that there were an awful lot of them and Noorlan was already a ticklish place to be. After the Germans had left the heroes confronted the inventor who was unrepentant. He refunded the money paid and ordered the Englishmen off his property.

The heroes then saw the majestic sight of an enormous airship lifting from the city and setting out in what was unmistakably the direction of Bordobaar. Obviously, news of the treasure was out! They returned to the explorer's society where they were cornered first by an official from the Colonial Office angrily demanding to know if they were the ones who had started the "gold rush", then by Smedley Carlton-Smythe, who was three sheets to the wind and shouting gleefully about treasure and setting out on an expedition himself with his friends!

Racing back to the Persephone Wilhelm and Waldmont ordered the ship to set out at once for Bordobaar, but as steam was being raised two small kites were seen rising from their moorings to give chase to the already distant German airship, and not long after that a steam yacht overflowing with rather loud men rose unsteadily to follow the flotilla.

Eventually the Persephone was able to get underway, and after not too long the crew spotted the tail lights of the German airship in the distance. They were distracted by the sight of the steam yacht gracefully crashlanding in the steppes outside Noorlan, spilling drunken would-be treasure seekers all over the place but otherwise causing remarkably little damage and no casualties that could be seen from Persephone's deck.

Not long after the crash the Persephone came under attack from a small kite, presumably one of the two that had set out a short time earlier. The attackers were driven off by particularly effective use of the steam Gatling gun and the Persephone continued on her way, unmolested.

The flight to Bordobaar was uneventful after the run in with the kite, and in the early hours of the morning they were flying over the outskirts of ancient, ruined Bordobaar, the German airship clearly visible anchored a half mile or so away.

The heroes decided that the Persephone should moor in the outskirts, and that they should make their way on foot through the now-deserted streets to the site of the palace, there to make a recce of the situation. Thiis was accomplished in about two hours, and they discovered the airship moored high above the palace, with a lowered cargo gondola sitting in the plaza with two indolent German guards securing it from would-be thieves.

These guards were put out of action and stashed inside the gondola, which the heroes caused to be winched up into the airship by operating the signal bell. Springing out of the raised gondola, the winch attendants were soon lying unconscious alongside their comrades and the heroes were abroad inside the German airship!

This was an education for the pair, never having seen such a vessel before, and they marveled over the lightweight aluminium structure and the huge bags of monohydrogen that provided the lift. They made their way to the midships cabin structure and did some more exploring, but were surprised by a contingent of the crew who, after a furious sword fight, cornered them behind a flimsy lightweight door in a cabin with flimsy, lightweight walls.

Waldmont was badly wounded, suffering severe damage to a rather delicate area a gentleman would not mention in mixed company, but was brought back from the brink by Wilhelm's swift action with his miracle of science Healing Machine (the name of which escapes your humble scribe), only for the attacks on the door to be renewed by a German officer imperiously pounding on it and demanding unconditional surrender of all parties at once.

Naturally, this was judged a good time for Waldmont to break out his trusty elephant gun, but his first shot merely plowed into the ceiling instead of into the crowd behind the door as planned.

Further shots were exchanged, whereupon the monohydrogen leak caused by that first shot's passage through several gasbags was ignited by a spark from a firearm and the whole airship burned in a spectacular wreck.

How Waldmont and Wilhelm got out alive is a wonder, but they were able to limp away from the now incandescent wreck with only severe burns. Staggering back to the Persephone they weakly croaked that they needed hospital treatment before passing out.

And so the Persephone made once more for the dubious refuge of Noorlan.

The heroes were hospitalised, Waldmont for four weeks, Wilhelm for six, but each made a full recovery, at least, according to the doctors. Wilhelm would ever after harbor a dread of being caught in a fire, and Waldmont would shudder when he thought back on the terrible injury he had suffered and so luckily survived.

For want of wonder the crew had not deserted, or run back to Ponsonby with his private gunboat. Perhaps their loyalty was not of the common run. Perhaps they were in secret admiration for the two adventurers. Perhaps they reasoned that Ponsonby would not share the treasure (now rumoured aboard the Persephone to be as much as two tons) as readily as Waldmont and Wilhelm would. After all, you couldn't doubt the word of two such dogged adventure seekers, could you?

Perhaps Professor Grant and Miss White simply threatened them with the consequences of desertion or piracy (which was, baldly put, what we would be talking about when all was said and done in front of a British Magistrate). Who can say?

And when Waldmont could walk without swinging his legs in a wide circle in memory of his long-cured wounds, and when Wilhelm could pass a street vendors cart and not scream at the smell of roasting Gashant meat, the Persephone once again set off for the journey to Bordobaar, her fifth transit between Noorlan and the ruined city. The crew were stern faced and went about their duties with a quiet efficiency that perhaps lacked their former bonhomie and casual badinage at each others' expense. The scientists kept mostly to their cabins and said little to anyone else. The adventurers simply watched the skies and the ground for any hint of offered violence.

The Persephone was a sombre ship on this, the fifth expedition to Bordobaar.

Upon entering the airspace above the ruins, the crew and passengers of the Persephone could see the wreck of the German airship, now just a twisted, blackened frame, and that of a small Martian kite, probably one of the two that had set off after the airship so many weeks before. There were no signs of life at either wreck, which surprised no-one.

An examination of the palace plaza showed no survivors, nor signs of a struggle, but the palace itself was another story, and a pitched battle for survival had obviously been fought at the lip of the vertical shaft. The Germans had erected a sandbag fortification and a maxim gun there, but the whole thing had obviously been overrun, with sandbags thrown hither and yon and the Maxim gun damaged and sitting in a small sea of brass cartridges.

There were no bodies.

The team set up their winch and descended the shaft. There they found that some of the German team had attempted to take refuge in the domed room with inevitable consequences. Corpses in horrible states of dismemberment littered the sand now.

But there, by the door, were the crates of respirators and filters built at the team's direction and stolen by base trickery and sharp dealing. But the British lads would have the last laugh on the German swine and that bounder of an inventor!

Wilhelm repeated his cunning plan of the previous attempt on the treasure room, killing the worm again (to the extent that it could be killed at any rate) before salvaging all the equipment. At last, things were beginning to run according to plan. Not before time, he thought grimly.

After cleaning the insides of the respirators to remove any traces of the vile Red Sands contamination, the team donned them and, in about six days, had emptied the treasure room of all its coins, plate, statuary, crowns and sundry other forms of gold, rich civilisations for the decoration and reputation enhancement of. Bordobaar was no longer a myth, and no longer a treasure waiting to be looted.

While the team worked that first day, the crew were dispatched in the Persephone to recover the screw gally/barge which was where they had left it and in decent condition once some sand was cleaned out of the liftwood trim panels. The gold was split between the barge and the Persephone so that any further acts of piracy by perfidious Martians, thieving foreigners or even opportunistic Red Captains would be less catastrophic than if he barge alone were used and then were cut free. Once the gold was on show to one and all there were fewer arguments, though Professor Grant said he would never get used to the sight of the stoker shoveling gold coins as though they were nuggets of coal.

In truth the Professor was aghast at this sort of treatment of the treasure. There were, he said, examples of coins that were struck several thousand years ago, with a much higher value than their worth in avoirdupois measure. But once he had picked out a couple of dozen of the best examples he seemed to calm down.

Of other interest were the statuary, jewelry and crowns, which would be welcome additions to the British Museum and handsome gifts to the various princes who would require pacification once news of this find got out.

And so, finally, the crew of the Persephone wended their way back to Syrtis Major, where their arrival caused a sensation, a drop in the price of gold and several political crises. Both Waldmont and Wilhelm would become fabulously rich as a result of this find, even though the vast majority was claimed by the crown and no small amount by various Martian princes and governments.

Wilhelm used some of his new wealth to buy and refit the Persephone. Half the crew voted to stay on, but half returned to the service of Lord Ponsonby, who looked on with nonchalant countenance but offered his most heartfelt congratulations on the expedition's success and seemed to hold no grudge.

The Colonial Office and the Governor's Office each had certain requirements when it came to the disposition of the treasure, the happy resolution of which put both in the adventurers' debt in the intangible way such things are done. Favours owed and all that.

The adventurers were of course sought after as guests to all the best dinner parties, and their social status increased as a result. Now all that ugly business with Martians claiming brutality was all-but forgotten, and most definitely forgiven by everyone. Everyone who mattered, at any rate.

And that is how the Legendary Treasure of Bordobaar was found, pinched and spent.

Episode 9: A Dangerous Threat Eliminated But A New Setback Suffered

The team made a foray into the pit, only to discover a large domed room containing mounds of what looked like gold and a central lake of ominously dark liquid. Leaning against the mountain of gold coins, necklaces, statuary and so forth was a familiar-looking red cylinder.

Driven by the wholesome desire to explore and not at all by base notions of more gold than Croesus had dreamed of, the team ventured into the domed room and split up to explore.

A sad mistake.

For the lake turned out to contain a foul, gigantic worm-like beast that attacked without preamble, driving Wilhelm and Miss Myles back into the shaft, driving Professor Grant and Miss White back against the dome walls and marooning poor Wilmont on the pile of treasure he was investigating with a scholarly eye.

Nothing seemed to harm the beast but eventually Grant and Miss White were able to escape with their lives, the worm sunk back into the loathsome pool and Wilmont was able to tip-toe from the scene without further enraging the foul beast.

The scientists of the expedition conferred together and came to the conclusion that perhaps the worm might be susceptible to salt in large enough amounts, so once again the team departed for their nearest source of supplies and procured several hogsheads of salt, along with a quantity of acid and glass bowls which were used by Wilhelm to fabricate acid grenades. All was loaded aboard the Persephone and once more the team journeyed to Bordobaar, where evidence of yet another failed expedition was seen strewn about the streets.

It seemed that the team had recent competition for the fabulous treasure. And scientific discoveries of course.

The team wasted no time at all in securing the Persephone and descending into the pit once more, armed with acid grenades and enough salt to pickle a herd of Venusian Brontostampi.

A desperate struggle then ensued, but the team persevered and prevailed against the worm, killing it - or so they thought at the time. This left them free to collect the gold unmolested and they got on with the salvage with a will.

It was after perhaps an hour that the first symptoms of sickness were seen in Professor Grant and Wilmont. Swift action by Wilhelm and his fabulous healing device saved both salvagers from almost certain madness and death, for it was obvious to all that the sickness produced the same hideous scabbing as that seen on the unfortunate legionaries of Fort Oublié!

It was deduced that the atmosphere inside the room was contaminated in some way, likely with some form of the dastardly Red Sands. That cylinder leaning on the mountain of gold? Could that be to blame?

Wilmont and Wilhelm suggested that perhaps what was needed was some sort of suit with a self contained atmosphere, perhaps a modified diving suit, inside which those tasked with the salvage could work in comparative safety. Of course, strict care would have to be taken to avoid contamination.

Almost as an afterthought, Professor Grant announced that the samples of worm tissue he had procured from the "dead" beast were showing regenerative signs, suggesting that perhaps the animal might - if not actually dead - revive to plague them further.

It was with this dispiriting news - along with imprecations and demands that the sample be carefully watched less a new worm grow from it - that the Persephone steamed back toward civilization, shrugging off the attentions of an importunate Martian Pirate with judicious use of the steam-powered Gatling gun on the foredeck.

Episode 8: A Meeting In The Desert, And A New Adventure

The team, battered but unbloody, was flying back toward Syrtis Major with Lord Ponsonby in his Steam Yacht Persephone when they spotted the wreck of a medium-sized Kite¹. Swooping down they noted that the ship had broken its back, and was partially buried in the red Martian sand, and there were 20 or 30 Martians, presumably crew, who were milling about the relatively undamaged bow in what seemed a somewhat aimless mob.

Our heroes headed up a landing party and approached from the bow, only to realize there were people inside the cabin at the bow, and that the Martians were attempting hostile action against whoever it was. They grappled a rope to the deck and climbed up, discovering two ladies climbing out of a deck hatch/skylight, and a few Martian crew scrambling up the ladders onto what had been the Foc'sl of the once-graceful queen of the skies.

The two heroes took one look at the advancing Martians and immediately recognized their crazed glare, the blisters on their skin, and once alerted to the danger, the color of the skin. These poor sailors had all been infected with the Red Sands malady, last seen in Libya, when they had encountered the dread, murderous remnants of the garrison of of Fort Oublié.

A brief attempt at defense showed the essential hopelessness of victory over the masses, so the team evacuated the ladies to the Persephone and resumed their course to Syrtis Major. Lord Ponsonby's steward served a well-deserved Pimm's to everyone as they got acquainted and accommodations abord the Persephone were rearranged.

The newcomers were Miss Fortescue and Miss Myles. The two gave account of how they came to be in the desert, which included a rendezvous with a second Kite, a mysterious hooded Martian who gave something to the captain and the subsequent strange disease that ravaged the crew, causing the two travelers to take refuge in the foc'sl of the ship. The story would have seemed a trifle exaggerated but for the fact that both ladies were members of the Explorers Club and therefore of unimpeachable trustworthiness.

Returning to Syrtis Major Wilhelm and Waldmont gave their version of events to an official at the Colonial Office. Said official, after conferring with Miss Fortescue and Miss Myles, requested that the team give aid to a couple of scientists also bearing Explorers Club credentials, Doctor Charles Grant and his assistant, Miss Elizabeth White. The colonial officer was eager to encourage the team to provide the aid the scientosts were requesting, which involved organizing an expedition to the fabled ruined city of Bordobaar.

Wilhelm and Waldmont were not at that time aware that Bordobaar had been laid waste by a "Black Plague" that reportedly devastated Mars in the distant past. Grant and White claim to have unearthed pottery in Babylonia with Vulcan hieroglyphs that mention the plague.

Certain people in authority are keen that the expedition take place, and can put a rather dilapidated but perfectly airworthy screw galley at their disposal. The prospect of cranking six hours a day to power this craft once owned by Martians and powered by slaves did not appeal to the team and they decided to enlist the aid of Lord Ponsonby. Hiss Lordship was not, however, disposed to join yet another expedition that would involve several days of travel in some of the most contested skies of Mars, and declined to join the venture or offer the services of Persephone.

Then something curious happened. Miss Fortescue begged a private audience with Lord Ponsonby, and within 15 minutes the Persephone and her crew were once again at the disposal of the team with, apparently, no expenses incurred. Miss Fortescue swept up Miss Myles and, leaving the men slack-jawed at events, went shopping to replace luggage lost when they evacuated the Kite.

The flight to Boordobaar was long, tedious and meandering, requiring long detours to avoid the worst contested airspaces, and even so the Persephone encountered a hostile Kite, and some hostile natives. All these were more in the nature of breaks in the tedium than real threats and were easily dispatched or evaded. Eventually, however, the Persephone was steaming over the ruins of the immense, desolate, deserted city of Bordobaar.

The ship landed near a building pointed out by Doctor Grant, and the team entered to explore. The building had a voluminous interior, but was in a sad way, with columns tumbled and lying in slices like giant fluted wheels. behind one such Waldmont and Miss Myles found a long corridor with small rooms lying off each side.

Meanwhile, Wilhelm and Miss Fortescue had located a vertical shaft that looked promising. Unfortunately, it was 300 feet deep and the original elevator mechanism was long fallen to rust. There were very old signs of other attempts to descend and the plucky pair felt that if there were really treasure to be had, this evidence was good enough to warrant a sortie of their own. At this point their cogitations were interrupted.

Investigating the rooms with the aid of lanterns, there being no windows and hence no natural light to see by, Waldmont and Miss Myles found that they seemed full of rags. It was in the second or perhaps third such room that Waldmont realized the rags were some sort of nest that he and Miss Myles were attacked by what was presumably the owner, a fearsome brute of bestial mien and extremely short temper.

A desperate battle then ensued, with the beast easily avoiding the attacks Walmont and Miss Myles directed at it. The rest of the team were drawn to the sounds of battle and therefore were able to defend against the arrival of several similar beasts, ape-like Martian brutes, while the team fell back to the large hall, barely escaping with their lives. Rolling one of the sections of stone from a fallen column over the entrance to he corridor proved enough to prevent the beasts following, but upon exiting to the streets of Bordobaar the team were dismayed to hear roars coming from the ruined buildings all around.

A quick return to the Persephone was enacted, and the ship taken up as the boiler was brought up to full power. Sailing over the now teaming streets of the city, the team could clearly see the remains of other, less fortunate exploration parties, with destroyed encampments and places where the ground was littered with brass shell casings. Clearly several desperate (and ultimately futile) last stands had taken place in the ruins of the ancient city.

The ship anchored at height outside the old city limits and the explorers and scientists met to plan an exploration of the shaft. It was decided to return to civilization and scare up a small steam powered winch with which to raise and lower a small, two person platform the 300 feet. The idea was to build something that could be deployed and used, then brought back to the ship before night fell. No-one though it would be a good idea to leave the equipment where the beast-things could get at it, given what they had seemingly done to the equipment of previous, lost parties.

This was done at the nearest city with human engineering capability, and the Persephone returned to Bordobaar with their steam winch elevator, some rather ingenious lamps with powerful lenses fitted, and the excitement of all at the prospect of finding the fabled treasure of Bordobaar.

1. 'Kite' is the nearest English translation for the Parhooni and Oenotrian names for Martian aerial flying sailing ships↑

Episode 7: An Encounter With A Martian Scholar, And An Expedition To A Lost Temple

Wilhelm and Waldmont were enjoying rehabilitated reputations in Syrtis Major, and were wandering the more "authentic" byways of the town near the Royal Palace when they came upon two toughs roughing up an elderly Martian. Naturally they intervened and fought off the attackers, rescuing the old Martian, who claimed to be one Queeleek Thorshian, a scholar of Old Mars.

Queeleek spoke broken English by preference, and expressed his thanks to Wilhelm and Waldmont, telling them that he had discovered a great secret, something that would be very illuminating of Martian history, of great worth to scholars, and that he would very much like to show his new friends the proof over a cup of something that didn't make the translation but was hopefully the Martian tea that the Earthmen had found so palatable. The two adventurers accompanied the old man home, whereupon they discovered his megre hovel had been well and truly trashed. Clearly the work of someone looking for something valuable. It looked as though tea would have to wait.

Queeleek was distraught for a few minutes, then recovered himself and showed that he had the most valuable of his "proofs" on his person; pot shards and scraps of paper, all extremely timeworn and fragile, wrapped in a leather roll of ingenious design. Queeleek treated these almost with religious reverence as he explained that they described the "Hills of Kings" which he believed were a reference to the Aerian Hills, a well-known feature of the somewhat local Aerography¹.

Clearly depicted on the scraps of material was a temple, which Queeleek called the "no-name temple". He went on to explain that the temple was depicted as above the water of the long-gone sea in which the Aerian Hills once sat as islands. He said he knew where this temple must be and asked for help getting there.

As the adventurers and Queeleek discussed matters, a bottle was tossed into the house and when it broke a terrible conflagration engulfed that part of the house. Seconds later the front door was engulfed in unpassable flames as it too became the target of an improvised terror weapon. Deciding that discretion was definitely the better part of valour in this case, Wilhelm and Waldmont used their mighty Earthman thews to break down the barricaded back door and effect escape for all into a back alley.

The adventurers decided that matters were such that they could not refuse to help the poor Martian scholar, and so they found him lodging at the Explorer's Club with only a few eyebrows raised, organized the loan of a steam launch, the Persephone, owned by Lord Ponsonby, a rich admirer of Esmerelda Bottoms and fellow member of the Explorer's Club, who was only too happy to step up and offer transport for a jolly good wheeze and the chance to spend some time with Miss Bottoms in a milieu in which she would have trouble avoiding him.

Miss Bottoms jumped at the chance of the expedition, firstly because as a scientist deeply concerned with archeological matters the notion of an ancient "lost" temple was too good to pass up, a literal once in a lifetime oportunity, and secondly because she found the attentions of Lord Ponsonby to be whatever the opposite of unwanted and unwelcome was. As she put it in her heliograph to her father: Daddy, the man has a steam launch at his beck and call and his so-called town house here in Syrtis Major is a positive mansion with a roof garden and a private reflecting pool in the atrium.

Lord Ponsonby's steam launch proved to be well up to the task at hand, having staterooms provisioned for exactly the number of travelers planned a small crew of well trained men who were in good spirits, and hidden under a plywood cover until out of sight of "meddlin' politicians and policemen", a steam-powered Gatling Gun mounted on the bow and able to commend a 180 degree sweep "if trouble came knocking at one's door".

Setting off the next day, they had an uneventful trip, arriving at the Aerian Hills with no trouble or interruption at all two days later. The novelty of a flight on a steam powered vessel soon wore off, and Ponsonby's attentions to Esmerelda were tiresome to at least one of our plucky team, but luckily Queeleek proved as good as his word and spotted the Dragon-Shaped outcropping he claimed would be there to guide them in once they arrived on station, and they were soon moored out of the strong winds that blew through the canyons in the escarpment.

There was a small delay while the team figured out the combination to the ancient entrance, then they were able to descend into a large cavern adorned with mosaics; pictures and hieroglyphs reminiscent of both Ancient Egyptian and Ancient Martian writing, though also unlike either. It took some time to make any sort of sense out of the story depicted on the walls but eventually they made out the story of a race rising from barbarous origins, building cities, engineering great technological wonders and then entering large, finned vessels, almost bomb-shaped. Throughout these tales were intervals of warfare, often of all-but total destruction of all parties, but always culminating in peace. It was amazing, Wilhelm and Waldmont agreed, what one could glean from a mosaic with just the right amount of incentive.

Speaking of incentive; all over the wall were studded tiny fragments of diamonds, and in the pictures toward the end of the story large rubies seemed to indicate power sources. Waldmont succumbed to temptation and prised out one ruby, only to discover that it was holding back a swarm of dreaded flesh-eating Tomb Beetles (an ever-present danger to looters of the dead on Mars)!

Once the initial horror and panic had subsided, the party discovered they could easily outpace one swarm while it concentrated on the unlucky Wilmot, and so they descended into the next vault, Wilmot finally winning free of the swarm and joining them. The new vault contained two rows of statues, each row facing the other. The statues appeared to be armoured warriors, and the only difference Wilhelm and Waldmont could see was that one side had purple gems for eyes and the other had emeralds. After the fiasco upstairs, it was decided not to mess with these sombre guardians of the stygian gloom of antiquity, and the party pressed on to a third, and final vault.

This proved to be a planetarium or orrery of sorts, with the planets represented by large globes floating and glowing next to a meandering causway. Below was a drop into the unseen chthonic depths of Mars. Each globe was coloured and decorated differently, with maps shown and important places depicted. The first globe was greenish, and had continents clearly shown with places marked with either green or purple markers. Queeleek opined that this was a depiction of Vulcan, the planet in Martian archeo-astronomy that broke up to form the asteroid belt. Mars was next, glowing red, with seas with ports and rivers depicted.

Queeleek spent only a short time one each globe, racing ahead of the party until he was standing by Mercury, when a deep, booming voice began speaking. Though none of the party recognised the language, it seemed to Wilhelm and Waldmont that it had elements of bith ancient Egyptian and High Martian, though neither had been exposed to those languages long enough to understand what was being said by the unseen locutor.

The party was just in the process of examining a curiously featureless earth bearing only one continent of no familiar shape, when in burst a large party of Martians, Kite sailors from the look of them, pirates from their demeanour. One individual of notable dress and bearing broke away from the pirates and seemed to be photographing first Vulcan, then Mars as a pitched battle began at long range, with the Earthmen and Martian pirates exchanging mostly ineffective fire while the unseen speaker droned on about God only knew what.

Finally, the pirates retreated at speed, taking their curious hooded friend with them. As the Party gave chase there was a terrible explosion and both Vulcan and Mars were badly damaged by what had looked like a time bomb. The lights in each orb began to extinguish and the voice changed in timbre. Then a terrible series of marsquakes began to shake the gallery to pieces. Queeleek, who had remained back by Mercury during the battle let out a shriek and fell from the causeway under a cascade of falling rock.

Wilhelm and Waldmont led the remains of the party out of the lowest vault and into the room of statues, which was empty, but the statues were rocking alarmingly and the ceiling was also threatening to give way under the terrible quaking. On they ran until they were back in the upper vault, where they saw that the remaining rubies were gone and the floor was scattered with dead pirates, still being eaten in some cases by the few remaining Tomb Beetles. A lesson for would-be robbers of the dead writ large. It looked as though the pirates had learned this lesson at greater cost than our friends.

Upon making the surface of Mars, our team discovered that their transport was absent, but were pleasantly surprised when it suddenly came chugging over the escarpment and dropped a boarding net, while the crew urged all to the utmost alacrity in availing themselves of their only means of escape.

As the Persephone fought for altitude against the winds kicked up by the marsquake, Lord Ponsonby rang for emergency power and maximum lift on the bridge telegraph, and then hurled himelf to the wheel where he joined the Helmsman wrestling for control of the ship against the elements in a world gone mad. As the ship swept toward certain collision with the cliffs, the escarpment collapsed, burying the site probably for all time. What a loss to the British Museum!

1. Martian geography↑

Diary Entry 3/2 Dr. James Wilhelm

Mars continues to both be a wondrous place and one of great turmoil and violence. After our excursion through the Martian desert and our interesting ship ride from Meepsoor to Syrtis Major, I figured things would settle down and I’d enjoy the sites. Sadly this has not been the case.

Upon arriving at Syrtis Major myself, Esmerelda, and Waldmont disembarked our ship and was met by Charles Ottway of the Colonial Office. He gave us a quick debrief about the goings on and upon mentioning the rebellion in Shastapsh, let us know that a new cruiser being built in the yard would deal with that problem. We also saw a ship powered by a steam engine heading towards the shipyard that Ottway looked at with some awe. He told us that the ship was Captain Bernaby’s, a leader among the Red Captains.

We were told the two best places to stay were either the Savoy or the Explorer’s Club located in the city. We opted for Explorer’s club for both monetary and information reasons. After trying to get rid of to no avail all the sand and dirt that had accumulated on my belongings and myself, Waldmont and I headed out to visit the sites. Now I was finally starting to feel like I could do what I do best, use my inventions to investigate and not get into a terrible amount of trouble.

We gave some talks at the Explorer’s club regaling our adventures thus far to our audience that seemed enthralled in our tales. We had finally found peace and went to bed for the first time comfortable and with little fear. Alas, this was but a short respite from the trouble that was right around the corner.

The following day we went to a place called the Sunset Tide for some Bhutan Tea and hoping to gather some information that would help Esmeralda. Of course much to my dismay we overhear some Martians discussing the new cruiser and blowing it up. I cannot understand why these Martians are so resistant towards some culture and civility being brought to their dying planet.

Waldmont and I realized we needed to do something to preserve the new ship, so we headed to the address we overheard, 2244 Old Harbor Road, after failing to find Ottway. We guessed correctly that the conspirators were in a room facing the Shipyard and Waldmont sneaked up to investigate. I eventually joined him and, using my incredible helm, heard the Martians speaking in High Oenotrian, discussing that their “Red Devil” allies were ready to move and that the English would be surprised.

We ended up engaging the 5 traitors to the crown. I’m beginning to think that instead of just being seen as an oddity my incredible inventions are making me a target. I received several wounds, as a result of which I was forced to take a swig of my grandfather’s ole cough medicine. Waldmont chastised me for doing such a thing but I did not see him with several bullet wounds.

We eventually forced the enemy to flee with 1 dying & 1 jumping out the window to his death, capturing one, and 2 escaping. We took our prisoner to the colonial office where we had to conduct the interrogation. Things quickly went sideways as the prisoner got out of his bonds when Waldmont went near them and attacked him. I went to block his escape and he tackled me. While we were grappling on the floor Waldmont came over and ended up killing the prisoner.

He is a big game hunter and well respected among the community but sometimes I wonder whether my compatriot has not spent a little too long out in the wild and among the beasts. His willingness to use lethal force so quickly and effectively does worry me on occasion.

Esmerelda walked in seeing Waldmont with a machete and me on the ground covered in Martian blood screamed and ran away. I hope someday she can realize it wasn’t my fault and we can work together again. Unfortunately we had even bigger problems now. The rumour of death of a local by British hands had spread faster than a fire ever could. We needed to proceed with caution.

A caution my compatriot was a little less willing to follow. He went to The Greenfield Inn to investigate and said he found where the conspirators’ main base of operations was. Apparently, his lack of caution paid off in this instance. Getting in without being noticed would be difficult but fortunately instead of using his blunt force trauma entrance I came up with an ingenious idea of using liftwood and some rope to allow us to enter through the window.

Others might have tried a ladder but I say liftwood is quieter than a creaking ladder, and also far more exhilarating.

Upon reaching the window we entered and much to my horror saw the traitors had built glider bombers. Something needed to be done and once again upon careful inspection using my Helm I was able to sabotage the release mechanisms and we left to find another way to ensure these rapscallions were properly confronted. To our surprise Captain Barnaby was still in port with a skeleton crew and was willing to aid us for Queen and Country.

Later that night we along with Captain Barnaby and his crew engaged the enemy in a light air confrontation. My sabotage worked perfectly not allowing a single bomb to fall upon the new cruiser and after several well placed shots by Waldmont and my own rifle aided once again by my Helm we had a special light show with bombs bursting in air.

We are not sure whether any of the conspirators made an escape or died upon crash landing. All I do know is Mars is a very interesting place and I assume more trouble will find us soon.

Dr. James Wilhelm

Interlude: More Martian Politics

So here we see the interplanetary scope of the maxim "The enemy of my enemy is my friend", with Irish separatists known as Fenians joining with Martian Ground Cleansers in a plot to destroy the almost-built pride of the British Martian Fleet.

The Fenians were founded in America in 1858, and trace their origins back to the uprsising of 1790. At this time Ireland is still unified under British rule, the Republic will not be founded for another two decades or so, but more tellingly, the Great Famine that ran in Ireland from 1845 until 1849 is still fresh in many memories of those who escaped the disaster and a source of lingering resentment and outright hatred for all things English. In game terms, the Fenians are a small but well-organized thorn in the side of British ambitions on Mars.

The Ground Cleansers are a different matter. Ground Cleanser sympathies can be found wherever Earthmen try and put down roots on Mars. The British of course are somewhat inured to the low-level resentment offered by many after decades of running a terrestrial empire where such feelings are always present in the native populations who have yet to properly assimilate into the far superior British Culture.

That said, the term Ground Cleansers is not just a viewpoint, but also a secret organization, a conspiracy if you will, to which many Martians belong. Rural villages have already proven to be hotbeds of Ground Cleanser activity (See: Episode 5: A Series of Unfortunate Events) so the players must game with a heightened awareness of eavesdropping and overwatch by unfriendly NPC forces.

And let's not forget rivalries between city states. Inter-city rivalry for trade, influence and resources is a powerful political backdrop for anyone traveling widely in the geography (areography?) of Mars. How safe is it for it to be known where one has traveled from when arriving in a new city?

We haven't touched on religion yet, either. The player characters have not been on Mars long enough to encounter a Martian religion in any way but as a piece of the local scenery as they walk about town, but it would be a mistake to believe that there are no rivalries between factions/schisms of whatever the Martians believe in. Of course, the British adventurer has always had a condescending approach to the religious beliefs of "the natives".

And then there is just plain prejudice to factor in. Are Martians less jingoistic or racist than Earthmen, not prone to knee-jerk reactions based on ludicrous factors like skin tone and toe/finger count? Are Martians racially incapable of xenophobia, or will that be a factor in future dealings with the locals for our team?

Isn't all this fun?

Episode 6: Adventures in Syrtis Major

The party was met at Syrtis Major by Mr Ottway, the Colonial Office functionary in charge of such matters, who led them along the bank, pointing out the shipyards, palace and other notable sights, across the bridge and into the British Quarter, and left them at the Explorer's Club with plans to meet for afternoon tea and a "chin-wag".

Wilhelm and Waldmont settled into their Explorer Club digs, and after being obliged to agree to giving an evening talk about their adventures so far, re-joined Ottway for tea in the Lyons Tea House - and very nice it was too. Ottway gave the two adventurers many useful pointers about conducting themselves in Martian Society (which was to say British Society on Mars of course). Ottway at one point became entranced and frothed extravagant praise for one flying vessel and its captain, on Captain Burnaby.

It didn't take the players long to find trouble. The next day they were lounging in a local hostelry, enjoying a fine Bhutan Tea, when they overheard two villainous Canal Martians plotting sabotage of the most mutinous stripe against the shipyard and the new aerial cruiser being built there. Mention was made of "our Red Devil allies" too. Clearly there were terrestrial traitors involved!

It was perhaps unfortunate that this was the point at which the two plotters spotted their eavesdropping observers and made a break for it. Waldmont gave chase but lost them in the crowd. Wilhelm and Waldmont attempted to find Ottway to sound the alarm, but he was busy and could not be disturbed. Clearly, this was a situation in which any true blooded Englishman would take the reins of destiny. Waldmont and Wilhelm were up to the task and not willing to be found wanting!

First port of call was the shipyard, there to warn the powers-that-be of the danger. However, the manager of the shipyard housing the new British aerial ship was quite dismissive and found tales of Martian perfidy to be risible. He grudgingly gave Wilhelm and Waldmont the run of the facility - with suitable safety warnings - but would not lift a finger to increase what he claimed were already adequate defenses.

After touring the shipyard, Wilhelm and Waldmont made their way to the address they had overheard one of the dastardly Martians mention, and found it to be the supposedly unused fourth floor of an ancient Martian tenement, a square building with a central courtyard and a spiral ramp giving access to the living quarters.

Waldmont used his almost legendary powers of stealth to approach the open window of the fourth floor apartment, discovering it to be full of Martian scum, plotting for all they were worth over some sort of large chart or map. They were speaking loudly enough for the master linguist to hear their plan to attack the shipyards with the aid of their "Red Devil" allies.

Realizing that the general Martian traffic on the street and in the courtyard offered no risk of being denounced Wilhelm decided to join Waldmont at the window. Indeed, the Martian pedestrians seemed to be ignoring him despite his eccentric headgear.

Once at the window it was clear action was required, and the two Earthmen leaped into action, bursting into the room and firing their weapons. They were met by return fire from black powder flintlock pistols, with one of the plotters breaking away to the window where he first destroyed the large drawing in a flash of fire, downed some sort of liquid from a small vial and then defenestrated himself.

The firefight was short and brutal, with wounds taken and give on both sides. By the end of it all but one Martian was either dead or fled. Wilhelm in particular suffered grievous wounds but was able to deploy his wondrous healing machine before he passed out.

It was perhaps the shock of the fierceness of the combat that distracted the intrepid pair and made them omit the precaution of securing the dead plotter who had leaped from the window, but this, they reflected later, had been an error in judgment. Who knows what the Martian had in his pockets?

They conducted their prisoner to the nearest police station, whereupon they began interrogating him. Unfortunately there was another lapse in judgement and Waldmont freed the prisoner, who - with nothing to lose - attacked so savagely that Waldmont was forced to defend himself with a machete, killing the Martian plotter.

Unfortunately, only the aftermath of this was witnessed by anyone, and the story soon raced like wildfire through not only the Martian community but also through polite British Society on Mars, with the result that both Wilhelm and Waldmont found themselves ostracised. It was a very poor show on many levels, but some useful information amongst the insults was recovered from the Martian before the violence had ended all communication for good.

Deciding that they now had nothing to lose themselves, Waldmont and Wilhelm attempted a recce of the Inn in which the aforementioned Red Devil Allies - none other than a cadre of disaffected Irishmen belonging to the Fenian conspiracy - were ensconced and plotting their own villainy!

Wilhelm came up with the idea of using a tethered liftwood bundle as an improvised miniature airship to allow Waldmont and him access to the inn's upper floor where the Fenians had set up a perimeter and presumably had something cooking.

This plan was wildly successful, and Waldmont and Wilhelm were able to effect entry at a time when no Fenians were in attendance. They discovered that the entire floor had been converted into a workshop, and that there were a number of liftwood-fitted one-man gliders were being built and fitted out to carry two 100 lb incendiary bombs apiece!

Wilhelm used his specialized knowledge and skills to sabotage the gliders' bomb release mechanisms, such that the gliders would appear normal but would be unable to shed their payload on command.

Then, enlisting the help of the Red Captain Burnaby, famous privateer and adventurer, they ambushed the Fenians as they flew over the shipyard, detonating the bombs with expert marksmanship. The sight of this spectacular aerial battle helped the tale of the heroic Englishmen, who had cleverly presented themselves as brutal thugs so as to throw off suspicion of the terrorists responsible for a most deadly plan but had actually bravely helped Captain Burnaby execute his brilliant plan to destroy the threat.

So on the one hand, less glory than they perhaps deserved, but on the other a complete rehabilitation of their tattered reputation and a very narrow escape from devastating scandal and social ruin.

Interlude: High Martians and The Anti-Earthman Resistance

So we have met the High Martians.

These rather bellicose chaps are smaller in stature than either the Steppe or Hill Martians, but have a membrane connecting arm to body that can be used as a wing. This, in conjunction with a "lift gland" that produces a similar chemical to Liftwood sap, conveys the power of flight to the High Martian. This, along with their remarkable prehensile feet, makes them a power to be feared in the mountainous areas of Mars as they swoop through the air, spears gripped in their feet.

High Martians live in immense, multi-tiered "Kraag"s excavated into cliffs. They are fierce, terriorial, clannish. They capture and keep slaves from any and all races. They perhaps of all the races on mars deserve the epithet "savage".

We have also brushed up against the Ground Cleanser movement.

This is a socio-political movement, sometimes represented by high organisation, sometimes only by sympathy of views, which can be summed up as "Earthman Go Home", inside the boundaries of the Boreosyrtis League more specifically as "Englishman Go Home". Regarded as a terrorist organisation by the Colonial Office and by the British Armed Expeditionary Forces, most martians will likely show degrees of sympathy with the message, if not the methods, of the more zealous members.

Extremist Ground Cleansers have made common cause with Dynamiters and Fenians, clearly reveling in the paradox of having hated earthmen become actively involved in driving other earthmen off Mars. Ground Cleansers are known to act as agents of other Terran nations on Mars.

Ground Cleansers have committed kidnapping and murder against Her Majesty's subjects and sabotage against Her Majesty's military and bureaucracy infrastructure on Mars. Proof of Ground Cleanser activity is enough to get any Martian hauled off to some secret location for interrogation and imprisonment.

Interest and participation in the Ground Cleanser conspiracy increases during times of outrage, and stories of outrage spread like wildfire on a regular basis, whether or not they are rooted in fact. As our team have already discovered, Ground Cleanser fanatics can marshal surprising levels of cooperation from the local populace, which they do by fanning such stories of Terran perfidy. A wise earthman or earthwoman will always have at the back of their mind that no matter how well they get on with a specific martian individual, that individual will have Ground Cleanser members in their family or circle of acquaintances even if they harbour no such sympathies themselves.

Life has not become more complicated for the team; the team has became more attuned to the complicated life of which they've become a part.

Episode 5: A Series Of Unfortunate Events

It was a noisy night on the Steppe after Waldmont had saved the day.

The guards insisted in skinning the Steppe Tiger and presenting the pelt to Waldmont. The noisy celebration of the guards roused the rest of the camp and in no time a party was in full swing despite the protestations of Kalamir. Wiiso insisted that the great hunter must be feted and that was that.

The next day the caravan had to rest more than usual to offset the lost sleep.

A few days later, Kalamir dismounted and insisted that he walk to loosen up his joints and take a break from the gait of the ruumet breehr. Waldmont and Wilhelm rode out on point, alerted to the possibility of another Steppe Tiger by the skittishness of the great beasts. Suddenly, Waldmont thought he heard a gunshot, and a herd of eegaar (a sort of Martian antelope) erupted out of a defile. Their sudden appearance caused the skittish ruumet breehr to stampede.

Waldmont managed to take cover in the broken ground of the steppe, as diod the wily Kalamir. Wilhelm, however, took a good kicking from panicked ruumet breehr. Fortunately he escaped serious injury and was able to continue the journey as an independent participant rather than an injured invalid. There were casualties, however, and Wiiso argued for turning back. Kalamir, however, would not hear of such a thing.

At the edge of the Shastapsh border of influence, with everyone on edge, the party was attacked as it bivouaced for the night by a large group of High Martians, who conducted an airborne assault on the encampment, seeming to be intent on kidnapping Kalamir. Waldmont was one of the first to realize what was happening and he raised the alarm. A pitched battle ensued, which was very desperate indeed, buyt the High Martian attackers were eventually driven off and Kalamir was not taken.

There were now, however, only two surviving guards of the original nine and Wiiso was eloquent in the need to turn back to Thoth. Kalamir, however, was resolute in that he would not turn back.

The caravan, much reduced in size, entered the Isidis Desert. About halfway across the stony wasteland Waldmont and Wilhelm awoke, groggy, to see dead and dying Martians all around them. They attempted to give aid, but could only save two from what was obviously a poisoning.

Noticing that a ruumet breehr was missing, as were Kalamir and Wiiso, Waldmont and Wilhelm began to track the animal south, eventually catching up with Wiiso leading the ruumet breehr with a bound Kalamir in the howdah. The gallant Earthmen's attempt to sneak up on the Martians was ruined when Kalamir called out to the Earthmen to rescue him. Wiiso immediately remounted the ruumet breehr and engaged the rescue party with his black powder weaponry.

Waldmont elected to stand off and make the most of the difference between the range attenuation of his rifle and Wiiso's wheellock while Wilhelm closed on his gashant. Wiiso, seeing Wilhelm easily overhauling his slower mount, fired a pistol at his own animal's rear end. The bullet couldn't pierce the ruumet breehr's hide but did sting enough to stampede the animal again.

Waldmont now found himself being disadvantaged, so packed up and remounted. Wilhelm now came into his own. With superb skill he maneuvered his gashant in front of the ruumet breehr and brought it to a halt.

Wiiso gave an impassioned rant on the subject of his "Ground Cleanser" affiliations, berating the Earthmen and ordering them to leave Mars and go back to Earth. How pernicious the English were. How they worked their way into the trust of proud Martian princes, then made them vassal. They were a plague on Mars and he spat on all Earthmen and doubly so on English Earthmen.

Waldmont and Wilhelm returned to the pitiful remains of the caravan and managed to deliver it to Meepsoor. There were a few days of rest, in which the British Legate and the commissioner for the Colonial Office took Wiiso into custody and took up discussions with Kalamir.

Then, the Earthmen, Kalamir and a couple of the remaining Martians were put aboard a canal boat heading for Syrtis Major, where Kalamir had further business. The Earthmen thought they were in for a restful end to their nightmare journey, but four days after leaving Meepsoor the boat was attacked by a force of Ground Cleanser fanatics¹. The attackers were eventually beaten off but wounds were taken and assassination only narrowly avoided.

And so the team were come to Syrtis Major, jewel in the crown of British Mars.

1. Identified as such by the head of the Colonial Office in Syrtis Major↑