Episode 33: The Play's The Thing

The intrepid adventurers returned as quickly as possible to the Wasp there to plan and concoct two clockwork infernal devices.

The plan was simple: Steal a small screw-skiff from the Shastapsh boatyards, where such a craft had been espied, fly it over the warehouse, "neutralise" the four shadowy figures crouched there, effect a landing, and then place the bombs inside the warehouse by means of the ventilation slits and a broom handle.

Dr Phipps came up with an elaboration, in the way of an alteranative should the "roof" plan go awry as it were, in which he paid to have food delivered to the Shastapsh watchmen on guard on the streets outside the warehouse. The food was to be doctored with opium, of which he just happened to have an adequate supply close to hand. What a stroke of luck!

The plans' prerequisites were acquired and the plans themselves encated the next evening. By good fortune it turned out that Waldmont was a passable trimsman so the problem of how to stabilise the little airship with respect to altitude was solved. What a stroke of luck!

At the appointed time, Dr Phipps' "kind" gift was delivered, rendering almost a dozen of the stout watchmen hors de combat before, in fact, any combat had so much as shown its face. Meanwhile, unnoticed by all, the small skiff silently swept over the Shatstapsh skies¹ and arrived over the warehouse.

While about half the available guards were falling about on the streets below, a net was lowered from the skiff and dropped over the unsuspecting Shadowy Figures, who were then fired at with crossbows in a surprisingly unsporting manner by the adventurers. Clearly emotions had run so high the Englishmen quite forgot themselves. Thank heavens no-one of import was around to see this. No doubt some sort of secret ceremony² would be undertaken later in which the adveturers would swear eternal secrecy, never to mention the events in detail to anyone not of The Brotherhood of the Boat and so forth. After all, it wouldn't do for everyone to be tarred with the same brush as poor old Waldmont.

Unfortunately, one of the Shadowy Figures got off a shot with his black powder pistol, a large calibre, slow-loading weapon of comparative antiquity when shown alongside weapons from Earth. They do have one feature that the adventurers could have done without at this particular moment: they are very loud when fired.

Spurred on by this eventuation, the adventurers finished off the last Shadowy Figure. Sadly, the netted bundle of bodies fell from the roof to the streets below, alerting the few watchmen still standing that there was trouble above.

Quickly landing the skiff, the players found a large skylight that they culd open, and set and lowered their devices to the bales of - Red Sands? - below.

As they raced for the city limit in their tiny airship there was an incredible explosion behind them and the boat was battered by a blastwave such as Captain Forsyth had never encountered in his entire service in the British army. The entire roof of the warehouse had been replaced by a fireball rising above Shastapsh almost as though Lucifer's own powder magazine had been detonated. The sight was fascinating and horrifying, but the team was convinced that the threat of the "mind control" dust was burning to ash in front of their very eyes. The threat to Thoth was over.

The Prince of Thoth was beyond himself with appreciation for this service, as were the people of Thoth once the story got out - though the adventurers would never be sure how that had happened - and these brave Earthmen, the British Empire and the Crown Colony of Syrtis Lapis were the talk of the town, the cream of the crop. The treaty was signed.

Returning to Syrtis Major the adventurers were almost as celebrated and were invited to a celebratory event in the form of a Thesbian Evening at the Syrtics Major Opera House, where the Belgian play Princess Maleine will be performed by a crack troupe of actors from Earth. Black Tie. Best Behaviour and all that.

Fortunatley, the Prince of Thoth had shown his appreciation in the form of a line of credit placed with the best outfitter in Syrtis Major - what a stroke of luck³!

The day of the play Forsyth insinuated himself into the theatre for a spot of adavanced recce (his paranoia was running high after the events in which he had participated of late and he saw this gathering of the best and brightest of British Society in one place as a tempting target for the foul Brotherhood of Luxor). This proved to be very wise, as he was able to discover that the cast had been replaced owing to their being rumoured deaths during a Ground Cleanser riot.

The adventurers had a box, which gave them even more freedom to wander abroad during the perfomance, but all seemed suspiciously normal other than the nervousness of the lesser cast members. The performance was ... not excellent. The lead actors seemed the only ones who were comfortable on stage. Indeed, it seemed as though the rest of the cast might be on stage for the first time in their lives. Very odd.

At the after-performance reception, the lead actors, Raymond and Leone Mathieu, were ebulient and generous hosts, but the adventurers were on high alert and noticed that the waiters were actually some of the cast from the play. Quite what this meant was not apparent, but when handed glasses of pink champagne the team were suspiscious enough to be on guard against treachery.

Noticing that the Heroes of Thoth were getting ready to spoil things Raymond Mathieu suddenly broke his flowery speech praising The Queen to call for a toast to her Britannic Majesty, and glasses were lifted all round. The players, sensing a trap, moved in to confront the Mathieuses who reacted with preternatural speed to neutralise the adventurer's attacks. Leone completely overwhelmed Waldmont's attempt to ambush her and, having beaten him to the punch and to the floor, fled the scene. Raymond drew some sort of Weird Science pistol and fired it at Forsyth. Immediate chaos ensued as the crowd seemed to become overcome with fear and a stampede of terrified elites of Syrtis Major ensued that helped screen the Mathieus' escape.

But the team was now faced with a more immediate problem. About a third of those who had drunk the champagne suddenly began to have seizures, and each sprouted a writhing, thorn-tipped, green tentacle from the middle of their backs. Those affected then began attempting to attack the reast of the people there.

Within seconds the room began to fill with a heavy, heady scent Forsyth recognised from his stint on Venus. The smell of the Death Flower!

The brave adventurers, confronted with the growing threat of the deadly perfume of the Death Flowers and outnumbered by tentacled horrors that were once innocent members of the British who's who on Mars decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and beat a reteat, managing to lock the opera house before the horrors could escape only to hear the sound of breaking glass and smell once more the heady perfume of the Death Flowers.

Playing on their new-found fame and popularity, the team managed to mobilize the forces of law and order to affect a terrible solution to what could have easily become a disaster of unheard of proportions. The opera house was burned.

1. The narrator pauses to refit his teeth↑
2. The teeth again↑
3. The players are newly introduced to the Joys of Penury since Waldmont the Elder's estate is still tied up in probate and Wilhelm is nowhere to be found, robbing the team of their access to unlimited wealth↑

Episode 32: The Raid on Shastapsh

The Adventurers had beaten off the dastardly coup attempt and dealt with those who took part, but a new threat was raising its head in the form of a recovered letter detailing a threat to back up any failure with the spraying of some sort of mind-control powder over Thoth and the subborning of the armed forces by ... The Brotherhood of Luxor!

The Prince of Thoth showered the brave Earthmen with praise, and the noble houses of Thoth agreed that an alliance in the form of a treaty with Britain would be a good and honorable thing in light of the obvious high character and loyalty of the British people to the people of Thoth and their Royal Family. Mr Smith stayed diplomatically silent rather than point out his nationality to those Martians who praised him mistakenly as British, then quietly corrected the narrative to include friendly Americans. No member of the team could walk abroad without drawing nods of approval from High Caste Martians, respectful bows from merchants and cheers from labourers.

And if there were any that felt differently about the state of matters, they made sure to keep to the shadows and remain unobserved. The Prince was as popular as ever, and the people all seemed to view his continued rule as a positive thing, and his new friends as worth cultivating. Thoth influence would surely grow, as would her markets, and Shastapsh could perhaps be brought back to the negotiating table with the arrival of British troops and cloudships.

This new plot was worrying though, and the Prince asked if his new friends, so obviously capable when it came to martial matters and possessing marvelous British armaments far superior to those that Thoth itself could manufacture, could perhaps travel to Shastapsh, locate the place where this dreadful mind-control dust was stored and attempt to destroy the stockpile.

The team immediately agreed. They were riding high on adrenaline and felt invincible when it came to putting Martians in their place. They had the Wasp for transport. They had their fighting skills and spirit. And they had their implacable determination to thwart the vile Brotherhood of Luxor at every chance they could, until the opportunity presented itself to bring the leadership to heel and enact justice for the terrible things done in that organization's name.

The morning began with perhaps two good omens. Firstly, a message from Captain Turngood sayng that he had been approached by an Englishman asking for passage back to Syrtis Major. This turned out to be one Dr Phipps carrying an impressively large medical bag. He was quite eager to obtain passage to Syrtis Major, and as a result was perhaps rather too easily persuaded to join the adventurers on their proposed sortie. The other was when Forsyth recognized a former lance corporal of his acquaintance standing in the crowd, dressed much like a Martian. The poor soul had obviously hit on hard times and "gone native". Forsyth and this man, lance-corporal Jones spent some short time getting re-acquainted before Forsyth suggested he needed a factotum, someone to "do" for him and Jones was so grateful it was almost embarrassing.

During this meeting, Smith was approached by a Martian noble and a merchant who, in broken English, informed him that they were pleased to meet someone from the Kingdom of America, that they had heard of the wonderful new repeating muskets carried by the cavalry there and that they wished to obtain perhaps 25 of these marvelous muskets with maybe 100 rounds of ammunition for each weapon. These weapons would be issued to a special unit of soldiers raised by this Noble for the service and greater glory of the Prince.

Smith declined to be drawn into this proposal, and the Noble and merchant took polite leave of him.

Waldmont noticed that while this was going on, two sinister figures in hooded robes were observing the conversation using a monocular, and were apparently recording what was being said by lip-reading. He trailed the figures to an alley between two large properties but lost them there.

The team staked out the alley, then decided to investigate, and were rewarded by spotting that they were being ob severed from both rooftops. On one side this proved to be a residence block of terraced apartments, but a concierge would not allow the team access to the roof after a conversation between Jones and the concierge became very heated. A small contingent of militia turned up, and the argument shifted to being between them and the concierge, so the team decamped to the other building to try their luck there.

This, being a sort of souk or bazaar, proved to be a better bet, but Waldmont got caught up in a seemingly endless transaction with a merchant leaving everyone else to investigate. Forsyth went up to the roof and wandered over to the parapet, where his eye was drawn by a sudden flash of reflected light. Leaping to one side he was narrowly missed by a crossbow bolt. He drew his pistol and fired at a fleeing figure (cloaked, sinister) but missed his shot. The fleeing figure leaped over the further parapet in a move Forsyth had seen last in Meepsoor when a Brotherhood saboteur had made it to escape over the side of the Wasp.

A short argument broke out again when Forsyth came down to report as the concierge had followed the team dragging the militia along with her, but the merchant busy instructing Waldmont in how to haggle sharply pointed out that the team were in fac the very heroes that had saved the Prince from insurrectionist scum, and the militia officer told the harridan to go back to her desk, saluted the adventurers with a very tired expression on his face, ordered his troop to about face and got back to the business of keeping the peace.

Postulating that the Brotherhood was possibly in on their plans the adventurers made plans quickly and left on the evening of the third day, setting a course to fool any observers and travelling only by night. There were two close brushes with Shastapshi kites over the course of the two-night trip, but the Wasp was able to evade them both without an exchange of fire. The days were spent grounded at anchor, the Wasp hidden under camouflaged tarpaulins.

The team were dropped off outside the Shatapsh city wall and made their way stealthily into the city on the search for the warehouse storing the mind-control dust.

Things were going well, and information was gained thanks to Jones's streetwise abilities, but then the adventurers ran into a patrol and Jones's powers of persuasion proved not up to snuff wen challenged by the officer in charge. The officer grabbed his sword hilt and Phipps, wound tight by the tension, drew and fired.

The fight was short. Phipps was quite severely wounded by the halberd-wielding guards and soon the team were obliged to surrender. They were disarmed, chained and marched off ... to the warehouse they were looking for! Chained to the wall of this building the team were able to detect that the warehouse was some sort of grain store, was very dusty (the ventilation slits were voiding a veritable mist of powder), and that dust smelled faintly of the Red Sands that Forsyth had encountered in Colorado.

Whispered conference produced the opinion that the atmosphere in the warehouse was highly explosive. If only there were some way that a flame or spark could be introduced into that building the problem of the "Mind Control" dust could be dealt with in a flash. Talk of lobbing a lit fuse through one of the vemtillation slits was quickly quashed by consideration of the force of the resulting explosion. It was known that similar explosions had wrecked dockyards on Earth. No-one standing in close proximity to this building could be expected to survive such an event.

Alternate talk of bombing the building from the Wasp was also abandoned when consideration of the effects of the blast on the ship were added into the discussion.

Jones chose this moment to produce the key to their chains, filched during their capture, and the adventurers freed themselves and stole into the night to make a workable plan.

Clear Credit: Map of Shastapsh from the board game Cloudships & Gunboats © 2000 by Frank Chadwick, published by Games Designers Workshop. Map reproduced to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. I do not have clear attribution for the art itself, the rulebook citing Interior art by Lauretta Oblinger. If the responsible artist will contact me I will attribute properly.

Personal Letter, Colorado and later, Various Places on Mars, Captain Henry Forsyth (Ret)

On ongoing letter to Clarence Forsyth from Capt. Henry Forsyth RE (ret.)

Thoth, Mars, sometime in the afternoon.

 

Dear Brother,

I must apologise for my lack of recent communication. I trust your housekeeper advised of my attempted visit, it was crass of me to call unannounced, but time is continually pressing in the most infernal way.

We left Denver, at the same time as my last letter, crossing much of America by train and hence hotfoot back to England. I cannot express how good it felt to be back in civilisation, to be able to visit a decent tailor and be back among properly mannered folk. The manners of the Americans are rather rough.

Alas, I had so little time to spare and you had taken the family into the country. I did manage to call on our parents and was pleased to find them in rude health. Naturally I could not reveal the true nature of my business to them, Mother always worries so. I’m afraid I cited ‘government business’ as the reasons for my travels and absence. But in this I am truthful, for we met with some senior people.

The plots against Europe I previously spoke of have mostly been thwarted, but I fear not entirely. You will be aware of some disturbances in London. Again, look to the coded letters, I left the more recent ones with your housekeeper. She seemed trustworthy enough despite the strange accent. Where is she from prey?

Sadly, it was necessary for my colleagues and I to depart post-haste for Mars! Our party has been joined by Walmont’s brother, of course he is a little shunned with the vile lies reported about his dead brother. But I saw the truth of the matter, which I’ve previously recounted.

It was a sad occasion when we collected his body from a poorer place as I’ve seen. It was clear that the villains there intended us ill. We took the coffin on a cart to head towards civilisation and a long journey that has been.

These rough types with guns, bad intentions and in dire need of some decent dentistry, came after us. Well, it was easy enough to set an ambush and once again turn the tides. Franky I’ve come against spear armed natives in the Punjab who could teach these fire armed bumkins a thing or two. How we lost a war to these ill-mannered louts is beyond me.

Their leader was a different sort of cove, most capable, but he had the misfortune, or good fortune as it transpired, to meet the fist of Fogg. A straight knock-out! Of course, we questioned him once he regained consciousness. A quiet remarkable thing occurred, Fogg reasoned and prayed with him and the man broke. Swore he’d follow the path of righteousness and in his eyes, you could see he meant it. It was most moving and the good reverend never ceased to impress me. We let the fellow go, even gave him his horse and gun back.

I digress, the need for us to pursue the evil villains behind all this chaos is as strong as ever. With great regret I joined my comrades on the first available ether flyer to Mars, which is where the dastardly coves have flown, before I had time to arrange a visit. I regret the inconvenience, but the stakes could be no higher and I am duty bound.

Here on Mars things are in a very delicate position. I daresay you will read soon enough of some setbacks to our forces and a massacre of a column of our men. Things are finely balanced, our empire sits on a knife’s edge, nay a precipice which we are already sliding toward. Our grip here is tenuous at best and could easily end with outside forces over-running us or a repeat of the Indian Mutiny. Forgive my precipitous words, I seek only to convey the import of the situation.

At the heart of this is undoubtedly this shady, evil and unholy organisation which we are tracking. If we can cut of the heads of this hydra, not just the Empire, but humanity may survive.

We have had some adventures already here on the Red Planet. Bad and good. We accepted a diplomatic mission to Thoth, because that was the matter of most import on our arrival. The invite was to those legends Wilhelm and Walmart, the latter being dead and the where-abouts of the former not known.

As my colleague Burke is in the Foreign Office, he was entrusted with the mission of securing a treaty with this city state. Failure and the British possessions would be surrounded by hostile states. Success and there is a counterbalance to the worst aggressor against us.

So, we took flight in an old flying craft across the skies of Mars. It’s rather like being on a steamer, smoke bellowing out, the wind in your face, except one is flying, most remarkable. Our first stop was Meepsoor, where sadly we were subject to sabotage. Although once alerted we did for all but one of the wretches, they fatally damaged the ship and killed some of the crew.

We were able to order parts and with it came replacement crew, so it merely delayed us. After which we have across the Idisis desert, but that was no plain sailing either. On one occasion, moored at an oasis, we were subject to a night attack by a gang of thieves and murderers. Once again British mettle was to the fore and we saw off the vermin.

We were strangely dogged by privateers, who seemed to show up far to regularly to be co-incidence. With one such trailing us we saw a dreaded Martian sandstorm on the horizon heading towards us. Thankfully I have my telescope and was able to spot a canyon where we could reach shelter.

Even there I can tell you that the Sandstorm is a horrific experience; without the right equipment a man will surely die. But much debris fell on our rigidly anchored vessel placing it great peril. Seems the kite pursuing us had flown overhead, arriving in the sanctuary too late. Out in the howling winds and swirling sands we found a mast and rigging strewn across our vessel.

One of the anchor ropes was torn out. The reverent Fogg made a gallant attempt to secure it, but it was more than one man could do, but together we made fast the bucking ship that was threatening to tear itself against the canyon walls. Sadly, a crewman had also been killed by the falling debris.

After the storm was over, we rapidly came upon the wrecked hull of the enemy vessel. Curious, actually, very curious, (and this may be my downfall) as to why this ship had been able to follow us, I insisted that we investigate. But everyone was for this anyway. Burke, Fogg and I descended on it.

I confess I fatally assumed that all would have killed by the crash. A mistake I vow I will not repeat. There were two hatches on the deck aft and fore. Fogg and I took the fore, while Burke took the aft, in hindsight another mistake.

While I enjoy the company of extraordinary brave people, I also yearn for simple military disciplines, which would occasionally serve us better.

Below we found a hold full of hostile Martian marines lying in waiting. They’d heard us board and prepared weapons. Although only muskets, they can still take you down and I can testify to the hurt they cause, especially when there’s a whole company of them.

Burke was all but killed in a fusillade, I was severely injured and decided to go back and call for reinforcements, why Fogg thought he could dish them all single handed I know not, but he’s performed just such miracles before.

After shouting up top for the marines, I tried to give covering fire from the hatchway. Walmort arrived and we descended, by then the good Rev., neigh the very esteemed reverend had taken critical wounds and was at the mercy of those alien scum.

Those loathsome creatures actually tried to negotiate with us, but both Burke (also at their mercy) and Fogg yelled out NO! I have little experience in negotiation, but to deal with these foul creations was beyond all bearing. Death before dishonour! It was shortly decided by the appearance of our own gallant marines. Answering my earlier call, those fine fellows dropped through the aft hatch and rapidly proved too much for their Martian counterparts. It was all over in seconds.

Burke, ailing badly was removed to the ship. But Fogg, that fearless man, who dealt divine justice and retribution on one hand and saved souls on the other, was in the arms of the Lord. I mourn him. One of the greatest characters I’ve stood alongside. I hope his spirit lives on.

We had more fire encounters as we probed below deck. Walmart had joined us before the final encounter with the marines. He led the line on clearing a couple of others.

We found several things on the lower decks. First and foremost, must be Wilhelm, a captive of all things! But it’s our good luck finding him on this mission, as he’s a named friend of the royal invite we have.

We also found some American gentleman, I do use the term in its widest possible sense.

I also found why they were able to follow us. A tracking device on their bridge. A tripod device, much like I’d use for measuring distance, but this pointed to our ship. Back onboard, after an ordered search, well, that is to say much was searched, we found an orb and the two devices followed each other. We have them now, so maybe we’ll get the opportunity to turn the tables.

Fogg was buried with all due ceremony. A larger than life character, he will be much missed.

We eventually reached Thoth, with the great good fortune to have Wilhelm once more part of our little band. We were warmly welcomed and a ceremonial banquet held in our honour! Of course, I’ve experienced such things before in India, but this had a certain affection about it on the one hand and a very great deal of tension on the other.

The urgent request for those great hero’s came from the Princess, whose life they had previously saved. It seemed a coup from the enemies of the Empire was imminent. So, we were quartered close to the Royal Family as added protection for them.

Alas, some of their guard proved disloyal and a fierce hand-to-hand fight took place between guards. The loyalists barely prevailed, but they did and raised the alarm. It was clear to us that this must have been a co-ordinated action, with the true rebels about to show their face.

There were two staircases to the Royal chambers, I fortified one and barricaded the other. If we could survive the night, then loyalist troops would surely make short work of the traitors.

We shot their exploratory duo with ease. Thereafter they blew-up the other blocked stairway, rendering it useless, a tactically naive move. They used some very old style bomb grenades, but, at risk, we were able to lob these back, I simply pinched the hissing fuse out of one.

The problem of working with civilians in a military situation, is that they don’t stick to a plan and forget the objective. So, they forgot the defensive position (and the primary objective of protecting the Royal Family) and carried the attack to the enemy in a very uncoordinated way.

I’m not sure that they appreciated that I remained on station in order to ensure the objective. While fine fellows and courageous to a fault, they can be a little excitable in combat. Only when I felt I could tip the balance and the assailants could no longer reach the Royal Family did I join the fray. Besides Burke could still act as a last line of defence, he’d done exactly the right thing by firing on the enemy below from the vantage point of the hole left by the explosions and given the enemy a lot to worry about.

As I feared it was foolhardy and I was quickly rendered hors de combat. But I’d done enough and the day was ours. Thankfully Wilhelm with one of his remarkable devices from which he is rightly famous, was able to restore me to health. What a fine fellow he is!

The plot was defeated, the enemy all dead bar two who fled, but I doubt will outrun retribution. Amazingly for such a small act, we are treated as royalty. I believe I have some title now, which I will learn to pronounce in due course.

The treaty is signed and will be hopefully returned soon, I am sending this letter with it.

I may say dear brother that I may have put the slightest gleam on the family name. But we now face a far greater challenge for we shall have to carry the attack to the enemy. They are armed with deadly and despicable weapons, which we must cut off at source before they can be deployed. How we do this in this inhospitable environment is currently beyond me. Yet we have to try even if it means all our lives.

On a more positive note, I met our young cousin Bruce. I briefly ran into him in London, a chance encounter and I greeted him, “nice to see you”. He chucked and said “yes, that’s it, before responding in kind, although I think he got his words round-about.” I fear he may some notion of becoming an entertainer!

My most earnest regards,

Henry

Episode 31: A Reunion, And Intrigue in Thoth

The seach of the wrecked kite continued when Sgt Pepper swore he could hear someone shouting belowdecks, even though the wounded adventurers were centrally concerned with healing their wounds ¹, the team decided to investigate once Burke had been put into a swoon by Forsyth's clumsy attempt to render medical aid.

The sounds were determined to be coming from the kite's storeroom, and when the door was opened the adventurers were amazed to find, cained to the wall, none other than Professor Wilhelm, inventor extraordinary and legendary adversary of the foul Brotherhood of Luxor.

It was the work of a few moments for the nimble fingers and lockpicks of the redoubtable Captain Forsyth to free Wilhelm from his confinment, and together they made their way to the kite captain's cabin to retrieve Wilhelm's gear. There was a small problem of there being two more dastardly Martian marines waiting for them, and a brief combat erupted, with Wilhelm taking vengeance for his capture and Waldmont assisting with the grim business of pirate eradication.

In the captain's cabin they discovered the badly mangled body of cpatain Kreuger, a German national obviously in league with Shastapsh Insurrectionist Pirates, as confirmed by Wilhelm, who had much to say about the Herr Kapitan and his behaviour twoard prisoners.

The crash had demolished one wall of the cabin and Kreuger had been crushed, as had his desk. Amid the wreckage were recovered a handful of posters bearing depictions of Waldmont, Wilhelm, Burke and Forsyth, each with their names displayed in Koline² and each bearing the unmistakable trident sigil of The Brotherhood of Luxor! There were also letters of marque issued by the City State of Shastaph, and a document outlining a dastardly plot to render the defenders of Thoth helpless by means of some sort of mind-control dust.

Also in the cabin was an unconscious male human, clearly another prisoner judging by his condition, one Nathan Smith an American national.

Wilhelm deployed his wonderous Healing Machine to good effect, bringing back Burke, Forsyth and Waldmont to, if not perfect health, a reasonable facsimile of it. They also managed to revive the other prisoner who turned out to be an American who was himself not unacquainted with The Brotherhood and who was firmly aligned against those mangy sidewinders.

Wilhelm remarked that the late, unlamented Kapitan Kreuger had claimed to have some sort of device for tracking the Wasp, and it was decided to explore further with a view to proving or disproving that intelligence.

They found it on the flying bridge of the Iron Heart, the name Kreuger had bestowed on the doomed vessel. In what looked like aniron tripod sat a translucent globe some 9 inches in diameter which glowed with a weird green light. Inside, at the center, was a glowing arrow, about half an inch long, pointing at the hull of the Wasp and pulsing about three times a second or so.

Returning to the Wasp , Wilhelm was able to use his Healing Device to bring Burke back from the brink and even cure most of the damage that worthy had suffered in the fight against the Martian marines.

Meanwhile the others searched the Wasp and discovered two things:

• A four inch diameter globe, also glowing with a weird green pulsing light sitting amongst the bibles in Reverend Fogg's steamer trunk toward which the arrow in the larger globe pointed unerringly
• The complete absence of Queeleek, Fogg's Martian translator, whom no-one could remember seeing since the Wasp left Meepsoor.

A brief round of incredulous commentary followed as each member of the team (except Wilhelm) expressed wonder that no-one had been watching the old scholar. Though it seemed that the adventurers each assumed dastardly treachery by Queeleek, one or two of the crew suggested he may have been ambushed in Meepsoor and be entirely inncocent of the machinations of which he was being accused.

And so the Wasp finally was able to sail into Thoth to a warm welcome from Princess Aramaranda, who was there with a retinue to meet personally with the team when they disembarked. After greeting her old friend Wilhelm and comiserating with Waldmont, Princess Aramaranda told of a plot to remove her Father from power and substitute a weaker cousin who would be a puppet to Shastaph interests, and begged the adventurers for help.

The Adventurers were quartered in the Royal apartments at the top of a tower in a circular complex featuring a secret passage that was neither that secret nor secure, giving access as it did between every room in the complex. The team did a quick survey and ensured there were no exterior exits or entrances to this ridiculous architectural feature.

That evening, after a reception in which several dark looks were aimed at the adventurers by certain Martian nobles the Royals and the team retired leaving guards on duty. While they slept the opening moves of a coup began with traitors among the guards attacking the loyal guards in a brief, violent bout of lethal swordplay. By the greatest good luck the loyalists prevailed and raised the alarm.

The adventurers placed the royals in two of the suites, not their original suites, each with a loyal guard. The secret passage portals were blocked with furniture, and one of the two stairwells giving access from the lower floors was blocked using furnishings from all the suites, and a barricade was constructed in front of the other to form a redout from which invaders could be repelled with extreme prejudice.

The first cautious probe by insurrectionists was repelled, killing two traitors with no loss of loyalist life, but the traitors were not idle while the standoff seemed to be in place. A powerful explosive was wedged into the tangle of furniture in the blocked stairwell and detonated with devastating effect. The stairs were demolished, and a large hole blown in the floor. A second attempt on the other stairwell was beaten off with no casualties on either side.

Suddenly two grenades were tossed up through the new hole in the floor. Resembling lawn bowls with fizzing fuzes, these devices posed a major hazard to the team, and out brave lads sprang into action. Burke and Waldmont raced across the room, each grabbing a grenade and tossing it back down the hole, where they exploded amongst the traitors.

Realizing that the massed volleys of musket fire, while very effective suppressing fire, were not coordinated as they would have been had they had the benefit of British Army training and thus gave several seconds opportunity while the vile Martian traitors reloaded their primitive weapons, Smith and Wilhelm raced down the stairs and engaged the enemy at close quarters. Burke gave supporting fire from the edge of the hole in the floor, and Waldmont ran into theater with complete disregard for his own safety. Forsyth took up station at the top of the stairs, after calmly walking over and pinching out the fuze of yet another tossed grenade.

The fighting was desperate and deadly. Waldmont and Burke exchanged gunfire with the traitors, Wilhelm and Smith took on others in hand-to-hand Foryth used the unlit grenade to distract others while he fired with his trusty pistol.

The battle was fierce and at times seemed in the balance, yet eventually the Adventurers prevailed, killing all but two of the vile traitorous insurrectionists, who fled the field. The battle was won, the treaty now a certainty. Yet there was still the matter of the Shastapsh Plot to deal with.

The War might yet be lost.

1. Curiously, no-one had thought to add a corpsman, medic or doctor to the crew before the Wasp set out, and now the team were paying dearly for that oversight↑
2. The Martian lingua franca of trade↑

Episode 30: The Weather Turns Nasty

The Wasp landed at a small Oasis to take on water and make needed repairs to the boiler, and the officers, adventurers and a select few crew - to serve as lookouts and provide essential services - descended from the close-moored Wasp to bivouac and have a civilized dinner.

The captain had reported seeing a kite in the far distance, possibly shadowing the Wasp, but the distant ship didn't seem anxious to close with the British craft. Having learned the lesson that six pairs of eyes are better than four, the adventurers joined the watch rotation and were thus able to spot a band of Steppe Martians sneaking up on the encampment before it was too late.

A swift battle ensued with the ambushers proving more stalwart than is usual for these poorly-armed opportunistic sneak thieves, who usually run like quicksilver down a wall at the sound of a Webley pistol, and they continued with their brave, if foolhardy, attack even after many of them were taken down by the British defenders.

Eventually the survivors saw sense and ran for their lives.

A burial party was formed from the other ranks and though the ground was inhospitable, cairns were raised over the dead and a service said for their souls.

The Wasp set out again, heading for the next oasis, and soon it was apparent that either the party had not lost their Martian escort, or had picked up another, and that now the kite was intent on catching the Wasp. A shift in the wind had Captain Turngood concerned that the Wasp might be overhauled, explaining that though the steamship had a speed advantage it would need to take on water, and that while the kite was a slave to the winds, those winds were favouring the sailing ship, which could run non-stop and do so almost silently.

The Wasp was anything but silent, and the trail of black smoke and steam she left was a clear signal of her position and heading. A good captain could even make an estimate of speed from the exhaust. The crew of the Wasp would be particularly vulnerable at night, when the kite would be very hard to see.

A brief reprieve came when the wind shifted to come from ahead, but that brought with it new peril. A blurring on the horizon could only be one thing, a dread martian sandstorm.

The weather on Mars is generally arid, with no clouds. Rain is almost unheard of. But in the deserts, winds can build, picking up the fine dust and sand and carrying the detritus to very high altitudes. Every skyship captain knows the danger of being swept up in a sandstorm, and the only way to avoid them is to go around them if possible, or go to ground in sheltering terrain. To be caught in a sandstorm is almost certain death. Absent those two options a ship must run ahead of the storm and hope they can reach safe harbour before they are overtaken.

Around noon Captain Turngood spotted likely shelter in a small group of mesa-like features, and the crew expertly nursed the Wasp into a narrow canyon and moored her to the rocky walls with stout ropes. Everyone then took shelter, with a skeleton watch assigned. Those outside were forced to wear special goggles and respirators and to shelter in the lee of whatever superstructure could provide as the wind-driven sand was, despite the shelter of the canyon, still blowing with considerable force and one couldn't see a hand in front of one's face a lot of the time.

A couple of hours into the storm there came an almighty crashing sound and the Wasp shook as though pounded by a titan. Venturing topside, Reverend Fogg found the deck a catastrophic jumble of fallen wreckage, seemingly from a kite. He attempted to reconnoiter the deck fully, but the wreckage was almost impassible, being made up of a mast fallen on the starboard decking, and a colossal tangle of rigging, ropes and blocks that worked like a net to imperil the explorer.

Captain Forsyth joined Fogg on deck and together they rescued the fallen crewman on the flying bridge who had been felled by wreckage. A sudden lurch warned of trouble brewing and Fogg and Forsyth discovered one of the crucial mooring ropes had parted from the canyon wall. They clambered over the fallen mast, mostly blinded by the orange fog of wind-borne sand and dust, and made several attempts to re-secure the Wasp to the canyon wall, eventually succeeding.

The next day the storm had subsided and the crew and adventurers worked to clear the Wasp of the wreckage and get underway again, but the sight of the hull of a crashed kite some distance down the canyon pulled them up short. It was decided to board the wreckage and see what could be found.

Burke, Forsyth and Fogg made the foray, lowering themselves down ropes from the Wasp . Burke made to enter by a hatch aft, while Fogg and Forsyth too a hatch toward the bow. Unfortunately, a crew of crack Martian Marines were lying in wait, having heard the Wasp's approach and made plans for just this contingency. Each was armed with a black powder musket and two black powder pistols. When you have to take so long to reload the enemy can shoot you several times with their advanced Earth weapons, you carry spare firearms.

And so when Burke hit the lower deck he came under heavy fire from four Marines and was severely wounded.

Forsyth fared little better, managing to survive the first fusillade relatively unscathed. Fogg charged in with his signature lack of concern for personal safety, but was met with ruthless swordplay and taken down.

It was at this point the Martian commander called for the adventurers' surrender, but Forsyth answered this cheeky demand with some more ineffective pistol fire then being badly wounded by a second volley of pistol fire from the Martians. Waldmont joined the fray in the bow but was pinned by heavy fire and himself badly wounded. It was all he and Forsyth could do to make for the upper daecks and collapse, groaning from their gunshot wounds.

Burke seemed done for, but Sgt Pepper and some of his 'lads' crashed into theatre and made short work of the Martian marines, rescuing the man and bringing him above decks for treatment. Sadly, Reverend Fogg bled quietly to death while this was taking place.

To be continued ...

Interlude: Rules Change

The Space 1889:Red Sands setting book was published right at the point that the Savage Worlds Deluxe Edition of the rules replaced the original Savage Worlds Explorer's Edition. The changes weren't sweeping, so more an incremental change, some rewording. The biggest change in my opinion was to the chase rules.

The result was that while the Deluxe Edition rules work very well with the setting book, the aerial combat rules for fights between flying ships on Mars require knowledge of the original rules to understand what they are trying to explain. No big deal.

Recently ¹ the Deluxe Edition was superceded by the Savage Worlds Adventure Edition (aka SWADE), which made many changes to the Deluxe Edition rules. The character generation has changed, the original slimline skill set has been expanded and rationalized in places, and the chase rules have been changed again.

Some of the changes have been for the better in my opinion. Some leave me cold. There is an overall taste of "leveling" the game, spreading the awesome in the character build and removing the sacrifice to get it. A character build system that makes everyone awesome can end up making no-one awesome.

This is especially noticeable in the new Deadlands:Reloaded setting.

In my opinion.

However, there are other changes I feel worth looking at and I got into Savage Worlds after 30 years spent mostly running Call of Cthulhu (BRP) as a way of challenging my assumptions, and that turned out to be an exceptionally good call.

So from Episode 30 forward we will be using the SWADE as our basic rule set, bending it where necessary to accommodate the Space 1889:Red Sands setting and "feel".

We have a small problem with the vehicle rules. The speeds are *way* too slow, which only is a problem when infantry interacts with them. Unfortunately, on Mars, this can happen a lot, when High Martians attempt ambush of flying steam vessels.

The SWADE chase rules, developed from the Deluxe Edition chase rules, do not dovetail with my players desire to use tactical ship combat with minis (VTT tokens) on a map. But fortunately I have a copy of the old GDW board games depicting this. It is my plan to raid these rules to see what can be fitted into the Savage Worlds RPG framework.

Part of this has involved re-figuring the speed and acceleration figures quoted in Space 1889:Red Sands according to "real world" speeds quoted in the original GDW Space 1889 materials. I've come up with multiplying the quoted values by four. It seems to work in a GURPS-like way.

I don't like having to kludge something mid-game, but I don't see an alternative. We can use the SWADE cinematic chase rules for those situations where tactical fighting is not required.

But my players do like to see those maps and "minis".

1. i.e. about a year and a half ago↑

Episode 29: Much Ado in Meepsoor

The Team were on Mars, newly arrived in Syrtis Major, the heart of the British Colony of Syrtis Lapis, some for the first time, and rumours of war were rife.

The Governor was a very worried man. It was imperative that the unaligned city state Thoth align with Syrtis Lapis and not join Shastapsh in open rebellion. The royal princess Aramaranda and the Prince of Thoth were favourably disposed toward professor Wilhelm and the disgraced Waldmont, but the Governor had just discovered that neither were in present company. This was a blow.

But perhaps not disastrous. After all, Martians may not have the refined social sensibilities of Earthmen, certainly not of Englishmen, and perhaps the brother of the disgraced Waldmont might be an acceptable stand-in. One could only hope, and the wretched man couldn't stay here in Syrtis Major after all. Why on Earth had he not observed common good manners and not put in a personal appearance at the Residence?

An aging Aphid class steam gunboat, the Wasp, would be put at the heroes' disposal. Captain Turngood was present and only too happy to explain the flight plan. The Wasp would sail first to Meepsoor, then swing a path over the Isidis Desert to keep well clear of Shastapsh.

Shastapsh was known to operate a large fleet of their own, and had an auxiliary fleet of privateers only too happy to profit while doing Shatapsh's dirty work. The merchant fleet of Syrtis Lapis were rich prey, highly valued by pirates. Military targets were fair game. The Wasp would have a large bullseye painted on her once she was beyond the borders of Syrtis Lapis.

A day was lost to resupply, which the team used to good effect. Reverend Fogg decided to bring The Word to the citizens of Thoth, and went into the town in search of a native interpreter, a scribe capable of translating the Bible into Thoth. The others went shopping, mostly for clothes in which hey could put up a good showing on behalf of Queen and Country.

Fogg was able to retain a Martian scholar who could read and speak English and Thoth, and who was willing to undertake the job, albeit with some reservations on the amount of time it would take to render the large Earth book into Thoth. However, he was willing to try, and so Fogg's entourage now included one Queeleek Thorshian.

The team boarded the Wasp and passed a pleasant day sailing above the Syrtis Major-Meepsoor canal, reaching the mooring mast at the British compound. On docking the Adventurers and the Officers of the Wasp were invited to the Governor's residence for dinner. The Governor was a pleasant host, even making Waldmont welcome though it was obvious he was making that effort if one paid attention. Queeleek had been allowed to visit "friends and relatives" in Meepsoor, and had left the ship promising to return the next day.

The heroes returned to the Wasp and retired for the evening, leaving the second engineer and two marines on watch per the orders of Captain Turngood.

In the very early hours of the morning, the adventurers were awakened by the sound of a musket shot. They grabbed their pistols and ran to the deck from their quarters below to find the ship overrun by fanatical Martian Ground Cleansers ¹ armed with muskets and wicked-looking knives!

The team naturally engaged the enemy as quickly as possible, earning a fusillade of ineffective musket fire in return but gaining as a result much-needed time while the cumbersome primitive weapons were reloaded.

Fogg raced to the rear of the Wasp and bodily shoved one terrorist overboard, engaging a second with his trusty fists. This Martian, and a second now revealed, were dressed in black, with hooded tunics. One engaged Fogg in furious hand-to-hand combat, wielding a short sword while the other worked furiously near the rear of the boiler at something Fogg could not see.

Burke shot at these new targets, but was unable to wound either.

Waldmont engaged ground cleansers to very good effect with pistol and knife, giving good account of himself in several encounters. The man would have seemed driven by some inner demon, had anyone the time to watch him in action.

Forsyth drew his trusty pistol and in no time was making life hard, then impossible for the Ground Cleanser scum in the bow of the Wasp.

Both Fogg and Burke were able to dispatch the strangely tough and able black-clad combatant who had engaged Fogg, but neither were able to prevent the other from completing his mission and leaping overboard, then rappelling to the ground with some sort of thin rope attached to a belt-mounted reel. The black clad villain dodged under the hull of the Wasp and was fled.

Burke and Fogg studied the boiler as Waldmont and Forsyth were finishing off the Ground Cleansers. There was a brown mass, not unlike a terrestrial wasp's nest were it not for the fizzing noise and clouds of blue smoke issuing from it, attached to the boiler. Fogg attempted to pry it off with a knife, but the blade became stuck fast.

And fast was the strategy Fogg then adopted to retreat amidships.

Forsyth had joined Fogg and Burke, opening a stopcock to drain the boiler in a futile attempt to quench the odd combustion taking place in the "wasp's nest". When that did not work, he too retreated amidships.

Burke, for reasons known best to himself, decided to stick around and further examine the mass, but did finally back off a few feet.

And the "wasp's nest" exploded violently, destroying the Wasp's boiler, the deck and part of the gunwales. The Wasp would fly no more. The forces of Martian Nationalism had won the day.

Except.

The British Empire is not so easily defeated. Heliographs were sent the next day, alerting Thoth to the delay and requesting replacement parts and crew for the Wasp, for the two marines on watch and the engineer had been unfortunately killed in action, the marines having been knifed and the engineer dispatched by the musket shot that had awakened the heroes during the night.

The boiler arrived by barge along with an engineering crew of a size quite at odds with a broken-down Aphid-class boat reprieved from retirement. The Thoth mission must be important.

Within three days the Wasp was refitted and working again, with a full crew complement, and she set off for the vast wilderness of the Isidis Desert, avoiding the Shastapsh navy and privateers per the original plan.

On the first day out the Wasp encountered two small Kites that attempted an ambush, but after only a single exchange of fire the Wasp was able to out-maneuvre and outpace the sailing vessels and escape unhurt.

To be continued ...

1. A violent nationalist underground conspiracy dedicated to getting all Earthmen off Mars by any means possible↑

Clear Credit:
Map of the British Dependencies on Mars based on an original map first published in Space 1889 by Frank Chadwick and available now from Heliograph publishing as ISBN: 0-9668925-9-0. Map reproduced to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. No clear attribution of the original artwork is given on the original, but the book lists the artists whose work appear in that volume as Tom Peters, James Colton McGonigle, Jim Holloway, Joseph O'Neil, Richard Hasenauer, Dave Choat, Steve Crompton, Jeff Dec, Craig Farley, Paul Herbert, Robert Jamison, Rick Harris, Ken Mayfield, Tim Bradstreet, Shea Ryan and James R. Kuntz. If the original artist would contact me I will be happy to properly attribute the artwork used.
Plan of the Wasp from page 116 of the Space 1889:Red Sands setting book published by Pinnacle Entertainment Group. Diagram reproduced to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. I do not have clear attribution for the art itself, the book citing Interior art by: Richard Clark, Christophe Swal Cartography by: Jordan Peacock. If the responsible artist will contact me I will attribute the artwork properly.

Episode 28: Leaving Golden, Denver, America and Earth

The team were aghast to discover the day after the events at the ranch that the body of Waldmont had been discovered in a notorious bordello, and that the bodies of Kross and his wife had also been found there in what was obviously a staged "affair of passion discovered by wronged husband" tableau that was being gleefully explained to all on the front page of the Denver Morning Examiner.

Deputy Bewley was quoted in his description of the events, which he explained involved Kross bursting into the room to discover his wife and the rake Waldmont in the height of their adulterous passion, drawn a gun and fired, killing his wife and wounding Waldmont who fired back with a pistol hidden under his pillow. Three dead, all because one man, a visitor to the great state of Colorado, couldn't restrain his animal passions.

It was all very lurid and the population of Golden was properly outraged and angered that such a libertine had perpetrated a crime of unmitigated unholy lust in their midst all under the guise of his fame, and their outrage began to bleed over onto our brave lads, who were bewildered and horrified that the Brotherhood could act so swiftly and precipitately to impugn not only the great Waldmont but also anyone who had been his friend.

Forsyth decided to make a recce of the ranch from cover, using a powerful spyglass, and found it much as described in the lurid stories in the Examiner. The bunkhouse was a burned out wreck. The Barn was a mere pile of smoking charred wood. He did spot the remains of what could have been an "organ pipe" rocket launcher, but could not risk a close inspection of the site.

After a brief interview with Deputy Bewley, who informed them that a wagon and team would be out at their disposal provided they were out of town by three pm that afternoon, the team made a brief shopping trip, asked a few questions at the morgue, collected their poor besmirched friend's corpse and their loaner transport, and quit town under a cloud, the townsfolk's scowls and the young ruffians' thrown stones.

The team had a day's journey ahead of them, and would have to camp since they had started out in the late afternoon. Fortunately the wilds of Colorado turned out to be considerably tamer than expectations, and our heroes were able to reach a viable campsite without incident. Their night was unbroken by visits from wild animals, injuns or rough types looking for trouble, and they began their journey saddened by their loss but with their spirits still up to the task of fighting the foul Brotherhood of Luxor. Indeed, the loss of their friend seemed to have set a steely resolve in each hero, a resolve to redeem their friend's reputation in the eyes of the easily led and the sensationalists that seemed to be everywhere.

Burke spotted a cloud of dust behind them and pointed it out to the others. Forsyth took his trusty spyglass and surveyed the scene. Bewley and a double handful of men were riding in a very determined manner along the same trail they had taken in their wagon. It did not bode well, and the heroes decided to pull the wagon off the road into the broken prairie, secure the horses, and set an ambush. If Bewley and his posse were not up to no good, they would ride by. If not, they would find a warm welcome. Accordingly each adventurer hid as best they could in the small ravines and behind the small rises that abounded.

Bewley's Posse rode up and dismounted, drew weapons and pushed out into the prairie, obviously looking for trouble.

Forsyth opened fire from cover, killing his target. Burke fired, killing his. The posse returned fire. Copperfield executed a masterly ambush from the rear, and the battle was joined in savage exchanges of gunfire. Early on the rifle Forsyth had "borrowed" proved to have been owned by a boob who didn't go out with a full load, and he was obliged to switch to his trusty pistol. Burke also suffered a catastrophic failure of his pistol and - possibly possessed by the spirit of his friend Waldmont - elected to make a lunatic charge with his sword across the broken ground. He was shot down before he could engage the enemy.

Copperfield spotted one of the posse making a run for his horse, clearly having no stomach for further violence and attempted to intercept him, but was unable to make contact.

Reverend Fogg used the confusion of the firefight to run to the road, cross it and the intervening space to the wagon, where he prepared himself to assault Bewley, who at the time was busy shooting at Burke.

Dead-Eye Pete was among the posse and he decided to attmept to get into hand-to-hand combat with Forsyth, and was shot-up quie badly for his pains. At this, his posse-mates broke and ran for their horses. Dead-eye made contact with Forsyth but was unable to prevail and the Englishman left the bully dead in the long grass, not before taking a number of wounds of his own.

And when Bewley stepped around the wagon, guns blazing in two-gun fashion, he was knocked unconscious by the waiting Reverend Fogg and tied up.

The field was won. Britannia was in the ascendant.

Burke was dragged to the wagon but his wounds proved beyond the healing powers of Reverend Fogg. Fortunately for Forsyth, Fogg was of more help to him and he was soon on his feet, hale if not hearty. Forsyth used a trick he had learned in "Injah" to revive Burke, but could do nothing beyond that, not being an actual doctor, or even medical orderly

Fogg decided to attempt a Herculean task and when Bewley came round he attacked the man with ... honesty! Fogg used his powers of oration, honed in the stews of London, Liverpool, and Belfast, and no lessin the foul, reeking swamps of Venus to attempt to bring Bewley, formerly an admitted bought-and-paid-for ally of Dirk Cairo (who, he said, owned the town of Golden) into the light, to make him no less than a fellow knight in the fight against the dastardly Brotherhood of Luxor.

The muttered unruly and ungenerous sentiments of his team-mates were shown to be unfounded when Bewley, gradually at first but then whole-heartedly underwent a dramatic change of allegiance and swore to fight Cairo should he return, and to establish the rule of true law in Golden. The look on Bewley's face as he began to truly understand the situation was matched by the looks on the faces of Fogg's fellow heroes at this wondrous transformation before their very eyes.

After reaching Denver, a train was taken to Dallas, where an airship was taken to New York, and a second then directly to London. There they learned that Waldmont and Wilhelm had been requested to attend Princess Aramaranda in Thoth. The Foreign Minister is anxious that this request be honoured because of the tense political situation on Mars. But there is a problem. Aramaranda cannot welcome a dead man, and who knows what she will say when she finds out the circumstances under which people believe he died?

The Foreign Minister hopes that Waldmont's brother can perhaps in some way explain matters.

With that in mind, the heroes are introduced to Waldmont's borther, who - to the Foreign Minister's dismay - turns out to be a far cry from the Great White Explorer his brother had been known as before the current bad business was revealed, but some sort of inventor-scientist, whose main claim to fame appears to be some sort of portable flame-thrower and a new-found drive to rehabilitate his family honour.

The Foreign Minister, not without a wry reflection on the nature of choices open to beggars, send the heroes on to Mars on a diplomatic courier.

Personal Letter, Venusstadt and later, Colorado, Captain Henry Forsyth (Ret)

Colorado, 1889

An ongoing letter to Clarence Forsyth, from Captain Henry Forsyth, RE. (Regretfully, retired.)

Denver, Colorado, America.

Dearest Brother,

I would have you know that I’m down to earth.

The business on Venus ended most unsatisfactorily. In the swamps, we were set upon by vile German assassins, I believe targeting my erstwhile famous, dare I say, friends.

Of course, they proved no match for British pluck and we turned the tables neatly on the villains and ‘All’s Well That Ends Well’ as the bard would say.

Still, we still had some alarms in trying to return. The blighter of a leader having run, as I might add I would expect from a Belgian, on the first encounter, tried to ambush us. Another foreigner trick and failure to fight like a man.

We captured the bounder, though I confess he was surprisingly fleet of foot for a man of his build and very at home in the swamps. Still, he sang like a canary, as I believe the expression is with the lower life.

Seems there was someone else behind all this.

We returned to Venusstadt. Naturally we stopped to change attire and then to the bank to call out this fiend, for that was his lair.

Yet, things again took on an unexpected turn. Another ambush! Why so many German thugs have an Irish name I cannot tell, yet seems always to be the case. Maybe they are damnable nationalists.

I regret to say many shots were fired and in a bank at that, a sad state of affairs. Despite poor odds, ultimately our British fighting once again proved superior. We followed those that fled our justice down and out into, well, I baulk to say it, the, er, lower recess.

It was most embarrassing when we returned to the hotel.

We then moved to investigate the warehouse belonging to this bounder. I will not trouble you with the details, but what we found was not only very illegal but most disturbing.

I now have to confess a most unfortunate incident. A number of villains opened fire on us in the warehouse, which was naturally returned. However, a stray bullet hit the case we were investigating. I can reveal that a Venus death flower was the content.

Naturally we all ran for our lives, friend and foe alike.

It is hard to explain what the draw of this flower is. I felt it touch me briefly, were I anything less than a British gentleman and officer, well, I hate to think what consequences would have entailed.

However, the enemy gunfire had clearly attracted the attention of the authorities. I regret to inform you that I was embarrassingly detained with my far more famous colleagues if I may be so bold as to describe them thus.

There followed an interesting discussion with I believe someone who may have been a member of the Zeppelin family. I think it may have been an opportunity missed, but who can truly tell in the very strange world I now find myself.

Frankly, it all ended rather embarrassingly. I was forced to resign my post on Venus to keep my reputation intact.

Further, my colleagues and I had to leave Venus, or otherwise be under a cloud.

Rest assured that my honour is intact and can assure you that no taint is attached to the family name.

Our flyer arrived in Denver, Colarado a week ago.

I will update you again soon.

Boulder, Colorado, America.

Once again, my felicitations to you and the family and I can but hope that all continue to prosper. Please give my humble regards to our parents.

We have tracked this vile smuggling ring to this part of world. I’ll forebear to say more, but trust you have received my coded letters and placed them as instructed. I hope they will not be necessary.

I do not know if the rest of America is like this, but it is much as the popularist papers depict. There is no discernible civilisation, everyone carries guns, law seems to be a matter of opinion rather than principle, it is close to anarchy.

Yet this allows a certain sense of freedom, certainly opportunities abound and an engineer such as myself could well make a fortune here. If only so many people weren’t trying to kill me!

We traced the smugglers to a warehouse in a small town within the state. We managed to gain entrance via something of a ruse, that owed its essence to the wooden horse of Troy. Please let father know that I didn’t entirely let my education in the classics go to waste.

That said, I cannot recommend being confined in a crate with others, especially when one insists on bringing a rifle. I can say that I don’t care how good a shot he was, there was one butt too many.

So, the ruse worked and thankfully we had avoided yet another gun battle. However, the foul villains had adopted the place as a landing for an ether flyer, the roof being its underside.

As its searchlight illuminated the place it smarmed with guards. Really do these people not understand the consequences of firing on a British officer? I may admit that it could be some time before a new uniform reaches me in these far places and that I’d had to resort to local dress, but even so!

It was touch and go to be sure, but the Rev. Fogg, who I may have mentioned in my previous despatches, surrounded himself with dynamite, so that the enemy dare not fire for fear of their own lives. He then dealt out some righteous justice, which allowed us to once again prevail.

Sadly, the ether flier was able to make good it’s escape during this interlude. So the villains remain at large.

We did however, find more evidence of their evil doing. Evidence that I may tell you of the utmost and shocking import. I pray that we have communicated this in time and the authorities in Europe have acted.

If you are reading this then those in London most certainly have. If there is war or disorder on the continent, then they have not and we will be swept with a double crisis of both plague and war.

My prayers are with all of you.

Now to the final chapter of this letter, which I need to send post haste. A sad tale.

As befits our calling as British men, we attempted to beard one of leaders of this dreadful conspiracy in his lair.

We were grievously outmatched, something I realised from the outset. Yet we were honour bound to try. It was clear that some dreadful weapons were being constructed, we had to know what.

But the scientist working on them and as I now know his wife, were being held captive. Naturally we resolved to free them, despite the odds.

We have the company of an interesting gentleman, Copperfield by name, but of slightly dubious character, if I might make so bold. I do not deny him a gentlemen, for he clearly is, but I should not like to play cards against him.

He gallantly undertook to enter the main house to bring out the hostages, all with the intent of remaining unseen.

The rest us positioned ourselves to best advantage. The ever-gallant Waldmart to the front with a posse (as they say in these parts) of hired men to overview the courtyard. This yard was surrounded by buildings on 3 sides. In military terms my dear brother, in was a killing ground.

The heroic Rev. Fogg assembled a diversionary tactic, a cart laden with inflammable material and dynamite. He really is the most fearsome and oft reckless fellow.

For my part I took the rear of the house to be able to see and relay any signals from inside. I could also rush up to assist from this position.

The plan proceeded well at first, Copperfield entering the house unobserved. From my vantage point I could see the lady hostage held in the kitchen by a distracted guard.

On the other side, were clearly two of the main villains in discussion. Why he chose to interrupt these and place the odds against himself I have yet to find out, when the other way would have suited the purpose far better.

Yet one cannot judge the actions that men make in the heat of battle; each has their own rationale.

I gathered he’d come of the worst of the affair and rushed to the least cover his retreat.

He got out badly wounded, but with a guard stumbling out hard on his heals. I managed to knock this man down, but with more coming needed to look to hold them up and my attention was to the door.

I confess I mis-judged in expecting Copperfield to take out the now prone guard. Instead, he ran off into the night and the cad shot me in the back.

I too now had to retreat in ignominy.

Meanwhile Fogg’s diversion had hit home drawing many guards, but in the event too few.

Waldmart used his position well initially, but kept advancing beyond reason until he placed him and his men in the killing zone.

Somehow Fogg ran through it all and entered the house that was vacant of anyone but the enemy. I believe the Lord must truly look after his own.

By now, I’d come round the side of the building and managed to rally and draw a couple of our hands to me.

Although I placed them behind cover to give fire, such was the intensity of incoming shot that one of them was killed before he even got a finger to his trigger.

So, it was I witnessed a scene that will haunt all my years. The brave Waldmont, the man that had become a legend, the man that had survived beyond reason, that generous sole, a colossus that strode earth and then the heavens.

It was my fate, to watch him breath his last as the ceaseless gunfire cut him to ribbons. Even as I watched I wanted to run to him and try and change the outcome. For I like to think that not only was he companion in arms, but my friend. But I am a soldier, we know the battlefield. I could only die by such an action.

A few more shots were fired, but with little effect and I retreated in the best order I could, the last of our hired men being shot in the back as we made our way into the night.

Remarkably Fogg also made it out. There was a gallant attempt to subdue the main villain and hold him as a shield, which failed but to which the cad surprisingly showed some spine and held a fisticuffs duel with Fogg.

Despite being outmatched and surrounded by armed guards, Fogg once again proved his worth, landing a blow to stun the foe.

Recognising his predicament, he also realised that blooding his opponents’ nose was what he would have to settle for. He used the opportunity to also retire in good order.

Thankfully we met up as arranged. The good reverend was able to staunch my wound and I’m as near full health as can be expected.

We are now licking our wounds, if you forgive the crude expression. I am stunned by the loss of Waldmont, it leaves a big hole in our little party which has fought so hard together.

In the military such things are expected, yet this has been a different experience, we fight not on orders, but to do the right thing. We are dealing with injustice and criminal activity because we are British and it is the right thing to do.

We have a common purpose, which binds us more tightly, than I can express. I therefore mourn my friend and benefactor of our party.

Alas I have little time to do so, as I fear the villains may move against us.

I am disturbed that we could not recover Waldmonts body. To leave it behind feels like a betrayal and I am sure it will be ill used by the enemy. The Spartans of old would surely not have failed so, but they were not faced with Winchester rifles.

Dear Brother, I do not know the future holds for me, but it is of necessity one of great danger. Should I fail in this endeavour, then know the affection that I hold my family. Know also that I will have perished in service to God, Queen and Country, although on a battlefield that may never be revealed.

Respectfully yours,

Henry

Interlude: What The Papers Say About Episode 27:

Page One.

Page Two

Interlude: Let's See The Evidence From The Safe

The letters from the safe were my own addition to the campaign clues. I did not like the way some of the information was supposed to flow to the characters and thought I could do better.

• The campaign calls for the adventurers to contact the authorities with evidence and, well, I did not think the evidence as presented in the book was compelling.
• The campaign games convene once a month and the continuity suffers as a result of the players having a real world/game word ratio of 716 hours/4 hours nibbling at their brains.
• I've been a Call of Cthulhu GM since the game was published in the UK, and have a fondness for "hands on" clues the players can pass around and use as discussion points.

And so I got busy with OfficeLibre.

There was a wrinkle in that our virtual desktop of choice, Roll20, only takes such documents into the player journals as jpgs, and the scale reduction is fierce, so to maintain readability I had to use 36 pt type and size my paper so the letters would fit on a single page, export the documents to PDF, then import the PDFs, which converts them to jpgs and minisizes them.

Worth the effort, I reckon. In real life the paper would have been distressed with coffee-cup rings, scribbled warehouse nonsense, accidental tears and so forth. This takes too much time to represent digitally for me.

Episode 27: A Plan Goes Awry

It looked good on paper.

Letters recovered from the safe "acquired" for Dirk Cairo's now-destroyed warehouse provided evidence of a chilling plan, a plot to blanket the capital cities of England, France and Germany in the dread Red Sands poison, thereby fomenting chaos in the form of an uncontrollable outbreak of the Red Sands plague that would fill the streets with maddened, infected lunatics, each a centre for further infection.

This was a plan designed to bring down the three great powers of Earth, and possibly the entire planet over time. The implications were astounding and profoundly disturbing.

The grand design appeared to be an attempt to strip Mars of its British and German troops, which would be needed on Earth once the standing forces had been exposed to Red Sands. By the time they got home, home would no longer exist.

Naturally, once the information had been digested and a picture of the intent synthesized, the team contacted the Explorer's Club via telegraph, using the talents of an impressionable young telegrapher named Dick, suitably reimbursed and impressed by the legendary Waldmont as to the need for anonymity and confidentiality. Once the Explorer's Club had time to digest the message, Waldmont brought his influence to bear and was soon in touch with Chief Inspector Smythe, who not only took the threat seriously but communicated his concern to his counterparts in Paris and Bonn. If there were any truth in these allegations, the forces of Law and Order would root out those responsible and bring them to justice.

Now the adventurers turned their attention to the goings on at the Cairo Ranch. They believed that there they would find an example of the cryptic "Kross Distribution Device" mentioned in the letters, and so a plan was hatched to infiltrate the ranch using hired guns as backup. A preliminary recce of the property revealed that there were a large number of guards, a handful of mystrious figures dressed in black clothing, "Dead-Eye" Pete Blackwell (a notorious bully) and a strange man with a German accent and woman working in the kitchen of the Ranch House.

The team surmised that the German man was Hans Kross and the woman was his Daughter, possibly the method by which Cairo was abe to compell Kross to work for him, and began hatching a new plan to rescue the girl and her father. This plan was formed up after overhearing a conversation in which it was obvious that one of them had been attacked by the cook, and that she was being held against her will.

The ranch compound consisted of the Ranch House to the North, facing south, a large barn to the East, and a long Bunkhouse to the West, forming an open courtyard, open to the South.

The team would arrange themselves around the ranch at dusk, armed with rifles, to suport Copperfield in his stealthy infiltration of the ranch. Copperfield wuld enter the Ranch House and rescue the woman. If he experienced troube he would signal either by shining a lantern at a window, or by initiating gunfire. At this signal, Rev. Fogg and a hired hand would push a wagon loaded with flammables and explosives into the corner of the bunkhouse in which the guards slept and lived while on site, using this as a distraction to draw off guards.

Copperfield entered the house from the rear and made his way carefully through the house. Once inside he could clearly hear two distinct conversations: A pair of men, one with a German accent to the West, and a man and woman to the East, the end of the house containing the kitchen. Copperfield decided to investigate the voices to the west, and improvised a bold plan. He knocked on the door behind which he could hear the voices and pretended to be a confused member of the Ranch's staff. This served ony to enrage the German man who ordered the other to deal with the situation. That worthy ripped open the door and came face to face with Copperfield.

Copperfield abandoned his obfuscation and drew his pistol, but the man opposite him was quick and backed away, drawing his own weapon as Copperfield shot - and missed. There followed a rapid exchange of close-range pistol fire that was largely ineffective. Copperfield wisely decided that discretion was the better part of valour and broke off to retreat through the back door.

Unfortunately, a number of guards were alerted and intercepted his escape with volleys of gunfire that was terribly effective, wounding him twice as he blundered into and past Captain Forsyth, who was unfortunately at that very moment come down from his overwatch position and about to enter the house.

A guard burst out of the doorway and turned right to see Copperfield staggering away, and attempted a close range rifle shot that missed. He did not see Captain Forsyth to his left, who shot him at close range, doing no damage but knocking him prone. From which position that worthy fired, doing severe damage to Forsth, who reeled off to the West to gain cover from this mad sharpshooter. Copperfield ran for the cover of the East corner of the Ranch House.

Simultaneously, Reverend Fogg piloted his burning wagon into the southwest corner of the bunkhouse with the aid of a hired hand, using the resulting conflagration as a diversion. To this end he ran into the courtyard yelling for help and some of the guards now pouring out of the bunkhouse did indeeed race to help Fogg, who was raving in a most realistic fashion about his daughter being on the blazing wagon. The hired hand meanwhile had raced Northward along the bunkhouse wall to give whatever aide he could to those in the Ranch House, and as the guards approached the blazing wagon to rescue Rev. Fogg's non-existent daughter the dynamite exploded and although the blast missed them, each was pounded by flying bricks from the chimney and shaken. Fogg raced for the Ranch House.

It was at this moment that Waldmont, heretofore ensconced in cover out in the middle distance to the South of the courtyard with half a dozen hired hands to act as sharpshooters, decided that he would be better employed in closer contact with the enemy and had his team run into the courtyard.

All along a minor drama was playing out in the kitchen, where Lana Kross (Doctor Kross' wife) had used the distraction of the attack to launch her own assault on her guard with a skillet, to good effect eventually. Dr Kross, on the other hand, was happy to seek out ever more secure places in the barn. No hero, he.

Copperfield found cover and went to ground, wounded as he was. Captain Forsyth made his way to the front of the house where he attempted shots at the mysterious shadowy figure stalking him along the front wall of the Ranch House. Waldmont halted to give fire and ordered a hired hand to aide Forsyth. Reverend Fogg Burst into the house and ran straight for the obese German who was loudly shouting demands that the guards kill "the English scum". Fogg burst past the astounded guards and attempted a grapple on the German, who shrugged off this attack, ordered the guards to lower their weapons and challenged Fogg to a bare-knuckle boxing match there and then.

It was around this point that Waldmont was shot by a guard from the barn, and critically wounded, falling to the ground like a sack of King Edwards. In short order the Hired Hands, who had been about to decide whether to cut and run, were gunned down, as was the Hired Hand sent to help Forsyth.

Forsyth looked on helplessly as Waldmont, far out of reach and enfiladed by guards, gave a shudder and succumbed to his wounds.

Reverend Fogg exchanged a few spirited blows with the German but knew almost immediately he was outmatched, so he took an opportunity to leap our of the door and run for cover.

Captain Forsythe and his one remaining Hired Hand found a Bunkhouse window and attempted to ambush Dead-Eye Pete, who had made his appearance at the Bunkhouse door. The gunfire on both sides was inconclusive, so Forsyth and the Hired Hand ran for cover. Unfortunately, Dead-Eye Pete was able to shoot the Hired Hand as they fled. Fortunately, he could not shoot Forsyth, who was in very bad shape as it was, and holding himself together by sheer willpower.

The operation was over, and none of the objectives had been achieved.

---

Clear Credit: Map of the Cairo Ranch from page 115 of the Space 1889:Red Sands setting book published by Pinnacle Entertainment Group. Map reproduced in part to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. I do not have clear attribution for the art itself, the book citing Interior art by: Richard Clark, Christophe Swal Cartography by: Jordan Peacock. If the responsible artist will contact me I will attribute properly.

Interlude: What the Papers Say About Episode 26:

Episode 26: The Warehouse Plan

So the team assembled to enact The Plan.

The basic idea was sound. Forsyth suggested the team secure a large crate, secrete themselves inside and have the crate delivered to Dirk Cairo's Boulder Warehouse. There was some lively discussion, then some more when Waldmont insisted on bringing his rifle, which demanded the crate be able to accommodate it. At this point Wilhelm, Burke and Copperfield refused to have anything to do with the insanity and decided to go drinking and gambling in the low dives of Boulder¹.

Fogg, Forsyth and Waldmont constructed a special lid for their crate, one that could be secured from the inside. Fogg insisted that the crate be clearly marked "Fragile" and "This Way Up", and all were careful to arrange enough screened gaps that breathing would not be a problem yet their hiding place would not be discovered. Having forged the necessary paperwork (carefully checked at the Denver Showroom last session), teamsters were hired and our modern day Athenians locked gthemselves into their present day Trojan Horse.

The plan worked beautifuly, and in no time at all the crate was delivered and brought inside the warehouse just before the close of business and a change of shift for the guards.

Once darkness fell the team opened the lid and went exploring. The office was located and examined, but Forsyth, perhaps elated by the way the guards did not seem to notice his lantern's light through the windows, attempted to crack the floor safe, and made such a pig's ear of the affair that the combination dial snapped off!

Meanwhile Fogg and Waldmont were busy prying open crates. The warehouse was aparently used to store old rifles a couple of 18 pounders and dynamite.

So it was a little inconvenient when two of the guards, alerted by safebreaking and crate opening, came into theater and demanded an explanation with extreme prejudice. it was about now that our heroes realized that the ceiling was actually the lower hull of an aether flyer. The noise of a collapsible ladder being lowered from a now-open port added a touch of drama to an already drama-soaked situation. A crewman emerged, spotted Waldmont and challenged him, and unbearably bright lights suddenly glared from the hull of the aether flyer, lighting the warehouse brighter than the noonday sun. The other guards were not going to miss that kind of light and they burst in on the team.

The adventurers gave a good account of themselves, and the crewman on the ladder was killed. More gunfire rang through the warehouse and as the battle raged the stalwart heroes realized that the roof of the warehouse was opening, powered by sandbag couterweights, and the aether flyer cast off, sailing into the night sky, plunging the warehouse into darkness again.

Although the guards were implacable and extremely violent, the team were able to kill all but one, whom Rev. Fogg subdued with his trademark thump in the snoot, this time tempered with less-than-lethal intent. This worthy was tied up while further exploration was undertaken.

A basement office was discovered, which yeilded up more evidence of Brotherhood skullduggery and a mask recognizable as a Greek theatrical "Crius" mask. The plot thickened. There was also a communication, speaking of some sort of test at "The Lodge"

Waldmont used some of his considerable financial clout to persuade the remaining guard that he should relocate his family to California - at once, and the adventurers went to recce the ranch at Castle Rock. In town they discovered many disgruntled former ranchhands complaining how they had been replaced with a new crew of thugs. An inestigation of the ranch from a nearby concealed vantage revealed a concentration of guards that precluded a frontal assault, so the team retired to consider their plan of action.

It was at this time that they made the acquaintence of a man who claimed to be a member of some odd American fraternal club whose entire membership apart from the erstwhile speaker had vanished wthout trace durng a planned initiation ceremony. Such was the scare thrown into the informant that he announced he was gettin' outta town. He did draw the adventurer's a map to what he called the "lodge" - which appeared to be in the middle of a forest.

The three adventurers bolstered their courage, each according to his tastes, and they set out for the location on their crude map, which turned out to be not a lodge at all, but a dry well with a meta staple ladder set into the shaft walls. By the well was a wrecked carst and the corpse of a horse showing signs of wolf attacks. Nearby the corpse of a wolf was discovered. Both animals looked oddly decayed and battered, and here was a faint odour coming from each corpse.

Acquiring some miner's helmets and rope from ghe wrecked cart, the three adventurers descended in to the well, which opened into a cave. The walls were adorned with priitive paintings, though Rev. Fogg was dubious that these were genuine aboriginal work and declared they were crude forgeries.

Progressing through the cave, encountering more cave paintings, and saltings of golden nuggets, the brave adventurers began postulating that this was all set dressing for some sort of ritualistic parade. There was something in the placement of the nuggets and the progression of the cave paintings that was suggestive of a serial promenade for an initiation. It certainly fitted with the naming of this place as "The Lodge".

And so eventually the team made their way into a very large cavern where a terrible scene confronted them. Dead bodies scattered around, well over a dozen. All torn and blistered.

They also found an imrovised fortification blocking a small side-chamber, also with a population of dead bodies bearing terrible wounds. There were signs that the smaller group had tried to use fire in their defense, and though they were dead Forsyth noted that the fortifications were all in place and the team had to break through them to cofirm their worst suspicions. All dead, all wearing robes. All with horrible wounds.

The presence of a well with what looked like clean water, a chalice of ornate design and more of the cave paintings suggested to the increasingly worried adventurers that this would have been the scene of the triumphant conclusion of whatever initiation was to be held. The team decided to investgate deeper into the main cavern. Perhaos there was more to be found than dead bodies.

The corpses were naked, all except for one individual, killed in what was onviously a fanciful "summoning circle". This body had golden robes and a ceremonial wand or sceptre clutched in its hand. In front of the circle was a deep hole, possibly a dry well. At the bottom of this was some sort of device, massive, clock-like, with broken glass around it and some remains of red powder. The well walls were covered in red powder.

And now the team became aware that the floor had a faint red tint, as though it was covered in a fine dusting of red chalk. Fogg, Waldmont and Forsyth looked at each other in horror. They too had a fine coating of red dust on them, red dust that could only be ... the dreaded Red Sands!

A horrible narrative suggested itself, of an innocent initiation iterrupted by the erruption of the Red Sands and its distribution over the cave at the height of the proceedings. Of the victims overcome, then tearing each other apart. Of a desperate last stand, and the defenders, possibly exhausted after repelling their transformed former friends for what may have been hours, finally sucumbing to the Red Sands poison themselves and tearing each other apart.

And now a terrible imperative overpowered the team. They must wash themselves and their clothing, ridding themselves of the dread Red Sands before they became infected. The well!

Using the well water and a canteen, the team carefully cleaned themselves as best they could, and then exited the cave as fast as possible. Once in the open air they paused only long enough to dynamite the entrance and make sure no other innocent could be exposed to this foul terror weapon.

During their escape each of the adventurers had felt themselves fighting off the infection. Fortunately for them their constitutions were of stout British origin, honed by hardship and privation and butressed by sheer British pluck.

1. Or to put it another way: The three players owning those characters couldn't make the session↑