Aether Shanties RP (PM if interested/Started)
- Thread starter Sehnsucht Engel
- Start date
Yay! Accepted! Though its a shame not nearly as many pirates were accepted. Still, this should be fun. Can't wait to get started!
LETS DO THIS THING.
LETS DO THIS THING.
I'm seeing it, to put it in D&D terms, as the Lawful Evil Empire vs. the Chaotic Evil pirates.3quency said:...you just wanted to use that image didn't you
Well in the actual game book the tone they've taken is quite Larger-than-Life, Swashbucklery Black and White, so at the very least the Imps are Team Worsebadguys.
I understand the game itself is very much a pirate adventure game, but I'm not familiar enough with the original game world to make that distinction. As such, I can't help but look at it as one evil vs. another evil.
Besides, isn't that better then the usual "good vs. evil" dichotomy.
side note: Remember, imperialistic Europe/America viewed themselves as the good guys throughout much of history; bringing civilization to the rest of the world and that the world we enjoy today would not exist save for the short lived imperial century.
For more, see:
Also: Actually, the image was a last minute thing, though I have been enjoying all the galactic empire propaganda I've been finding.
With regards to the sidenote: I'm fairly well-read when it comes to Imperialism so I do know the basic psychology behind it, yes. However I'd not seen the vid before, that made for some interesting viewing thanks Hiei.
I suppose game-wise it just comes down to a matter of personal preference. I'm certainly not going to play Black Annis as if she's a villain and knows it, but at the same time I recognise that she has a lot of villainous qualities and in story terms the Empire are definitely the villains.
They are, after all, responsible for the mess the world's in. But I agree that they don't necessarily see it that way themselves. Cackling self-acknowledgement just makes for bad bad-guys.
I suppose game-wise it just comes down to a matter of personal preference. I'm certainly not going to play Black Annis as if she's a villain and knows it, but at the same time I recognise that she has a lot of villainous qualities and in story terms the Empire are definitely the villains.
They are, after all, responsible for the mess the world's in. But I agree that they don't necessarily see it that way themselves. Cackling self-acknowledgement just makes for bad bad-guys.
Everyone is the hero of their own story.
Unless it's self-aware or for little kids or something. That's where card-carrying villains should probably stay.
Unless it's self-aware or for little kids or something. That's where card-carrying villains should probably stay.
I do agree on calling BS on the whole "Pirates as good guys" deal which has been fairly prevalent since that lil' movie Disney did with Johnny Depp innit...
But in this setting, they've actually managed to make it so that pirates are more like... Economically-minded freedom fighters, as opposed to being actually much like historical pirates. So... Yes, definitely seems to be a big, obvious "Good Versus Evil" deal going.
Still, I don't think that changes too much. As has been mentioned (Thank god), any good villain sees himself as the good guy. In fact, they generally see themselves as the best guy - hence why they can break moral expectations and such and think they come out smelling like roses.
Side-note: Awesome lil' vid, I had never heard of that series and am now officially hooked.
But in this setting, they've actually managed to make it so that pirates are more like... Economically-minded freedom fighters, as opposed to being actually much like historical pirates. So... Yes, definitely seems to be a big, obvious "Good Versus Evil" deal going.
Still, I don't think that changes too much. As has been mentioned (Thank god), any good villain sees himself as the good guy. In fact, they generally see themselves as the best guy - hence why they can break moral expectations and such and think they come out smelling like roses.
Side-note: Awesome lil' vid, I had never heard of that series and am now officially hooked.
I'll give you that - the empire is definitely villainous, and all the Imperial characters have some elements of evil in them (Even Adriana is a duty obsessed individual, blinded by ambition and propaganda who thinks of spreading the "correct" imperial ways around the world; by choice or force as needed). What more, while obviously self-aware villains can be fun in some contexts, that context is probably not this game.3quency said:
For me it has less to do with "The empire are the bad guys" and more to do with the implication that, therefore "the pirates are the good guys"; no group that sails around, stealing and killing can really earn the "good guy" title in my book. So, by extension, the question is which evil is the lesser of the two.
Does the order and protection the empire offers, for all their segregation, conquest, and negative-persistence, outweigh the absolute freedom at the expense of society, livelihoods, and lives of the pirates? If you prefer order, then the empire are the relative "good guys". If you prefer freedom, then the pirates are the relative "good guys". If neither appeals to you, I think you're in the wrong game
On that note, this conversation has gone off the deep end; sorry ^_^
Glad people are enjoying Crash Course: World History. It's been one of my favorite youtube series since I discovered it 37 episodes ago
Nah, the other way around. Just searched Devianart for "steampunk plague doctor", nothing to it really.3quency said:
@hiei: You forget the medical care. Glad to see another fan of that series.
Well, you certainly don't have to worry about some of the more self-aware pirates thinking that they're good. In Sheska's case, shes mainly out to have fun, make some gold, and get drunk. That, and possibly find some eventual romance. But otherwise, she doesn't pretend to be the good guy: She thoroughly enjoys getting into fights and brawls, and doesn't have any compulsion about brutal killings.hiei82 said:
She just hates Imperials, really.
You know, we could always have a competition to see who the maddest doctor is. I'd imagine it would be rather interesting.Terratina. said:But that's my character! [small]jkblaze96 said:[/small]
Terratina. said:But that's my character! [small]jkblaze96 said:
The first competition will revolve around who can perform the most complicated surgery with as little anesthesia as possible, the more limbs you replace, the less drugs you use, the more points you get.3quency said:
Bonus points if they're your own limbs.Redryhno said:Terratina. said:But that's my character! [small]jkblaze96 said:The first competition will revolve around who can perform the most complicated surgery with as little anesthesia as possible, the more limbs you replace, the less drugs you use, the more points you get.3quency said:
Like I said in the group chat, the only thing that would make this rp better is giant robots.hiei82 said:
Would be awesome
I rest my case.
<spoiler=House band>
The floating city of High Tortuga bobs and sways slightly below its mighty gasbags, the massive chains that anchors it to the peaks flexing as it shifts in a mountain breeze. The habitations aboard High Tortuga are a maze of low-level, sprawling structures. These residences are crammed onto the main platform. It's mostly dosshouses, inns and taverns. It's a dangerous place during the day, but at night it's even worse. You better watch your steps, both the fall from the platforms and the inhabitants could kill you.
Several airships hangs anchored at the docks of the city. One of them is The Mermaid, another pirate ship among many, which is known to some, because of having both a captain and a first mate that's mutants. At the moment, The Mermaid is silent and close to empty, except for a couple of unlucky bastards who were put on guard duty.
The rest of the crew has been celebrating their latest raid of a merchant ship, which turned out to have a much better cargo than expected, wares which they've already sold. In the end, it's just another excuse to drink and brawl.
Winged Beth and most of her crew is currently at The Laughing Gull, a rather large and crowded tavern, with its own house band. The band is a mixed group of skyfolk and neovictorians. Those who fights at The Laughing Gull, gets thrown out by the strong automata at the door, who works for the owner. The owner is a skyfolk man of medium size, wearing brown clothes and working the bar. The captain has been there for hours, enjoying the music and the booze. The morning is creeping closer. It's still dark outside, but the sky is starting to turn a lighter grey.
Beth makes her way through the crowd in the tavern, towards the bar to order another mug. She has had a bit of rum already, but she's not close to as drunk or rowdy as some of those in the crew. She needs to keep an eye on her crew, as she feels responsible for them and might get the blame if someone did something stupid. So far the night has gone by without any major issues. Only five people have been thrown out.
She nods at the owner with a smile, when he prioritizes her order. Being recognized as a captain does have its advantages. She turns around and heads back to her table. A neobediun man is lying passed out on the floor. At least she hopes he's just passed out and not dead. It does look like he's breathing and she saw him fall off his chair earlier. She steps over him, careful not to spill her rum.
Beth sits back down at her table. Six members of her crew are sitting at the same table.
"Tis be a mighty fine night." She says, even after a few years as a pirate she doesn't feel comfortable talking like that. It's probably because she had once been writing propaganda, and if you wanted people to take you seriously, you better know how to write and talk properly. "I hope everyone is feeling as good as I am."
She raises her mug and drinks heartily. The smell alone could knock her off her feet. The alcohol made her body shiver. Beth wasn't one to drink rum because of the taste. It was a fast way to get drunk. She had often used it to repress bad memories or emotions. It made her happy.
She lowers the mug and sees a few more pirates entering the tavern. They're not part of her crew, but she hasn't rented the whole tavern. She wouldn't do that, as she considers it a waste of money and they might end up missing out on good company.
When a female with red hair among them sees Beth, she gets a perplexed look on her face and whispers something to a younger girl who entered with her group. Beth is used to being an object of attention, she is a misbegotten, but this feels different. She shrugs her shoulders and blames it on the rum. The redhaired woman heads for the bar, while the girl shifts her gaze twice, between Beth and something that appears to be outside the tavern, then she follows the woman.
<spoiler=OOC>All the pirate players are sitting at the same table, unless they want their posts to take place somewhere else
The floating city of High Tortuga bobs and sways slightly below its mighty gasbags, the massive chains that anchors it to the peaks flexing as it shifts in a mountain breeze. The habitations aboard High Tortuga are a maze of low-level, sprawling structures. These residences are crammed onto the main platform. It's mostly dosshouses, inns and taverns. It's a dangerous place during the day, but at night it's even worse. You better watch your steps, both the fall from the platforms and the inhabitants could kill you.
Several airships hangs anchored at the docks of the city. One of them is The Mermaid, another pirate ship among many, which is known to some, because of having both a captain and a first mate that's mutants. At the moment, The Mermaid is silent and close to empty, except for a couple of unlucky bastards who were put on guard duty.
The rest of the crew has been celebrating their latest raid of a merchant ship, which turned out to have a much better cargo than expected, wares which they've already sold. In the end, it's just another excuse to drink and brawl.
Winged Beth and most of her crew is currently at The Laughing Gull, a rather large and crowded tavern, with its own house band. The band is a mixed group of skyfolk and neovictorians. Those who fights at The Laughing Gull, gets thrown out by the strong automata at the door, who works for the owner. The owner is a skyfolk man of medium size, wearing brown clothes and working the bar. The captain has been there for hours, enjoying the music and the booze. The morning is creeping closer. It's still dark outside, but the sky is starting to turn a lighter grey.
Beth makes her way through the crowd in the tavern, towards the bar to order another mug. She has had a bit of rum already, but she's not close to as drunk or rowdy as some of those in the crew. She needs to keep an eye on her crew, as she feels responsible for them and might get the blame if someone did something stupid. So far the night has gone by without any major issues. Only five people have been thrown out.
She nods at the owner with a smile, when he prioritizes her order. Being recognized as a captain does have its advantages. She turns around and heads back to her table. A neobediun man is lying passed out on the floor. At least she hopes he's just passed out and not dead. It does look like he's breathing and she saw him fall off his chair earlier. She steps over him, careful not to spill her rum.
Beth sits back down at her table. Six members of her crew are sitting at the same table.
"Tis be a mighty fine night." She says, even after a few years as a pirate she doesn't feel comfortable talking like that. It's probably because she had once been writing propaganda, and if you wanted people to take you seriously, you better know how to write and talk properly. "I hope everyone is feeling as good as I am."
She raises her mug and drinks heartily. The smell alone could knock her off her feet. The alcohol made her body shiver. Beth wasn't one to drink rum because of the taste. It was a fast way to get drunk. She had often used it to repress bad memories or emotions. It made her happy.
She lowers the mug and sees a few more pirates entering the tavern. They're not part of her crew, but she hasn't rented the whole tavern. She wouldn't do that, as she considers it a waste of money and they might end up missing out on good company.
When a female with red hair among them sees Beth, she gets a perplexed look on her face and whispers something to a younger girl who entered with her group. Beth is used to being an object of attention, she is a misbegotten, but this feels different. She shrugs her shoulders and blames it on the rum. The redhaired woman heads for the bar, while the girl shifts her gaze twice, between Beth and something that appears to be outside the tavern, then she follows the woman.
<spoiler=OOC>All the pirate players are sitting at the same table, unless they want their posts to take place somewhere else
[HEADING=2]Imperial City of Desolation: June 17th, 2150; 10:46 A.M.[/HEADING]
Docks:
Rear-Admiral Lanester sat in the back of the carriage, staring angrily out the door at the decrepit docks. Her left leg sat crossed over her right in a way "unbecoming of a lady", with her right leg shaking with nervous energy. She glanced back at her orders, checking and double checking them to ensure she had read them correctly. To her regret, she had; the last three times as well.
Having received her orders from Lord-Governor Havering, she immediately called for the carriage she now occupied. All she had said was "Yes, Sir" and saluted, but she wished she had said every other word the Governor had inspired. On the surface they seemed simple enough - sail east toward Helium City then on to the coast, where they would turn northward until they reached the arctic. The orders were to secure a ruin of the old world in the northern most reaches; specifically a weapon the empire heard rumors of. Then, once they had acquired said item they were to return to Old Borealis with the artifact with the greatest of haste. All-in-all, it was, as she had seen, simple. Save three facts and one gut feeling. The first was that; of all the cities to set sail from, Desolation was the furthest from the ruins. This showed just how little the empire cared about the mission. The second was that; though the IAN could have organized a fleet for the mission but had not. Were the artifact truly as important as her orders suggested; a fleet should be sent to secure it. Her gut and experience - combined with the cruel smile Lord-Governor Havering had given her with the orders - left her with the feeling that the mission was little more then a joke. The final line in her orders merely showed how cruel of a joke it was.
"Your return is requisite on the successful acquisition of the device in question; which is of vital importance to the noble cause of the empire. His holiness, Emperor Victor III, personally wishes you fair winds and safe return and the greatest of success. This mission is of the utmost importance and..." it said, dragging on for another page and a half of the Emperors blessings. It couldm of course be shortened to two statements: "You must go, and don't come come back without the device." The order made her sick. Given her ships compliment - an ex-pirate, a broken soldier, a radical doctor, Automaton who were barely functional, misbegotten well above their rank, and a near complete lack of high-born (save those mentioned before and herself); their real goal was obvious. "The empire no longer requires your services; now die in a way befitting your rank."
She briefly considered tearing up the orders; refusing them outright, but the fact that the Emperor had supposedly chosen them for this mission personally denied her that option; she may not have liked the orders; but Victor III's will was law: and that law was absolute. Her only options were to go pirate - blasphemy - or find an artifact in the ruins and return with it; then declared her retirement before they could try the same strategy again. Here, she laughed; remembering the last two on the mission who were not well received; the ship's liberal Rear-Admiral, and her Skyfolk Bodyguard &, unbeknownst to all outside the steam-carriage, lover. She took a moment to glance at said lover - sitting across from her in the vehicle, and smiled. He looked as angry as she did; if not more so. It wasn't hard to see why; he held no loyalty to the Emperor or the Empire; the only fact that was keeping her from truly considering the pirate alternative. She closed the blinds of the carriage, leaned across to him, and took his lips; a luxury she would not be able to enjoy much once they set sail.
"At least it wasn't all bad" she thought, as the vehicle pulled to a stop not far from their vessel
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________-
City Outskirts:
Exeter St. John stared out into the wilds of the American Wastes the way he had for the last several hours, for the same reason he had for the same number of hours: looking for his hated enemy the pirate hoards. Glancing at the sky, he could see he only had a few more hours before he would need to return to the Invincible; it was sailing day and the weather was excellent. Fortuitously, he had already seen to the supplies he needed before the voyage and had them delivered to the ship by some Automatons; they really were the best kind of servants. His vigil continued until he had to leave, though his mind refused to stay focused on the task at hand; wandering instead to the event some hours previous.
It was an interesting "request" to say the least.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________-
H.M.S. Invincible - Upper Deck
The docks were alive with the sounds of life, as goods from around the empire poured into the city for the nobility to enjoy and the IAN to use. It was a busy time aboard the Invincible as well, with the ship preparing for launch. A fresh coat of paint adorned the vessel, and a hundred Automatons moved supplies aboard under the watchful eye of the quartermaster: Anastacia "Black Annis" Baker-Cromwell. Or rather, it would have been under her watchful eye were it not for the constant tinkering of the ships doctor: Vasco Roque. The sounds of the lively dock overwrote any complaints that Black Annis could muster however, as Vasco finished the work on the suit. One of the Automaton's brought aboard a new cannon, but dropped it heavily on the ship. It wasn't enough force to damage the vessel or the cannon, but it rattled the ship and made a loud noise; more then enough to draw the chagrin of Black Annis; at least until Vasco took control again.
The sailing was a long time coming; they had been in dry-dock for nearly a week for repairs following a particularly ferocious pirate attack; made evident by the three large holes that had been in the starboard side. Needless to say, they had come out better off in the battle compared to the three sunk ships that now littered the ground near the edge of the great plains. The Invincible was after all an Imperial Frigate; a ship that few craft could hope to out maneuver or out gun. All in all, it had been a costly battle; losing many good men in the fight. Fortuitously, they were mostly Misbegotten and Automaton; and at the worst low class Neovictorians; all dime-a-dozen crew members. In fact, only a single Automaton had survived the assault; most being lost in boarding attempts (successful or otherwise)
That was where the automaton's bringing supplies came in; about a quarter of them were destined to re-crew the H.M.S. Invincible. They were mostly old models; few naval ships got new models as such automatons tended to be expensive and permanently deactivate (read: die) at the same rates as the older ones. Thinking on it, Feron-12 - the sole survivor of the previous automaton crew - was a newer model then even some of these, showing that maybe the idea of old Automatons for the navy was flawed. It hardly mattered of course; they had not the money for such Automaton's with any sense of frequency - Feron-12 being a special case given strange circumstances. When all was said and done however, the ship was finally ready to go - or would be by early afternoon. Once the Admiral returned with their new orders and their first mate returned from wherever he was lurking, they would be in a position to sail and return to their main objective: the eradication of piracy in all its many forms.
A more noble quest could not exist.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________--
H.M.S. Invincible - Lower Deck
[img/]http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3636/3661326686_8d4c2e80b3.jpg[/img]
In the dark recesses of the Invincible, Feron-12 toiled like he did every day. He did his job; cleaning the deck of all debris regardless of size. As a result, Feron-12 was on his knees, scrubbing the deck with all his might. It was tiring work, or so he had been told, but it was his order. That was all he needed. Commands, and the actions to meet them were his life; what he subconsciously longed for. Well; at least what part of his subconscious longed for. Another part of it, a part he did not fully comprehend, seemed to have other ideas. It spoke to him in a strange sort of way, like a whisper at the edge of ones hearing, too soft for comprehension. Had he the emotions of a Neovictorian, he would have found it annoying. As it stood however, he did not and, therefore, it was just another part of his existence.
It was while doing his tasks at hand that a loud noise from above and a shacking rang through the ship; causing Feron-12 to let slip his soapy rag, where it fell into the lower hold. This would not be a problem, save for the fact that the Lower Hold was off limits to him; being the storage area for the first mate's pet Misbegotten. Feron-12 found himself in a difficult situation. He needed the rag to follow his orders, yet he would need to break orders to retrieve it. After weighing his options in the way only an Automaton could, he reached down into the hold trying to grab the rag, only to slip on the still wet floor and tumble into the hold.
A few seconds later, he was up; and face to face with Capricorn; the small misbegotten in the cage. The two stared at each other for a moment, neither reacting, until Feron-12 moved again to get back to work. Capricorn, perhaps sensing that the Automaton was not organic, merely went back to sleep; unimpressed by the creature. Feron-12 grabbed his rag and returned to work before his order breaking was discovered. He briefly wondered why he broke the rule at all, but the idea faded with the voice from the back of his mind.
Docks:
Rear-Admiral Lanester sat in the back of the carriage, staring angrily out the door at the decrepit docks. Her left leg sat crossed over her right in a way "unbecoming of a lady", with her right leg shaking with nervous energy. She glanced back at her orders, checking and double checking them to ensure she had read them correctly. To her regret, she had; the last three times as well.
Having received her orders from Lord-Governor Havering, she immediately called for the carriage she now occupied. All she had said was "Yes, Sir" and saluted, but she wished she had said every other word the Governor had inspired. On the surface they seemed simple enough - sail east toward Helium City then on to the coast, where they would turn northward until they reached the arctic. The orders were to secure a ruin of the old world in the northern most reaches; specifically a weapon the empire heard rumors of. Then, once they had acquired said item they were to return to Old Borealis with the artifact with the greatest of haste. All-in-all, it was, as she had seen, simple. Save three facts and one gut feeling. The first was that; of all the cities to set sail from, Desolation was the furthest from the ruins. This showed just how little the empire cared about the mission. The second was that; though the IAN could have organized a fleet for the mission but had not. Were the artifact truly as important as her orders suggested; a fleet should be sent to secure it. Her gut and experience - combined with the cruel smile Lord-Governor Havering had given her with the orders - left her with the feeling that the mission was little more then a joke. The final line in her orders merely showed how cruel of a joke it was.
"Your return is requisite on the successful acquisition of the device in question; which is of vital importance to the noble cause of the empire. His holiness, Emperor Victor III, personally wishes you fair winds and safe return and the greatest of success. This mission is of the utmost importance and..." it said, dragging on for another page and a half of the Emperors blessings. It couldm of course be shortened to two statements: "You must go, and don't come come back without the device." The order made her sick. Given her ships compliment - an ex-pirate, a broken soldier, a radical doctor, Automaton who were barely functional, misbegotten well above their rank, and a near complete lack of high-born (save those mentioned before and herself); their real goal was obvious. "The empire no longer requires your services; now die in a way befitting your rank."
She briefly considered tearing up the orders; refusing them outright, but the fact that the Emperor had supposedly chosen them for this mission personally denied her that option; she may not have liked the orders; but Victor III's will was law: and that law was absolute. Her only options were to go pirate - blasphemy - or find an artifact in the ruins and return with it; then declared her retirement before they could try the same strategy again. Here, she laughed; remembering the last two on the mission who were not well received; the ship's liberal Rear-Admiral, and her Skyfolk Bodyguard &, unbeknownst to all outside the steam-carriage, lover. She took a moment to glance at said lover - sitting across from her in the vehicle, and smiled. He looked as angry as she did; if not more so. It wasn't hard to see why; he held no loyalty to the Emperor or the Empire; the only fact that was keeping her from truly considering the pirate alternative. She closed the blinds of the carriage, leaned across to him, and took his lips; a luxury she would not be able to enjoy much once they set sail.
"At least it wasn't all bad" she thought, as the vehicle pulled to a stop not far from their vessel
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________-
City Outskirts:
Exeter St. John stared out into the wilds of the American Wastes the way he had for the last several hours, for the same reason he had for the same number of hours: looking for his hated enemy the pirate hoards. Glancing at the sky, he could see he only had a few more hours before he would need to return to the Invincible; it was sailing day and the weather was excellent. Fortuitously, he had already seen to the supplies he needed before the voyage and had them delivered to the ship by some Automatons; they really were the best kind of servants. His vigil continued until he had to leave, though his mind refused to stay focused on the task at hand; wandering instead to the event some hours previous.
The sound of a steam-carriage approaching his position drew him from his lookout. He turned, expecting it to be that damnable rear-Admiral he would need to endure for another sailing. To his surprise however, when the vehicle arrived, the door opened to reveal a man dressed in Imperial finery, a bottle of some dark brown alcohol and a pair of glasses; his identity obviously not his CO, but Lord-Governor Franco Royston-Ragland Havering. To his even greater surprise, the man called him over with a hand wave. "Mr. St. John, might I have a word with you?" he asked; though given his position it was anything but a request.
When Exeter arrived at the vehicle, Havering invited the man inside, closed the door, and began to speak. "Mr. St. John, it is a pleasure to meet someone of your skills. Might I offer you some brandy?" the man began, starting with the requisite pleasantries by offering the cool beverage. After receiving the Exeter's answer, he poured him a glass regardless, and began to speak again. "It is my great regret that I must impress upon you a request. I find myself with little recourse; which is why I must inconvenience you. As such, allow me to begin with this apology." he said, letting the message sink in. He took sip of the brandy, then continued. "As I understand it, you are the first mate aboard the H.M.S. Invincible; my reason for inconveniencing you. Your commander, Admiral Lanester, has been given a mission of some import. We, the empire, fear that, given her... peculiarities and associates, she may not follow her orders and instead take the vessel pirate. Though we have no evidence of this, it is of particular concern to the Empire - as an Admiral, she is privy to certain information that could be disastrous to the Empire." he continued, taking another sip of his brandy.
"This brings me to my request; watch her to ensure this does not occur. If it does... well,... I leave her fate to your discretion." he said, a smile on his face, as he took another sip of brandy.
When Exeter arrived at the vehicle, Havering invited the man inside, closed the door, and began to speak. "Mr. St. John, it is a pleasure to meet someone of your skills. Might I offer you some brandy?" the man began, starting with the requisite pleasantries by offering the cool beverage. After receiving the Exeter's answer, he poured him a glass regardless, and began to speak again. "It is my great regret that I must impress upon you a request. I find myself with little recourse; which is why I must inconvenience you. As such, allow me to begin with this apology." he said, letting the message sink in. He took sip of the brandy, then continued. "As I understand it, you are the first mate aboard the H.M.S. Invincible; my reason for inconveniencing you. Your commander, Admiral Lanester, has been given a mission of some import. We, the empire, fear that, given her... peculiarities and associates, she may not follow her orders and instead take the vessel pirate. Though we have no evidence of this, it is of particular concern to the Empire - as an Admiral, she is privy to certain information that could be disastrous to the Empire." he continued, taking another sip of his brandy.
"This brings me to my request; watch her to ensure this does not occur. If it does... well,... I leave her fate to your discretion." he said, a smile on his face, as he took another sip of brandy.
It was an interesting "request" to say the least.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________-
H.M.S. Invincible - Upper Deck
The docks were alive with the sounds of life, as goods from around the empire poured into the city for the nobility to enjoy and the IAN to use. It was a busy time aboard the Invincible as well, with the ship preparing for launch. A fresh coat of paint adorned the vessel, and a hundred Automatons moved supplies aboard under the watchful eye of the quartermaster: Anastacia "Black Annis" Baker-Cromwell. Or rather, it would have been under her watchful eye were it not for the constant tinkering of the ships doctor: Vasco Roque. The sounds of the lively dock overwrote any complaints that Black Annis could muster however, as Vasco finished the work on the suit. One of the Automaton's brought aboard a new cannon, but dropped it heavily on the ship. It wasn't enough force to damage the vessel or the cannon, but it rattled the ship and made a loud noise; more then enough to draw the chagrin of Black Annis; at least until Vasco took control again.
The sailing was a long time coming; they had been in dry-dock for nearly a week for repairs following a particularly ferocious pirate attack; made evident by the three large holes that had been in the starboard side. Needless to say, they had come out better off in the battle compared to the three sunk ships that now littered the ground near the edge of the great plains. The Invincible was after all an Imperial Frigate; a ship that few craft could hope to out maneuver or out gun. All in all, it had been a costly battle; losing many good men in the fight. Fortuitously, they were mostly Misbegotten and Automaton; and at the worst low class Neovictorians; all dime-a-dozen crew members. In fact, only a single Automaton had survived the assault; most being lost in boarding attempts (successful or otherwise)
That was where the automaton's bringing supplies came in; about a quarter of them were destined to re-crew the H.M.S. Invincible. They were mostly old models; few naval ships got new models as such automatons tended to be expensive and permanently deactivate (read: die) at the same rates as the older ones. Thinking on it, Feron-12 - the sole survivor of the previous automaton crew - was a newer model then even some of these, showing that maybe the idea of old Automatons for the navy was flawed. It hardly mattered of course; they had not the money for such Automaton's with any sense of frequency - Feron-12 being a special case given strange circumstances. When all was said and done however, the ship was finally ready to go - or would be by early afternoon. Once the Admiral returned with their new orders and their first mate returned from wherever he was lurking, they would be in a position to sail and return to their main objective: the eradication of piracy in all its many forms.
A more noble quest could not exist.
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H.M.S. Invincible - Lower Deck
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In the dark recesses of the Invincible, Feron-12 toiled like he did every day. He did his job; cleaning the deck of all debris regardless of size. As a result, Feron-12 was on his knees, scrubbing the deck with all his might. It was tiring work, or so he had been told, but it was his order. That was all he needed. Commands, and the actions to meet them were his life; what he subconsciously longed for. Well; at least what part of his subconscious longed for. Another part of it, a part he did not fully comprehend, seemed to have other ideas. It spoke to him in a strange sort of way, like a whisper at the edge of ones hearing, too soft for comprehension. Had he the emotions of a Neovictorian, he would have found it annoying. As it stood however, he did not and, therefore, it was just another part of his existence.
It was while doing his tasks at hand that a loud noise from above and a shacking rang through the ship; causing Feron-12 to let slip his soapy rag, where it fell into the lower hold. This would not be a problem, save for the fact that the Lower Hold was off limits to him; being the storage area for the first mate's pet Misbegotten. Feron-12 found himself in a difficult situation. He needed the rag to follow his orders, yet he would need to break orders to retrieve it. After weighing his options in the way only an Automaton could, he reached down into the hold trying to grab the rag, only to slip on the still wet floor and tumble into the hold.
A few seconds later, he was up; and face to face with Capricorn; the small misbegotten in the cage. The two stared at each other for a moment, neither reacting, until Feron-12 moved again to get back to work. Capricorn, perhaps sensing that the Automaton was not organic, merely went back to sleep; unimpressed by the creature. Feron-12 grabbed his rag and returned to work before his order breaking was discovered. He briefly wondered why he broke the rule at all, but the idea faded with the voice from the back of his mind.