Kildare's Good Turn in Gorovaan

Wishart’s Lodge,

Da Marh,

Parhoon

 

Private Correspondence

 

My dear Kildare,

If all has gone to plan, you should now be reading this note safely ensconced in Gorovaan. I hope the stewards at the Cricket Club have replaced the soda - that last batch was quite simply, rancid vinegar. 

The mission you have undertaken is of the utmost importance not just to the Syrtis Major Trading Company, but indeed to Her Majesty and Her Majesty’s Government itself.

 

As we are all aware, Britain is now at war with the Empire of Oenotria, and I have to tell you that we are in for a hard time of it. We have barely enough forces here on Mars to look after things as it is, so Lord Folkestone will be heading our Martian Legion to bolster the Regular boys here around Syrtis. What we don’t need is another player on the pitch, and that old boy is where you come in to this great game.

We have reason to believe that a German couple, Herr and Frau Zenner, are actively engaged in matters very anti-British in and around Gorovaan. It’s quite possible that you may already have had a frosty reception from the Gorovaanese, if the spooks from Office 20, here in Syrtis, have got their intelligence and spying all ship shape.

 

Quite simply, we need to speak to the Zenners about what they have been getting up too, so we need them to be ‘persuaded’ by your self and your accompanying party to relocate their Trade Legation enquiries to Parhoon. We need to know their contacts, their supports and what they have achieved there, and on their intentions for the future. All manner of rumours abound as to who’s been dropping carbines into the Oenotrians laps, but the Office 20 boys have a sneak tip that the Germans are behind all of this. Whatever, we need the Zenners alive and able to answer questions and we need them back in Parhoon at the soonest opportunity.

Sorry to have kept you in the dark my good man, but the Zenners will be expecting you and your entourage to be doing glad-handing and back-slapping here in Gorovaan now there’s a war on. Had to maintain the façade for a quite a few of our ‘allies’ to see.

 

Good luck, and a speedy return, and if you need anything, your man Bough has a few of the 'Company' chitties.

 

Wishart

 

 

Storyline: 7-Alpha-6 - Point: 9

The car went into a sideways slide, as rain soaked tarmac does that for you, especially when the driver is no longer looking out the windscreen and is using the dashboard for cover. I preferred that to the full facial of splintered glass and bullet fragments that suddenly ventilated my vehicle. Unfortunately, the kerb failed to stop the slide, and the car mounted the pavement with a double jolt and it and I became an addition to a shop front. Thankfully, at half past midnight, there was no need to worry about squishing late night shoppers and upsetting the business owner. At least not straight away – he’ll find out soon enough I guess.

+ React: Now: React: Unknown targets: Evade: React +

The carcass I was in was a fit and agile one. A soldier, one of our own – a true volunteer ‘skin’. Reaction times were better, muscle memory gave me the edge, good reflexes. With the car now stationary and covered in debris, I kicked open the driver’s door, rolled out, gun drawn and trusting to my soldier skin’s training.

Angel prompted me too, lightning fast threat assessments flash-burned straight into my cortex, milli-seconds of advantage, that’s almost instantly instinctive. Almost – as the close proximity of incoming rounds, plucking at my coat, helpfully remind me that this borrowed carcass deserves to be returned unscathed – hopefully.

+ Diminished threat: No immediate targets: React +

OK Angel, I can guess I’m safer now, I heard the fools running off into the darkness. And I can follow them with ease. But that’s not the mission objective – the Task to be done.

My car wasn’t going anywhere, neither was theirs, my recent opponents. Luckily the final destination was a half-klick jog further on. Notwithstanding the rainwater everywhere, it was time to press on.

This capable skin pounded the pavements and alleys with ease until the target building came into view. And even without Angel’s warning prompt, I knew something was wrong.

Sixth sense, or déjà vu? Sensory uploads or hard-wired nano-circuitry? Whatever the edge, it was my advantage, my latent ability coupled with Angel as my Grid interface that allowed me to grab any initiative, and defeat anyone who gets in my way. The only trouble is, there’s very little that I can do in a physical form that can defeat the concussive blast wave from a sizeable explosive detonation.

I had no idea who detonated the bomb, or where exactly the bomb had been planted, but night time suddenly became day time momentarily with the ignition flash and the following fireball, but by then the shockwave had picked me up and put me into the wall behind me. That hurt, quite a bit, and I lost the ability to listen to Angel. She was still there, I just found it all a bit scrambled.

I tried to stay conscious, but the approaching blackness just looked too good to resist.

Blackness. No Grid. No voices in my head. Just darkness.

Dalliances with Danger - The Saxmundham Viking Treasure II

The SIAS officers, now reinforced by more volunteers, some of them armed, send out a patrol to establish just what has been going on in the countryside between them and the sea, while Judge Cooper and Mr Geach the Mayor put the town into a state of readiness. All set their hearts and minds to the task ahead and then grave news is announced – the Telegraph lines have been cut!

The two Police Constables finally make it back to town with their new ‘friend’. Hopefully, Old Jock Trubshaw is reasonably sober to have told of his midnight encounters “wiv some nasty ‘Uns..”

But now more information is needed – as to how many, and where they are, and what’s their intentions in coming here? Who leads them in this odd ‘invasion’ of East Anglia – surely this isn’t some scheme dreamed up by the Kaiser? Is the ‘Teutonic Twit’ really that hair-brained? Or can it really be the Arch-fiend himself?

The Light Railway has already proven to be a valuable link to Leiston and the coast, and the Station staff and signallers have worked hard with the Enginemen in getting the light engines and carriages made ready for another venture out. With the sun slowly rising over the North Sea, time is crucial, and the enemy must be found and observed.

The SIAS party and their growing band of volunteer forces must now defend the centre of the town of Saxmundham from these raiders, prevent them from looting and carrying off any spoils, and capture any of them to interrogate and find out why they are here.

The Judge and the Mayor have done a fine job in preparing the town against these foreign agents, and lookouts have been posted, a dressing station has been set up for any wounded, and gallons of hot tea and piles of bacon sandwiches are available for the gallant defenders of East Suffolk.

Now it’s known the enemy are coming straight for the town, but many rumours abound as to why. Some are saying it’s a deliberate attempt on the capital, seize the railway and ride into London, others say that Colchester is the real target, again using the railway. But most have now heard from Old Jock that the raiders are after some sort of Viking item that’s here in the town – and yet no-one knows what or where it is. The Mayor has ordered a few trusted seniors to investigate further, but a scour around the Bell Inn, and the small Museum by the Market Hall have found nothing and now the town elders are pouring through the town records.

So all the defenders can do now is await the assault and to see where the attackers aim for – and hope to stop them in their tracks before they can plunder the town and escape.

Dalliances with Danger - The Saxmundham Viking Treasure - I

That ‘Man of Blood’ is loose again in the world. After his deprivations in Imperial China – taking advantage of the feuding Governors and Warlords – he’s now believed to be running opium again back into Western Europe. It’s also believed that Von Ludecke is still with him – Beck is reputed to be somewhere in North America & D’Allange is said to be in the Middle-East.

Deveraux has been gathering his forces of anarchy and mayhem, and the Imperial Powers have managed to set aside their differences and recognise his threat to all their regimes.

His many acts of outrage – the raiding and sinking of French steamships in the Gulf of Lyons, the bombing of the Hotel Excelsior in Sarajevo, the abduction and subsequent ransom of Princess Elenia of Moldavia, and the derailment of the Ottoman Army’s Smyrna Military Train – are just the latest in a long line of sinister events all perpetrated by Deveraux and his minions, the Les Enfants Perdu. Their exploits blaze across the front pages of the Western Press, and all clamour for direct action against the Arch-fiend.

Now, strange sightings og lights afloat in the darkness off the East Anglian coast has prompted Horseguards to send some officers to Saxmundham to investigate. Before they are able to arrive however, the train journey is interrupted.

The northward train has been stopped just south of Saxmundham by unknown hijackers, who have removed the engine and tender, leaving the passenger carriages stranded. The party of officers have then resorted to walking up the line, in the dead of night, to the station and there they meet the Station-master and two Police Constables.  On the Platform stand Detective Inspector Symonds and Judge Cooper, who address the assembled throng of servicemen in the Passenger Waiting Room. The London-bound Express has also lost its engine and tender, blocking the line coming south from Norwich.

Peculiar happenings have also been occurring in this area, in the dead of night, close to the shoreline, and two Police Constables managed to signal earlier using Morse Code with their patrol lanterns, that they have under guard a valuable yet delusional witness. Gun flashes and then a considerable noise of gunfire were observed and heard from their direction, and Symonds now needs assistance in finding and bringing back his two Constables and their valuable witness.

To that extent, Judge Cooper has just proclaimed the Local Emergency Powers Act in the town’s marketplace, and a small band of volunteers have been gathered, armed with shotguns, to assist. What’s desperately needed though, is leadership and military training and that’s why the Judge and Symonds are glad of the officers arrival.

The town is buzzing with unusual night-time activity, the gaslights are burning brightly tonight, and the townspeople move about the shadows with a determined purpose – what mystery waits out there in the darkness. Some of the apprentice boys have been dispatched Westwards, on bicycles, to pass on news of the situation, and to seek more assistance.

 

Storyline: 7-Alpha-6 - Point: 8

“Why won’t you relax, sit so we can chat?”

“Thanks, but I don’t plan on staying long.” I hated these quarterly psych-sessions.

“I can understand that, but you might be pleasantly surprised, I can speed things along when I have to.”

I slump in the chair, coat still on, coffee cup in hand. It only has some dregs left in it but that means I have an excuse to bail out of here when I want, when I need to refill it.

One of the medical staff, one of the new doctors, sits opposite flicking through the sheets in my manila folder. It never fails to amuse me that – a board file, a folder full of paper on little old me, and all the antics I get up too. A stupid out-dated contradiction, the desire to maintain a paper trail on my ‘deniable’ activities in the virtual domain. I would say ironic, but I heard one of the other operatives shot Irony in the head last week.

“You still taking all the meds we prescribe?”

“Aye.”

“No side effects?”

“No.”

“Are they effective at controlling your – episodes?” It’s actually one of the first times he glances up from the pages to look at me.

You mean, am I dosed up enough to warrant relaxing the extra measures you have in place to control me? Probably not.

Am I now trusted to live off-site again instead of lodging in a converted store cupboard on a camp bed? Probably not.

Or am I capable of mixing with normal people again, without being a potential security risk and royal pain in the arse once I’ve had a drink or five? Probably not.

“I think the drugs are helping me cope, Doc.”

After all, that’s really what he wants to hear.

“OK, well I think you have made excellent progress. Certainly the last half-dozen debriefs indicate a better recovery and better stabilization. I think I can make some recommendations. Would you be happy with that?”

Delighted, possibly even euphoric. Just how enthusiastic am I supposed to be? Do I get a free sweetie?

“Aye.” And I add a smile, the best I can manage, as a free bonus for his efforts.

“Good, we’ll mark today down as ‘progressing’ then.”

I add a second smile, and a little too eagerly, shuffle forward to climb out of the chair. Too eagerly because he stops shuffling pages back into my manila folder and looks me straight in the eyes.

“After all, Operative – you wouldn’t want an RTU would you?” The menace is deliberate in those words.

RTU. ‘Return To Unit’. A ‘sorry you failed son’ award that in normal circumstances would see you bounced back from whence you came. But where I’ve been these past ten years, you don’t leave by RTU. I wasn’t even sure my old unit even still existed after all the cutbacks.

RTU for the likes of me really meant one thing.

Disposal. Quick, sudden and final.

Not exactly the exit I want if I’m honest.

“See you in three months time, Doc.”

Storyline: 7-Alpha-6 - Point: 7

When the time comes to hack into someone, to hijack and take over their corpse for a while, I tend to think of it like a long blink. Where some kind soul has also tattooed the inside of your eyelids with white dashes and dots on a lovely vivid blue background. Well, I see blue – others apparently see black, but I’m glad I have blue.

The ‘wake-up’ is always the first test, and can be the first surprise. Its that moment when you establish complete ultimate control over the new vessel, the new host that will help you on your Task. I like the usual standard wake-ups – nodding yourself awake on a train or airliner, sitting up in your seat in a darkened theatre or cinema. I like those best. Less traumatic for everyone.

The ‘crash wake-ups’ are a lot worse, hurried takeovers in emergency situations or inappropriate moments. I’m not that much of a fan, despite the enhanced reflexes, and Angel chattering out instructions, and the hyper-surge you get from the Grid. Is there such a thing as virtual kinetic force? Certainly feels like it sometimes. Anyway – taking over from someone driving a car, or falling or diving, or mid delecto humper time – its just not good for the karma.

You think you would get used to the surge, the drop from comfy time idling on the Grid absorbing new files and data, before you pile into some stranger’s cortex. You think that after doing hundreds of these, sometimes several in one day, you’d get blasé. Believe me, there’s nothing easy about it. Bollocks to anyone who says otherwise.

You wrench yourself away from everything you’ve ever actually been, to end up, often uninvited, in amidst something you’ve never known, all for a set time, to complete a phase or a Task, before the elastic hurls you back to where you started. No wonder perhaps that I do bother with the after-care I guess. And that I take the meds as Doctor orders.

Hacking back out is easy, Angel calls it, you agree it, then it’s another blink and another wake-up, but this time you’re back to being you. I always hesitate, always check my own tell-tales, just to make sure.

It still flips your heart, catches your breath, makes you wince or brings on a cold sweat. That bit never leaves you, because what we do, the whole hack-in and hack-out, well it can never be described as natural. There is no natural equivalent action. Just before your first time you ever do this, the scientists and the tech people tell you it’s unique with a big monkey smile. Nothing can prepare you for what happens, nothing they say can pre-warn you.

After my first time, I puked, used more swear words than I thought I knew, and wanted to punch out anyone who came near me. I was alright once I had a short spell of recovery time. Well, OK – short – took me about two days to come down off the ceiling.

It was scary, alien, unnatural, insane and bewilderingly confusing. And I loved it. And guess I still do.

Storyline: 7-Alpha-6 - Point: 6

I still recall the day the ‘normal’ life all came unglued, for once and for all. I remember fine details, mostly irrelevant, but I’m a little hazy on all the important stuff. What ‘normal’ people would consider important anyway.

I’d just completed a triple-phase Task, that had lasted a marathon 68-hours, where I’d hacked into five different people to complete it all. Complex, twisting case and nothing like the initial briefing, and at the end of it my mind was almost broken.

I awoke, or at least regained my composure, sitting in a straight-backed chair in a bedroom in daylight, an upended suitcase next to me with clothes strewn around the floor. I wasn’t too sure at first so I had to check, and asked Angel to state my location.

+ Current Location: Home: Registered address: Electoral Register 2014: 21 West...+

Stop, Angel, that’s enough, just knowing I’m home is fine. Thank you.

I looked down at myself, slumped there, and rotated my right hand, thumb moving away and little finger coming into view, and noted I still had the standard issue Browning automatic pistol clenched in my right hand. I wasn’t bothered about that, although there was a nagging doubt I should have been. No, I was looking for something else and it was there, the faint scar line on the edge of my right hand, my tell-tale first check that I’m back in my own body, returned into my own carcass.

So – home and really home.

I then looked up and saw myself, my reflection in the bedroom mirror. I wasn’t that surprised – 68 hours straight, no sleep and no mental rest, and even if your physical form is fresh meat, you can still see it, the drawn exhausted state is given away by the staring eyes. Well, I think so – and that’s what I saw. Dishevelled clothes and unshaven, but the red eyes looking like a long-haul airline traveller – that made me grimace at myself.

I caught sight of a flutter of movement at the right hand edge of my vision and glanced over to see the slow billowing flow of the net curtain caught in the breeze. I was fixated with its gracefulness, as if watching its gentle folds would bring me some degree of inner peace. Instead my eyes were summoned left, towards the doorway into the room. Half a face and a clenched hand on the doorframe meant I was being watched. I could see one eye, streaming tears, and a downturned mouth, a nightdress and a frail feminine figure, part-hiding from me, very scared.

I didn’t say a word, just stood up, and stepped over the debris on the floor, pocketing the pistol into it’s hidden place inside my long coat with a well-practiced familiar ease. The young woman shied away from me, stepping backwards across the landing as I approached the door frame.

Am I supposed to know you? Why didn’t Angel prompt me?

We stood facing each other on the landing, she crying and shaking, I slightly bemused and very detached. She moved her right hand away from her mouth and pawed at the air in front of me. Was I meant to take her hand and comfort her? Or to hold her close to me, grasp her shoulders and hug her? I had no idea – I just felt pity for her, but at the same time, a faint creep of revulsion too.

She asked me what were we going to do. We? I’d just spent three days preserving her lifestyle and her simple existence. We? I didn’t recall her being there when I’d finally put a bullet in that madman’s forehead. I suddenly felt tired, overwhelmed, unable to tell her – whoever she was – what I wanted too. She whimpered at me again, what was I planning to do?

“Going out”, I said in one exhalation.

I turned and slowly descended the stairs, hearing her slump to the carpet sobbing loudly. I went out through the front door, only then putting the cigarette to my lips to light it. ‘Never smoke in the home’. I don’t recollect where that come from, it was just a rule from someone.

Outside in the road, there were car-washers, promising footballers, juvenile cyclists and idle gossips strewn throughout the neighbourhood, who all stopped to watch me depart. That was my last time in that neighbourhood, the last time any of them ever saw me. And I never saw that lovely but vulnerable woman again.

Storyline: 7-Alpha-6 - Point: 5

Blue Tasks. The nice quiet observational missions. Just simple surveillance.

Like now, right now. Sitting at a table outside a cafe with a coffee and some really cute biscuits, watching the frontage of a specific building. Waiting and watching.

And drinking coffee.

+ Focus: Ocular performance optimal: Advise end coffee consumption +

Oh, really Angel? Just relax, let me sit back, just let me enjoy this one.

After all, this time last week, I was in a different carcass, running along roads and railway tracks, chasing down some lunatic suicide bomber with 10kg of plastic explosive wrapped around himself. This nice sit-down spy-time relaxation I earned when I caught that maniac and pushed him under that truck. So if I want to drink more coffee, I will.

+ Adjust: caffeine intake high: Task parameters may be affected: Threat Level: Low +

Nope. I’ll order another, just out of spite.

I smile at the rather attractive girl who’s clearing away cups and cake plates, and she smiles back and nods. Within minutes I have a new fresh hot coffee, and a smug petulant feeling.

Not one of the faces I have implanted in my memory has come anywhere near this building. Their faces, pictures of their postures, candid photos even, endlessly cycle back and forth on a screen inside my head, and nothing I see in the street ahead matches with what I can see inside of me.

Blue tasks. Quiet and easy surveillances. And sometimes just slightly dull.

I’m not really agitated, it’s more of an irritable impatient feeling slowly nagging away at me, like some annoying stray cotton thread hanging from a shirt button. I could – I should – just simply ignore it, let the moment pass me by, but I could also pull it, snap that little bastard off. So what if the button pings off...

+ Focus: Task objective: Observe arrival of five suspects +

Angel! Just – shut up!

Focus. I summon a keepsake – a strange projected view of looking at myself, my normal self, sitting at a table outside a cafe, with a coffee, and my mind takes a sliding lurch to the left, upsetting the pictures flashing past my mind’s screen.

And then I’m standing stock still in the middle of a heaving throng of people, all jumping and gyrating, dancing to a tune or some sort of music I cannot hear. I scan that crowd around me, sweating faces and bodies, coloured lights flicking over upraised arms and hands, and I know I need to rouse myself.

+ React: Now: React: Three targets: Arrival noted: React +

A child’s laughter reels me back into my seat, my arm lashes out, and a part-drunk cup of coffee sails away from me to clatter onto the pavement. I am upright, standing – no running – as I sense the disdain, the tuts and the head-shakes around me, as I run, running across the street like I'm chasing mad people again.

Running hard, towards the building I’ve watched for two hours, I see the backs of three people I was supposed to be looking out for.

Blue tasks. Such a doddle. Normally. Repeat fifty times and remember.

Listen to Angel. Listen to Angel.....

 

Tales from Estera - The Minor Guilds

Minor Guilds:

Graziers

Ninth in Privilege and masters of livestock and pastoral farming that supports the City’s existence. By the nature of the products they deal in, the ‘Graziers’ maintain strong solid links to many of the Lesser guilds, and to a degree they champion their causes when discussing matters of commerce with the Priori and the Major guilds. Graziers are a level headed and practical bunch, no doubt a skill obtained from the virtues of patience within their livelihoods.

They are also the most superstitious, always making offerings, sometimes in the older styles of worship, to placate the gods. This predilection is played upon by some of the Major guilds, who consider the Graziers backwards and brutish. The Bankers disdain dealing with them direct, while the Clothiers are sometimes openly critical of their affairs. The Graziers ignore for the most part any Guild politics, but are intensely loyal to the Signoria and the Priori when a crisis arises that threatens the well-being and safety of Estera.

Shoe makers

Tenth in Privilege, and another breakaway faction from the once mighty Clothiers. The ‘Shoemen’ are a major source of earning revenue for Estera, as the footwear that they craft are a major export around all of Ethene. Renowned for high quality of almost legendary status, they too travel widely. Considered by most others as the happiest of guilds, a value noted even by the distinctly more grumpier Clothiers, the Shoemen are also renowned for many benevolent and charitable gifts to the common populace.

A tradition of the Shoemen is that any wounded traveller or merchant rescued and brought in by the guards after being waylaid by thieves will awake in his Grand Hospital bed with a new pair of shoes ready for use. Many of the guilds maintain good friendly relations with the Shoemen, even the stand-offish Weavers.

Iron workers

Eleventh in Privilege, and with the ‘Stonesmiths’, committed allies in Guild politics to the Assayers, with whom they share common goals and ambitions. The ‘Ironmen’ enjoy other degrees of patronage from some of the other major guilds, but nothing compares to the continued strength they have with their Assayer friends. Ironmen when they travel can always bed down for free at an Assayers Lodge, and many new contracts have been won with Assayer help.

Esterian weaponry is also well regarded, being light and durable, with reliability rated above intimidation. The Ironmen are not afraid of tackling some of the more grandiose projects too, when an architect or a noble comes up with a challenging new concept. The guild see themselves as progressive, eager to secure more exports for the City, and have expansionist tendencies and ambitions to gain more prosperity for themselves.

Stone masons

Twelfth in Privilege, and allies of the Assayers and the Ironmen, the ‘Stonesmiths’ have a slightly more refined temperament than the Iron guild. They place great emphasis on their creativity, relishing in the fact that their creations are monuments to stand the test of time, and to proclaim the Esterian legacy for aeons to come. As such, they can take a long time to decide on matters, and are known for their legendary debating. In an unusual way, this has also led them to make strong friends with some of the deeper free-thinking Notaries who enjoy scrutinising all aspects of life.

These strange bedfellows have produced together some of the most revered philosophy in Esterian history, and foreign scholars travel from far and wide to just sit and watch the marathon three or four day debates the two parties can often organise in the long winter months. The guild are also generous benefactors to the Physicians and stalwart loyalists with a very conservative nature on where Estera happens to be at any place in time, rather than where it could be with a more progressive outlook.

Carpenters

Thirteenth in Privilege, the ‘Carpenters’ were properly recognised as a guild quite late, but are now a sizeable guild regardless. The guild is a creative, quiet, some even say solemn collective renowned for the lengths it goes to support and nurture it’s own members and their families. Quietly they are a progressive guild, eager to build up their share of the export trade, and to acquire new skills and patterns to produce even better furniture, vehicles, contraptions and architecture.

Not a wealthy guild but generous to those they consider true friends, the Carpenters also have an unenviable role within Estera, a role some say goes quite a way to explaining why they are often so dour and solemn. In Esteria, it is always a carpenter who carries out the public, and sometime the secretly private, capital punishments ordered by the Priori and the Judiciary. As the official City executioners – even for one of their own found guilty – the guildsmen are well-paid, and ensure that such treatments are carried out in their typically professional manner. The Judiciary consequently closely support and mentor the guild, and often provide them with their most lucrative contracts, while many say that truthfully, the Carpenters share the pacifism of the Physicians.

Wine Merchants

Fourteenth in Privilege, a small guild and quite well-connected with the Priori, the ‘Winemen’ are also legendary explorers and adventurers. It is said often at the harbourside inns of Telia that one in three ships belong to a Wineman. It is also one of the few guilds that actively encourages women to rise to prominence within the guild. Like the Assayers and the Weavers, the Winemen provide the Priori with considerable information from what its members learn on their seafaring travels.

The guild is also capable of sponsoring merchant caravans too, much to the annoyance of the Clothiers, who dislike the ‘new money’ within the City’s economic sphere. For their part, the Winemen prefer to remain detached from the Guild politics, only bothering to participate when the affairs concern them directly. However, to other minor guilds, and some of the more friendly major guilds, they provide an invaluable source of new contracts and enterprises from the many contacts that they make. The astute Notaries consider the Winemen a key asset in the possible future expansion of Esterian export trade on a wider stage throughout the rest of Ethene, and the Notaries are often right.

Inn Keepers

Fifteenth in Privilege, the ‘Innsmen’ are a riotous bunch, not too respectful of the Major guilds and their members, and are often called to account and fined for the scandalous behaviour found at the City’s feast days. And yet, on a par with the Assayers, they are renowned benefactors to the common folk of Estera. The guild has a thin influence outside of the City’s domain, as they only have a few franchises on the major junctions on the land’s highways, many inn keepers preferring to remain independent.

Loyal to the City of Estera, they do however clamour and argue for every right they believe they should have, and can sometimes upset the careful machinations of the major players in Guild politics. The Physicians see them at best as gruff poltroons and at worst, have often tried to raise City ordinances to restrict the Innsmen trading. Unbeknown to them, the Innsmen often invest substantial coin in the outlying hospices to ensure that they can continue to run. There’s a quip heard in the company of Innsmen that ‘two flagons gets one poultice for a Physik’. And of course, the Notaries know all about the secret patronage.

Mill Workers

Sixteenth in Privilege, the ‘Millsmiths’ are a cornerstone of the infrastructure of the City. With their windmills and water-races, the guild provide considerable logistic support to the City fathers in ensuring the common folk are fed and watered, and that the City’s sewers flow freely. Not as devout as the Physicians, nor as superstitious as the Graziers, the Millsmiths fall quietly somewhere in between. The guild keeps itself to itself, it participates in some of the debates in the Guild politics, but it doesn’t seek favours or patronage. It does maintain friendly ties with the Graziers and the Bakers – indeed, it was the Millsmiths who quietly petitioned the Signoria and the Priori that the Bakers should be awarded their own guild status.

The Millsmiths have no real wealth as all their capital is invested in its properties, and plays no real part in the City’s export trade. Yet without their presence, their diligence and devotion to their endless tasks, the City would founder under famine, disease and starvation. The Millsmiths greatest threat to it’s quiet contentment comes from the Stonesmiths, who eagerly hanker after re-designing and re-building their windmill towers and the waterwheel houses. As threats go, this is perfectly manageable for the hushed Millsmiths. They generously support the Physicians when they can, and the Assayers with their schools, and will often – surprising other guilds when they do – stump up the extra coin needed for an under-funded merchant caravan, regardless of whether it’s run by a Clothier, a Weaver or a Wineman.

Armourers

Seventeenth in Privilege, the ‘Harnessmen’ are an aggressively progressive guild keen to make a name for themselves and to gain greater renown for Esterian armour. Probably one of the more elitist of the lesser guilds, it’s common knowledge that they look down upon the Hidesmen and their leather armour wares, but that’s entirely understandable. The Harnessmen see themselves taking the glories and honours of the realm of warfare to a new age, and there are tensions within the guild itself sometimes as members vie with each other for noble patronage. The guild leadership see this as healthy competition to ensure that the guild itself reaches new heights of craftsmanship, and is continually encouraged to maintain that aspect by their Clothier friends.

Their share of the City’s export trade remains low however, as Esterian armour, being well-made and properly fitted, is also expensive, and the guild is not yet wealthy enough to gain the mentoring of some others like the Bankers. Work tends to meet specific contracts, while the Hidesmen can make enough of their wares to maintain adequate stocks. Some military observers say that the widening gap between the two fails to meet Estera’s own provisions, but new ventures are underway as some Harnessmen have made the approach to combine trade with their Hidesmen brethren.

Military Leather Workers

Eighteenth in Privilege, the ‘Hidesmen’ are a young guild and one of the more militaristic, often the members seeking active service on military campaigns in Telia or on its borders. Their export trade is slowly growing, but their foreign markets are limited to the less advanced tribes, and those states with limited resources. Hence the guild is not that wealthy, and they refrain from making any beneficial donations to other guilds or to the general populace. Resolute, frugal and loyal, the Hidesmen are steadfast in the defence of the City, and the Innsmen enjoy their presence, as they would, being the Inn Keepers best customers.

New leads with some of the friendlier Harnessmen have started to develop however, in the aim to provide the Esterian military with some new composite armour for its infantry. There is great promise in such a venture, as it’s been rightly seen as a potentially valuable export. There are some that say that this initiative is all the work of the Clothiers – but the smart money says it’s the Bankers encouraging the new approach. The Notaries will neither confirm nor deny either story.

Key makers

Nineteenth in Privilege, the ‘Keysmiths’ are a small guild even quieter and more insular than the Millsmiths. Their trade provides a growing fraction of the City’s exports as their renown improves, but the Keysmiths have had the unfortunate luck in having a few contracts turn out bad. The Winemen stepped in at the last moment for the most recent failure, and were underwriters to ensure that the guild got it’s proper payments. The Keysmiths try to play their part, but are so often overlooked, and their political clout is minimal. They enjoy some occasional mentoring from the Judiciary, the Bankers and the Assayers, who each have their own specific reasons to see them gain a greater market presence, but some of the other major guilds – especially the haughty Clothiers and the aloof Weavers – barely acknowledge their representation in the Guild Chamber at all.

Despite all that, and the changeable levels of wealth held by the guild, the Keysmiths provide important support to the Physicians, and have a number of schools now, including the first ever college for young women within Estera. However, they are not renowned for their religious support, and as yet, the guild doesn’t even have a patron saint.

Bakers

Twentieth in Privilege, the Bakers are the youngest guild, rightly recognised now for their sterling efforts to feed such a substantial population as Estera continues to prosper. The Bakers are another guild who actively encourage women to join and gain rank within its membership. Still finding its way in Guild politics, the Bakers tend to side with those who think of the common folk, and support the more beneficial agendas. Some other guilds, especially the Clothiers, who seem to resent the growing range of new guilds, also consider them to be pacifists, but Bakers can often be found outfitting and equipping field kitchen wagons that accompany the Telian military forces. The ruling classes have noticed this fact, and learnt that a well-fed army is always more reliable than one that relies on forage alone.

Some say that the Bakers are the new breed of trade needed within the City, one that can ensure it has its base firmly lodged amongst the people, while still able to be noticed outside the City’s domains. The Bakers enjoy good friendly ties with the Graziers and the Millsmiths – their guild sponsors – and are one of the few who encourage the Keysmiths to attend the Grand Sessions in the City’s Guild Chamber.

Tales from Estera - The Major Guilds

Major Guilds:

Wool & cloth merchants

First in Privilege and the oldest of the Major Guilds that reflects the earliest trades that established themselves in the City. The ‘Clothiers’ sponsor many institutions, such as chapels, schools and homes of respite, and have many franchises on the markets not just in the City itself, but for all the settlements and lands for miles around. Many Guildsmen of the Clothiers are active throughout Telia as well. While it remains one of the larger guilds in membership alone, it has limited available wealth, much of it invested in property.

Some say its influence has waned over the centuries – but you wouldn’t say that directly to a Clothier’s face or in his presence. Conservative in their outlook, they hanker after expansion, but theirs is the easiest trade to work in without guild allegiance, and the Clothiers often bemoan that fact at the Grand Sessions in the Guild Chamber. Consequently, many of the lesser guilds refer to the Clothiers as the ‘Grumblers’.

Judges

Second in Privilege and the next oldest, are the ‘Judiciary’, the lawmakers of the City. They came about as a deciding influence for the arbitration courts when the Clothiers disputed amongst themselves for the markets and franchises of the surrounding estates. Soon the Judges were presiding over Courts-Civil to assist the ‘Signoria’, the ruling council of the City, on all matters involving the populace and eventually the Courts-Marechal, to sit in judgement over the City’s martial affairs in defence and security. They with the Notaries maintain the Ledgers of Law, and support the ruling Signoria and Priori to maintain order within Estera.

It is the smaller of the Major Guilds, remains aloof in Guild politics and yet is often seen acting as a mentor to the lesser guilds, and while not renowned as a wealthy guild, they hold a great deal of power with its continual support of the Priori.

Lawyers & Notaries

Third in Privilege and close supporters of the Judiciary, the ‘Notaries’ document everything that involves the City. Consequently, they maintain a vast archive in Estera, and are often referred to for establishing the ‘rule of precedence’. Conservative, reserved and meticulous in detail, the Notaries are a dependant backbone for the Priori and support the populace in their own specific way, with small libraries and schooling for those judged to be talented enough.

The Notaries are rumoured to be wealthy but no one outside the guild can say for sure. Something everyone agrees is that the Notaries know all about the other guilds.

Assayers

Fourth in Privilege and the fourth oldest guild, the ‘Assayers’ came into being when the population in the City and its surrounding lands first began mining the resources from the earth. Consistent and loyal, the Assayers are the best trusted of all guilds, for their word on the value of all things underpins the economy. The guild is also one of the most widespread and well-structured, with franchises of guild Lodges spread throughout the lands. Many a backward frontier village can boast its own Lodge where it’s Assayer plays a pivotal role in supporting civilisation there, and the Assayers provide an invaluable network of communication with their travelling garzoni journeymen.

The Assayers are a large yet dispersed guild, and from the commission they charge have a considerable wealth with a regular income, and are renowned as very generous benefactors, supporting many institutions and aspects of Esterian and Telian society.

Bankers

Fifth in Privilege and formed from a joining of some young Notaries and retired Assayers, the ‘Bankers’ are the pinnacle of the economy for Estera. The wealth of the City is governed by these men, and the Signoria relies upon their judgement to ensure that the City remains affluent, powerful and the one place that a merchant would wish to establish his trade. The guild is not that much bigger than the Judiciary in its membership, but its amassed wealth ensures it is sought after to support the ruling parties. Overseeing taxes and tariffs, the guild knows the state of health for the City’s prosperity and fortunes, and from its Assayer heritage, ensures that they are trusted to continue to maintain their status.

The Bankers support some charitable concerns, and have invested heavily in the small colleges that have sprung up in the City, including part-owning some of the guilds own schools. The Bankers also assist the Physicians with their Grand Hospital with continued financial support, while not necessarily sharing the Physicians altruistic aims.

Silk Weavers

Sixth in Privilege and formed after a split from the Clothiers, who still hold a slight degree of enmity and professional jealousy to the ‘Weavers’. After many years of internal dissent, clamouring for greater recognition of their particular skills, the Judiciary found in favour of the Weavers disputed claims and a new guild was the inevitable result.

The Weavers are renowned as elitist and insular, even more so after the Furriers subsequently split from them and set up another new guild. The members of the guild are another group of far-ranging travellers who seek out trade opportunities to bring back exotic items. Indeed it’s the Weavers who are responsible for the various breeds of animals that can be purchased from the City’s markets, some of the strange spices and herbs, and the exotic plants. Other guilds have a saying – ‘if it can be wrapped in a sward of cloth, the weavers will bring it home to Estera’.

Physicians and Apothecaries

Seventh in Privilege and one of the last of the major guilds to be formally recognised by the Priori, the ‘Physicians’ are the most devout of all guilds. More chapels and churches, and more hospices (obviously) are patronised by them than all the others. A friendly guild who maintain strong links of support with the Clothiers and Assayers, they also often assist the Judiciary in the form of a neutral arbitration service. Not considered a wealthy guild as such, the Physicians spend vast amounts pursuing their high-minded goals for providing care to all – regardless of birth, class or affiliation.

The guild enjoys one unique gain above all others – they never pay taxes. However, their fervent beliefs in equality and pacifism do not endear them to all of the ruling classes, and conflicts have arisen in the past, and the Physicians often have to draw in and temper their demands. The Esterian population regard them highly, and many overseas or foreign rulers seek to enchant or recruit the leading members of the guild to their domains. Esterian physicians and their apothecary cousins have advanced the world of medicine to new heights, and like other guilds, enjoy exploring the lands.

Furriers

Eighth in Privilege, and originally one part of the breakaway faction with the Silk Weavers, the ‘Furriers’ - or nicknamed simply 'the Skinners' by some other guilds - eventually tired of becoming second-class artisans yet again, and with Judiciary support, successfully separated from the Weavers and began a new guild, the youngest of the major concerns. In respect to their selective trade, and their reliance on travelling merchants and trappers providing them with their produce, the Furriers are one of the more far-ranging of all guilds.

Like the Assayers, their franchises are spread throughout the known lands, and again like the Assayers, their members provide the Priori with news and knowledge of the events and happenings from those regions. Discreet, quite wealthy, and quietly industrious, the guild has never demonstrated any real ambition to participate in the governing of Estera.

Tales from Estera - The Jaegerphagefest Explained

The annual five-day ‘Jaegerphagefest’ is altogether something special. Tradition has ensured that the Assayers Guild have sponsored this Festival for many generations. Currently held within the hault-Zeyr’s (pronounced ‘hal-zerr’) family grounds of their estate close to Guille in Telia, many Esterians and Telians trek to enjoy a five-day summer break just before the great harvesting begins.

The grounds surrounding the family’s manse are partitioned to allow guests of all classes to pitch their tents and awnings to camp for the duration, while the nobility can stay in their travelling caravans, or lodge in the local villages, inns and farmsteads, while the most important guests will be put up in the hault-Zeyr family’s manse itself. Other larger marquee tents are set up to allow for the sale of drink and food, and yet more arrive to sell their wares and crafts. Indeed, many of the other Guilds pay dividends to pitch their wares at the Festival too.

Several of the larger marquees are given over to Tournaments of the Assayers popular board game, and others are set up for theatre plays and music performances, sporting competitions and feats of endurance, and the guests of all types enjoy themselves throughout, as it is often a good opportunity to meet up with old acquaintances, make new friendships and partnerships, conduct a little diplomacy or trade, and all other manner of interactions. But the special feature of the five-day festival comes on the penultimate day, with the Primur game day.

On the fourth day, the crowds move to take up positions in the centre of the family’s formal gardens set in the green vale in the middle of the estate. Here, in an amazing replication of the game board, small square fields or plots of land, looking like ornate little gardens, divided by hedgerows, walls and fences with small ornate gateways of differing types, surround the Folly Tower, the starting point of the game.

Each Ward of the City of Estera, and the wards of Guille, and each town or city in Telia are all allowed to send one couple – their own ‘Knight’ and ‘Daughter’ – to take part in the Primur. Many send their most agile of athletes, and some of the nobility have even been known to take part. On the other side, estate workers and animals are ‘dressed’ up to act the part to resemble some of the mythical beasts of the tale, and a man from the hosting family always plays the part of the ‘Sorceror’.

The crowd cheers their favourites, the champions try to escape to the ‘Final Edge’, a lot more food and drink is consumed by all the spectators, and the game goes on all day until only one couple are left in, who are then decreed the winners, and are awarded a ‘Sword of the Forest’ for the ‘Knight’ (a silver shortsword encrusted with small shards of jade on the pommel and crossbar) and the ‘Glade Pendant’ for the ‘Daughter’ (a fairly expensive emerald set on a silver mount from a silver chain).

It is a benevolent act by the Assayers Guild and the hosting family and is one of the main highlights in the social calendar, probably appreciated more by the middle and lower classes of commoners and townsfolk truthfully, and reinforces the common belief that the Assayers are the more genuine, friendly and honest of all Guilds (something which occasionally rankles the Woollers and Clothiers).

Tales from Estera – The Jaegerphagefest is Announced

The Mayor crossed the small market square of Myddla, a little place of a few hundred souls, nowhere too important and friendly to all who ventured there. The Mayor, shifted the waistbelt around his girth that tried its best to hold the ceremonial robes in place, almost succeeding as he headed towards the cross, where he could see Glandine the town scribe, already leaning there, munching his way through an enormous apple. Other people trudged over the cobbles too, the townsfolk all heading for the centre point of this quaint settlement. One, the old Assayer Gnurrlison, carried a large parchment, fluttering in the early morning breeze. The Mayor stopped beside Glandine, who curtly nodded a morning greeting as he chewed, and Gnurrlison then joined them too.

“Good tidings to all,” the Assayer called out to everyone present, with arms outstretched and a wide smile across his whiskered face. The townsfolk on cue clapped and wished him the same in return.

“Your Worship, it gives me great pleasure, to hand you the town of Myddla’s official invite to the Assayers Guild Jaegerphragefest,” and with a well-practiced flourish the parchment swapped hands as the Mayor read aloud the now familiar words he had recited for many a year gone past.

The large gathering of townsfolk applauded as the parchment was fixed to the cross, and the younger folk crowded forward to view it. Inscribed on the gleaming pale yellow skin, great words and pictures in black ink spelled out what was to be had at this year’s Festival, all under the banner of the hault-Zeyr family’s crest at the top of the page. Every year this noble family, highly thought of and well placed at the head of the Assayers Guild, always sponsored the Festival for the commonfolk. And while the commonfolk played and caroused, the nobility would negotiate and plot and manipulate. It was the way such things were done within Estera’s lands.

Excitement rippled through the crowd of onlookers as those who had planned on attending spoke of preparations for journeys, plans to take food rations, and what they thought they could sell, and what would be there to buy when they got there. And there was much talk about the town champion too – their own ‘Knight’ – the Armoursmith’s son, Rydd, and the girl who would accompany him as the ‘Daughter’, the fair and beautiful Aenella. There were gossips in the town already that said the pair were lovers too.

The Mayor adjusted his robes again and waved his hands at the townspeople, hushing them to be quiet. Glandine took his cue from that, tossed the apple core behind him, opened up his chapbook, and began to scribble the words the Mayor uttered. No doubt it was going to be the same speech as last year, but the crowd cheered every sentence the Mayor spoke, as Glandine scratched away with his pencil.

Dalliances with Danger - The British Make Plans

The Special Investigative Aeronautical Service

 

Formed within the last few months and based at the mountain fastness of HMAS Collingwood, the Aerial & Telegraph Station, in the Hindu Kush, the Detachment, as it’s more colloquially referred to, has the logistical backing of the Scinde Commissariat of the Indian Army Service, under the guidance of the Procurement Section in the Foreign Office. The main component part of the Detachment is the Aerial Gun Sloop HMAS Alacrity.

And the Admiralty played its role too well – placing a recruiting advert in the London Gazette, whereupon a special team then had to be drawn together to sift and interview the applications.

‘Gentlemen Officers To Be Recruited!’

Gentlemen officers of either service actively sought after & encouraged to join the new Royal Naval Detachment – The Special Investigative Aeronautical Service.

Successful applicants should expect to serve away from Home stations & to barrack at the Aerial & Telegraph Station, HMAS Collingwood in the Hindu Kush. Service on board the Aerial Sloop, HMS Alacrity will be taken at Naval pay equivalent to current rank, & off-reckonings & mess bill accounts to be arranged with the Scinde Commissariat of the Indian Army Service.

Applicants can expect to serve all over the World as required by the Minister of War & the Admiralty. Life onboard HMS Alacrity will involve long flights & lengthy journeys, & we beseech you to consider this fully before applying – gentlemen of nervous flying dispositions & suffering from vertigo should consider that this service might not suit them. Able demonstrations of marksmanship will be standard, & studies of anthropology & linguistics will be held as an advantage. The Detachment is keen to recruit medically & technically-minded staff as well. A familiarity with the Naval Aerial Service is preferred but not necessarily required. All applicants will be chosen on demonstrated merits, good conduct, & excellent records of service.

The Detachment is also eager to encourage the recruiting of officers from the Dominions, Colonies & Dependencies of the Empire – in the case of the latter two, please provide a supporting letter of reference from your superior officer or civil administrator. Horse-riding & sports are actively encouraged as leisure pursuits. We regret that there are no facilities for Officer’s families & again beseech you to bear this in mind. Servants & batmen however can be provided accommodation, & horse remounts will be provided for.

Duties will involve the active & positive investigation & prosecution of agents & provocateurs set on de-stabilising the trade & well-being of the Empire. An analytical mind is as valuable as a good strong sword-arm. Training & briefings will be regular & all Officers will be expected to attend. Battle drills will be carried out along with the Station’s garrison of Bluejackets & Sikh infantry, & Officers will be expected to participate.

Interested parties should apply in writing in the first instance to:

Captain William H. B. Norris MC
Room 14 East, The Admiralty

For the main part, travelling expenses to the Hindu-Kush must be met in their entirety by the successful applicants. Advances may be made available.

Dalliances with Danger - The Opening Innings

'Les Enfant Perdus'

 

The general term given to Deveraux’s own military elite, made up of a mix of military shades, all intensely loyal to Deveraux and his lieutenants.

In amongst this ‘Brigade of Brigands’ are the Colonel’s own Siamese henchmen, along with a motley collection of American outlaws, gun-runners and profiteers, D’Allange’s renegade Foreign Legion deserters, and a cosmopolitan mixed-bag of Central and East Europeans with severed ties to their own homelands, many of whom are wanted criminals, anarchists, deserters and escaped convicts.

Led and ruled with an iron hand by Deveraux’s devoted lieutenants, Hiram Beck, Gunther von Ludecke and Francois D’Allange, they are fearsome in their execution of Deveraux’s military schemes, ruthless and well-equipped and battle-hardened with many experiences of clashing with the European Powers forces.

His Other Elements

 

Deveraux recruits additional forces wherever he lays down roots – often manipulating the local populace to do his bidding by guile, blackmail, extortion or false rewards and promises. Of questionable loyalty and motivation, but always a concern nevertheless. Integrating himself in such a fashion into a region provides him some degree of perimeter protection and forewarning, when the locals warn him of newcomers and outsiders. The Powers have found that stealthy infiltration into his various lairs and domains is always so difficult and challenging.

But Deveraux has a consistent weakness, an appetite for learning and technology, and the men and women who delve in its creation. Warranted he only desires such advances to further his evil ambitions, but it is an aspect that can be used against him, by those clever enough to construct stratagems worthy to pit against him.

Opening Batsmen for the Home Team

As the British have agreed with all present at the Craigievar Conference to take the lead in the counter-operation, the Ministers looked to the Royal Navy and the Army to see if they had any acceptable contingency plans available.

Sadly, the staff at the Admiralty and Horseguards had to reply in the hesitant negative, but thankfully up stepped a relative unknown, Sir Tristram Monk, Under-Secretary for Procurement at the Foreign Office. In a detailed presentation, Monk outlined the new Detachment he’d been commissioned to raise, the Special Investigative Aeronautical Service, recruited with personnel from both Arms of the British military and indeed, several destinations within the Empire itself, all recently featured in the Naval & Military Gazette. Based in a mountain fortress in the Hindu Kush, the Detachment as it’s more commonly known would be an excellent first choice to make the first moves against Deveraux.

All present agreed with his excellent analysis, and promised assistance where they could, towards the campaign. Monk was tasked with completing the preparations and promptly relocated himself to India after the conference ended. The Foreign Office agreed to keep all those present informed of proceedings.

The Powers allowed themselves a momentary breath of relief.

Dalliances with Danger – The Craigievar Castle Conference

Just what stratagem Colonel Deveraux has planned to attack the British Empire with, yet again, is unknown. The British, as the principally threatened power have striven to track and contain the Arch-Criminal in whatever location he has now considered to use as his base for his nefarious operations. Much foot-plodding and hard investigative work has been made in the dark streets and alleyways of the European capitals, stealthily following his known associates, and tracing the funds that Deveraux never seems to be short of.

At a recent extra-special conference of the Investigating Agencies of the Imperial Powers, held in the remote confines of Craigievar Castle, a week of deliberation was spent in assessing the best counters to make against Deveraux’s destructive ambitions.

The Craigievar Conference settled on the following four examinations:

 

The Case of the Swiss Merchant, brought to the conference by the French Surete

In a classic textbook operation of surveillance and entrapment, Monsieur Atage, a Swiss resident of Nice, was arrested and interrogated, releasing a horde of details about the arms procurement Deveraux had been known to be engaged upon. With many millions of Swiss Francs changing hands, considerable tonnages of arms and ammunitions had been directed from French and German manufacturers to unknown destinations in the Mediterranean. Some of Hiram Beck’s key players, known gun-runners, had acted as go-betweens, with a disreputable Greek shipping line, all investigated by Lloyds of London agents. French officials now surmise that these arms are destined for a major uprising somewhere in East Africa or the Middle-East, and have traced two sailing vessels, one to the Eastern Mediterranean Sea, the other to the frozen wastes around Greenland. It is their belief that Deveraux has some vast new training ground at the latter.

The Case of the Great Mirror, outlined at the conference by the Russian Okhrana

The Russian Delegation provided copious files on an ongoing investigation of one of their own scientists, Dr. Ivan Nossovitch. It transpired that Dr. Nossovitch was engaged in serious research into the manufacture of a ‘super reflector’ – a giant mirror lens that would enable the Russian Imperial Military to install their first Earth-based heliograph. Continued experiments with the ‘super reflector’ had discovered, by accident, it’s further potential as a weapon, when reflected sun-rays ignited several hundred acres of Siberian forest. With the experiment temporarily suspended pending an internal enquiry, visiting officers of the Russian Imperial Aerial Naval Flotilla arrived to find all trace of the Doctor, his staff and the ‘super reflector’ gone. A sweeping search was conducted using the 12^th Cossack Cavalry Regiment, and evidence was discovered that the trail ran northwards, to the east of Novaya Zemla, and onto the frozen wastes of the Arctic Circle. The Okhrana’s presumption is that the entire experiment has either voluntarily or under duress, been given to Deveraux at either his Newfoundland or Greenland base of operations.

The Case of the Missing Zeppelin, read to the conference by the German Wache40

 
With a certain degree of embarrassment, the German Delegation announced that a certain party of Leftist terrorists successfully hijacked a Zeppelin from the marshalling sheds at the Imperial Naval yard at Wilhelsmhaven. The small garrison of Naval cadets were overpowered in an early morning infiltration, and at least 15 armed men removed a various amount of machinegun ordnance from the magazines, loaded the stolen property aboard L-13, and cast off, heading out over the North Sea. A small patrol Zeppelin gave chase but was driven off by light rocket fire. The Zeppelin was then discreetly tracked from a distance until lost in a high fogbank just 11 miles North-North-East of the Shetlands. An American merchant captain consequently reported sighting a ‘German dirigible’ approaching Greenland the following day. The Germans assured the conference that no other weaponry was stolen during the infiltration of their naval yard.

The Case of the ‘Marie-Lucerne’, shown to conference by the British Special Branch

An ongoing investigation briefly detailed by the Special Branch was that of the merchant steamer ‘Marie-Lucerne’ boarded and taken in an act of piracy close to Foulness, Essex. The cargo was disclosed as amounting to 800 tons of high-explosive gun cotton, and the vessel was sighted off the Newfoundland coastline, after a failed recovery attempt by smaller Royal Naval vessels, and was last seen heading into Canadian waters. Lloyds will continue to monitor reports of sightings from the world’s sea-lanes, but enough evidence exists to confirm Deveraux’s involvement.