The Adventure of the Black Heart, Part 5

I had not forgotten my theory that the body of Bernard Blindside, the archaeologist, had fallen from - or was thrown from - the Clockhaven town wall. The next day, I made my way back to Clockhaven once again in order to test my theory. I crawled into one of the guard stations and from there onto the top of the wall. As I nearly reached the end of the wall, I saw a familiar sight: yellow chemical blotches, the same blotches I had last seen in the sewers after the Beast and its liberator made their escape. I was on the right track!

I followed the trail into the tunnel inside the wall until the splotches abruptly ended. I stood there, puzzled. Where could they have gone - inside solid rock? Then I noticed that the rock became unnaturally smooth for a few inches, a span so small that a casual passer-by would not have noticed anything unusual. I ran my hands around the smooth area and heard a catch spring open. It was a door! I pressed against it and the door swung in, revealing a small laboratory. Drawing my pistol, I stepped cautiously inside.

The room was empty. An upended chair, several chains, and blood stains suggested my theory was correct: this was where Blindside had been taken and tortured. When his usefulness was at an end, he was taken topside and thrown off the wall, his body eventually floating back to Port Babbage and the docks. How much did the archaeologist know? Was he part of this fiendish plot, or did he stumble across part of the secret? We may never know.

I searched the room quickly, afraid that its owner would return at any moment. Several charts were tacked to the wall, one revealing the plans of the Mark IV Beast cage that the urchins had developed (the one that finally succeeded in trapping the creature), and one displaying a schematic for a device of some sort. On the table lay Salador's journal, with all the alchemist's notes about his horrible experiments. Finally, a note, written on the stationery of the Van Creed society, said that Salador had discovered the homunculus and a formula that would bring the homunculus to life.

Before I could be discovered, I left the tiny room and returned to the Hotel Excelsior to ponder what I had learned.

And with that, my role in the story is essentially at an end. I was at a standstill, not knowing who might be responsible for the present atrocities. I could speculate: someone - probably in the Van Creed society - uncovered Salador's journal, learned of the experiments with the homunculi, learned of the story of Helen and Sebastian and understood where Saldor went wrong in creating the Beast, and decided to create another immortal. Who and why, though, was something I could not fathom, and had no leads to follow. As anticlimactic as this may seem, that's the way it goes some days in the investigative journalism business.

In another sense, however, the fun was just beginning. Clockwinder Tenk called a town hall meeting of Babbage citizens to discuss the matter. Before they could assemble, however, young Miss Myrtil Igaly was attacked, made to cry, and, odd as it may seem, had her tears stolen. At the meeting, the mysterious stranger who lurked on the rooftops revealed himself as Mr. Sebastian Verwood, of the Order of Malkuth - as improbable as it sounds, the very same Sebastian who once loved a young lady named Helen! Mr. Verwood's analysis of the situation was that "we believe that someone in this town wants to try and complete the formula and correct Salador's failure," though he did not know who this person might be.

The urchins, in their own way, related to the assembled townspeople how Myrtil had been attacked, her tears stolen, and how the assailant had fled into a room above Sir Willard's lodgings, locking himself inside with the homunculus machine.

As Mr. Lans Starsider related, a cadre of Babbagers, including Mr. Starsider, Mr. Maltheus Canis, the Malkuth knights, and young Master Tepic, Master Gadget and Miss Myrtil, stormed the secret room, only to find Mr. Slooth Mosswood - yes, the same Slooth Mosswood with whom I had a seemingly innocuous conversation the day before - having engaged the regeneration machine, planting a brain into a homunculus. Gadget succeeded in destroying the machine, causing an electric surge and a flood that apparently killed Mosswood, but not before the machine successfully brought to life the mind of Jason Moriarty, a villain well known to Babbagers. No one knows Moriarty's fate, though most believe him to be alive and planning mischief.


Afterward, I visited the room above Sir Willard's laboratory, but there was nothing left to salvage.


I write these notes in the hotel lobby, waiting for transportation back to the airport to take the Hangover Two back to Caledon. This part of the story may be finished, but I cannot help but believe that more remains to be written.

[Note: I would like to thank Mr. Loki Eliot for the hard work he did in creating this puzzle for all to enjoy, and I'd also like to thank all the Babbagers who participated in the roleplay. Clearly many others were following the clues as I was, and I make no claims to great cleverness. I spent many enjoyable hours exploring New Babbage, tracking down the clues provided, talking with some of the residents (including one villain!), and finding additional hints in the journals of Babbagers. I look forward to future adventures in the city. - RJ]

The Adventure of the Black Heart, Part 4

Word filtered down that a body had been discovered in Port Babbage, floating face-down in the water, and I hastened to the site. All too quickly it became clear that this was the body of Mr. Blindside, the missing archaeologist. Battered and bruised, the body had fallen - or been dropped - from a great height. Clutched in his hand was a hand-lettered scrap of paper, torn from a larger piece, reading "The last ingredient that would bring the homunculi to life was a tear from a virgin. This is where I had gone wrong, and if I had more time, perhaps I could correct this mistake..."

I pondered this for a moment, but could make no sense of the note. Instead, I turned to considering where Mr. Blindside could have been shortly before his death. The port, of course, had no tall buildings nearby; only docks surrounded the Vernian Sea. Nearby were some tall buildings, but none seemed tall enough - or near enough - to the location of the body to have been involved in the gruesome business. Out of thoroughness, I checked each one, but could find no trace that Blindside had been there. High above the port was a moored fuel ship. Again, I scoured the airship but could find no evidence of recent human activity, much less a struggle.

I gazed into the distance. Past the port, past Doctor Obolensky's observatory, past even Tinny Tim stood the great wall that protected New Babbage from the ravages of the sea. The section of the wall visible from where I stood was in Clockhaven. The tides seemed to flow toward me and, more importantly, toward where the body still bobbed gently. I filed that idea away.

I was disturbed from my reverie by two burly men who had arrived to carry Mr. Blindside into a carriage and from there take the body to the morgue where presumably a doctor would examine the corpse carefully. I made my way to the morgue as well. Though I did not learn anything new about the body, there was a curious incident. Shortly after I arrived at the morgue, I was met by a Mr. Slooth Mosswood. [editrix's note: this is absolutely true, and shows what a gullible sap I really am. - RJ] Believing Mr. Mosswood to be on the trail of the killer just as I was, we had an amiable chat for several moments. I thought to lay out my theory regarding where the archaeologist had been killed and asked Mosswood whether he thought the prevailing tides could carry a body from the Clockhaven wall back to the port. He replied that he thought it might, then excused himself. "I must return to my researches on the human brain," he said. A cold feeling passed through me. Before I could react, he was gone.

Visiting the morgue turned out to have one very important consequence for me. Here I need to back up a little. Earlier in my explorations I had sought shelter from the cold and wind by stepping into the absinthe shop across the canal from the coffins of the Malkuth guardians. As I sipped a deliciously intoxicating glass of absinthe, I wandered about the shop, peering at the pictures on the wall, when I noticed a familiar mark on one of the paintings. The picture depicted two young lovers, Helen and Sebastian, and a tiny plaque attached to the painting said the picture was based on the ancient Babbage legend about the pair, as written on the Clockhaven fountain. When I was in Clockhaven, I visited the fountain and found that it was indeed inscribed with words about Helen and Sebastian - the two were (as young lovers often are) separated and Helen still waits for her Sebastian "under two stones between two trees." I was still puzzling over the meaning of this, as New Babbage was woefully short of trees, when I heard an old woman crying out something having to do with "the lovers Helen and Sebastian." Rushing toward the voice, I saw an elderly homeless woman in a tattered dress, stumbling about with a huge pack on her back, no doubt containing all her possessions. This was none other than Margo Steamweaver, Sir Willard's widow, whom I had met during the previous year's adventure! [Or so I inferred. Sometimes it's hard to keep the players straight without a scorecard. - RJ] Knowing that the woman's mental state was fragile, I spoke to her calmly and gently asked what she knew about Helen's grave. Though Margo's response was somewhat cryptic, I understood her to say that the grave site was located in the Palisades, outside the wall, in a meadow where sheep grazed. I thanked her and pressed some cash into her hands, urging her to find a room for the night, even as I knew she would not. I left her chasing a squirrel in the park adjacent to the Town Hall.

Armed with that clue, I found Helen's grave with little difficulty - and with it, an ancient scroll in the same language as I discovered earlier. As I clutched my prize to my chest, I looked up, only to see the robed figure I had observed earlier, again watching me. "Who are you?" I yelled, but he disappeared.


The Translatograph was once again helpful, and revealed much of the history of this foul business. Sebastian Verwood was a young knight of the Malkuth order. He fell in love with a girl named Helen Salador, whose father was a powerful alchemist (and clearly the Salador of the riddle I had solved earlier). Salador pere believed he had discovered the secret of immortality: that within each of us was an essence, our homunculus, and that this, along with a virgin's tears, could be used to create an immortal being. Salador used his daughter's tears to create a creature, only to find that his creation was a raging beast; naturally, as young people in love have not changed across the centuries, Helen had succumbed to her swain's importunations. The creature - clearly our present-day Beast - went on a rampage, killing a number of children before it was cornered, captured, and imprisoned in a sarcophagus for eternity. Helen was killed, but Sebastian was spared to become one of the three guardians of the creature, though one might consider his to be the worse fate.

I now understood the historical context, but was still at a loss as to who was trying to replicate Salador's methods...or why he would have released the Beast from the trap in which it was imprisoned. That would have to wait for another day.

Little did I know that my time was running out...

The Adventure of the Black Heart, Part 3

I walked to Clockhaven, to the town square, and consulted the hand-drawn map to search for the old dig. "Look for the hidden door," I read, "next to the stairs."

I find the hidden door - and a deep snowdrift

Before I knew it, I found myself chest-deep in snow, as the winds must have pushed the snowfall into this corner, and merchants shoveling their sidewalks added to the pile. Cursing Bernard Blindside for having the poor taste to be abducted during the winter, I struggled ahead to the wall and triggered the latch of the hidden door.

Once inside, several feet below the cellars of the buildings above, I followed the map into the drainage system. Already soaking wet from the snow, I decided that the additional moisture from walking through the ankle-deep water would not appreciably increase the odds of contracting pneumonia.

Soon I found myself confronted with a panel containing writing in an ancient language. I assumed there was a chamber behind the panel, but I could find no way of creating an opening. More out of desperation than anything, I made a rubbing of the panel, hoping someone at the Academy could decipher the text. Clutching my rubbing to keep it above the water, I made my way back outside. My next step was clear: find some clean, dry clothes!

A runic message.

As I made my way across Port Babbage, I noticed another flier for "The Amazing Translatograph" located in the Town Hall. Perhaps I needn't consult an academic after all, though it was beyond me how a machine could translate an unknown language.

The Translatograph was indeed in the Town Hall, on the ground floor. The machine itself resembled a giant microscope with dozens of pistons and gears. I laid down the rubbing on the machine, pressed the start button, and waited as the Translatograph warmed up, the pistons moving faster and faster until they became no more than blurs. Relays clicked from somewhere inside the mechanism...

The Amazing Translatograph.

...until the engine displayed an English translation of the text of the rubbing. A truly wondrous piece of New Babbage engineering!

The translation!

I read:

I am the mortal god Salador;
If you seek my legacy then speak the answer to this riddle:

Sheared close by a shaping blade,
Honed smooth by a fierce file
Sometimes I swallow my tempered foe.
When bound by rings I heave from behind,
Trust a long limb through a hard hole.
Catch hard the keeper of the heart's pleasure,
Twist with my tongue and turn back
The midnight guardian of my lord's treasure.
When the conquering warrior comes to hold
The gift of slaughter, the joy of gold.

I pondered the riddle. "Sheared close...honed smooth." Hmm, this conjured up an image, but what? "Thrust a long limb through a hard hole." Should a maiden really be reading such things? "Twist...guardian of...treasure." The light bulb went on.

I realized that warm, dry clothes were still in my distant future as I rapidly returned to Clockhaven, the hidden door, the drainage system, and the panel. I spoke the answer to the riddle...and was rewarded when the panel slid up, revealing a small chamber within. A small basket, empty, lay inside, its lid sitting off to the side. A piece of parchment showed that I had indeed found this Salador's hiding place, but that I was too late: someone had found it before me and taken away his papers. I sighed heavily.

Returning to the surface and once again determined to find dry clothing, I trudged wearily to my rooms in the Hotel Excelsior. I looked up at one point, only to see a hooded man, wearing medieval garb, standing on the roof of one of the buildings. He appeared to be looking directly at me, though he did not acknowledge my presence. When I stared back, he retreated into the shadows and disappeared. I thought I saw him on other rooftops along my route but I could never be quite certain.

Back in Babbage Square, the urchins had redoubled their efforts to capture the Beast. If the Mark III trap was impressive, the Mark IV trap left nothing to chance, its iron walls forming a cage, the barbed wire ensuring that nothing ensnared could escape. The operator sat atop the cage and activated the mechanism, which involved a series of pulleys and ropes. The scamps were prepared for a long siege, as the operator's area included bedding.


A trap for the Beast - Mark IV

These preparations ultimately paid off. After a few false alarms, the Beast did return to the area, and the iron gates fell with a loud clang, trapping the creature inside! Brave - or foolhardy - townspeople rushed to see what the trap contained. Before they arrived, however, a large explosion echoed off the iron inside the confined space. When someone unlocked and raised the gate, they saw a gaping hole in the bottom of the cage - and no sign of the Beast.

The Beast escapes!

The hole went through the pavement and led directly into the drainage system. Armed with pistols and torches, several people went through the hole to search for the creature. They saw nothing other than the debris from the explosion and some discolored splotches in the ice, which were later determined to be some sort of chemical residue. Despite an extensive search, neither the Beast nor its liberator - for there could no longer be any doubt that someone was actively aiding the creature - could be found.


[And with that, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, a happy Solstice, or a joyous celebratory day of your choice!]

The Adventure of the Black Heart, Part 2

The excavation was in Babbage Square, not far from the mortuary - an odd but fitting coincidence, as I will relate later. Mr. Blindside, prior to his disappearance, had placed the sarcophagus in a standing position and roped off the area to prevent passers-by from contaminating the site. This proved to be helpful for the police, who were able to keep the crime scene - if that is what it was - roped off. This did not prevent hordes of curious onlookers from tromping through the soil, touching the sarcophagus, feeling the seam where someone - something - erupted from the solid container, pawing through any clues that may have been left behind.


The excavation site

Although the site itself was of little help to me, I arranged to see copies of the documents that were found on the excavation site, on or near Mr. Blindside's tool bag. The first was a reference to an earlier dig, and the finding of an artifact there. The artifact now resided in the R.F. Burton library in New Babbage. At the old dig was a stone wall, inscribed in an ancient, unknown language. The second document was a hand-drawn map indicating the location of the earlier dig, beneath the old city of Clockhaven. I made some notes and reproduced the map. A third document was apparently a letter to Blindside, and the fourth was a map of New Babbage with certain spots marked by hand, suggesting these were areas Blindside had visited or intended to visit. A curious collection.


The urchins try to trap the Beast - with no success

Because the library was nearby, I first headed there. The artifact, when a busy librarian could spare the time to show me to the small room where it was kept, resembled a large nut - not the edible kind, but the sort that Babbage engineers would use to construct their tall iron buildings. The nut (for that is how I thought of it) contained the mark of Malkuth, the ancient deity that was believed to rule over our world. I had encountered the mark of Malkuth before, investigating the Secret of the Thirteen. Could this be related to the guardians of Malkuth in the crypt below Babbage Square? I borrowed the artifact with a solemn promise to return it. "In good condition, Miss Jameson!" the librarian called after me.

Passing by the town hall, I noticed a series of fliers touting the wonders of something called a Translatograph, supposedly able to render in English a translation of any language, using the strength of an enormous Babbage Engine. What will those engineers devise next? I marveled. The wind swirled around me and I pulled my coat closer. I was glad to get out of the wind and into a sheltered alleyway where I once again found the mark of Malkuth, the entrance to the secret crypt. Descending carefully into the crypt, I made my way to the sealed tomb. On the top of the tomb was a small indentation that appeared to be about the size of... From my bag, I pulled out the "nut" I had retrieved from the library. It fit perfectly! As though the crypt had been set into place only yesterday, and not centuries before, the top of the tomb rotated smoothly, revealing the disintegrating remains of a skeleton...and an ancient scroll.


I discover the relic of the old dig

The scroll revealed the resident of the tomb to be one of the Guardians of Malkuth, dedicated to ensuring that the ancient god would not return to our time stream. The other two tombs were empty. What could that mean?

This matter was becoming increasingly perplexing. The archaeologist may have unearthed an ancient evil, whether intentionally or by accident. This evil was almost surely related to the cult of Malkuth. But Mr. Blindside had no reason to disappear, and it seemed unlikely that the Beast - which has thus far attacked children only - would have attacked the archaeologist, nor would the Beast have so neatly disposed of the body. Something more modern was at work here.

I had three potential lines of inquiry: look for Mr. Blindside, look for the Beast, or try to understand the nature of the threat. I had no idea how to go about the first; the urchins and, seemingly, half of New Babbage, was on the trail of the second; so that left the third avenue to pursue. Fortunately, I had a map. I set out for Clockhaven to search for the old dig.

The Adventure of the Black Heart, Part 1

I often have the occasion to think about the nature of evil, particularly the evil that men do to one another. I do not think men of the Steamlands are particularly vile - humankind is fairly consistent, it seems to me - but there is no denying that we have our fair share of mischief and wrongdoing. And perhaps the Steamlands, existing in a strange location in the time stream and subject to influences from other places and times, are susceptible to ancient evils, including those not of our own sphere.

These thoughts were not far from my mind when I read the dispatch from New Babbage: an archaeologist by the name of Bernard Blindside had gone missing. One might think that unremarkable, as the residents of New Babbage are in constant flux, and even an archaeologist might find it desirable to disappear, whether from creditors, an angry mistress, or merely a yearning to wake up to a different view. Yet Mr. Blindside had recently made a remarkable discovery on a site in Babbage Square, near the abandoned Imperial Theatre. He had unearthed a sarcophagus of ancient vintage and was in the process of examining the find when he vanished - and the sarcophagus showed signs of something bursting from within, leaving a thin trail of blood along the edges. This piqued my interest, but what moved me to pack my bags and ask that my airship be readied were the reports of a horrible creature, inhuman in form, having attacked several youngsters. One had vanished and was presumed dead, as no one could have survived that loss of blood (though he was later found alive, and the blood had a different explanation entirely). A young lady, reputed to be Miss Myrtil Igaly, had suffered a gash to her leg, though she was expected to make a full recovery. A third, Master Nat Merit, had also suffered a leg injury, this one so severe that the surgeons were forced to amputate. Babbage's street urchins, legendarily independent, street-savvy, and clever, had devised traps of increasing size and ingenuity with which to trap the creature, but had thus far met no success.

Were the three incidents - the discovery, Mr. Blindside's disappearance, and the creature's attacks - linked? Logic dictated that the answer was yes. I sensed the possibility of a story, one that might transcend the humdrum crimes I had been reporting of late. I left a note for Kathy to tell her where I was going and set out for New Babbage.

***

Winter had come early to the Steamlands and had hit New Babbage particularly hard. From the air, the city's normal sooty color had changed to white. True, it was a dingy, dirty white as the residue from the city's coal-fired power plants continued to rain on the streets and buildings, but it gave the impression of a soothing, peaceful place. How wrong initial impressions can be!

As I maneuvered the Hangover Two to the mooring tower, I could feel the wind buffet the airship. I managed to reach the grappling hook at the same time a large gust hit the ship and blew her sideways, and the ship shuddered to a halt on the hook after rocking against the tower. I exited the ship and sneaked a glance at the crew in the mooring tower, who were shaking their heads and no doubt complaining about female pilots from the safety of their heated control room. Why don't you boys try docking a ship in a gale, I fumed silently before making my way to the streets below.

Airships Through a Lagstorm

I will return to the little tour of CDS states in a bit, but I wanted to mention the Shadow of the 13 mystery/RP game going on now in New Babbage. Both Dr. Fabre and Miss Carver have mentioned it in their Journals (as has New World News, but Mr. Au gets enough hits that he doesn't need the publicity), but I thought I should plug it as well.

Constructed and executed by the multi-talented Master Loki Eliot, the mystery starts with the discovery of a body, and some barrels that appear to have come from the sky. After that...? We will have to see if other clues present themselves. My understanding is that the clues are fixed in place and do not require any particular interactions with Babbagers (a good thing, given the different times that people are in-world), and can be approached as time permits.

I tried twice to make some headway, but I confess I was beaten back both times by lag so horrid that I could hardly move. Babbage is a laggy place at best, but this past week has been a hard one on the grid, for reasons that I don't understand. I can only hope it gets better.

Babbage seems to have had an influx of urchins, or perhaps they have just become more visible. I mis-identified the gender of one, due in part to the lag (things weren't rezzing well) (and young sir, the long hair didn't help), so my apologies to him for that, as I think he was out of range when I sent my apology via chat. Are they related to the game? Time will tell.

Babbage has become a large place, and those who are not residents are likely to find themselves at a disadvantage. The Shadow of the 13 Aetherweb site has a map of Babbage with a few sites helpfully marked, but it takes me so long to find anyplace that it's tough sledding for me at best. I can only hope that I can find a location that a clue references.

In any event, the idea is a smashing one, and I commend Master Loki for putting everything together.

(Apologies for the title to Crosby, Stills, and Nash and their "Horses Through a Rainstorm.")

Edit 1/13/10: Lag was less last night, almost back to New Babbage's usual "it's a little laggy in here" self. Whether this was because of a grid-wide improvement, or rebooting Babbage, or simply fewer people in the sim, I don't know. I was able to find several clues - though what they all mean I still have no idea.

Selidor: Fantasy RP

Selidor is a fantasy RP area that I stumbled across one evening. I started inside the castle, which floats on the sea, with no obvious way to shore.

Though the castle looks time-worn, the inside is quite civilized.

I stopped and perused books in the well-appointed library. This is "Liber Obscurum," or the Library of the Occult.

I know why the caged bird sings...

The neighboring sim provides more opportunities for medeival/elvin fantasy RP.

"Mead! Bring me more mead! And cute serving boys!"

The town occupies a large section of the sim, with a number of different types of buildings for the peasantry.

Well, mostly peasantry. Another nice little library awaits.

The sun beams into the old chapel.

Weimar Berlin Revisited

I recently revisited the era of Weimar Berlin, finding that it has expanded since my earlier visit.

One can stop for a hair styling...

...or listen to the latest vinyl recordings.

I marveled at how small they were now making players!

The library contains numerous volumes on the Weimar Republic and the culture of the time - essentially, Berlin in the 20s, between the two great wars.

The sim remains a fairly strict RP area, with a stern warning to dress in period costume (though no one complained about my 1940s-era dress, so perhaps close counts). Despite the fact that, historically, this was an era in which the National Socialists rose in popularity, ultimately taking power, the one deviation from historical accuracy upon which the sim owners insist is: no Nazis. In some sense this is a loss, as RP involving the contrast between the decadent old regime and the awful regime-yet-to-come might be interesting. No doubt some would take it too far, though, ruining the experience for everyone.

I don't recall if the church, above, was in place during my previous visit, but the art gallery, below, is surely a new addition.

When I was there, rehearsals for some sort of a live show - perhaps a burlesque-style show - were underway, so I did not bother any of the performers. I saw a lady of the evening, lounging in a doorway, waiting for a customer so she could ply her trade. (Not that I'm suggesting anything to the gentlemen of the Steamlands.)

Interestingly, the day before this was scheduled to post, Mrs. Dio Kuhr mentioned that she had just visited the sim and would be writing up her recollections of her visit; this lovely - and far more detail-oriented - post can be found here, and is well worth reading if you have not done so already, Dear Reader.