by C. Mahood
As I returned to the Annabel I was, and still am, most concerned in both Sir Blakely’s involvement in the dealing of the Grey, and my own.
Captain Charles Todd
April 10th
Well bugger it, it happened again. A simple, routine mission turned into a piss poor show of uncontrollable buggering mess. Mr Thomas led an expedition to the ground of this new dimension. The first two days were easy, nice even. I took a few hours to walk on the sands of where we landed. I made my way to the forest of trees so high I could not see the top. We made camp and enjoyed a drink or two as well. There were no signs of life here so the crew were all relaxed. I cannot relax however. Not with Danny missing. I was disappointed when we saw no signs of life or, well, signs of anything really. Mr Thomas insisted on staying the night on the ground, I however only sleep well in my quarters. As usual, the fate of the Annabel’s crew was once more in the balance. When we awoke and descended to the camp once more Mr Thomas was gone. I sensed foul play and began to search for any foot prints, tracks or any indication of where he had gone. His tent was ransacked. All his parchment had been burnt and his boots were still by the end of his bed.
Mr George Thomas
April 12th
The ones that took me consisted of six Ex-Navy men and four Cogburn-born men, all of whom wore grey cloaks. They immediately commenced stealing from me and from the tent where I was taken from. I just watched, they took what they considered most valuable; not riches, for we had none, mostly bread, meal, and meat. Having taken as much as they could carry, they set out with their prisoner in great haste, for fear of detection.
On our march that day, one of the grey men went behind me with a whip, with which he frequently lashed out and with considerable force, to make me keep up. In this manner we walked till dark, without a mouthful of food or a drop of water, although we had not eaten since the night before.
When I asked for water, they made me drink piss, or go thirsty. At night they encamped in the woods, without fire and without shelter, there I was watched with the greatest vigilance and hatred. I felt like an animal on display in a zoo no one wished was there. Extremely tired, and very hungry, I was forced to curl up on the ground, without food or a drop of water to satisfy my cravings or my appetite. At dawn we marched, in the same order that we had proceeded the day before.
When the sun rose we were halted, strangely, we were given some bread, cheese and some water from the stream beside us. I was so very hungry and I partook of this bounty. Our stop being finished, we again resumed our march; and before noon passed a small settlement.
By evening time, we arrived at the edge of a dark, wet, and smelly swamp, which was covered with long grass, what looked like giant lily, algae or some other evergreen, and various kinds of bushes, into which I was sent first; and having gone a short distance, we stopped to camp for the night.
Here we had some bread and meat for supper; but the unknowing of my outcome and the depressing nature of my trip, without a word spoken, was beginning to break down my spirit. I was alone, cold, scared, but surprisingly no longer hungry or thirsty. I dared not think of my outcome, was I to be a sacrifice, a gift, or worse, a meal? My future destiny, stolen from me.
The Grey man then pushed me down a path ahead some distance into the bushes or woods, and there beat me round the back of my head, sending me into a dazed and sudden, restless sleep, for what I can only guess was hours.
After yet another hard day's march we camped in a thicket, where the grey men made a shelter of sticks and leaves, and then built a good fire to warm and dry my shaking and numb limbs and clothing; for it had rained some through the day. I could not understand the rationale or reason behind their treatment of me. From time to time I heard muttering as they spoke in hushed whispers to each other. Never once had they spoken to me or explained the reason for my capture. Where we were headed even. I was lost, alone and truly scared, but more so I was annoyed and angered. My blood began to boil and thoughts of death left my head. The fear was now replaced with a will to retaliate. I looked for anything I could use as a weapon. While I was not being watched I stashed sharp stones and sticks under my shirt, to be used when needed.
When the grey men had finished their supper, they took from their baggage a number of pictures, trophies and documents. I could not get a good look at them but I swear I saw the crests of Cogburn and the I.D.B. The place where we had camped became clear to me now. It was the ruins of a great structure. Perhaps a temple of theatre but a large opening. There were bricks that rose up high in front of me but nothing but ruin behind where I sat. The grey men placed lights around the inside of the building and started placing small square barrel type trucks in the corners. As I strained my eyes to see what they were I could see one of them close the lid and unravel a long roll of what looked like string. I caught a glimpse of the contents before the lit was shut. Dynamite. Most definitely rolled explosives, the string was the fuse. I could not understand why they had brought me here. I looked around and shouted. My answer was a boot in my face. I fell backwards and my vision was blurry. I had fallen onto my back. Staring upwards I could see something floating above me. As my vision focused once more I could clearly see the statue of the winged man hanging above where I sat. It became clear that we were in a temple of the winged man. The grey men were planning on destroying it. With me inside. That can be the only reason I was taken here.
Other than the sounds of grey man placing charges and unravelling fuse, my newly attached chain bindings on my hands, the night was silent, so silent that I could hear voices in the distance, familiar to me, not the hushed whispers of the grey men but ones calling my name. The grey men stood and raised weapons towards the darkness outside of the luminosity of the fire. They spread out. For the first time, not watching me. I Looked around and spotted a familiar face emerging from the shadow. The face I will forever be in debt to. Captain Todd had walked out of the shadow, into the light, the first grey man attacked him but his pistol had not enough time to raise towards its target. Captain Todd had fired on round, opening the skull of his opponent, he followed that with yet another shot from his other pistol, this caught eh stomach of one of the grey as he turned to face him. I seized my moment to attach. The grey man closest to me had his back turned. I jumped to my feet and wrapped my arms and chains around his neck, squeezing with all of my might, pulling him to the ground and refusing to let go. I felt the life drain from his as his struggles became softer until he gave up hope and life. So focused on my current task I failed to see the invasion around me. I am sure the battle was great but I simply lay on my back. The life of another man stained my shirt and hands red.
The crew of the Annabel had come to my aid. The grey men had been slaughtered. Killed every one. If not through the swift justice of a bullet, then by the fast stroke of a well sharpened blade. It may be no consolation to the now deceased, but the end was fast for them all.
Lieutenant Hartley was the first to my side. He snapped the chains and raised me to my feet. Not one individual spoke as we returned to the Annabel. I scribe these words now and they are the last time the thoughts of that day will cross my mind wilfully. I wake in the night often now. Seeing the face of that man in grey. Hearing his breathing stop. Captain Todd had many wise words of comfort. He is seasoned in combat and war. He had taken many lives and seen many die. He informs me that the pain and the memory never leave, but the reason becomes more clear. With reason it is permitted, without reason, it would bring you to an early grave.
We returned to the ship. Once we had climbed to altitude the course was set to return to the I.D.B. The crew mostly left me alone. I was angered at my failing in the mission on which I had been sent. Captain Todd still feels the loss of Young Danny. He hopes we will find clues to his whereabouts. On my capture all of my maps and drawings and findings were destroyed. I would have to return with empty hands. Or so I thought.
It was the unlikeliest of people who brought hope back to me. A hand drawn sk
etch. One of a building. From a distance. From a height. Bill Ironforn handed me the drawing he did as the Annabel passed over the temple. The sketch was rough, sloppy, not shading and the pencil work was shaken, but that aside it had a perfect, bold interpretation of a symbol. A beautiful, black, Enocian cymbal. I had not the energy or the ability to thank him with words or actions. It would not be appropriate, but I wished to hug the man, at least shake his hand. We settled for a simple nod. In that exchange all that need to be said, was. I shall return now to the I.D.B with the truth. My findings were lost but a greater discover has been made.
A knock on the door only moments ago. Mr Pete Bronston entered. He handed me another document. It had the seal of the grey men on the top and also the seal of the IDLSSW. Inside were plans of prepared expeditions, names of crew men and names of ships. Among them were pictures. My heart sank as I held in my hand a picture of Sir Bleakly, standing in a line-up of several other men of importance, all wearing similar robes. Robes of Grey. Among them, at the front stood Mr Bleakly, his hand on the shoulder of a boy, that until now, I had not made the connection of resemblance. There at the very front, sat Sir Blakely’s son, In Grey Robes also, Danny Racket. I must report this to the captain immediately. This changes everything.
Lieutenant Hartley.
April 15th
Things have become much more complicated on board the Annabel now. Mr Thomas brought some sensitive material to our attention. His suspicions about the “Grey men” and how they have been stamping down on those who follow “the Winged man” are true. To make matters worse, this explains Danny's actions on Astral. We have found evidence to point us to believe he is the offspring of Sir Bleakly, minister of the Inter-dimensional library for the study of similar worlds. He is the man that first commissioned this expedition.
After long and strenuous discussions with both the Captain and Mr Thomas, the decision has been made not to take action just as of yet. We still have not the entire picture cemented in our minds. We will carry on with the Co-ordinates given to us but we will be careful and mindful of what is truly happening. I have sent Mr Ironforn onto the I.D.B to purchase some objects and supplies, the captain and I have a new project for him.
Captain Charles Todd
April 18th
So this is what we know so far:
1. Sir Bleakly Commissioned this expedition with Mr Thomas as the cartographer to explore the uncharted dimensions.
2. He also sent his son “Danny Racket” on board as a spy, disguised as a sooty, coal boy. The reason for this I cannie even guess. Wee hallion!
3. Of the worlds we have been to so far, we have crossed paths with both supporters of a so called “Winged man” and those known as the “Grey Men.” Again I'm not quite sure what it’s all about, but I know its connected.
4. Mr Thomas has been researching into the symbols he has found on each world. Symbols he refers to as Enocian. A language of a higher power or being. Load of old nonsense if you ask me, but sure, I'm just a bloody airship captain!
5. We will continue to carry out commissions for Sir Bleakly until we discover the true meaning of what is happening. We will continue there before sending any new information back to the headquarters. This gives us more time to try and understand more. Mr Thomas will continue into his research, Mr Ironforn will make more improvements to the ship, under my guidance of course, and we will continue our search for young Danny Racket. I can’t wait to get my hands on him! Well on his throat any way…
Bill Ironforn
April 20th
Today I went ashore. The I.D.B is a huge place, with everything you would ever need, if you know where to look. I made my way with another lad to the tavern first. The canteen here is a wonderful place. Full of the most interesting, dangerous, wanted, enlightened, talented, skilled and awful people from the many known dimensions. I have been send here with nothing but a sketch from Mr Thomas and the lieutenant. I am to design a hull Siegel for the bow of Annabel. The design is two grey cogs with a bronze boat in the middle. I am told that this is the design of the Grey men, that Mr Thomas saw in Sir Blakely’s office.
I stayed for a few short glasses. The information and names of those able to create such a thing was easy enough to come by. I left with the name of iron workers, salvage yards and artists.
Once I acquired what was needed and the work had begun on the hull design I made my way to the commercial district of the station. Here you can find all sorts of surplice and “reacquired” goods. Mostly stolen or pawned. I had been sent by the captain to buy weapons for every man on board. He wanted untraceable weapons. We were an exploratory vessel, not a combat or battle ship. Our permits did not allow the carrying of weapons. After the great war it was decided that to possess a firearm was an offence. All weapons were coded and marked with serial numbers. All ammunition also was registered and catalogued. However, when speaking to the right people in the I.D.B you could get anything. I managed to get five unregistered rifles, two hand cannons, six pistols and 1tn of ammo. I know the Captain does not want to have this on board but from what I have been told, our mission may require it. I thought my fighting days were over, but it appears not.
I returned to the Annabel with the firearms and ammunition but will need to return with the Grey men design when most ships have left port and there is not much activity on the deck. This needs to be kept quiet and cannot be fitted here. I will attempt to fit it to the bow once we pass through the rift.
George Thomas.
April 26th
We left port early this morning. Our Rift journey was calm, for the most part. A few bumps and a little drop at one point, but nothing to be worried about. We seem to have inaccurate co-ordinates upon our arrival. The overview and initial scan during our rift passage was showing signs of life near our entry port. Large signs of life at that. When we arrived however, there is nothing but sea. As far as we can see. The captain is blaming Mr Ironforn for disrupting the scanners while he fitted the new design to the ship’s hull. It is rather convincing, seeing as I have never seen a ship belonging to the grey men I am unsure as to how authentic it really looks, but I do believe it is passable. They argued for a while but after we mad ship alterations and initiated the decent to become sea faring the scans were picking up even more signs. I make no apology or excuse for my upbringing. I also have never tried to hide the fact that it has been a privileged one. In Cogburn I attended a boarding school of high repute, and there, played sports and learnt the old custom of swimming. An act no longer needed at home, as the ocean dried up long ago. It became useful today however as I volunteer to fit a makeshift periscope to the base of the ship.
I dismiss the voices and cheers of praise as I emerged to the surface but I secretly enjoyed and revelled in the recognition. Considered a valuable member of the crew was my goal and I feel I have succeeded in entering into this brotherhood. Now the scanning will begin as we agree to look vertically instead of onto the horizons.
Bill Ironforn.
April 28th
So the hull design was easy enough to fit. It took a little bit of heating to bend it round but it slotted into the rivets without issue. It is very convincing and a great looking design, if I do say so myself. The captain gave me a bit of a hard time when he thought the scanners had been disrupted, but he has since apologised after Mr Thomas fitted the Viewing mirrors. We began viewing down below us early this afternoon and by late evening we began to notice lights from the depths. It is clear to us that there is life below the water’s surface. About a mile down that is. Too far for anyone to swim. The pressure alone would kill them.
Time for Annabel to shine once more. The beautiful versatile woman can cope and deal with any situation thrown at her, unlike my ex-wife!
I constructed a long pipe with the deflated balloon at the end. This will give us buoyancy when we wish to ascend, I also have moved all supplies to the cabins and living quarters. This means I can flood the hold to give us the weight we need to drop down. A
nnabel is built to withstand pressure of high altitudes, so having a totally sealed shell creates an air pressure that will work under water, the same as it would high in the sky. We will begin our decent shortly. I must return to the bridge.
George Thomas.
April 30th
The signal was given by the captain to dive. This is a new set of challenges for us all, especially the experienced crew. Annabel will be, in fact, sinking. A controlled drop, but still, sinking. We have been dropping to different depths and inflating the buoyancy aid balloon, doing several tests, making sure the pressure is strong enough in the cargo hold to blow the flooded water out to give us enough buoyancy when needed. This may take a while, I will return to the bridge when the three whistles are sounded and our final descent behind.
We are now slowly dropping. Captain Todd is very nervous, I can tell, we all can. I would say he is a fish out of water, but I believe that would be a poor choice in words. Our scanners picked up a large concentration of movement below and with the use of the periscope on the underside we are directing our way towards a large collection of lights. I may not have time to update until after we have found somewhere to dock, if we can.
