Atlantic Ocean
Albion Airship Titania
October, 1886
36 years post Shattering
9 years post Civil War
“Well, this really is something,” I muttered, looking around in quiet awe as I walked the open top deck of the massive luxury airship. The Titania was a huge ship designed to hold lots of people for travel across the ocean, just not on the water itself. It could land in it, and even sail in it if push came to shove, but it was designed to fly through the sky itself.
I knew about airships of course, since they’d come into being a little bit before the war, and had seen extensive use during it. But I’d never been on one though, and certainly not one designed for enjoyment of traveling.
Of course, my life had been full of things I’d never done before, or thought I would ever do. Especially lately.
As I walked along the deck, alone for the first time in a while, I glanced back down at the slightly ornate badge on my chest. An eagle with open wings clutching a marshals star. Engraved on it was Union Expeditionary Marshal around the circle of the star. I still had no idea what the hell that even was, but then again, as it had been explained to me by General Grant, no one else really did either.
Considering this new Marshal Office had been created just a few days ago, in a hurry by government idiots no less, that didn’t surprise me much.
Thinking about it reminded me of everything else that had happened to me ever since I’d decided to start traveling East, rather than staying out West.
From battling Furwraiths in a Terminus Town and meeting the Indian Centaur Halona, to battling the Snatch-Worm creature in another town, to the massive battles I’d had since reaching New York City. From battling secret society lunatics on the stage of Carnegie Hall to the war against them in Central Park and on the torch arm of the Statue of Liberty in Madison Square Park, it had certainly been, exciting. Not to mention all the companions I’d made along the way.
From Halona, who loved drama, to the annoying traveling reporter Lillianne Lancaster who followed me around, writing up overblown stories about me in the papers. Not to mention the crazy cat beastkin woman known to one and all as Hell Cat Maggie, or her best friend Orna Rowan; a brilliant and beautiful inventor of Coppersmith devices.
Then there was my best friend from the Frontier; Wyatt Earp and his wife Sadie who came along with him. Wyatt got to share in this new, adventure, of being an Expeditionary Marshal with me, so at least I didn’t have to suffer alone. And of course, the mouse-folk and the recently transformed women now known as Raccoon Girls.
As I walked along, enjoying the view of the sky and the ocean from being out in the sky, I chuckled, realizing that a small army of us had been roped into this nonsense.
Such as our traveling Elvin lawyer, Franklin Gale and his entire family.
Or Lilly’s sister, who I still had not met. Considering she was one the responsible for all those blasted Dime Store Novels about me, I wasn’t too keen to meet her in person. Though I was going to have to sooner or later. With a sigh, I headed inside to the First Class Deck of the ship for guests, marveling at the sheer amount of ornate beauty on display, from the beautiful lamps and carpets floors, to the wood paneled walls.
It was certainly a beautiful ship, but I wasn’t sure if it could stand up to the ornate, even ostentatious displays of wealth and beauty of the Astoria Hotel.
Yet, anyway.
Though as I walked along the beautiful hallways, seeing the servants pushing carts of meals, with everything beautiful, tasteful, and of high quality with electric lights, I knew they were going to give it a run for its money.
Still, that comparison could come later. For now, while all the girls were busy in the rooms with the mouse-folk village, or exploring on their own, and Wyatt and Gale both setting up their own rooms with their families, I wanted to visit mine.
Pulling out the key that I had gotten when we boarded the ship, I hunted for the correct room number until I found it; room 102.
One of the large suites.
Unlocking the door and heading inside, I looked around in slight awe.
It was definitely a grand hotel suite, with several oak wood tables, red Persian carpets on the floor, alongside oak paneling and molding along the walls and ceiling . There was a small, gold framed chandelier in the middle of the room, a writing desk and chair, and a large looking closet, and a massive four poser bed in one corner. However, the biggest feature had to be the massive round windows, looking out unto the clouds and ocean.
From our current height flying through the sky, the view was just spectacular.
I took a minute to take it all in, looking around in stunned bemusement, before I noticed my few bags of luggage piled into the corner opposite the bed. Looking around again I saw a switch for the electric lights, but with so much daylight coming in from the windows, I didn’t really need it yet. Nodding to myself, I headed over to my bags and suitcases, and decided to quickly settle in, enjoying the quiet and being largely alone for the first time in a while.
I set about hauling one bag of luggage after the other onto the bed, opening them up and packing everything away into the appropriate place. Clothes for the closets and drawers, weapons for the desk, so on. The effort of packing and moving around the room helped get me more familiar with the room, which had its own couch and coffee table as well.
Finally, everything I had was put to rights, but the pile of luggage was only a third done, with the rest belonging to Maggie and Orna.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Shrugging, I sat down at the couch, wondering if it was worth it to call up room service for some ice water, when I felt the package in my long duster coat pocket slap against my leg. Reminded of the mysterious package I’d gotten just before I’d left New York, I reached over and pulled it out. It was the first time I’d been able to really stop and look at the thing, since I’d gotten it just before I’d been hoodwinked into becoming some kind of new brand of Marshal.
After that little stunt, we’d headed straight over to the ship and now here we were.
Looking at it, I saw that it was just a box in some simple wrapping paper, with my name and location at the time, but no return address.
I had no idea who it was from, but I’d met a lot of people over the last couple weeks, so with a shrug, I set out opening it.
Pulling the paper off revealed a tasteful wooden box with a little latch. On it was a small gold plated engraving that simply said; The true coin of adventure.
I raised an eyebrow at the oddly cryptic phrase, then set the box down on the table and unlatched it. Lifting the lid open, I stopped and stared in stunned shock.
It was a Bowie Knife.
On its own it was nothing unusual, but the problem was I recognized this knife; after all, it used to be mine.
Staring at it, I recalled the last time I’d seen it; falling down the massive, twisted mouth of the giant snatch-worm monster back in the town of Backers Acres. The thing had been dangling me over its mouth, ready to drop me down inside it, but between Lilly hitting it with a blast from her coppersmith pistol, and something else happing to it at the same time, it had dropped me. I had missed the mouth, barely, but my knife had fallen down inside it.
After that we’d set the dynamite and run, blowing that foul creature straight to hell.
However, my knife had never been found.
I shuddered as I recalled what else I’d seen deep inside that monsters gullet.
It wasn’t a dark hole that led to its stomach as one would expect. No, it had been something else entirely, something I still didn’t understand, or even want to really recall, though staring at the knife I felt my mind drifting back to that terrifying moment once again. The inside of the throat of that foul creature had been lined with several red eyes, all whirling around to stare at me.
And deep down the throat, where the stomach would be, was instead a dark space that had been lit up by a strange, swirling field of stars. The kind seen on the clearest and darkest nights of the season. They glowed a strange orange color, but beyond that I’d the presence of other beings, like the feeling in a dark forest when an unseen predator is nearby.
Even though you can’t see it, you can feel it.
And I’d felt several predators inside that swirling vortex of stars. Worse, I’d felt them all turning to look at me, and somehow, I’d felt them all smile. It had been just for a moment, but I’d felt it.
After that, I’d worked very hard to not think about it.
But now, looking at my old knife that had fallen down into their domain, I recalled it all in perfect detail, and it was like I could feel them all over again, looking at me and smiling. I shuddered as I looked away, and then noticed a note in the wrapping paper.
Pulling it out I opened it up and started reading.
Dear Mr. Ranger,
A pleasure to have made your acquaintance, however briefly.
Such a pity that our original meeting was cut short. Perhaps another time we will have the time to really get to know one another.
Ever since that brief meeting, I have been following your career with great interest and enthusiasm. Seldom have I had such fun being merely a spectator.
Enclosed you will find your old friend, which you so kindly delivered to me and some of my brethren. As a growing fan of your career, I thought it fitting to see it returned to you.
Wonderful work dealing with that little arrogant upstart Xantrogis and his pathetic minions. It was such fun watching all his efforts crumble to dust at the last moments. He’s still howling about it, and his cries are such sweet nectar to my ears.
I’m looking forward to spectating more of your encounters and endeavors.
Perhaps soon we will be able to meet one another in a more appropriate setting.
Both I and my current partner Hastur have taken an interest in you, and we’ve not been disappointed. Thank you for all the entertainment you have provided.
We look forward to so much more!
Sincerely,
A delighted fan
The Faceless Pharaoh
I stared for a moment, stunned, before I recalled with a start some of the mad inscriptions on the wall of the vault next to the snatch-worm. Scribbled there by the lunatics in robes who’d accidentally summoned that foul thing, and then promptly lost control of it.
Something about a place called Carcosa, a king in yellow, and the Faceless Pharaoh.
“What the hell?” I muttered, dazed and more than a little off put at the whole situation.
Glancing back to the knife, I put the strange note down and picked it up. It was my knife alright, and it still fit my had like a glove. I’d since replaced it, but I still had room for it on my belt. Under it inside the box was a new sheath for it, and it looked like good leather, with some odd markings on it.
Stuff I didn’t recognize.
Frankly they looked almost like Egyptian Hieroglyphs that I’d seen in a book in school, only stranger.
Glancing back to my knife, I noticed what looked like tiny engravings on the metal as well, so small and fine that only their catching on the light from the window revealed them to me.
Again, they were strange picture looking runes or hieroglyphs that I still couldn’t understand.
Shaking my head, I put the knife inside its sheath, stood up and belted it onto my main weapons belt, alongside my other Bowie knife and pistol.
I didn’t know what was going on, and frankly I didn’t want to know. But I wasn’t going to turn down getting my knife back. Maybe I could find a professor on this ship to translate what the hell these words even said. I had a feeling it would be interesting, and probably bizarre if nothing else.
Figuring out what the hell was going on was probably for the best, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon, I reckoned. I folded up the note, put it inside the box, and put the box away on the little desk next to the bed. Something to worry about later. I decided firmly, trying to put al the twisted memories back out of my mind.
At that moment there was a knock at the door, clear and sharp that made me jump.
Chuckling at myself, I sighed in exasperation as I walked over to the door and opened it, wondering who it was. What I saw helped drive all thoughts of that foul monster and cryptic letter from my mind.
Princess Elisabeth Hesse, or “Ella” as she preferred to be called, one of the many granddaughters of Queen Victoria herself, was standing right in front of me.
She was a short, slim, beautiful young woman with short, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, soft pale skin, and delicate features. All of it with a dancers body and grace contained in a beautiful, though sensible dark red dress. With the flower patterned corset of her dress, the slight swell of her modest chest was revealed just enough to try and draw the eye, as did the simple necklace she wore with a small ruby at the center of it.
In short, she as a very beautiful and eye catching woman with soft features and a kind smile on her face.
“Hello,” she said, smiling at me, and looking both amused and flattered at the look on my face. “Would you care to join me for a walk?”
Suddenly, I felt like I was already in some kind of trouble.
Again.