The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Details and a record of the characters exploits, successes and failures within the Parallel Worlds.

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Tue Apr 01, 2014 9:23 pm

The Tenoen Hills, British Oenotria, The Crown Colony of Mars
The area was known as the Dire Slopes shunned by Canal and Hill Martians alike, something about them inspired fear.

Hidden within the narrow clefts of the hillside, were hidden caves leading into winding tunnels, from the bowels of these inner sanctums rose a moaning chant.
A hunched aged figure stood within a narrow sanctum, a bare sandstone chamber with little room other than with which to stand, the chamber was brightly lit by the Martian sun streaming through a narrow man sized fissure in the stone.
Despite the rising heat, the figure was enshrouded in a thick cloak concealing his martian heritage, his features so heavily lined as to almost appeared scaled, his face a perpetual scowl showing his utter contempt and hatred of the canal Martians far below.

Captain Brian Murdo of the Blackwatch pushed the sense of fear down, the locals hated this place and being a man unaccustomed to nervousness or such cowardly feelings such as terror found himself perplexed.
“Ahem” he cleared his throat upon entering the chamber, the figure did not turn, Murdo snorted and verbally marched on “Are your…” he found himself searching for the right word “people ready”
The figure responded with a sharp draw of breath, producing a rasping sound
“Is that a yes?” Murdo replied in his brusque Irish brogue
“The followers of the Worm are ever ready human”
“Be that as it may me old son, are they ready for tomorrow night?”
“Yes” the Martian snarled contempt dripping from the word
Murdo stepped up close to the high priest “Just remember the Colonel doesn’t rightly like failing, an he’ll tear your little temple apart if you let him down or cross him”
The Martian didn’t respond, Murdo loomed over him “Are we clear Martian” he snarled in the priests large pointed ear
“Yes” came the reluctant reply

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Wed May 07, 2014 8:54 pm

Etheria II 1889 – Etheric Space
The gathered travellers stood looking beyond the study door out into the depths of space.
Each looked with a mix of fear and fascination, the void was surprisingly illuminated, stars, moons and nebulae cast celestial colours across the heavens.

Lord Reynolds shook the amazement from his head, walked across the small neat room and took his seat at the ornate desk, his face perplexed.
Annette slowly turned her mouth agape, then spluttered “How, how, how are we floating in space in a room”
“A study, technically it’s a gentleman’s study” replied Reynolds thoughtfully
“Yeah Annette everyone knows that” chided Raz
“Anyway” she snorted in retort
“We’re not really in space, this is a program, a facsimile, written to look like space” his Lordship replied
Their newly acquainted zombie Professor Spengler frowned and looked back at the void, Annette seemed to momentarily relax only for a look at panic to once again cross her face.
“So where is my body, not down with those giant bugs” she almost shrieked

Raz by this stage had cocked his head “Sssshh”
Tiley meanwhile reached out grasping the door handle and shut etheric space out.
“Don’t you ssshh me” Annette tuned on Raz however upon seeing him she quieted “Oh, sorry”
“I beg your pardon your eminence” started Raz, Reynolds cocked an annoyed eyebrow in response
“I don’t think this is a program, everything sounds real, I can hear the etheric currents and our songs are real”
“That doesn’t make sense” replied Reynolds “It bears all the makings of a scope domain”
Raz had by this time made his way over the desk and bent closer “Its song is deteriorating, fading”
Reynolds exchanged a worried look with the elf, who for a change looked quite serious “There’s something else”
“There are hollow spots in our songs and slowly their getting larger”
“This is what La Bruja warned us about” replied Reynolds, “So time is very much of the essence”

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Wed May 21, 2014 8:38 pm

The Approach to Mars – Etheric Space 1889
The enemy spaceship had taken a circuitous route attempting to shake any pursuit, its flight had cycled in a wide arc east of the red planet and into the asteroid belt to the planets north.

The ship before them was like nothing on Earth or in space that they’d ever seen, shaped like an arrow head, covered in armour plating and sprouting a rocket as its means of propulsion.
“What are hoping to achieve if we catch this craft up?” asked Henry Carstairs from his cramped control console
The pilot positioned in the equally cramped nose of the HMRMS The Hornet shook his head
“For the hundredth time Henry we are not attempting to catch it, merely keep an eye on where it goes” replied Gladstone Spindle-Weaver, who abruptly spun the Her Majesty’s Royal Mail flyer to avoid a tumbling house sized rock.

The small two man ether flyer was all engine and hold, equipped with a twin Watt Steam Turbine powered by the Solar furnace, its manoeuvrability came from small etheric sails allowing the flyer to be trimmed like a boat.
The arrow shaped Rocket ship weaved through the outskirts of the asteroid slightly encumbered by the ragged remains of the Heleos station dragged behind it, The Hornet slowly negotiated the asteroids while trying to remain hidden.
For some 20 minutes they played cat and mouse until the two ether pilots spotted the murderous vessels destination, floating within a large space between the celestial rocks was a huge armour plated ether ship, wearing the Queens colours.

The arrow ship steered into the space and manoeuvred into the larger vessel, Gladstone edged their ship forwards along the mountainous side of an asteroid, as they cleared the side Carstairs reacted too late as a line of tracer rounds streamed at them from a turret clamped to another rock.
Bullets clattered off the Hornet’s hull, several ominous cracks appeared upon their glass cockpit as both pilots frenetically worked the controls quickly turning her around, steam and lubricant escaped from small hull ruptures.

Gladstone swung the flyer around, a shower stone pinging the hull as he darted the ship back behind an asteroid, a turret on the Ether ship turned, a great engine box rotated by steam pistons and huge mechanics, the turret housed a large stubby barrel which glowed as elemental energies built up below decks.
The asteroid sheltering the Hornet shuddered as a beam of pure white fire slammed into its surface, the intense heat seeped into fissures and cracks, expanding the stone, within seconds the hill sized rock ruptured sending boulders smashing through the field.
Carstairs furiously cranking every valve and control he could to release the twin steam turbines pressure, the ether propellers screamed into the silence of the void, Gladstone weaved between narrowly spaced asteroids fleeing the avalanche of stone.

The immense stones closed in around them, pushed by the cascade at their rear, the Ether ship was blasting the stone before it with its heat beam, clearing a path and incidentally pushing further colossus towards the little flyer.
“WE’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT” shouted Gladstone
Carstairs looked around desperately, the air in the flyer was growing thin, oxygen stores seals broken by the battering suffered by the ship, taking a deep breath he depressed a number of levers releasing the entirety of their Lunar crystals into the boiler.
The flyer lurched as the combustion chamber was flooded with dissolving lunar water, the solar furnace drawing in the fragments of sunlight flickering between the encroaching asteroids, the chambers crown threatening to blow due to the pressure surging past safe levels.
“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND” screamed Gladstone
“JUST FLY” bellowed Carstairs back, Spindle-Weaver manically pulled the propulsion levers back and forth dodging bounder after boulder, each threatening to squash the ship or at the very least shatter its cockpit, finally looping under a final floating mountain the flyer was free of the field.
The screw dug into thicker ether and they surged ahead into open space, however travelling a few short etheric knots and the flyer puttered to a halt.
Gladstone turned and gave his co flyer a raised twitchy eyebrow “At least we’re alive” came the reply
“Did you recognise that ship” Carstairs asked
“Yes” replied Spindle-Weaver solemnly “The missing long range exploration vessel HMS Dauntless, we have to get word back to The Hammer and McMasters”
“Easier said than done old man, don’t want to be a naysayer but no power and we’re running low on air” Spindle-Weaver merely nodded silently in response

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Fri May 23, 2014 9:30 am

The Asteroid Field, The HMS Dauntless – Etheric Space 1889
The Dauntless’s hold was flooded with steam, the arrow ships hatch swung open and a stocky figure on the taller side strode out, his awaiting soldiers saluted sharply, without pause he stepped over the bulkhead threshold, marching through the ships corridors until he reached the bridge.

Casting his gaze around the soldiers manning the various brass consoles he noted all had changed uniform from British red to forest green, he nodded, his second Major Joyns saluted once again.
“We have an interloper sir” Joyns reported
The commander looked out of the massive forward porthole, within the jumble of titanic rocks a small ether flyer skirted around a floating mountain, as it did so it came under fire from a gun turret on another rock “Destroy it” he ordered
For several minutes speech was nigh on impossible as the deafening sound of moving machinery blanketed the bridge, followed by a blinding light as a beam lanced out striking the asteroid concealing the smaller vessel.

The assembled people on the bridge covered their eyes until the asteroid now glowing red hot exploded, a tall man in a Prussian Cavalry greatcoat spoke first “How did an ether flyer get in here away from the solar rays?” he rasped in a thick Bavarian accent

“Probably using build up steam in its boiler Mr Roffmidt” replied Joyn
“A significant gamble” replied the gaunt Roffmidt
“One that has cost them their lives” remarked an aged bespectacled man with a cultured English accent
“The assault has commenced” interjected the commander addressing Joyn
“Yes sir on schedule”
“Then we get underway” he stated
“Colonel your British adversaries won’t know what hit them with my little or not so little creations” chuckled the old man
“Let us hope so Professor” The Colonel didn’t hide is apparent distain for his guests
The Dauntless creaked as the helmsman swung her about, smaller asteroids clattering off her armoured hull, the roar started again as the gunners used the heat beam to clear a path through the asteroid field.
***

Fort Wellington - British Oenotria, The Crown Colony of Mars

Private Ernie Riff of the British Expeditionary Force squinted into the Martian sun, the evening twilight cast its customary red, he lowered his goggles as the red sand picked up in the shape of a storm.
Such things were fairly common on the Martian plains, blowing up without warning, his fellow sentries followed suit pulling up their face scarfs
The source of the storm however became immediately apparent, a large shape pushing through the storm front, the soldiers impudently shouted warnings and explanations of surprise as a Martian sky galleons bow breached the roiling red cloud and ploughed headlong into the fortress wall.

Captain Myles Walden was physically thrown from his office chair, his back hitting the wall with a thud and the breath knocked from him by his desk being blown into the wall.
Groaning from cuts to his face, blood covering his right eye and stabbing pain from his waist he looked out of the remnants of his office window, the courtyard of the fort was decimated as was the gate wall, the wreckage of a sky ship strewn across the ground.
His brain clicked to combat, the ship had clearly been carrying a bomb, a large one to destroy the solid stone wall, using his handkerchief to clear his eye of blood he drew his revolver.

His instincts were uncannily on the mark as his surviving infantry grouped and began firing into the diminishing sand storm, clocking figures running through the cloud he stepped out through his office wall took aim and fired.
Whistles blew, Sergeant Major Murdock bellowed orders as Gatling gun gurneys were quickly wheeled into position and the clatter of their fire began, soldiers formed lines and Murdock’s booming “AIM – FIRE!” sounded above the din.

He turned to see the new Land Walkers start up, their stokers funnelling coal into their boilers the giant mechanical men standing up straight, as power started to circulate to their pistons and pulleys they began to stride forwards.
Walden picked off two of the attacking figures as they charged the gate, he was not surprised that their assailants were Martians, of the Hill variety by the look of them ‘Hairy Savages’ he thought, then looked to the sky following another sound to enter the battle.

Two more Sky Galleons swooped in, disgorging figures from their decks, figures that descended tens of feet without accessory and landing unharmed.
“What in god’s name” he seethed “WHERES THE BLOODY AIRCORP” he bellowed, answered by the whistle of steam engines as Royal Navy gunboats raced across the sky, cannons and Nordfeld machine guns raking the Martian galleons.
“About time” he hissed, screaming behind him drew his attention “What now” he looked around the side of his office and Walden’s eyes widened the Land Walkers had been stopped in their tracks, their crews dragged from them and beaten to death.
Walden stood frozen his mouth agape the attackers resembled men, only bigger and misshapen, as if they’d grown and burst within their own skins, they roared in primal fury while tearing his soldiers limb from limb, then they charged.

From the front the descending figures having landed set to the British troops, these proved to also be human but again misshapen, their legs half as long again to be normal, their features feral and distended , low brows and long chins, they leapt inhuman heights and distances before tearing into Murdock’s line.

“This is madness” breathed Walden in horror

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Wed May 28, 2014 10:28 pm

The Shellyville Township, La Brujah Gorda, New Mexico 1876
The Silver Star saloon shuddered as the door from the trans-dimensional study swung open and Lord Reynolds led the erstwhile group back into the Weird West.

La Bruja sat on a long bench against the wall smoking her customary cigar and smiled, Reynolds smiled in return “How long have we been away”
“Oh about a day” she replied, Reynolds nodded “Not too long them”
Raz frowned something didn’t feel right, he turned as the saloon seemed to grow hazy, the others seemed to be oblivious, when it had settled the bum note having worked its way out, everything seemed more sombre the towns song almost sad.

Reynolds turned back to La Bruja only to find her gone, vanished as if into thin air, the stub of her cigar ground into the table top “What’s going on?”
Sheriff Derp swung himself into the saloon using his overly long arms “Sheriff what’s happened!” asked Raz, who out of the corner of his eye he had spotted the barman wore a black band around his arm.

Derp nodded his head which very deliberately doffed his hat “The towns in mournin Mr Raz, La Bruja travelled out on the road last night” he looked at the floor “We found her remains this morning”
“Impossible” scoffed Reynold’s “She was just here”
“Can’t have been sir, no mistaking what wuz left”
“Bloody hell” swore Tiley who removed his hat in respect
“Hmmm yes quite” added Reynolds

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Re: The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusil

Post by arcanus » Thu Jun 05, 2014 2:36 pm

The Shellyville Church, La Brujah Gorda, New Mexico 1876
Lord Sebastian Reynolds sat at the desk within his half of the Church basement, examining Nate Fosters journal.
The book detailed Fosters experience at Fort Coyote and the cryptographers worries that a darkness was spreading, after a while Reynolds detected a pattern on odd pages of a series of dots, none in the same place but nether the less a series of dots.

'Some form of code' he thought, his attention was drawn for about the fiftieth time that evening by the musical performance in Raz's half, bright lights swam in swirling patterns as the Chorister sang his magic, the target of his symphony the purloined rug from the Savannah hotel.
Small pieces of Spirit Glass glowed as the light notes swirled around, some beginning to loss their lustre.
'Good job they'd had the foresight to close the trap door' his attention returned to the tattered book.

Two things occurred to Reynold's, the first was that he needed to work out what this code was, the second was that they hadn't found Fosters proper coffin, his burial place actually swapped and occupied by the not so dead Professor Spengler.
The discovery of the professor and the impending darkness had stopped their exhumation, they would have to correct that once they'd sorted the whole La Bruja debacle out.

Taking another sip of scotch Reynolds mentally cursed this Worldline and everybody who lived in it.

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Sun Jul 27, 2014 8:37 pm

The Shellyville Township, La Brujah Gorda, New Mexico 1876
Collectively they didn’t rise until late afternoon, it was safe to say Raz, Reynolds and Annette were exhausted, however as they shook the sleep from their heads each sensed something different.

Stepping out on the porch of the Church they saw tables set up in the main street, paper lanterns hung in banners between buildings, music drifted from both the Silver Star and the Savannah.
Despite the impending reckoning with the dark forces within Fort Coyote, the townsfolk were celebrating the return of their elder, La Bruja had been returned to them.

Raz sensed the towns song strengthening, the surrounding fear concentrated by the Maelstrom was pushed back, it was a concentration of hope, one that the townsfolk couldn’t maintain indefinitely but it would certainly give them a night off.

Each of the group allowed themselves a smile, before Reynolds straighten his waist coat and turned to his companions “Shall we?”
“Rude not to” replied Raz

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Mon Aug 25, 2014 5:11 pm

New York 1876
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Re: The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusil

Post by arcanus » Tue Sep 02, 2014 7:40 pm

The Shellyville Township, La Brujah Gorda, New Mexico 1876
As the group enjoyed the festivities it dawned upon them that the town was different, further establishments had appeared.

Additionally people seemed to have changed places or rather ailments, the mayor now exhibiting the rearrangement of his limbs that the sheriff had been afflicted with, the sheriff on the other hand having regained his mobility.

No one seemed to take this in or recognise any change, Raz noticed that the towns song seemed to have subtly changed, although in a way that he couldn't put his finger on.
This was quickly forgotten as Raz really got into the swing of things.

Reynolds, Annette and La Bruja watched in amusement.

***

The Following Morning
Nursing a sore head and feet from having participated in the early hours dancing Tiley hurled various heavy objects at the horrendously loud snorting and snoring of Raz'real Sephiroth.

He would have to talk to Reynolds, the sheriff earlier in the day had eluded to events around the town, murders in the outlying cottages and homesteads, supplies not arriving, strange shadows in the night, things had gone from strange to frightening.

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The Interdimensional Campaign of The Third Snowdon Fusiliers

Post by arcanus » Sat Sep 06, 2014 8:43 pm

Shellyville
Raz's eyes widened 'Where are you' he thought sent to Sebastian Reynolds
'I'm at the gates of the Fort' The Lord replied
'YOUR WHERE!' Raz mentally spluttered
'The Forts commander and I have had our disagreements, I'm going to talk them over with him'

Raz turned looking to the Silver Star Saloon as La Bruja stepped through the batwing swing doors puffing on a cigar, she looked at him quizzically
"Reynolds has gone to the Fort"
The Medicine Woman looked startled then suspiciously at the cigar tossing it into the dirt,
"You've got to get him out of there now" she shouted hobbling at a pace towards her house

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