The Chronicle

[arcanus]

The City of London - Westminster Palace - 1879
Bryan Talbot drew his woolen overcoat in tight to ward off the March chill, the great freeze persisted much to the doom prophesizing of the clergy, gods wrath for meddling with unholy forces.
To emphasise this point a wild eyed man stood beside a lamp-post opposite the Houses of Parliament on St Margaret street, his placade announcing 'The End is Nigh' in scrawled gothic font, meeting his gaze the man quickly looked away from Talbot to avoid his attention.

Reaching the entrance to both the public and press galleries at St Stephens Tower, the Parliamentary Guard checked peoples tickets, he showed his papers the guard giving him a disapproving look before letting him through, crossing the large atrium he took the flight of stairs to the right branching away from the public and headed to the Press Gallery.

He moved through the adjorning offices into the gallery overlooking the House of Commons floor, today was to be a grand debate a number of contentious Bills were being discussed or rather argued and both parties were in full attendance including Disraeli and The Iron Duke himself.
As was his custom Talbot had arrived very early to secure a seat at the balcony, a few other journalists had doen the same each giving him the same distrustful look he received each time, he was always unsure whether it was because he was a Snark or that he worked for an American Mogul owned paper The Globe or both.

It mattered not, Talbot was a noted reporter and writer, which was the only reason the London Globe editor Audra Halpine, had allowed him to remain freelance, odd considering she was a female Boojum in the male dominated world of newsper journalism, he would have thought she wold have a degree of empathy but the fairer changed were just as prejudiced as humans in his experience.
He'd even met Pulitzer one of the four News Moguls that now owned the powerful publication empires, to his credit Pulitzer was less interested in Talbots heavy set features and tusks than his nose for a good story, his time with the Boston Globe and his reporting on the gang wars had garnered him favourable attention.

The parliamentary debate in The Lords today was of great significance, the legal aknowledgement of British vassal state Royality as British Nobility, the mere suggestion had instigated months of furough from the aristocracy and upper classes, it had provoked furtehr calls for a Fifth Reform Act granting Women and excuded Boojums full suffrage and a host of other calls.
The origin of this notion had been Wellingtons Military Act of 1843 creating full British regiments from colonial brigades and eligability for loyal soliders and later sailors and their families for citizenship after twelve years service, promotion to the full regiment after six years.
During his first term as Prime Minister Wellesley had been bitterly opposed to Parliamentary Reform and suffered politically for it, having recognised the inevitable changes that The Mysrtial and Magic would bring to the field of battle and indeed society in the 1820s he changed his position and began to support the later Reform Acts in conjunction with his Military Acts.

The Empire was struggling in terms of manpower, it already held vast tracts of territory, was securing more in its pursuit of Places of Power and on the year of Queen Victorias ascension to the throne the first Lost World Etheria opened its doors, Wellington feared that the Emipire wouldn't be able to compete with less sophisticated but more populous empires such as The Russian Empire or the Prussians, whilst at the same time suppressing dissent within their colonial forces.
The later Reform Acts amended the first Acts ban on women voting by allowing certified professional women the right to work profesionally and vote, later amendments to the Military Act added Boojums and Lost World inhabitants to the roster albiet with considerable resistance and resentment.

The recognition of Etheria's upper class as members of scoiety and even the Aristocray had prompted the Mouri, Zulu and Basotho Kingdoms to sign treaties becoming allied vassal states of the Empire, its people becoming eligable for Regimental recognition whcih had inevitably led to the Kingdoms respective request to also be recognised as British Nobility.

The War Office now led by the current Head of the Armed Forces Prince George, Field Marshal Frederick Roberts and The Iron Duke, the latter now over 110 years old, his being one of the few surviving recipients of the Dragon Fish Elixir and subsequent Enlightened Rejuvenation treatments, despite his age Wellington looked to be in his early fifties.

Talbot watched as journalists of all the local and national rags filed in, grumbling about the early birds getting the best seats, his immediately neighbours fussing around the lack of room in the tightly packed seats whcih wasn't helped by his bulk, smiling he watched as the floor of the Lords fillled with the Government and Opposition.
He readied his notepad ignoring the endless clicking of the journalists wrist receivers as their offices began to cascade questions and prompts via morse code by way of the Scope, the tiny devices micro difference engines then translating into text on the smokey screens.

The Lords taking their seats, the newly Knighted Disraeli, now The Earl of Beaconsfield stood and the grand debate began.

[arcanus]

The Regency Coffee House - 17-19 Regency Street.
Despite the bone-chilling cold, the rain seemed to be keeping at bay, perhaps the one benefit to The Freeze, Talbot pulled his woolen jacket tight and buried his chin in his scarf.

It was a short walk from the Houses to The Regency Coffee House, the second oldest in the City behind the Jamaica Wine House and a damned sight closer, as he turned the corner into Regency Street he saw his his contact waiting for him, stomping his feet to keep himself warm.

Clarence Jemmy stood not an inch taller than three feet, his sinewy frame typical of a Gnome Boojum, like miniaturised eldren but without the looks.
His overcoat appeared to not being successful in shielding him from the chill, although gnomes weren't known for having a great deal of meat on their bones so no fat to keep them warm.

He spotted the Snark briskly strolling towards the Coffee House and nodded as Talbot gestured for him not to wait, with an effort he pulled the stout gold leaf glass door open and hurried in, Talbot caught the wooden frame before it closed and welcomed the heat from the establishments open fire and kitchens.

They took their usual seat on the higher chairs beside the main window looking out over the street, Talbot grinning as Jemmy climbed up onto the high chair to which he received a scowl.
As soon as they sat two large mugs of coffee appeared on their table, the owners daughter Versie smiling as the pair gratefully cupped their hands around the steaming vessels "Damn this cold, when will it end" Jemmy grumbled
"Think its here for a while yet" replied Talbot, the gnome snarled again, Talbot smiled he liked it here, one of the few places where his kind didn't get many dirty looks, charged more or asked to leave.

Clarence was an older gnome, little in the way of remaining hair apart from a wave sprouting from the top of his skull, a pair of half moon spectacles, not unusal for his race they all seemed to have poor eyesight and his face given an authoritarian frame by a white goatee beard,.
"So how was the Grand Debate" asked Clarence supping his coffee "Will the Iron Duke get his Bill Passed"
"It was the expected hammer and tongs" Talbot replied "And yes given Disraeli's current popularity, although Gladstone won't make it easy, I think everyone knows that Wellington will get his way, with more troops needed for the Gruv and Afghanistan I don't think they have much choice"
"But making the Zulus and Maori Kings British Nobles, that feels like a step too far"
Talbot laughed "Clarence theres a Dragon squatting in the West Tower of the Palace of Westminster and those Kings know that the Empire needs their troops"
"Well there is that, I suppose"
"How is the Library?" Talbot asked
"Yes, yes, very very busy, now that the Queen wants the Library to be the Great Archive, its all steam ahead"
"The Queen" Talbot said coyly
Jemmy frowned "Yes very well, the Guild wants as much of the Lost Library transcribed, referenced and securely archieved as possible"
"Afraid the original will vanish again"
"You jest but it was inaccessible or lost of thousands of years so why not"
Talbot nodded in agreement "So in your learned capacity as a Chief Libarian and man in the know, what can you tell me about The Scarlet Traces" he looked around conspiratorially to emphasise his point
"And why on Earth would I know anything about such scuriless and unsavoury topics" Jemmy replied
"Because you aren't just a Chief Librarian but someone who finds out an awful lot of things and hears much more"
Jemmy signed but betrayed himself with a faint smile, he leant in closer waiting for Versi to finish putting their plates of stew and bread down.
"Bein all conspirin again" she chided them as she walked away, both frowned in mock offence

"So the Scarlet Traces are persons or more commonly groups of professional criminals, the name comes from the Scarlet Pimpernel and the fact that they try and leave no trace of thier activities, a code of secrecy if you will, rumour has it the Dreadfuls first tried to call them Dodgers but no one wanted to be named after a thieving child."
"So what makes them different than common criminals" replied Talbot as he scooped a large spoonful of stew "Ahh this is right welcome"
"Well technically nothing and many are little more than common criminals or certainly start off as them, its more a moniker that the Dreadfuls have given them and the fact that they don't always come from the traditional lower class backgrounds"
"So there are Middle and Upper Class Traces"
"If the rumours and conjecture are true, yes"
"So why don't we see more stories or talk about them, the only thing I see reported is about common criminals, only the Dreadfuls seem to mention them"
Jemmy smiled and sat back in his chair, raising his hand to get Versi's attention for a refill.
"Don't you hold out on me" Talbot narrowed his eyes
"And why do you want to know" Clarence challenged
"I might want to meet one of them"
"And why on earth would you want to do something like that, these people are still criminals, murderers, thieves and far worse, there's talk of Witches and full blown mage amongst them"
"Well thats even more reason to try and meet one, but you didn't answer my question why are they a secret" Talbot whispered after leaning close to the table
Jemmy pursed his lips "Because the main difference between the Scarlet Traces and your average footpad is they are employed by the great and the good, its in all parties interests to maintain a code of secrecy and deniability"
Talbot sat back smiling "That wasn't so hard was it"

Versi arrived with a pot of coffee and refilled their mugs, once again waiting until she had moved off to another table Jemmy continued
"Be careful Bryan, there's a reason why I stay far away from that world, it'll get you killed"