by C. Mahood
George Thomas
February 4th
Last night was a pleasant evening, I enjoyed my first taste of the tobacco I purchased before my departure. I even shared a rolled cigarette with Lieutenant Hartley. He seemed rather interested in my work. Which is odd. I was warned before I left my office by Sir Bleakly, that pilots, airship men and the crew would see me as nothing more than an annoyance and inconvenience. This much has been true to a degree, but as of late I am beginning to feel part of the crew. Most of them treat me with a mild dis regard, but Mr Biggs still doffs his cap at me when we pass. Once you have been involved in an altercation with another man, you truly know where each other stands, a respect is formed then. I feel we have that now. I shall endeavour to speak with him when next we meet.
George Thomas
February 5th
After a few hours gliding from the top of the peninsula of, what I have named “Cold Peak” we came in sight, for the first time, of the columns of water, the crewmen referred to it as smoke, it looked as though there was a fire in the distance but when we approached we could clearly see it was not the case at all.
three columns now were viable, they were not directly vertical as I had previously thought, they were bending and waving in the direction of the wind. It was as though the tops of the vertical shafts reached the very clouds themselves. We ascended higher into the cloud line to try and get a clear line of sight to the beginning of the falls. Once we broke the cloud cover the most magnificent sight was to behold.
What seemed at first like a stream on a hill was much more, through the clouds we at times only saw falling water from cloud through cloud. Like crying pillows, the water fell. Turning to vapour on its way. Rising higher we could see the crest of the mound. Many, many little streams converged to join a larger river, flowing to meet the great one that then tipped of the lip of this mound. The size of it was like nothing I could even imagine let alone seen before. Truly magical to be sure.
From out viewing platform on the Annabel many of us wanted to get a closer look. We wanted to put our feet and boots on solid ground. The whole scene was extremely beautiful; the little river banks and large rocks perturbing from the rushing rapid were dotted over the river like little islands of tranquillity, in the frantic water race. No one can imagine the beauty of the view. Comparing it to anything in Cogburn is impossible, even the surrounding shires, although beautiful in their own way, cannot even dent the scale, size and magnificence of this scene.
It had never been seen before, a waterfall on this scale. Larger than most towns and higher than any building on our home world. I kept getting the sensation that angels created this place by chance, a visual and natural spectacle, depicting the pureness and cleanliness of their souls.
There were mountains in the background. The falls are split into five sides by large rocks. They have small plants on team and an abundance of birds, also which I have never seen the like. They remind me of hybrids between country herons and puffin gulls from the white cliffs of the southern coats. They fly with ease but can clamber over the jagged edges with curved, webbed talons.
We made our decent down river from the falls. There was enough of a clearing between the trees, to drop the Annabel to enough height to lower the ladders. To my amazement, as we walked towards the base of the falls, there was no water. No pool, no river, no stream. Noting. Looking up, and observing the cloud overhead, I noticed that the entire column of water was evaporating before it reached the ground. There was a large cloud overhead that floated only a few hundred feet above our heads. Such an amazing sight to behold. Unfortunately, I could not sketch the scene as there was a thick mist in the air, we were under a waterfall after all. We returned to the Annabel and ascended above the clouds once more, our journey was to take us south. I wanted to follow the streams closer to the main lands as I drew the landscapes to the best of my ability. Hopefully we will find some forms of life here.
Captain Charles Todd
February 5th
Today we came across a great wonder! The Waterfall on the “Cold Peak Peninsula.” At least that's what Mr Thomas has declared it is called. Such an amazing sight to behold. I almost shed a wee tear. I obviously did not let the other men see as I have a reputation to uphold. Hard as nails captain Todd, break yer neck as soon as look at ye! I tell ye, give those boys an inch, they would take a bloody mile! Good for nothing whipper-snappers.
Lieutenant Steven Hartley.
February 5th
The Captain Cried today. Never seen that before. Can’t blame him though. When you spend your life in military service of his majesty the king, the way he has, seen the battles he has, and done many of the things within the confines of a battleship. The simple pleasure of observing such a majestic waterfall could move things within your soul, things you long thought dead.
Danny Racket
February 6th
Today me and the other lads got to step foot of the boat for a while. Was nice to put my feet on solid ground, stretch my back. I can feel myself getting taller, all the crouching in the engine room and hanging down to the coal bags is taking its toll on my back. I can’t complain myself, because I have to give off when the other boys do. In fairness I do tend to give of a bit more when Captain Todd is in the bridge above me. I hope he sees something in me. I want to be up on the boat by the time this expedition is over.
George Thomas
February 8th
Our voyage has brought us down from the east side of the peninsula to the mainland and back again. I wanted to sweep the circumference before me moved on. The fine attention to detail is what keeps one focused. Too easily could I be distracted by grand views from the porthole of my chambers. I often stop for a moment just to observe for my own pleasure, but the majority of the time is spent finely tracing lines of the coastline below.
We moved from the tip of the north end of the peninsula and followed the cliffs south on the western side. A sort of lough appeared in front of us. The land curved inwards to reveal a large, sheltered cove. On the tip of the curve I noticed a tower. At first I thought it was a light house, but on closer inspection I discovered it to be a Tower. Ornate, detailed, tribal and ancient. It is most likely a religious symbol, a centre for worship. It was totally vertical, thick and round. The stonework was smooth like poured cement onto a cylinder standing higher than most buildings physically could. The top of it was roofed, like a pointed spiral tower from the lands off old, the castles I had studied in books from the Royal library during my education at university. The lands of old used to build stone castles as a form of defence but mostly as a show of power. They were intimidating, vulgar and designed to instil fear on any would-be attacker.
This building however was neither of these, It was reminiscent of a spiral tower but without any of the aggressive tones to it. As we circled it, I noticed that the top of the tower was like an arrow, pointing upwards towards the heavens. When we came round again on our second pass, slightly closer this time, something caught my eye, the excitement built in me, like the great adventurers that went before me. The source of my heightened heart rate was a simple inscribing on the northern side of the tower. At first I did not recognise it which made this even more outstanding. When I could see it clearer it was obvious to me what it was. A symbol I had seen during a theology lecture I observed in my youth. The symbol was written in Enocian. A dialect long extinct but believed by many to be the written language of the angels. Beings more powerful than ourselves, ones who were, supposedly, the only contact human kind had between God and themselves.
I let this sink in for a while before the second wave of exhilaration swept over me. Someone must have written this and built the tower. There is life on this planet! This crew, this ship, we will be the first to make contact with indigenous people of a land I have not named.
In hindsight, why should I name these lands? What right to do have? I did not create them, or even discover them. The place already has names and I aim to simply
learn what they are. I am a Cartographer not an artist, or visionary.
We shall travel with the water. I had wondered why we were drifting and descending towards it firstly, ON conversing with captain Todd I was informed that, unbeknownst to me, the Annabel was not just an airship but a sea faring boat too.
Captain Charles Todd
February 8th
Mr Thomas was very excited to see that there, tower. Kept going on about angel or gnocchi or some nonsense. I was happy enough to do a bit more flying, getting his bearings and whatnot, but he said to me about there being people here or something. Now I'm no expert in people, or ancient times or anything like that. Or even know what “Social anthropology” is! But Lieutenant Hartley seems to know a bit about it. He suggested we take Annabel down, drop her in the water, deflate the balloon and take the blimp framework apart. With a little ingenuity and hard work we could create a mast and use the balloon as sails. I must discuss this now with our engineer. He will either revel in the challenge like a good worker I know him to be. Or act like a little bitch. Either way, I'm the captain and this is an order.
Bill Ironforn, (Annabel’s Engineer and mechanic.)
February 9th
You will never believe what Captain Todd and Lieutenant Hartley are going to have me do! Today I was called into the captain's chambers, marvellous they are too, they even offered me a brandy and some tobacco for me pipe! They spread out, on the table there, charts and blue prints of the Annabel. God damn, she is a beautiful vessel! They had her plans lady out, spread eagle, for all to see. Very undignified. Anyway, the had drawn all over the original plans of the hull, balloon, propellers and had informed me of the modifications they wanted to make. We were to set her down in the water, sail inland to a cove and then I was to begin work. The plans are possible, sure why not. I believe some of the ideas were even run past Mr Thomas, the cartographer on board. He made some great suggestions about the rudders. In his opinion we could put them on axles and hinges, there for when we are airborne they could act as both propellers for forward thrust and speed but also brought low for lift when needed. The same way if they remain on the underside of the stern, we can use them as our propulsion while seaborne. Very cleaver indeed, for an office worker.
The Concussion Crystal will keep us afloat, along with using parts of the balloon as buoyancy aids. Turning the cannon to the stern also and converting them to a soft energy output could possibly keep us airborne even without the balloon. These Designs are great and I will get started right away!
George Thomas
February 10th
Some of the crew have come ashore with me. The small boarding party consists of myself, lieutenant Hartley, Quants Fredrick (The Armoury quartermaster,) Peter “Pete” Bronston and of course our friendly giant “Biggs.”
The rest of the crew are remaining on board under the orders of Captain Todd, they will be carrying out vital maintenance work to the Annabel. The plans that Captain Todd and Mr Hartley ran through with Mr Ironforn are very good. They even took my ideas on too. I had noticed such plans of several other ships, al be it smaller scout ships, on the I.D.B Docks. I am sure there is a way to get us up and running very soon. I have all the confidence in the world for this crew.
We travelled downstream from waterfall. The tower was still visible no matter how far we went. The land if greatly fertile. Totally untouched as far as I can see. There is not a dense population here. In fact, we have not seen a single lifeform, well, apart from the bubbles on the top of the stream from fish below and the songs of birds in the trees. Different but yet familiar bird calls. I could not place the sound to a particular breed but reminiscent of that of the Highland country back home. We made camp by the shore of what at first seemed like a southern sea but when the sun set on the horizon we could see land. My drawings were able to fill in the sight to inform us this was in fact a lough. The water was salty so it was still the northern sea. There was a slight tide that rose closer to us as the evening progressed. We are high enough to avoid getting our feet wet though.
We dined on salted beef, I left all of my china on board the Annabel but I made a pot of fine leaf, fragrance tea in a pot Biggs had on his back. The men shared a tipple from a rather large hip flask that Quants carried with him everywhere. Like true explorers we ate together on the ground, lit a fire in the centre for boiling water, told stories of past and present loves. The men seemed very interested again in hearing about the lady Judith that I met at the I.D.B. The tale of our conversation and walk seems to entertain them all to no end! I truly feel part of the crew now. I felt comfortable and safe as we drifted to sleep. Until the snores awoke me. I was startled from a dream, convinced I heard the rumblings of a great bear staling around our camp. The moon was hidden behind the clouds and the fire was nought but embers. I saw an object move past close by, a massive hulking mass of muscle and fat. I slit my rapier slowly from its sheath, aimed it towards the beast and prepared to lounge. I then heard a “Alrite gov” Come from the beast in a low husky voice, not quite a spoken word but not quite a whisper. An awful mixture of the two. It was Biggs, he continued to stumble past me and proceeded to urinate in the water down from us. This is a long way from the gentleman’s club I frequented after working hours in Cogburn. A FAR cry from there.
Lieutenant Steven Hartley
February 12th
Our expedition has been slow but enjoyable. Long periods on board the Annabel no longer bother me, but the feeling of dirt on your feet and grass rubbing by your ankles in incomparable. The journey has continued well. The tediousness of stopping every five or so minutes, in order for Mr Thomas to inspect and document yet another variation of plant has worn off. We, as a group, have found ourselves fascinated by the differences in vegetation and plant-life now. Mr Thomas is a fountain of knowledge. When he drops his etiquette and manners he is a very approachable man. I suppose it is down to years of high class living. They say everyone is a product of their surroundings. None truer that myself and Mr Thomas. We have been educated on the variations of roses, how each dimension’s climate and air density and moisture can alter the make-up of the flower. How this also affects the pollination process in many other flowers to create unnamed hybrids. The most fascinating however is the variations of fruit and edible plants. Citrus flavoured fruits much like an orange, only green. Sweet peppers, apples with a red flesh and yellow strawberries, growing on bushes of dark green thorns. It is truly amazing. The men enjoy sampling everything also. A true boost for morale.
We followed inland and continued down river until water was on either side of us. To the West, the bay of the ocean and to the east, the widened river. A cluster of buildings was ahead of us. We were on higher ground, we continued onwards but the ground stopped suddenly. The cliffs that lay ahead of us had a mighty fall. To make a guess I would say, a clear four hundred feet. It is claimable but only for the more experienced among us. We shall scout the area for paths down, without too far a deviation. From sight through my telescope I can see that the settlement is more of a casino. There are illuminated lights in bright colours that I have never seen the likes of. I look forward to visiting but am wary of what we may find.
George Thomas
February 13th
Today we descended a cliff face. Yet another marvellous achievement I can add to my repertory. The path was marked by the most masterful climber Mr Quants Fredrick. His skills took my breath from me. He glided from ledge to ledge, hammering pick points and threading through a support rope as he went. This made the climb for us easy. We simply followed his path and we could defend from large platform to platform with the easiest of manoeuvres. Often he had chosen directions that were even possible at time to slide on one’s backside. Not very dignified but exhilarating and adventurous. It took us a solid six hours to complete our decent but it felt, at the time, like mere minutes. I am sure I speak for the party when I say, our bodies felt the brunt of the decent when we reached the bottom. We made camp once more and many
of us fell asleep after I made a toast to our success. We left the guide ropes and marker flags on the cliff, presumably for our ascent later.
Tomorrow we will push forward into the settlement ahead.
Quants Fredrick
February 13th
What a climb, it has been years since I ascended the dark peaks. Oh to be back there once more. The snow, the ice, the air as clear as crystal. Such purity at the top of those mountains. Never have I felt closer to the Gods. Today was different. I marked an easy route. It took hours longer than it should, but we have beginners in our party and men of importance. Damned if I were to be the one responsible for their deaths. They all did well. They listened to my instructions and we made it safely to the ground.
Lieutenant Steven Hartley
February 14th today
On awakening we readied our equipment. Quants stayed with the camp. He wanted to find an easier route to ascend when we return. We made our way from the base of the cliffs to a main road. The road was paved with metal cladding, riveted at the sides like the base of an airship. The ground was slippery on our leather boots, the strangest and most nonsensical contraption I have seen. Why have roads difficult to travel on?