August 12th, 188x: Dead man Walking

Bump doesn't have any real inns, most places to stay (not that anyone ever wants to) are rooms over the seedy bars. The Sump Rat was the closest attempt in Bump, at a roadhouse. It was an abandoned pumping station before Debbie McMourning won the small, shedlike structure and worthless land around it, in a poker game. After that, some of the storage rooms, once it was determined they contained nothing of value, were rented out to traveller's (often finding themselves sleeping amongst the rotten crates that were never removed).



The main room, sitting at a card table, surrounded by pipes, Sump Debbie played solitaire. the hunchbacked old woman, slipping out a card from her sleeve when she was sure she wasn't looking.

"I saw that! ye cheated!" "I tain't done no such thin, mama McMourning ain't never raised a cheater!" "well whatya call this then?!" she grabbed her right wrist in her left, and shook, the old woman watched angrily as cards poured out of her sleeve. "I ain't never seen those before! get your groddy mitts off me!" Her argument against herself was interrupted when someone came in the creaky door. "'Ello Debbie" Patchwork nodded to the haggard old woman. Debbie let go of her wrist and nodded as Patchwork dropped a bag of coins on the table "E's in room 2, wait'll i'm out 'fore ye do anyfing! old woman likes of me, can't be hangin aroun' if there's a beaten, does no good for my health!" Patchwork waved her away "fine, fine, go get yerself drunk." As the old woman snatched the money and made out the door, Bowler stepped in, blocking her way "Key?"

"nao, nao key, what you think this is? a fancy 'otel?" the woman shoved past him to spend the money as Bowler looked at Patchwork and shrugged.

"c'mon, let's get on wit it." The man in the patchwork coat ground his stogie on the table, and pulled out his cudgel as they walked to one of the doors, this one had a crudely painted 'Too' on it. Bowler blinked, "Is this it?" Patchwork pointed at the door"What'd you think?" "ya knows I can't read." Patchwork rubbed his hand down his face and sighed "C'mon, get ready."

The two large men pressed themselves against the wall on either side of the door, Patchwork nodded to Bowler, who turned the knob.

The room was dark, after a moment, their eyes adjusted. it was small, and amazingly had a bed and table as opposed to the usual piles of broken gears and junk left from when it still operated as a pumphouse. The table was covered in schematics and maps, neiter men could really understand what they were looking at, but they were more concerned about something else
"ere, were is 'e?" Bowler looked around, nervously aa Patchwork waved him off "Not 'ere, but lookit this!" he pulled out a leather case, grunting with the effort, getting it onto the filthy bed and opened the lid. The two men looked at the assorted machine components, not understanding what any of them were, but understanding they could get a good price for them. "Look aroun' see if 'e's got anyfing else, money, gold, somethin, toss it all in that case an' we'll see what Sully'll take for the whole lot." Bowler nodded as the two men searched the room. Patchwork climbed under the bed, the only real storage space in here, and heard a crackle, and a thud "That you? what you find? all's under 'ere's dirt now." Patchwork crawle out from under the bed, and saw Bowler laing face down on the floor "what you doin' sleepin?" "He's been temporarily paralyzed sir, an electric shock, now, what exactly are you two in here for?" Patchwork turned and saw a tall gaunt man, in a long black coat. with a gasmask , and a window in his chest, displaying a heart that looked like it came from something else. He was adjusting knobs on one of the two large metal gauntlets he was wearing, the smell of formalyhide and other chemicals wafter in the air.

"ah, er, well..." Patchwork suddenly rushed Grendel, raising his cudgel over his head. Grendel managed to dodge the swing, and brough his hand up, as blue arcs leaped from it. He lightly touched Patchwork on the back of the head. The larger man's hair stood on end as the shock went through his body. As Patchwork slumped to the ground, Grendel detached he cables leading to the backpack containing the eel battery, and shrugged it off the bed "that was it's highest setting, I'm going to have to find a better way to power them when we're not in Babbage of near the Clokhaven plant." He nodded to the door, as one of his pengi's waddled in with a loud clanking. "make sure these two don't go far, I'll need test subjects for our work here, I need to talk to our landlady first."



Debbie staggered into the door of the Sump Rat, and flopped onto her chair, cradeling the bottle of rotgut to her. "I wunner if they 'ad enough sense to clean th' room when they was done." She took a swig of her rotgut and was about to get up, when she heard Grendel behind her "Miss McMourning, I had thought I asked not to be interrupted in my room."

The old woman shreiked and swung around, holding the rotgut like a bat, ignoring the rancid liquid pouring out the empty bottle. "Don' scare an old woman like that! what if'n me 'eart gave out?!" "Ma'am, I am a skilled surgeon, if your heart gave out, I would have you up again in no time, now, I had two visitors tonight, after their complication, I'e been convinced that I can not possibly continue my research, if I am renting a room here. security is rather lax."

The old woman looked at him ."you wanna leave then?"

"no, I am purchasing this pump house from you, it still has much of the eqipment, plus it's fairly isolated location from the rest of the town, will suit my needs after some renovation."

He plopped a large heavy bag in her hand as she just stared at him, confused. "This should be enough to cover the cost, now please. leave the perimiter or N0. 67A will have to escourt you out."

The pengi clanked over from wherever he'd been lurking, and taking the old hag's hand, lead her out the door as Grendel walked back to his room.

Bowler was lying on the bed, with enough tranquilizers in him to keep a rhino comatose,

Patchwork glared from where his head was connected t the aparatus the two were looking at earlier, his body lay on the floor.

"Thank you again for volunteering, I hadn't tested the cranal-translatrophier yet." the head groaned at him while the rubber tubes trailing from his neeck pumped serum through it , the device the head was connected to transferred through the bolts drilled into the skull, to a small typwriter "what is going on?" Grendel looked at the paper and nodded "good, good, I have agood feeling about this place."

August 11th, 188x: The natives are restless

In Bump, in a small dirty saloon, three dirty, unkempt men were sitting around a broken table, one of the legs snapped off and propped on a stack of bricks.

"You see the train came in? another out o' towner's 'ere" the one in the patched together coat managed to drink the questionable liquid in the glass, while still keeping his stogie puffing.

"ya, I'd seen i'm, mask, some window in 'is chest, had to be another from Babbage, why're they coming here so of'n now?" the scrawny redheaded one twitched as he spoke, and rubbed under his eyepatch.

"who cares? they're good pickin's, got me a fine watch from one last week." This one was a corpulant one, with a beat up bowler balanced on his head, a size too small, and a stained vest.

"naw naw, this one, I ain't touchin 'im, he was wierd, the thing in 'is chest, I could see 'is HEART! was all wierd lookin', like weren't from a man." One-eye took a swig of his swill and wiped a greasy hand over his mouth. "Bad feelin from 'im."

Patchwork puffed on his stogie "Man looked like another doctor, they have nice thin's, I don' care what 'is heart looks like, 'e can still bleed."

"'e 'ad some sorter, whatcha call 'em, 'tomo-tons, looked like a 'pider, didn't he?" Bowler asked thoughtfully "I seen 'im this morn, at stucky's, he' was sittin' there at one o' the tables drinkin' din't see no mask tough, 'is face looked bad, like he'd been dead."

One-Eye shuddered "they had them problems with zombies in Babbage, don't they? mebbe 'e's one o' them?"

Bowler smacked One-Eye on the back of the head "Don' be stoopid Chauncey, there ain't no such thin as zombies!"

the one called CHauncey rubbed the back of his head "No! it's true! I heared they had them walking corpses, a couple o' times now! he's gotta be one o' them!"

Patchwork puffed his stogie thoughtfully "corpse 'er not, ee's pretty well off lookin, just lookin at the fancy bird with 'im, you know where he's stayin'?"

Chauncey nodded and swallowed "The Sump Rat, Debbie's place, not sure what room, but you can count me out, I don' want to be messin' with walking dead."

Bowler laughed hard "Fine, then you don' get no share!"

Chauncey got up and shakily made his way out "I'm warnin you, that man ain't right"

"yeah, yeah, " bowler waved him off dismissively as Chauncy left, then leaned forward "So, what's th' plan?"

Patchwork puffed his stogie, before grounding it on the wooden table "The Sump Rat eh? Debbie owes me a favor, she'll let us a key to 'is room, and we 'it 'im tonight..."

Academy: Old Spear House: Explosion

The pengi bartender had unveiled a new drink, the flaming iceberg, unfortunatly, the fire, industrial alcohol, high voltage electricity, and clockwork, caused a spontaneous explosion.

Footman's Logg, June-July, 188X, Laboratory notes

June 18th: Edward, aka: Project #626, is developing nicely, the energy emissions are increasing on an almost daily rate, much faster than the eels. I have noticed an effect some of the stray emissions have had on the etheric containment chamber, the one the SLenderman is currently held in, the output of the feild has been fluctuating, I've had to move the machine before we had a breakout. An examination has shown the shadowman is still safely trapped inside, but better to be safe than sorry.

June 24th: Since the removal of the Spirit Containment Unit from the lab, Project 626's development has slowed, it's possible there was some sort of etheric emergy feedback loop occuring between both machines. The organism has become more sluggish, the energy output lessened. I even halved the ration of sedatives, but it seems to be regressing.



June 28th: Little work was preformed, as I have found myself taking care of a broken leg at the currently being remodelled hospital. I did return to the lab after, to find Project #626 actually active, slapping the viewing glass of the development chamber with his tentacles, while the energy readyouts had spiked. Whatever had caused the recent regression, it couldn't have been the containment device then. Edward was quickly sedated.



July 1st: Project 626 was regressed again, I had increased the ration of immortalus serum, and decreased the sedative again, to little avail, I'm hesitant to call it a lost cause and flush him into the canals, the tissue sample alone was expensive, and not easy to come by another.



July 2nd: On further examination as to project 626's sluggish state, it appears to be growing an arm, it could be most the organism's energy is being diverted to it's regenerative abilities, this may requite further study.

Footman's Logg, June, 26th, 188X, mixology for constructs

The Old Spears house is now, for all intent's and purposes, open for business, and even has a tenant in one of the upstairs rooms. the bartender however, needs more work.

Pengi #99 had returned from advanced mixing classes, and after being assured his lack of thumbs, fingers, and anything other than iron flippers would not impede his mixing, I put him to work behind the bar, I ordered a rum. the avian construct went to work, pouring me, a whiskey. Miss Eslan had stopped in and after ordering an absynthe, received....a rum.

It could be an error in his cognigator, or it could just be the amount of liquor he'd already imbibed himelf, but reguardless, it appears he'll need some work before he can get drink orders right.



I should of just hired a zombie.

The Old Spears House

Formerly a pump station, supplying water to the Academy district, it was then bought and refurbished by a Dr. R.A. Spears to lie in as he preformed research into what he termed 'Arcaneotech" . Dr. Spears dissapeared mysteriously one night, and the house fell into disrepair until it was recently bought and rebuilt by Prof. Grendel Footman.

Now it has a bar, and possibly rooms to rent.

I had arrived at the port, as there were cries of 'Snake!' apparantly it struck again, dragging someone into the sea. Miss Kimika Ying and Seraphina Puchina were there, as he creature kept peering out of the water, to be met with gunfire. We were joined by Mr. Mournington just in time to see a large steamshovel, with passengers, drive down the stairs, and off the dock, into the water with a splash, After the riders were fished out, Miss Chrometria and Mr. Lorefield, the serpent emerged again, to bite Victor befre swimming off. At this point the crowd dispersed. I mase my own leave to get to where I had docked the Iron Kraken, taking it down to the depths.



As I descended in the submersible, I donned my juggernaught class diving suit, Returnning to the controls, I caught a flash of fin, thr snake was here.



Unfortunatly the serpent was too agile for the Kraken to keep up with it and I lost it, but I disembarked from the submersible to examine the wreckage it was swimming around.



What I saw, was a pile of bodies, most in blue suits, some just bones. I feel this is where the snake has been bringing it's victims. I took a deuurogotype and returned to my sub, to surface and write a report to the naval command.

Footman's Logg: File A-12, essay on geography of the steamlands

The geography of the world is often argued and refuted, many of the maps currently are out of date, or lost in fires or the fall of empires, the rest are often inaccurate on scale or sometimes shapes of the landmasses. It's always been a fact, that despite the fact we have reached the moon, we still can't come to agreement of the layout of our own world.

Many of the old timers in Babbage have settled to where their curiosity of the world ends at the city limits, possibly due to senility. As some of them have possibly been involved in the creation of the early maps and explorations, it makes obtaining information difficult.

What is known and accepted currently:
New Babbage is on the eastern side of the landmass known simply as the 'Old Empire'
it's built on a harbor of the Vernian Sea.
to the Northwet, are mountians and some mining towns, farther West is Ichor Falls, Bump is to the North, Ravilia is to the south, across the Vernian.

Farther out to sea, to the Southeast, lies Armada, a town existing on an artificial floating island of ships, wrecks, and driftwood.

Far to the East, across the ocean, lies Cala Mondrago, Caledon is located a further northeast, with Winterfell north of that.

West of Babbage, and on the western coast of the landmass known as the Americas is Steelhead Oregon. Going much much further West, between the Americas and Orient, is apparantly Steeltopia.

Travelling farther brings you to Japan, home of the late Miss Hermit.

The recently dscovered Forgotten City s located far north of there.

To the extreme south, as far south as you can go, lies Antarctica, where in Byrd's Landing, the Harbor Landing colony is established, the last surviving antarctic colony.

Back north, beneath the seas of the Atlantic lies either Nautilis City, or Rapture, depending who you ask.

and past the stratosphere of course is the Moon, where Babbage's first moon base has been erected.

There's actually much more areas who's status after the fall of the Old Empire is unknown, Miss Gizzy's claims to have come from an 'Empire of Steel", the Island of Katonia, much of the orient, still requires exploration and study. it is a large undertaking however, as many maps and charts, as has been mentioned earlier, have been lost or distorted after the fall of the old empire, lost in fires, or misplaced. And there is much ignorance and superstition still these days, people insisting it's irrelevant as the whole world is a 'dream' or that we're all travelling on the back of a giant louse clingng to te head of an unwashed, universe sized urchin. it makes true researh difficult without just packing a ship and looking for yourself.

Footman's Logg, Cala Mondrago, Sultana's suggestion

I had awhile back, opened shopspace in the desert kingdom of Cala Mondrago. Selling automotons and automoton accessories imported from my factory in New Babbage. The upper floor I had used as a mall research lab into the 'Djinn' species that seem to be native here.

I had met a couple people I knew from oter steamlands already making their residence, the Sultana, Miss Bianca Namori being one of them. Whether that' a good or a bad thing, I am not sure.

I had been in Cala Mondrago that week, running tests on a mummy the pengi's had found in the desert, I'm not aware of any civilizations practicing mummification in the area, but it could easily have been a natural one.

Miss Gizzy had been printing posters advertizing a mummy on display in the lab, I let her run with it for now, as I'm leaving her to run the store while I'm back in Babbage, when I received a telegrahm from Bianca.

"Bianca Namori: Mr. Footman! STOP I have the dumbest idea ever....STOP
Open up an amaretto breedable auction house....in Mondrago for horses. STOP
I say you should start clockwork breedable pets...STOP
Do it. =_= STOP"

"Grendel Footman: ?
not a bad idea, I'd just need to work out the mechanics, STOP
I can build the pets theselves, making them breed, that part might take some research STOP
I'll look into it STOP"


So, somehow, from a suggestion "that almost sounded more like an order" from the sultana of Cala Mondrago herself, I now am finding myself stuck working out how to make 'breedable pet clockworks" how do you get a machine to breed anyway?


I first attempted on one of the pengi, #33, he was always somewhat mean tempered. Installing a miniturized factory to build smaller pengi. Once he was reactivated, he stood there, 'warked', then exploded. I left Miss Gizzy to clean up the peices and reassemble him as I prepared to return to Babbage, this was going to require more research.

Footman's Logg, May 25th, 188X, Test 47

:Refer to visual recording cylinder 12B, labelled 'Bio-Alchemical Power Generation Test-12, Projeckt test 47":

**when inserted into viewer and cranked, visor lights up to show a shakey image of a lab, Grendel Footman is standing at a table, connecting wires to an object in a dissection tray**



"#92, keep the imagfier steady and bring it closer."

*image zooms in as a mechanicle 'warking' is heard in the background* "Yes yes, I'll give you an extra ration of rum, just focus on the table already!"

*Image zooms in to what appears to be a dark, twitching tentacle, partially vivisected, held open by pins, with copper wires clamped inside the inscision, Footman is heard clearing his throat*

"Ahem, you're looking at a freshly amputated tentacle from the organism, nicknamed 'Edward', at a couple months old now, the rganism's growth has caused the need to cut back on some components of the serum/nutrient broth in the chamber. Thi tentacle was found growing through a crack found between two of the plates making the main body of the chamber, the gap has since been repaired. We have connected copper wires to the tentacle, in the hopes the organism has inherited the desired traits from the C-Cells. The other ends of the wires are connected to an invention of Edison's, the electric light bulb. We will proceed with the test now."

*Footman's hands appear in the image, wearing heavy rubber gloves, as the ends of the wires are attached to the lightbulbs. nothing happens.* "that's strange, it should have lit up, don't tell me the cells weren't really from -"

* a rubber gloved fist slams on the table, as the tentacle twitches, and sparks are seen, as the lightbulbs light up*

"ah, there we go, success!!"

*sounds of mechanicle warking*

"Hm? oh no, it won't be neccisary to bring a team of pengi to visit that dealer, anyway,"

*image zooms out as Footman clasps his hands together*

"As you can see, the power output of just a 12 in. tentacle is enough to power a few lightbulbs, imagine the whole organism. The next step is to figure out a way to control the growth and regeneraton of the organism, It's been occaionally forcing it's way into the plumbing. Sedatives were helping, but I've been having to use stronger and stronger chemicals."

*the image shifts past Footman to show a brass chamber with something dark floating in the window*

"work will continue on the development of the organism, As the test has shown, there is a very high probability the old man told the truth, and the sample I bought is in fact, cloud angel cells, or, they could just be the skin shavings of an incredibly large electric eel, eitherway, they have taken with the other cell samples, quite well, though I maybe should have gone lighter with planarian flatworm, one thing I can say, it does not like the human skeleton."

*the image centers back on Footman*

"it is my hope, that with further testing, we can soon replace steam and gas, even go beyond acheivements in electrical generation, by introducing a new surce of power, utilizing these self replicating, perpetual, power plants. Alright, you can turn the imagifier off now."

*Image dims and goes dark, just as the tentacle is seen waving in the background*

Footman's Logg, May 17th, 188X, Purging the factory

As there still haven't been any snakes in the snake trap (just a very annoyed urchin), I've researched the sightings further, as it always seems to be exiting or entering one of the city's waterways, it seems to be apparant, that's primarily how it gets around.

So, to flush the thing out, I've had the waste tanks of the factory purged, opening the waste expulson pipes, and draining all the leftover material fromthe assembly room, excess chamber fluid from Edward, and the byproduct of the production of my serum, all dumped into the canal.

It should, with the inter-connectivity, eventually spread to all the canals, and possibly the Vernian, and hopefully expel the snake, for capture and study, as it should push the normal chemical levels of the canals, to a more extreme level.

Then again, if the snake is already used to the canals, there's a good chance the new chemical slurry introduced would only be a minor irritation to it, though it may cause an increase in wiggyfish size...

Footman's Logg, May15, 188X, Snakes on a Zepplin

After reading the articles, hearing the rumors, and finally glimpsng what I thought was the monster snake in Wheatstone slipping into a canal, I've gotten out my old monster hunting equiptment. The trap, thankfully was still in working order, if a little dusty, and so was set up near the canal I saw the tail end of the creature slip into.

Iron shod box with large iron plate opened on one side, one metal grate on the other, the mechanism of gears on top designed to slam down the plates on either side when the monster attempts to pass through, sealing it in, the grate on one sie allows the hunter to see the monster, this design has aided me well in capturing wild yeti in the hymalayas, As I have situated it near one of the waterways the thing travels by, I beleive it will be only a matter of time, then, the task will be a study and dissection

Footman's Logg, in the world of the Trichromat, the Monochromat is king

((just thought of typing this up after a conversation during the regreening party that came up, I'm monochromatically colorbling in RL, and since it's easier than faking that I see colors, I just RP Grendel as colorblind as well))



Earlier this week, when I was out and about, there was all this commotion, people staring at their walls and obsessivly scrubbing them. No idea what they've developed OCD over.

I had been taking a walk earlier, when I saw some sort of missle come out of nowhere and strike one of the buildings, splatting in some sort of dark grey liquid. It didn't seem too do much harm, so I continued on, despite the apparant distress at som of the fellow pedestrians, who started going on about something being purple.

As the week went on, I started hearing more about this 'purple', Dr. O apparantly had taken as his new evil plan, to launching purple paint all over Babbage.......he must be running out of ideas for death machines then is all I can figure.

Then I started worrying my own factry would be hit with the purple, and I wouldn't know. It's been dry the whole week, but if I was out and it was hit and had the time to dry, how was I to know?

So, a new test, while I've replaced many organs on myself in the past, I've never replaced my eyes. A trip to the hospital was in order. After making sure there wasn't any other staff or patients around, I paid a visit to the mourge. It took some doing, but I was able to find a corpse with both eyes still (I suspect a victim of the snake). Taking them was simple, then I prepped the surgery, and went to work. Work was....interesting, when you cant really see what you are doing. After a few false starts, and with the pengi orderly I brought with me busy with a bottle of jack daniels and a hammer (I'll have to replace the smashed bottles with ones from my own kit I'm afraid), it was soon done. I quickly left the hospital, and looked over the city to see what exactly everyone was so anxious about, and saw, grey.

Had I read the chart I would of seen the cadaver was colorblind as well.

Footman's Logg, Apr 20th, 188X, further project notes

Project 001, nicknamed 'Edward" is on week 3 of it's development.

The necroization of the cells has almost completley cleared now with the introduction of the c-cells.

After aquiring the 2nd sample, it was left to soak in an immortalis serum based culture, before being extracted and introduced to the organism in the regenetorium.

Energy output from the organism is now at 200%, double the output I ever received from the eels.

I had ectracted a sample of one tentacle, the damaged tissue healed completely within an hour. As the sample itself, while examining it under a microscope, it was apparant the cells were replicating, possibly towards rowing a new organism. Once I was done studying the tissue, I had the sample sent to the incinerator.

The organism itself still appears unaware, the one eye shows no signs of intelligence, just as planned, the brain has not developed towards saience. Of course, the tranqualizers mixed liberally in it's serum/nutrient mix regulated by the factory's logic stack, keeping it drugged, just in case.

More tests will have to be taken of course, but it's coming out quite well.

Footman's Logg, Apr 17th, 188X, repairs

I had brought Gizzy down to the assembly area/workshop. The arm was easy enough to replace, as I had plenty different models.

The key was more problematic.
I had to go back through my notes on Gizzy's engineering, primarily as all the gears to that mechanism that powered her, I had gone through and numbered.

In the end, thinking about all the times she had wound down at bad times, I reworked the mechanism, taking one of the type 8 steam boilers for the 005 series (as the brass might be more appreciated by Gizzy rather than cast iron of th 005 series), and was able to refit her kinetics to the boiler.

Stoking the small brass plated burner now on her back, I activated her cognigator. Once I saw the gears of the cognigator tcking as they should, I closed her up, and activted the rest.

Afer she took some time to adjust and get dressed, and examined the smokesacks on her shoulders in the mirror, she proclaimed herself ready to resume her duties. I had asked her what had happened to leave her in such a state. She had little memory except for a discovery at the excavation site at the colony in Antarctica, and had boarded the next zubmersible to Babbage, then something about a ruptured hull, claws, glimpses of a bright room with buzzing noises, activating again in the canals with a sense of urgency and low power reserves, then nothing until I finally reactivated her.

Whatever happened may have damaged the memory stacks in her cognigator, as for the discovery, she couldn't remember, I have sent a message to Harbor Landing about this, but as the weather in Antarctica can delay things, it could easily be a few days, or even weeks until I receive a response.

Footman's Logg, Cala Mondrago

(journal notes on Footman's time in Cala Mondrago)

I had arrived in Cala Mondrago, after receiving a telegram that rather than travel to New Babbage, given the sensitive nature of my sample, Al Hazard was instead, sending his man to Cala Mondrago and would meet me there. As the Sparrowood was currentl being refitted for long term expiditions into unknown areas, I had taken a base F.I. cargo zepplin instead, the Voyinch.
It was a fairly cramped ride, the cargo zepplins are designed to be piloted by automoton, who need little space, or type omega logic engines, a new analytical engine based off my research into Miss Gizzy's cognigator, the end result is plenty of space for cargo, very little for people.

Once we arrived, it took awhile of wandering it's sandy streets until I found the location in the telegram, a small bar in a corner of what I think is either their residential district, or their business. After watching to make sure I didn't step in any camel piles, camel spiders, or scorpions, I made it into the bar. It was largely empty aside from a pair of barely clothed women in one corner, and a robed man in another. (interestingly, there didn't seem to be an actual bar in thsi bar, the bartender just stood near a wall and seemed to pull drinks out of his apron, as if by magic). I regretfully walked past the pair of ladies to the robed man.
Once I approached, he stood up and offered hs hand "Footman? I am Nikolai Krazamatic, I beleive I have a package for you." Once I saw his pale face, I could tell he wasn't native, from the paleness and name, i'd judge he was from one of the eastern european areas, possibly Russia.
We sat down and he pushed a drink aross the table "Before business, we drink." Taking the shot glass, I nodded cheers and pulled down my rebreather to take a drink. "Gods, you really are as bad off as I was told." "yes, lab accident, and a few weeks lost at sea without my medication did not help matters, so, let's get to the point, you have the item?"
Nikolai grinned as he pulled a copper and glass cylinder from his robe. "Yes, it is here and safe, my employer did not trust sending it to Babbage, too many things get lost in Bump."
"Your employer could have sent it by airship, we do have a few docking stations you know."
"He does not trust air travel either."
Thinking back on the various crashes I, or friends of mine had experienced, I could understand."
"very well, so the amount agreed, 45,000 Steeltopia calams."
Nikolai frowned, "I was told 55,000..."
"fine, here." I tossed the bundle of bills on the table and snatched the container from his hand.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Footman." Nikolai got up and without saying another word, took the money and left. I finished my drink, looking at the container. It was a smallish glass vial capped on both ends by copper, with a small copper valve on one end. The vial itself was filled with a clear liquid, the important part though, was the small peice f faintly glowing flesh suspended in the liquid.

There's legends in New Babbage, mostly discounted by skeptics, despite the evidence found to support it. The old Empire New Babbage was built on the remains of, had powered many of their devices, not by steam, gas, or aetheric electricity, but through the aid of a creature reffered to as a 'cloud angel'. Then, whatever happened to cause the fall of the Old Empire, the magical dead zone in old quarter, and the 'clockhaven effect' that causes magical effects to either go wrong, or not work at all unless mechanically aided, these cloud angels stopped helping the old empire, and mostly dissappeared aside from occasional sightings over time.
The finding of old machinery with no apparant power source supports this.

I had preformed experiments in the past, attempting to harness other magical beings as a source of power, but fairies are hard to come by in Babbage, and the introduction of 'Reality Enforcement Devices" had caused an uproar among the magical based species in the city I didn't want to get embroiled in. I had attempted to redirect my research into ghosts, after my attempts at communication with an engineer at that time failed, and the incident with the SLenderman caused the development of the aetheric containment units. But that research hit a dead end when I found that rather than being magical themselves, ghosts aparantly just utilize the aetheric energy around them to manifest, and interact in the world of the living, wether magic, electric, or kinetic. (wich explains the ones seen in Clockhaven.)

And so, the sample of Cloud Angel cells that brought me to Cala Mondrago.


The cargo zepplin would have left by now to the Antarctic colonies, I would have to wait for the next one to New Babbage to rerout this way. So I took in the sights of the desert city.

The first thing on the agenda, there was a river flowing through it, and I had my pole, so some fishing was in order. I caught a few new species of fish to add to my aquarium at home after a few hours and so packed it in and went to be a tourist.

I could see both Steelhead and the Baron's people had set up a presence here, and Babbage itself seemed to have a small unserwater dome off the coast. Otherwise it doesn't seem that the culture is that impacted with the other steamlands. much of it still looked like I assume it would a few hundred years ago. But there were a few signs of technology, including a power plant, and moving pictures theatre. Magic seems much more common here as well, as there were a few proclaiming themselves to be djinn, or genies, more study would have to be taken.

Footman's Logg, Apr 16th, 188X, further work

Development is proceeding well, the main logic-engine core for the factory has had some of it's processes rerouted to control the input of serum into the regeneratorium. It has taken to the new cell sample well. I had to travel to pick it up myself however, to Cala Mondrago where I met with the suplyer in some empty bar in a corner. After taking some time to fish, I took the F.I. zepplin back to Babbage. After the required tests to assure it was real (how they managed to get a sample from such a creature, i'm not sure of), and introduced it into the cellular culture growing in the regenaratorium. After a few days of new growth, the energy readings increased tenfold.

At this point my work was interrupted by the sounds of the doors upstairs followed by a loud thud. I sealed off the lab and went to see who it was, to find Miss Gizzy, sans an arm and wth her key ripped out, laying in a heap on my floor, as 004 chatted away at her mindlessly.

Footman's Logg, April 12th, 188X, Research and Development

The organism in the lab is developing at a decent rate. The cells took to the culture quite well once the new formula of serum was introduced. The base cell sample had been taken from an air kraken off the coat of Caledon, a small section of tentacle. A couple weeks and it has already developed an eye. The project is coming along nicely, it i almost ready for the introduction of the type 2 cells at this point, his energy output ha already caused me to have to replace the external recongenitorium's outer shell with a stronger alloy, the second sample should be arriving soon, provided the man escourting it doesn't get ff the train in Bump that is

Footman's Logg, April 9th, 188X

The new factory is now, for all intents and purposes, open. A new subsidiary of Footman Industries in Babbage, primarily dealing with what my grandfather founded the company for, automotons. Most the assembly is in the basement level, the constant noise coming from down there is soothing for the post part.
The showroom still isn't terribly crowded, just a few crates of commodities, such as the Pterano-flyer I had built some time ago, and the newer 004 series model of automoton, from the technology I had developed with Miss Aya after studying the remarkably advanced engineering in Gizzy's frame.
(they're still a sad shadow of Gizzy's intelect and personality, but I'm getting closer.)
The upper floors I have dedicaed to the library, parlor, and my rivate office/study.
While they still work as overall labor, I can no longer rely on the Pengi's to keep the facility safe, the explosion of my old electric eel power plant through their negligence proved that, And with Miss Gizzy still at the Harbor Landing site helping with the excavations, I have designed a new security construct. Resembling spiders, I call them Arachnotons. They have very simple cognigators that give them more a canine intelligence, but they've been guarding the building well so far. I am currently working on an arena for construct combat, I have a basic kit for combat models of automotons in the showroom, possibly a construct wrestling league would not be oo far in the future.

More importantly than all this is my lab, I have utilized one of the lower storage rooms, keeping the entrance behind a stack of shipping crates. All my more hands on research I have moved down there, as well as one of the brewing vats from Harbor Landing, the new research with takes much more than my usual amount I take from the plant in Antarctica. And my recent castaway experience had proved to me that I never wanted to run low on my own supply again.
Plus, I need much more than a few vials as Edward develops...

Footman's Logg: March 31st, 188X

Having finally arrived in New Babbage, in time for the oiling festival no less (and no, my zombie eradicator did not win, I think the smell of frying zombie scared people away), I stayed a few days in my submersible while I cleaned up and managed to finally get a proper dosage of serum.

I successfully missed the ball, and mostly eyed the assorted machinery, windmills and rides set up around the city.

Once the oiling festival ended, I went forward with my plans, and began construction on Footman Automotons, an automoton factory in wheatstone. Construction has mostly completed, the machinery for the building and repair of automotons is slowly arriving, and I have a lab once again.

As the pengi have more important work currently loading and unloading crates elivered, I have built a kind of arachnopodic automoton to guard the assembly floor, (and my laboratory)

so far not bad, there are still some kinks to work out of the arachnotons, as one decided to guard the bottom of the canal running in back, but otherwise it's more or less up and running.

recount of Footman's Logg from Mar 7th, 188X

I've been drifting on the sea for



awhile, I'm not exactly sure how long.



I've mostly lived off fish, as my



dwindling supplies of serum...well



dwindle.



I finally had good fortune, a fishing



ship came across the pod, and while it



took some explaining to convince the



crew on board I was not some spirit of



the drowned come to take them all to



Davey Jones, we were soon off.



After a few days, the ship reached



Steelhead, where seeing how it was semi



familiar, and they had no plans to head



towards New Babbage, I disembarked.



It was interesting, being far from home



while having no access to my resources



or funds. But after a time, I was able



to find an old woman in the Shanghai



district, who sold and traded herbs and



likewise from her own homeland. After



trading with the old woman, my cane,



and the automoton that had been less



than helpful during my crash and period



of castaway status, (the negotiations



were interesting to say the least,



given the fact she only spoke broken



cantonese, I may have alluded to the



fact the automoton was a lost Tibetian



god or something) for some needed



ingredients (I had suspected she kept



the rarer items in back, fortunatly I



was correct), and retreiving the boiler



from a boat I spotted at the bottom of



Steelhead's canal (the water was



disturbingly clear), I holed up in one



of the shacks on the outskirts,



recompensating the elderly woman the



room and board by enhancing her



smuggled opium with a simple mixture of



rattlesnake extract and strawberry



jelly. Where I was able to juryrig a



brewer and mixed the ingredients from



the Shanghai woman, with a leftover jar



of Footman's Balm, to make a somewhat



watered down version of my serum, (that



I am calling Formula 0, due to the fact



it has 0 redeeming qualities, it burned



like fire mixed with whiskey going



down, of course then again it had never



been intended for drinking).



After a time of more or less slumming



it in Shanghai, I was soon able to



locate the next ship to New Babbage, I



did have to convince the captian I



could improve the speed if he let me



take a look at his engines, hopefully



they will hold off exploding until we



reach port.

Footman's Logg; Feb 14th, 18XX :..........

I sadly had to cut my visit to the moon short, having still never found Selenites, or really getting anywhere's with my lunar research, but it was a pleasant, if somewhat quiet, visit.

the skeleton crew up here keeping mostly scarce aside from repeatedly asking me if I had authorization to use the laboratory (usually a flat out lie telling them I was there on navy business would make them go away, but if that didn't work, informing them I worked for the hospital back in babbage seemed to grant me access, as well as a laundry list of typically overhyped ailments that particular person was suffering, why he never seemed to remember I'd been in the lab using it already, I haven't the foggiest), or to repair the steamrover.

My supply of serum # 14 was running low as well, I had used the last bit on the head (fortunatly the one peice of information my research had shown, the moon is relatively safer from zombies, they'd move even more slow if not freeze solid, much like escapees at the Harbor Landing facility), so I would need to return to earth for more supplies.

After seeing to the automotons packing my equiptment, I had made my way to where my rocket was docked,  Only to be stopped by a young man in a ridiculous uniform, it appeared to have been some form of military dress uniform at one point, but with much gold colored material incorporated into it, and some badge that seemed to take over a good quarter of his chest, resembling a moon with a fairly inaccurate rocket orbiting it.  He claimed to be one of the autorities of the base, though I had never seen any mention of him, or that particular uniform on any of the occasional crew I'd already met. And tried to bar me from boarding my own rocket!

He said I had no clearance for take off, it's a private aethercraft and I told him I was well withing rights to launch it when and where I required, especially on the moon.  He babbled on about some 'federation' and, finally annoyed, I had the lunar automoton accompanying me let loose it's teslarod  on him.  Once I was assured he was out cold, I stepped over and returned to my rocket.

Sitting in the control seat, I started activating switches, making sure all systems were on, and there was plenty of air and we were pressurized before I removed my helmet.  Once all gauges were at 100%, I hit the ignition button, and so we left the lunar surface.

I set course to earth, planning on re-entry coming  down in the Vernian, and got up to make a pot of coffee.  




As I was taking my fifth cup of coffee, I immediatly spit it out as warning klaxons sounded, rushing back to the cockpit, I saw the gauges were all off by 70%, and we were soon to be in re-entry, and the systems for closing the heat sheilds were only at 10%.
How this happened, I had no time to figure out, I had to get the heat sheilds up at the very least.

This involved prying up one of the floor panels, and crawling into the workings of the rocket, where it was already very hot.  I found the cogwork for the heat sheilds and saw immediatly, one of my canes was in the works, how that happened, again, no time to work out.

I set to work extracting it, as I felt the vessel shuddering, and the klaxons sounding, as well as a new klaxon, as the automoton had decided to be helpful by following me and sounding a warning klaxon in my ear in rythm with the ship's.

Eventually, coated in sweat and with a pounding headache, I managed to force out the cane, and the cogs turned again.

Getting back to the controls in a hurry, I pulled the lever to manually close the heatshields, watching the glass of the viewscreen begin to melt, as I braced my foot against the control unit and pulled.  Eventually it slammed down with a click, as the heavy metal sheild slammed shut.


It still wasn't a relaxing ride, As I'm trying to buckle myself to the seat, and failing as I'm tossed around like a ragdoll while the rocket tumbled from the sky. It finally ended abruptly with a loud crashing sound as the rocket slammed hard and I was whacked into the side of the hull.


The klaxons were still sounding, this time the cause was obvious, water was pouring into the hull.  I retreated to the rear of the rocket, and standing in the bronze diving bell in back, activated the terrestrian escape system.

The diving bell was ejected from the rear of the rocket, high enough, I could see from the window, landmarks that looked unfamiliar, plus the fact the rocket was quickly descending to the depths, before the bell reached the end of it's arc, and splashed down into the sea, the rafts around the circumferance activating as they kept it afloat.


I should of just taken the portal back.

Footman's Logg; Feb 13th, 18XX :Further research on the Moon

I've been at the moon base, preforming some research of my own while taking vacation.

Fist was testing the Tesla Field Generator, wich utilizes the human body as a tesla coil to generate a field, I needed to see how it reacts to the lack of an atmosphere, unfortunatly, it also causes 3rd degree burns.

Afterwards, I took one of the steamrovers out to continue my search for moon men, so far, not even a Selenite.  I took a few rocks for further work, 

Partially out of boredom, and partially for my research into the Immortalis serum, I had broght the head of a corpse, taken from the mourge.  Bringing it outside to the lunar surface with me, I prepared a dose of serum formula 14, and injected it in the head's left nostril.

Freezing temperatures do not seem to sit well with the newly reanimated dead, it gnashed it's teeth much more sluggish than it would on Terra Firma.  Eventually it vomited (I have no idea where the vomit came from, seeing as there was no stomache) in a cloud of frozen particles, and I drop-kicked it.  The lower gravity gave it quite an arc.  I soon lst the head over the horizon.

After returning to the station, I helped myself to a cup of coffee and reviewed my notes, so far little of my research here was coming to fruition.

Unfortunatly I will have to return to Earth eventually, as after the last experiment, my personal supplies of serum were running low, and I was not about to attempt the balm as a substitute after last time.

 

Footman's Logg; Feb 7th, 18XX :Holiday on the Moon

I have returned breifly to New Babbage, where I learned of the moon base.

Determined to visit as part of my vacation, I first constructed a rocket to transport myself, it unfortunatly did not survive it's first launch and nosedived back into the earth spectacularly , sadly the test automoton did not survive.

So, I reconfigured a base rocket used in early experiment's breaking out of the atmosphere, and loaded it with more powerful rockets.

That seemed to do the trick, as it held together much better. So, setting a temporary launch pad in the Academy, fitted my pressure suit from when I visited Miss Static's orbital station over my winter coat, and the launch was soon underway.

]

It landed a little roughly, bending the base stand in the rear slightly on moon rocks, but otherwise handeled well.

I soon made my way to the base. Entering first, posing for the camera automoton by the Babbage flag, as any self respecting tourist would do.

The station itself is fairly impressive, and I see the Clockhaven power plant's portal technology has been linked already (had I realized, I might have save myself the hassle of aquiring a working rocket).

The living quarters were fairly nice, resembling some hotel, though the bed in one room wasn't made, they may want to see about either hiring a maid, or getting some sort of automotons (wich I'd happily make a deal on behalf of Footman Industries for)

I found the observatory first, the telescope give a very vivid picture of the heavens, including a detailed look at Mars, sadly, the camera drone had wound down at that point and dropped like a somewhat light rock (the moon appears to have a low gravity).

After a quick windup, and some time in the bar, (a true sign of civilization if I've ever seen one), I managed to locate the simulation room, which appears to utilize some sort of new technology to create a 3 dimensional representation of the stars.

After some searching, I finally located the lab, very basic, but has all the nessecities, I may borrow it during my stay for my own research.

After exploring the base, I donned my helmet again and stepped out to walk the surface, No sign of moon men so far, but the view is impressive, Earth seems about the size of a golfball from here, New Babbage is not even visible.

All in all, I may spend a while up here, as the research oppertunities are many. Sadly, there's no fishing here, I will have to make do.

Footman's Logg: January 27th, 188X

After the destruction of the plant, I've taken a short leave of the city, handing the land the cemetary rests on to a man of similar sounding studies, Mr. Fanshaw.



I've travelled first to Harbor Landing in Byrdland, Antarctica, to oversee reopening of the automoton plant, and seal blubber cannery (as well as check on the serum distillery), as automoton manufacturing has been a sadly neglected part of Footman Industries as of late, and I had developed new upgrades from my study of Miss Gizzy's manufacture (who has lately dissappeared herself).



I then travelled to Armada in the A.C.Z. Sparrowwood, for a bit of a vacation, fishing. While there, I was notified on an attack on an Antarctic Colony airship, it had been picking up a shipment of gears for the machinery at the main production plants in Harbor Landing. Unfortunatly, there was no explosion, the theif made off with the shipment, (the worse part was they were also picking up a prototype cognigator I developed and had in storage, that had also been taken), but the crew was undamaged.



I've made note of this and continued to my fishing.



The Badger had accompanied me, as part of his early retirement, but claimed it was much too wet, and so he would be returning to his homeland in Caledon.



I will possibly take some time to visit a few areas before I return, I haven't been to Innsmouth in over a year, or Miskatonic for that matter.