StarDestroyer.Net BBS

[In essence what I seek to do here is to create a series of relatively unrelated short stories set in Pendleton, rather than try to shoehorn my main characters into events that are interesting but not really their kind of deal.]

An Account of Certain Events at Crater Lake Part I

Crater Lake
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
Wednesday 8 June 1005 NE

Rangers Station

The Rangers station was simply a large wooden cabin, apparently made from local timber sawn to fit at the very spot where it was constructed, but though it was rough hewn it was still quite well constructed and comfortable for the occupants. A single brick pipe rose from the structure, that and the windows were among the few signs that something had been brought in from outside to make the station. Outside of it there was a watchtower, it was quite tall maybe a whole eighty feet and on top there was a small shelter where an observer could comfortably spend several hours, since the station was built on top of a hill it afforded a most excellent view of the surroundings.

The surroundings were quite beautiful, even picturesque, a vast wild landscape with dense forests. It is hard to properly describe these forests to someone who has not seen them, for these are not the pleasant open forests of Pendleton or Avonlea, forests tamed by man, occasionally harvested for timber, or else the result of pasture land being fallow. No these forests were something else entirely, ancient and dark having never been cut in the centuries since the Fall, the thick branches of the trees tangled into each other creating an ever present dusk on the floor of the forest, where only mushrooms and the odd sturdy fern could grow.

These woods were ancient indeed, thick oaks that must have stood undisturbed for centuries, and beeches, and firs, and countless other trees covered the land so that it was said that you could walk for a hundred miles and not once see the sun. Even though the outskirts of the great woods were now conquered there was an undeclared, yet rarely crossed, border stretching maybe thirty to forty miles around the Crater Lake where permanent settlements, aside from a few Ranger Stations and hunting cabins, were never successful.

Despite this there had the last century been some attempts at developing the region, but other than being somewhat popular with rich hunters and daring poachers, and of course the odd young men and women daring each other to spend a night or two at the Crater Lake, there had been no success. However a few roads did cross the forest, Ranger and Animal tracks, a few wider gravel roads, and a single macadam road built some forty years ago by a consortium of lumber merchants who would since despair as their investment came to naught.

The Crater Lake itself was of course the reason for all of this, it was perfectly clear when you first saw it, indeed when you rowed out onto the lake on a good day you could often see the bottom even when it was a hundred feet straight down. At the bottom there was a smooth surface, unnaturally smooth, with only a few wide cracks where strange underwater plants had settled, but in the main the bottom was covered purely by green algae that were the only thing that could live on the glassy surface. There was something most disturbing about the sea though, the fishes there were somehow different, larger yes but also strangely archaic, and the same went for the birds that settled in the area, and even the wild animals, they were big and yet strangely primitive in a way that made the locals cross themselves and make the sign against evil spirits.

However the most disturbing thing about it was perhaps the size, for it was thirty miles wide and almost perfectly round, looking like a circle on any maps drawn of the region, a blue circle in a wide patch of green. Only one river outlet left it to come to the Atanya, and only a handful of smaller streams entered it, and yet the one river that left it would occasionally turn black with ashy sediments; where these sediments could come from no one quite knew, but knowledgeable local people sometimes hinted about great powerful streams that reached down to the bottom of the lake and fished up the ashes from The Fall, but of course most scholars scoffed at such things and tried to find other solutions, perhaps too educated or too frightened to consider such peasant superstitions.

For the Rangers at the station there was little excitement, day in and day out and there wasn't more happening that some poacher getting a big daring, of course they pretended to chase them but it rarely helped and for the most part the area was fearful enough if you were there legitimately so there were few poachers that came so near the lake itself. Occasionally however a group of youngsters, sixteen to twenty something, would come in a fine carriage or more often these days in an expensive steamer, and they'd stop by for a few moments at the Ranger station to ask directions, buy a fishing license, or slide the Rangers a few shillings to keep the law on the good side; as such they didn't really mind.

The youths today had been no different they had driven down the Macadam road in two big touring cars, seven of them in each car with four servants between them, which for them counted as roughing it. A couple of them had gotten out at the Ranger station and approached, and upon being greeted by the Head Ranger they had discretely given him a guinea "for charity", being thus overpaid he had been quite friendly to them and even ordered one of his underlings to show them the best spot to camp.

Etienne Achard was the Chief Ranger or rather the Lieutenant des gardes forestières de parc du lac crater a resounding French title that allowed him to command this station. He was also bored out of his mind as he quarrelled with his second in command Sergent Jean-Anthelme Duguay.

"Monsieur Sergent!" Achard begun as he pointed to the single starburst insignia on his shoulder pad "may I remind you that I am a Lieutenant, and you are a lowly Sergeant?" he roared even as he slammed down the thick glass from which he was drinking commune wine.

"Pah! Pulling rank on me are you!" Duguay said with a sneer, then he lifted the glass up in a toast "I still say that it is the damnedest thing! My cousin the factory manager," he said as if saying "my cousin the colonel" "tells me that it is so, and there is grumbling!"

Truth be told the only difference between the two, as an outsider might see was that one of them had a single starburst on his epaulets, while the other wore on his sleeve the three chevrons of a sergeant. Other than that they were broadly similar, somewhat poorly shaved and wearing worn uniforms opened up in front to reveal their white but none too clean shirts, both of them men in their thirties with dark hair, brownish eyes and oversized slightly red tinged noses. They had of course proper uniforms, Sunday Uniforms, tucked away but these were only pulled out on special occasions.

Of course it was not the first time they sat by the crude table inside the cabin, thick glasses in their hands and a couple of bottles of the local wine on top of it, arguing over politics, or the theatre, or wine, or anything to get rid of the tedium of the outpost.

"Your cousin has no place criticizing, it's all for the benefit of the Republic!" Achard announced with the same air as if he was referring to a deity "opening up new trade with the outside, the new worlds, it is a splendid thing I tell you!"

"Pah! Monsieur, you may be a lieutenant but let me tell you, my cousin says that the men are grumbling, they are working them hard all the time, months now!" Duguay complained "For what? Re-arming for defence I can see, but working us as the donkeys for trade goods? Trade goods for foreigners, and paying other foreigners to move them instead of doing it our damn selves! Mon Dieu it is ludicrous!"

"Short sighted fools! I tell you the money from the trade, the trade with other French too! Yes monsieur, they speak French, even now in Bruxelles a fair group of them are learning the Art! Shouldn't we trade with them?"

"They are grumbling I say, grumbling, now soon you must use the Gendarmes to keep them silent."

"So let them, crack a few heads, teach the rabble to be silent!"

As they spoke, indeed throughout the conversation there were loud noises coming from the attic, guttural sounds and the creaking of floor boards making little specks of dust fall down onto the floor. They both looked up and shook their heads in unison.

"Mon DIEU," Duguay said "speaking of being silent" he pointed up at the attic and continued "damn but he is being loud, he's loud and has a deal with the devil to give him luck at cards!"

"For once you are absolutely right Sergent," Achard announced loudly "it's not natural to win such two times in the same month!"

After a few minutes though the loud sounds ended, and there was some scuffling about before another Park Ranger came down, this one was a bit taller than the others with with brownish hair and a big smile. There were two things about Caporal Joseph-Marie-Rodrigue Martel, first he had a ridiculously long first name, and second he had an equally ridiculous run of good luck the past month.

"Good morning Lieutenant, Sargeant," he said as he saluted the pair, he seemed quite pleased with himself in the relaxed slightly dazed manner that men in their early twenties sometimes have under certain circumstances.

It was only moments later that Bernadette Thierry came down, adjusting her simple ankle length dress and whitish apron, she was the cook of the station and also did most of the basic housework chores. She was hardly a beauty and now she was in her late thirties, brown eyes and stringy dark brown hair, that and a gaunt bony frame that made her look perpetually hungry.

"Dear," she said as she reached the floor, she sighed a bit looking at the two men and then picked up the empty bottles and began to put them away "always with the empty bottles," she muttered to herself as she slid them into the nearly full crate where she kept them. Then she began to prepare the dinner, as usual it would consist of a rabbit, as opposed to another small animal, that had been shot by the rangers, that and a wine sauce was pretty much her standard repertoire.

Now as ever she fussed and nitpicked, when the dinner was done she told the men simply "now then clear away from the table I need to put on the cutlery," then she quickly spread out the cutlery and the plates and began ladling up the latest stew.

As she did so the men talked among themselves "I tell you young man," Achard said "you have a future if ever you sit down with some colonel and he offers up promotion slips as wager!"

"Thank you lieutenant, but I'm not that good at cards, just lucky this month," Martel said with an embarrassed smile, he was still young enough to find it a bit embarrassing.

Duguay laughed and nudged him a bit, in a familiar chummy way that Lieutenants should avoid, "Come now, a man that wins our turns for a whole three days, hmmmm? We've seen you have that silly grin for a near week twice this month!"

They all laughed, Martel a bit self-consciously, especially as he watched Bernadette sigh and shake her head as if exasperated by the subject "oh you men, you're always boys!" she announced as she watched them begin to dig into the food.

"You should be flattered Mademoiselle," Achard begun, getting more laughter for using such a ridiculously polite form when dealing with a slave "surely you've never had such good..."

There was a sound outside, and then they heard a trumpet sound from the watchtower, it was a flat unsteady tone but something was definitely happening. Feeling somewhat annoyed Duguay looked at Martel "Corporal, you head out now and see what's happening."

Young Martel sighed, but as the junior man in the room he had no choice but to obey, he scooped up one last spoonful of stew and took a last gulp of wine as he stood up, and then he walked over to the rifle rack and grabbed his rifle. All the while sighing and muttering under his breath about the stupidity and lack of consideration marking all officers, but his in particular.

Then he opened the creaking door and went outside, the moment he got outside his eyes shot opened and he picked up speed "Sarge it's Florent and some other guy!" he yelled loudly as he moved towards the two straggling forms he saw "I think they're hurt!" he added said words at once caused noise from inside as his two companions got up and rushed towards the door.

Florent was Soldat Florent Maurice, a young man about Martels age known mainly for his abilities in hunting and fishing, but now he was supporting a young gentleman, both of them staggered slightly. Drawing nearer Martel noticed that the young gent had no coat or jacket on, just his white shirt and even there the cravat was open, most odd, and of course Maurice just looked shabby as they all did.

"What happened? What is wrong?" Martel asked the moment he got there, but instead of answering Maurice dropped down on his knees, the young gentleman slid down on the ground next to him and indeed would have fallen if Martel had not at once rushed forward to catch him.

"Spout, bubbles, æther, from the lake gas," Maurice began, then he added "rescue them!" before Martel could ask anything more Maurice began to throw up.

Turning to the young gentleman Martel noticed something very disturbing, the whites of his eyes had a greenish tint, and he was babbling madly it sounded something "phatugni yi-leh yuggyoru Zoggthaaz", he too was retching but only greenish bile escaped from the corners of his mouth.

At that very moment, the Lieutenant and the Sergeant reached him "What is happening?" Achard asked as was seemly, he was the lieutenant after all.

"I don't know Lieutenant!" Martel said "He's blabbering something about æther and what not."

"Ether poisoning!" Achard said at once "Quick now get them inside!"

At once Martel took Maurice, while Sergeant Duguay lifted up the young gentleman, and they carried the two as quickly as they could towards the cabin.

"He's got the signs, maybe their steamer sprang a leak and they breathed in fuel fumes?" Achard suggested as he opened up the door to the cabin and let them place the two young men on the ground.

At Bernadette's shocked

"Sir," Duguay said softly "they'd have to drink the damn fuel to get hit that bad, and at least a quart of it at that."

"How'd you know?" Achard asked indignantly "something else your factory manager cousin tells you?"

"No Sir, but sometimes the young men they fool around with æther to get high," Duguay said as he placed them on their side "Bernadette! Get some vinegar and lukewarm water!" he yelled at her.

Then all of a sudden there came a horrid screeching sound, up in the watchtower Private Babineau was turning the crank on the alarm. Achard's head shot up "what is now? You watch the sick," he cried as he stalked out the door only to look up at the watchtower and see Private Babineu gesturing madly at the lake.

Lieutenant Achard motioned at him so the young soldier finally stopped, then he yelled up at him "What is it Felix? What is happening?" or rather more crude words to the same effect.

"Green mist Sir! All over the lake, and somethings' happening," Babineu cried "it's something really bizarre!"

Earlier somewhere near the centre of the lake

Deep below the placid waters of the lake something was happening, deep, deep beneath the cold waves something was stirring, something that had lain still for a thousand years. The mud at the bottom of the lake, so far down that not even the sturdiest submersible could reach it, was stirring and bubbling, the blackish mixture of ash and other things was shifting. Back on the surface there was suddenly a development bubbles first small and then large rose to the surface, and then an enormous pillar of water some six hundred feet high rose up to the surface, the water infused with a dread greenish glow and all around it rose countless myriad bubbles each releasing a strange mist which spread with impossible speed across the lake.

Earlier, the shore of the lake

The youngsters had their servants produce a lovely outing the side of the lake was quite picturesque and indeed had been the source of many paintings, though often they were strangely disturbing. Looking at the lake you couldn't help but hear, perhaps on the wind, a soft whisper, a sound of something that wasn't there, but which every one on Erde knew, just knew, ought to be there, and for some reason the absence of this unidentifiable thing seemed like a crime against nature itself.

That however was not why the youngsters were here, by the side of the lake there was a large area relatively open, a primitive parking lot had been created here at the time that the macadam road was made. Now of course the parking lot was starting to be overgrown, here and there amazingly tenacious small trees had struck root, tufts of grass shooting up, but it was still a large open area and the side of the lake had a beach of sorts made up of small left over pebbles that had been dumped there at the end of the works.

The steamers were large touring cars with convertible roof tops that were currently open, the four servants were carefully removing various items from the back of the trunk whereas the joyful youth were sitting around on the large plaid blankets already sampling the wine and food they had brought along.

A couple of the more daring ones had already switched into swimming trunks, or for the ladies daring swimming outfits that actually revealed the ankles in a scandalous fashion. Only one of them though could make it all the way out to his waist, standing there he called to them "Come on in, it's great!"

"The waters too cold," his girlfriend called back "and it's slippery!" she added as she nearly fell over, she could feel the natural surface of the lakebed beneath her feet, all hard and glassy.

"Don't be such a baby, come on in!" he yelled back, then turning to his friends he added "Come on you lot then!"

Before he could add another word the green mist approached them with a speed so great that there wasn't even time to give an alarm or even to feel frightened, for one moment they saw it and before their lips could move a fraction of an inch the mists washed over them. As their lungs filled with the ætheric fumes they could see, suddenly see what ought to be there in the lake, for one brief moment the lake and its surroundings were right and the girlfriend whispered "it's beautiful!"

The one in the water, who took the brunt of the hit, seemed to float out of it, and they all began to hallucinate, some of them could stagger a bit before collapsing, throwing up and babbling insanely while bizarre visions flew before their eyes. The servants whose instincts were between flight and rescuing their masters, for their personal interest if not love, hesitated for a moment and then they too succumbed.

There was only one Barthelemy d'Varrenne who managed to stagger on madly, having lost his coat but not noticing only knowing he had to somehow walk up the road, somehow strike the alarm, somehow get help for his comrades all the while the trees, the ground, everything around him seemed to shift and lurch madly.

After a few minutes he caught up with Private Maurice, who after showing them the way had to walk back, Maurice had noticed some peculiar greenish fumes, much diluted by the time they reached him, and had doubled back. The sight of the young gentleman cured him of any curiosity, he grabbed him and managed to extract from him as much information as possible which was not much before they straggled back.

Present, the Ranger station

"It's coming closer Sir," Babineu cried.

"Fire flares!" Lieutenant Achard yelled "Fire flares soldiers! Do it quick!"

"What colour Sir!" Babineu returned, for they used an elaborate system of flare colours to help alert authorities to what precisely was happening.

"All of them! Fire all the colours and then every red flare we have!" Achard returned desperately, it was the kind of signal that would end your career if made in vain but it would have every resource of the Republic come to his rescue, or so he hoped.

One by one the flares shot up, drifting lazily through the air as the bright burning flares were visible, part due to the coloured smoke, even in the daytime. One by one, blue, yellow, white, and red, oh yes every red flare they had hung in the air desperately beckoning for help.

"What does the fog do?" Achard yelled again "How does it act?"

"Sticking to the ground sir, but coming here real fast!" Babineu yelled again.

For the first time in his life Lieutenant Achard made not only the right call, but a commendable one, "ATTENTION!" he yelled as he tore the door open "EVERYONE UP IN THE OBSERVATION TOWER ON THE DOUBLE!" he shouted at the confused men and woman within.

"YES SIR!" came the shout back as they grabbed the wounded, and in Bernadettes case the pot of stew, and rushed outwards and towards the ladder leading up into the tower.

"Not that!" Achard cried to Bernadette who still clutched her pot with the rabbit stew in it, when she hesitated he wrenched it away "Get the vinegar!" For that moment he was a true officer and heir to Nouveau Aquitaines proudest traditions, and everyone obeyed at once, even Bernadette who snatched the vinegar and the kettle of water she'd been heating.

One by one they climbed up, egged on by Babineus cries "Closer, damn it's only a mile away!" he almost screamed, there was a ragged fear in his voice the fear of a young man who had no idea what he was seeing and all he could do was fire the red flares.

By some means fair or foul they all reached the top a couple of minutes before the greenish fog rolled in, the fog ended some thirty feet or so beneath the top of the watchtower. All around them they could hear the animal sounds turning strange, birds chirping madly, larger animals groaning, and somehow the landscape seemed to alter.

There was nothing they could do other than to administrate vinegar and lukewarm water to the injured, making them throw up yet more greenish bile, but slowly they grew calmer and more lucid enough so that you needn't fear for their lives at least. Then they leaned against the wooden railings of the lounge, and waited, waited and prayed to whatever saint would intercede for them.

An hour later rescue came from above, an airship appeared above them and a rope ladder was thrown down, at the top of the ladder a young airshipman shouted down to them "climb up quick please! We can't tarry!"

BOSS Airship

The airship was not one of the largest ones, but it appeared quite fast and agile, what really spooked Lieutenant Achard and Sergeant Duguay was the colour a dark grey colour they'd never seen on any airship. The insignia on the airshipmans uniform removed any doubt B.O.S.S. but for once those dreaded four letters gave some comfort, for surely if anyone could handle this then it was the Bureau of State Security.

As they arrived they were rushed into a small lounge by the side of the ship, by chance or design they had an excellent view of the ground beneath them. The lounge was relatively sparse only some light bamboo furniture and wooden floors. Fortunately the airshipmen, young but very silent fellows, also brought blankets, dark grey ones, which they piled up to form mattresses that the sick could rest on.

Before Achard could ask any questions a pair of obvious officer entered, one tall and grey haired with Caduceus marks on his shoulder tabs, and another dark haired with piercing eyes who looked at them silently. Achard felt embarrassed that he wasn't wearing his Sunday Uniform, nevertheless he stood to attention and saluted "Second Lieutenant Etienne Achard, commanding Forrest Ranger Station #14 Crater Lake Section, I have three men in fighting form, one wounded, one wounded civilian, one slave, the three men of the days patrol are missing." Only now could he think of them, and even now, or back then, there had been nothing he could have done aside from fire those flares, but no doubt they'd been too far away.

"Medical Captain Laremme," the medical officer replied gently indicating the Caduceus on his shoulder tabs "I will heal your men," he said as he strode forward purposefully and knelt down next to them muttering arcane phrases as he places his hand on their chests.

The other officer also introduced himself "Lieutenant Holborne, lieutenant Achard please tell me everything that happened that might be of interest."

Achard was about to talk when suddenly Captain Laremmes eyes shot open and he took a deep breath "Holy Mother," he wheezed "so pure," then there was a green fire and everyone in the room felt a strange tingling sensation. The doctor was breathing heavily as he got up "I must say, this is the worst case of æther poisoning I've ever encountered," he whispered, but fortunately his charges were already stirring softly.

"God be praised," Achard whispered and crossed himself.

Duguay was already kneeling down next to Maurice stirring him "Come on now, stop malingering you lazy git!"

"Praise God later, if I may say so Lieutenant, this is urgent," Lt Holborne said "please tell me all you know."

Lt Achard was about to be offended, but then he realised who he was talking to and what was at stake "a party of young gentlemen and ladies by the lakeside, at the end of the macadam road, my lot patrolling an area maybe thirty miles east of here," he begun "green ætheric fog came in all of a sudden, that's all I know, but Private Babineu here was the look out and saw more, as would Maurice who rescued that other young gentleman."

Holborn nodded "Well your Sergeant seems to have Maurice in hand, Private Babineu please tell me what you saw?"

While this went on the wounded Bernadette was standing quietly in a corner, the bony woman apparently not sure what to make of herself just squirming slightly. For her being around BOSS was similar to being around the boogy man, for the slaves whispered stories about what happened to rebellious disobedient slaves that vanished into the deep dungeons of BOSS.

Martel felt uncomfortable with tending to recovering people, like many young men are, and no one had told him to do anything, so instead of saying or doing something he just leaned against a window and looked out when he realised something "we're moving towards the lake," he said in a low voice but everyone heard him.

"Come again," Achard said as he looked up "aren't we evacuating?" looking at the doctor he asked again "Sir, aren't we evacuating?"

"Monsieur Lieutenant we will make a pass or two over the lake first, we are so high up the fumes cannot threaten us, and perhaps we can rescue those youth or your men if we can see them."

Achard nodded to this not too keen on arguing, especially as what was said made a lot of sense, so instead he just looked out the window as he and Babineu answered questions.

The airship floated serenely through the air, beneath it the green mists were clearing up revealing the landscape beneath once more, as they passed over the lake for the first time they saw it. The clean clear lake had changed, or the surface had, for here enormous sheets of some greenish shimmering matter lay on top of it reflecting the light in strange ways. Etheric oil, almost unheard of amounts of it easily equal to the entire monthly production of the whole Republic.

Achard didn't realise the full extent of what he saw, but as the airship doubled back he saw a sight that practically froze his blood, some hundred yards away from the camping grounds there stood upon the water two figures, both of them wearing swim trunks but they were standing on the water itself greenish lights flickering of them and for some reason it felt so wrong. Then he saw the motionless bodies of the other youth and their slaves and suddenly he knew, he just knew that they were dead, all of them dead, even the two that were standing upright on the surface of the water. He reeled back from the window and felt his legs starting to give under him.

Holborn however could only mutter one thing "God in his heaven, how much Etheric oil is that? Where on Earth ..." here he saw wealth beyond his wildest dreams but he too realised that wherever it had come from was not a source known to any of their science.

Slowly the two youth on the water looked up at the airship, the people watching them felt disturbed, the youths eyes glowed green, a mad green glow and then their bodies slowly sank down into the lake and the spot was covered by an enormous sheet of greenish etheric oil.

Crater Lake
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
Friday 10 June 1005 NE

Lakeside

The Gendarmes had established a massive cordon around the entire lake area, not that curious seekers were particularly keen on going there to begin with. Inside this cordon Gendarme, Army and BOSS agents were scouring the area wearing heavy cumbersome gasmasks, they looked like strange insects with enormous long snouts leading to a box strapped onto their chest, and their only vision afforded by small portholes in the mask. Nevertheless the caution seemed necessary for they still found small pocket of etheric fumes caught in low laying areas.

By the lake side a headquarters of sorts had been established, a series of large pavilion tents had been raised on the very spot where the youths had perished. Indeed their bodies, with two exceptions, had only recently been removed and returned to their families for burial. The bodies of the slaves however remained in the care of BOSS where the mages were studying them with great interest.

Within the pavilion tents a series of mages were at work, both to keep any fumes from reaching the tents, and to investigate the various finds that had been made. However mages were not the only people present indeed BOSS agents were moving hither and yon, as well as a series of scientists and scholars quickly vetted and then brought over.

If you now entered one of the tents you would find that the floor was made up by wooden pallets, the mass produced kind that the army uses to cover the floors in their tents, and you'd also find that there were several large collapsible tables made from wood. On top of these tables lay whatever objects of interest had been recovered, large glass jars filled with formaldehyde or alcohol and in this liquid floated various organs or animals, but there were also cool metal trays where fresh samples had been placed, and bits and parts of rock and other things.

On a mobile metal table, brought here for that purpose since it has proper drainage for blood among other things, the scientists were dissecting the last of the slaves.

"Ether poisoning is bad in this case," Dr Morton said as he pulled back the eye lid "preservation near perfect, as in other such cases, but the eye has turned a purplish green consistent with actually ingesting ether in large quantities rather than simply breathing fumes." He peered closely at the anatomical structure, it never ceased to amaze him even though he understood it mainly from a magical perspective.

Dr Morton was the image of disinterested pathologist, in his late forties perhaps, clean shaven and his hair cut short to keep foul odours out, now he peered through his wire glasses at the strange sight before him. The corner of his lip turned down a bit as he studied the interior.

"What is wrong Dr," his assistant, Dr Miles, asked him.

Morton looked at his aides face "Nothing Miles, except, this is so wrong there's," he pulled up a muscle fibre "he is dead but parts of his body doesn't know," he held the muscle fibre with a set of pincers and the tissue was moving contracting and expanding slightly while held by the pincers.

"Good grief, more Sir?" Miles asked in a faintly disgusted tone of voice, and a slightly worried look on his face.

Morton placed the tissue in a metal bowl on a nearby table, right next to several other bowls where tissues removed from various creatures lay, he turned to look at them, a bowl containing the heart of a bird they had found; the tiny structure fluttered, beat, beat, beat, pumping air rather than blood and an eerie green glow filled it.

"Note, this is the first time we have found signs of human organs so suffused that they remain..." Morton wet his lips "active."

Outdoors

Mage Captain Joseph-Fabrice Huguelet felt queasy, the smell and taste of so much ether made him light headed, despite the spell he cast to give himself clean air while the others in his party had to struggle with the primitive gasmasks. Their boots were making crunching sounds in the pebble stone beach surrounding the lake, all of them breathing heavily as they clutched their SMLE rifles and peered nervously around expecting danger.

Looking ahead he reached out with his spells senses, there was something there, something glittering and very visible to the mage. "Sargeant, over there," he called as he motioned towards a strange object that was laying by the side of the lake, the cool slightly ether infused waters of the lake gently splashing over it.

The platoon rushed over to the spot, their boots sending up sprays of water and frightening some nearby birds that rose upwards with mournful cries as they fled towards a quieter and safer location. Whatever it was it was covered in hardened black ash of some sort, it was maybe two feet long and thick, at one end however there was a dull green glow.

"Cover me Sergeant," Captain Huguelet said as he knelt down next to the blackened object and poked at it with a stick, it shifted slightly and bits and parts of the ash fell off in flakes.

The platoon spread out around him, some aiming their rifles towards the lake, others half kneeling and aiming up at the forest, and of course the sergeant screwed open the top of one of his grenades and readied the detonator string removing it from the small hollow revealed by taking off the screw cap.

Huguelet leaned closer, curious, slowly he pulled out his service dagger and began to stab at it, whatever it was, the ash slowly yielded. Thus encouraged thus he grabbed the object, pleased he was wearing his black leather gloves, and slowly began to chip at the hardened ash, all while wondering why it would be so packed around this thing. Finally the ash gave away, indeed it seemed to crumble off all of a sudden revealing the thing within.

It was an arm, amazingly well preserved reminding him of stories he'd heard of peat corpses, the skin was coloured a dark blackish tone but he supposed this was probably due to the ashes. Touching it he was surprised to find the skin and flesh still pliable, but that wasn't so interesting as the fact that the hand attached as still firmly gripping a bright green geode looking like little less than a giant emerald, and placed on that hand was a signet ring with an amazingly intricate seal on it depicting diverse mystical and alchemical symbols.

Curious Huguelet reached out to grab the geode, but the hand was gripping it firmly and it was like struggling with someone still alive. "Damn it!" Huguelet cursed as he pulled more but at that very moment his glove was caught in the signet ring and somehow an opening was cut so that his bare skin touched the ring and the flesh around it. It was as if he had received an electric shock, his vision became much brighter for a moment, and then he saw something in the corner of his eye something strange.

Slowly he rose up, still clutching the arm, and in the distance a ghostlike image appeared over the lake, something glorious reaching for the skies, and a single word reached his mind "Quedlimburgi". There was a tug towards the lake but he gathered up the mental fortitude of his Gallic race, and the training he had as a mage and the tenuous power over him snapped. At that precise moment the arm he was holding went limp and the geode tumbled town to the ground rolling across the pebble shore.

Crater Lake
Nouveau Aquitaine
Erde
Tuesday 14 June 1005 NE

The former parkinglot

Every trace of the pavilion tents and their contents had been removed, instead a large pump, of the kind that is barely transportable, there were dull GH-dunk GH-dunk GH-dunk sounds coming from it as the pumps single piston, easily as thick as a mans leg, moved slowly and deliberately. From the pump a long thick hose, reinforced by metal rings, had been run out to the lake and it squirmed slightly as it pumped up the etheric oil from the top of the lake.

There was a stiff breeze blowing towards the pump, and the etheric oil on the surface of the lake was being pushed by the breeze towards the pump. The wind was of course magical, but it did the job well for Ether is by nature a light and flighty substance, especially as the wind was enhanced a bit to promote this purpose.

Surrounding the pump were a couple dozen workers, all of them slaves, wearing simple urine soaked rags around their mouths for protection against the fumes. Every now and again however one of them would collapse and begin to retch, and then be permitted a break of some hours, or perhaps be replaced altogether. There'd only been a handful of fatalities since the work begun and given the enormous amounts of ether involved this was considered acceptable.

Joseph Blondet was one of the workers struggling there, or just Joseph as he was always called, maybe Joseph EE62625 if he was in trouble or was being moved. He was much like the others in that he was quite stout, standing maybe 5'11" tough sinewy frame since despite hard work he never got quite enough food to bulk up. Dirty blonde hair quite stringy and matted with sweat, and blue eyes too, the sweat made his shirt stick to his body and he couldn't sing or speak too much without needing to spit.

"'Allo David," Joseph called to one of his buddies as they dragged the second large hose extending from the pump.

David nodded back, they couldn't see each others faces under the heavy rags covering their mouths, "Hello Joseph," he replied.

They struggled for a while with the heavy rubber hose but eventually got it up to the tanker lorry standing there. Joseph struggled up on top of the tanker and attached his hose screwing it on hard with a thick spanner, some of the etheric oil leaked and soaked his hands making them slippery and they felt so damn peculiar when he got in touch with it, and his head was so woozy. Finally though he had it on and gave a thumbs up signal, at once the hose began to shake as the enormous amounts of Etheric oil were pumped into the tanker lorry.

Over and over this ritual would repeat itself tanker lorry after tanker lorry arrived, and woe betide those who slowed it down for there was so much etheric oil, quantities basically unheard of from even the richest Helvetian fields.

Towards the end of the day as the sun was setting and dusk spread Joseph knelt down for a moment, his shoulders ached, his hand ached, his face ached from the drying urine from his frequently soaked cloth. For a moment her raised his head, letting the winds cool him for just one brief moment, and as he gazed up towards the sky he saw an airship in dark grey colours drift serenely by What would it be like to be up there with the Quality, and have my aching body healed and good wine to drink? he pondered before slowly struggling back on his feet and making his way back to the Quarters fortunately built some full four miles away from the cursed lake.

The Airship

The airship was a safe sanctuary high above the lake and the fumes that still floated over it, here deep inside the BOSS airship there were many powerful binoculars and other instruments allowing them an excellent view of the surroundings. The colour of the ship allowed it to seemingly blend in with the sky, and the engines were very silent too.

Within there was a large observation lounge, ordinarily this would be quite sparse but this one was furnished in a most luxurious fashion. There were carpets on the floor, apparently thick wood panelling covered the walls, and elegant paintings had been hung there. If not for the enormous windows dominating the front of the room, and the mounted binoculars and telescopes there, it could have been taken for a small parlour or maybe a drawing room.

Standing over by the windows there were four people, a woman apparently of high birth and with a firm demeanour suggesting someone who was used to being obeyed. Then there were three men too, two of them elderly gentlemen with an air of authority, but the third was a younger man in a military uniform namely Captain Huguelet.

"My Lord there is a lot of it," Graham Burlington, the Minister of Finance, announced in a low voice as he watched the enormous miles wide green sheet of etheric oil that covered the lake.

Lady de Vincour smiled a little "Indeed Minister, how much did you say again? A full months production?" her tone of voice was the same that she'd use if she was discussing the wheat crop of Varrenne.

"You said you had some idea of how it happened Lady de Vincour," Burlington said.

"Why indeed Minister, which is why I brought Sir Edwin and Captain Huguelet, both of whom have some insights that I thought you should hear," she informed him pleasantly.

"Quite, I see, most grateful Lady de Vincour," Burlington said as he turned to the pair "Of course we've met before Sir Edwin," he said as they shook hands again.

"Delighted minister," the famed scientist replied.

"Minister, allow me to introduce to you Mage Captain Huguelet of the Army thaumaturgy corps; Captain let me introduce you to Minister of Finance Graham Burlington," Lady de Vincour said as she handled the introductions as smoothly as possible.

After this Captain Huguelet began to inform the Minister of the strange and frightful tale of what had occurred on that beech on the fateful day that he found the seal and the geode. A strange chill travelled up the Ministers spine as he heard the tale, and at the end he shuddered "I've heard many a tale of this city," he admitted "yet how could this vision survive through the centuries?" he asked no one in particular.

"Our world is suffused with magic Minister, and when there is great death, and great misfortune," as Lady de Vincour spoke she held up the signet ring recovered of the arm "and a truly great man dies, or many great men and women, then that part of them that is immortal, that part of them which rebels against death and always, always, seeks to overcome to endure, it remains and when the ether came those thoughts and memories came to the fore. I also think that he was casting a spell at the moment of his death, but I cannot say what it was, only that it was powerful, I think that too may have left enough of an impression to cause this."

"You speak of mysteries, and magic, and, forgive me, hokums Lady de Vincour!" Minister Burlington burst out "With all due respect Milady, is there nothing tangible, nothing real, nothing... I can take to Parliament?"

"I hope that you find my abilities real Minister," Lady de Vincour said in a soft sweet voice "for I can assure you that whether ivory tower intellectuals believe or not it is most real."

"I meant no offence Lady de Vincour of course," Burlington was quick to correct himself, suddenly feeling oddly worried that he had gone too far.

"Of course not Minister, perish the thought," Lady de Vincour replied, then graciously she motioned at Sir Edwin "I believe this man of science has something to say."

"What? Oh yes! Of course Minister" Sir Edwin begun, he motioned his hand quickly "Jones come here at once!" he called out, and at once dark haired footman arrived, a stony expression on his face, he was carrying a large leather bound book.

As the footman arrived Sir Edwin began to turn the pages, all the while the footman held the book up and open acting as a bookrest, after a few moments they came to a stop as Sir Edwin motioned towards an apparently ancient illustration of the kind that monks had laborious copied by hand for centuries.

"Is that real Sir Edwin?" Burlington asked absentmindedly as he studied the illustration, it was a cut away picture of a city revealing impossibly tall buildings at top connected by interlocking walkways and bridges on all levels. It was in a way stunningly beautiful, but beneath the city there was also an elaborate system copied also in great detail, but filtered through a Dark Age view point.

"No Minister, it's ah, it's a copy made using a new method of replicating books," Sir Edwin explained.

Burlington frowned "No Sir Edwin you misunderstand, I mean a real medieval map, or a copy of a real one."

"Yes Minister, that it is, and look here," Sir Edwin pointed to a section beneath the city "I believe these are fuel tanks, enormous Etheric oil tanks stored deep beneath the city, next to protective shelters, and when the Final Day came then it sealed it up beneath the glassy material that covers the bottom of the lake, but..." he tapped the area marking the etheric oil storage "it leaked out slowly, creating cracks in the bottom and then finally it burst. That at least is our working hypothesis based on the evidence, including the testimony of Captain Huguelet here."

Burlington let his hand caress the page where the saw the drawing "Good grief," he swallowed deeply, then he composed himself "well Milady, Sir Edwin, it would appear that there is no hope of additional ether from the lake?"

"No Minister," Sir Edwin replied "unless of course another tank springs a leak, which is always possible if somewhat unlikely."

"Indeed Minister, but there could be other things," Lady de Vincour said as she touched the window slowly leaning against it as she peered down at the lake "there are bound to be more at the bottom of the lake, for see..." she pointed down at it where a patch of it was turning black "La Noir, the Black River will run soon, once more the outlet of the Lake will be black as the night, and you know the people will talk even more when that happens."

Burlington sighed "Yes Milady de Vincour I know, but I can tell Parliament about the storage tank, and the Prime Minister will, I believe, support me, as for this," he motioned at the lake "surely security belongs to the Gendarmes and the Bureau of State Security, you do what you must Milady."

"Thank you Minister, do you speak for the Prime Minister too?" she asked carefully.

Burlington just nodded "The decision is made, but try to, well, make it seem subtle."

"Of course, just telling the truth about the gas can justify much right now," Lady de Vincour announced.

"Now I must leave, I have most urgent business in the Capital," Burlington announced.

Lady de Vincour nodded "Do not worry you will get there in time, this ship is swift, very swift."

The airship changed direction and the engine pods fired up, the propellers going faster and faster as the airship moved away from the lake and towards the Pendleton Arcepelago, leaving the perfectly round Crater Lake and whatever might lurk beneath it behind them, as the sun slowly went beneath the horizon leaving the lake bathed in its own pale green light.

Burlington would go on to present his findings to Parliament, and some more disturbing findings to the Cabinet, and then during his important meeting he would acquire a small almost trifling loan from the Royal Bank. Yet somehow he was gravely troubled by what he had seen and heard, and it gnawed on him, for like all Pendletonians he knew that something ought to be there that wasn't.

Sitting on an ornate chair in her Chateau the High Worshipful Mistress, the Lady Angelica de Vincour, apparently an innocent Librarian type but secretly the most powerful mage on all of Erde, sat still and studied a strange signet ring. As she held it she could hear the whispered words imbued in it, the last words of a lost world, and one thought one desire suffused them all APOTHEOSIS! Strange that so little could frighten someone so powerful, but she had enough power and wisdom to know what there was to fear.

Change was coming, some of it good, some of it not, but it was coming...