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[lawastooshort]

Chapter One Part Thirteen
 
He Passes Out From The Pain.
 

Cartwheel over to my grounded top hat, put it on, then remark at the German's caddishness for using such a foul and unfair tactic.

As the fratricidal German raises his entrenching tool menacingly next to the smouldering barn, Wellington cartwheels gracefully past him, dodging the swinging blow [4]. Bewildered, the German turns round to face his foe, only to see Wellington pick up his hat and place it stylishly upon his noble head [3+1]. He admonishes his opponent for using such a foul and unfair tactic [6+1] and, to his surprise, the German replies.

“Terribly sorry old chap, I should have known better. Spent a year at Eton in my youth don’t you know. Father was a diplomat, God rest his soul. Please, let us fight a duel by way of an apology. Do you wish to choose your weapon?”

Gentlemanliness Increased! Saving an opponent from his own caddishness!

Find some cables. Or anything on the controls that are easily detachable, take some time to repair, and can't be spotted at first glance. Detach them.

Floating serenely above the battlefield on board the LZ1, Link searches around for an easily concealable method of sabotaging the airship [5]. He fumbles about under the steering wheel and finds what appears to be a wire connecting the steering wheel to the rudders at the back of the ship. Indeed, when he pulls the wire from underneath, the steering wheel turns a little. Experimentation complete, he discreetly rips it out [3]. That should take the blighters some time to put right, he thinks to himself with no small measure of contentment. Nothing awry is visible from where he stands in the wicker command post.

Call for medical aid, and shoot the rope connecting the zeppelin to the ground.

Nothing awry, that is, other than his companion McGeenyton firing upon the craft to which Link finds himself attached! The Englishman, still on the floor over 70 yards away, shoots his revolver at one of the two ropes connecting the airship to the earth, but the bullets whiz past under the massive craft with no effect [2]. Feeling and restraining a strong urge to use moderately vulgar language, McGeenyton calls out for some medical aid [3]. To his dismay, no medical professionals are present on the battlefield, and none come to his assistance. He wonders if he should just get up and address the problem with a stiff upper lip.

 
 

Chase after the Germans, get a rock to hit in their direction if there is one, or try to catch and attack them with my walking bat stick if there are no rocks.

Back in the centre of the struggle and in the shadow of the colossal airship, Smith spots the German spy and his two chaperones fleeing from the outhouse as the neighbouring barn finishes exploding into smoke and dust. He searches about the ground to find a rock to hit in the direction of the fleeing trio [6], and happens to find a perfectly rounded half brick, shaped almost exactly like a sharpened base cricket ball!

Imbued with the spirit of a great English cricketer, Smith tosses the half brick into the air, and a little before it touches the earth he uses his walking bat stick to half volley it with tremendous force towards the three fleeing men [6]. The stony missile flies at a lethal speed towards the rightmost German, and seems to fly right through the unfortunate man! His head is severed! The German topples over! His head flies off at a grotesque angle as the half brick continues on its deathly path towards the Zeppelin. There is a blood spatter upon the ground.

Several yards furhter on, the half brick slices through the rearmost rope that was until seconds ago keeping the Zeppelin tied securely in place. With a near silent twang of a sound, the rope breaks clean in two.
 
The Zeppelin, now moored with only one rope, starts to shift about in the wind. The remaining rope creaks under the strain in the frosty cold night, barely holding the five hundred foot airship in place as it starts to struggle in the breeze.


Von Hildebrand and the Zeppelin captain, leaving behind their fallen companion, flee towards the captain’s airship and the spy’s escape.  Von Hildebrand easily outpaces the portly officer and sees the last rope secure and taut connecting the Zeppelin to the ground, shining like a ropey beacon in the moonlight.

With contraband briefcase dangling from his left wrist, he makes an athletic leap as high as he can up the rope, and begins to shimmy his way up like some cunning Germanic circus performer, ignoring the increasingly strong movement of the dirigible. He pulls himself over the edge of the wicker basket just as he notices below him a sprinting gentleman tear towards the German flight engineers, apparently wielding some form of Scottish and lethal weapon.

He hauls himself to his feet, and comes face to face with Link. Von Hildebrand sees through his disguise immediately.

“I say. Who the ruddy heck are you sir?”

Run as fast as I can to the flying box and proceed to beat the crap out of the Germans with the bowling-ball-on-a-chain.

Underneath von Hildebrand, Link, and the Zeppelin’s protesting rope, the bloodthirsty Scottish fiend Wallace runs as fast as he can towards the three German flight engineers who were readying the craft [4], swirling the bowling-ball-on-a-chain about his head as he charges in a berserker frenzy. The Germans see him approach; they stop their preparatory tasks and draw their revolvers from their pockets, taking aim to shoot just as Wallace crashes uncontrollably into their midst like a tailored chain wielding tsunami.
 
He strikes first at the German on the right [6]! The bowling-ball-on-a-chain decapitates his victim entirely! The head goes flying away like a medieval golf ball, careening wildly into the back end of the Zeppelin, which now slowly starts turning clockwise, as if to describe a circle with the foremost basket, Mr John Link, and the German spy at its central point. The headless German is struck down!
 
Wallace, still twirling like a bowling dervish, smashes into the second German and connects fully with his chest [5], sending him flying back several dozen feet. He is in great pain! He is struck down! There is a blood spatter upon the ground!
 
As Wallace continues to turn like a deathly whirlpool of tartan inspired wrath, the third German engineer manages to hold his aim long enough at this spinning madman to fire off a shot, shooting the Scot in the leg. He is gravely wounded! He continues to spin! In his bloodcurdling rage he tries to subdue the offending German with his bowling-ball-on-a-chain, but as he turns to spin in his opponent's direction his leg gives way and he trips horribly, tumbling to the ground [1-1].
 
Alas, the bowling-ball-on-a-chain does not stop its rotational dance of death, and it impacts with frightful force upon the icy ground and is stuck within. Carried on by the awful momentum, Wallace ceases temporarily to be a Scot; he briefly becomes a Scot-on-a-chain, before being catapulted away and flung violently into the air [1].

Somersaulting gracefully through the night sky, he flies with considerable force into the remaining rope tethering the Zeppelin [1]. The force of the blow tears the rope from its mooring, and the Zeppelin starts to drift gently into the air, continuing its clockwise orbit, as Thomas Wallace falls limply to the ground.
 
He passes out from the pain!
 
Wound Acquired! Shattered Thigh! Severe Difficulty Standing!
Item Lost! Bowling-ball-on-a-chain!
Wound Acquired! Particularly Bad Whiplash! Unpleasant Headache!
Wound Acquired! Injured Spine! Difficulty Moving!
Wound Acquired! Broken Left Arm! Unable to Hold Objects!
Wound Acquired! Broken Right Arm! Unable to Hold More Objects!
Wound Acquired! Damaged Skull!
Wound Acquired! Bruised Brain!
Wound Acquired! Unconscious!
Wound Acquired! Struck Down!
Wound Acquired! Deceased!

Caddishness Increased! Grotesque Public Display of Emotion (subcategory: bloodcurdling rage)
Gentlemanliness Increased! Sacrifice for King and Country

Overcome pain and shock for the Glory of the Empire, then wield umbrella and charge one of the men untying the zeppelin. The rope position must be taken and held!

Not far away, von Fersen witnesses this horrible scene, and vows to overcome the pain and shock afflicting him in order to secure the airship for the Empire, hoping to reconnect the escaping rope. He succeeds admirably, feeling an incredible Imperial strength coursing through his veins [6]. He charges the German who shot Wallace, brandishing his umbrella with the ferocious calmness of a man used to the carnage of battle and the glory of victory. The German turns to face him, and he shoots at the instant von Fersen strikes with his deadly umbrella. The German pulls the trigger; the gun jams! Von Fersen attempts to run him through with his improvised weapon but despite his Imperially inspired strength he fails to wound his opponent, striking ineffectively [2+1].


As von Fersen and the German circle each other warily, von Fersen too busy to try to secure the dangling ropes, the captain of the Zeppelin, left behind by von Hildebrand, realises his airship is escaping him, and is running desperately after it. Catching up, he tries to jump up to the trailing rearmost mooring rope, but fails to get a handhold, and crashes to the floor.

He gets to his knees as he sees the still turning Zeppelin rise beyond reach with von Hildebrand and Link aboard, and shakes his fists in the air, howling in German.

“Damn you, you English Pig dogs! Damn your eyes! My ship! My ship! My beloved ship…”



Clarity Spoiler

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The spy and the blueprints are aboard the Zeppelin with John Link. It has broken free from its moorings and is adrift about fifty feet up in the air. Link has sabotaged its steering. The engine is not running and it is turning slowly clockwise.

Von Fersen is in combat with the last German flight engineer. The other two were smashed to death by Wallace.

McGeenyton is still on the ground some distance away, and Winston Smith is around 25 yards away from the German airship captain having successfully taken out one of the Germans with a half brick.

Not far from Smith, Wellington has just been challenged to a duel by an apologetic German.

Mr Thomas Wallace has passed away in the service of the King.

[Darvi]

Okay, now at least they cannot get away. Mission fucking accomplished so far.

[scriver]

Oh, poor, poor Wallacr. That's... Ridiculous amount of bad luck. Though of course... I told you this would happen! The Dice has turned against us!

[Firelordsky]

OMGWTFBBQ what happened?

Anyways, I'll put up my waiting list character in the afternoon.

[lawastooshort]

18th January 1906, London


Dear Mrs Wallace,

I am terribly sorry to inform you of your son’s tragic death in the service of the King.

He was an extraordinarily brave young man, noted among his peers for his excellent and heroic ability to lead charges against the enemy.

I hereby attempt, using the testimony of his closest colleagues, to recreate the events leading up to his horrific departure from this world.

It appears that he was in pursuit of an enemy of the realm who was intent on bringing great misfortune to the British Empire. Leading the charge with no thought of his own personal safety, he valiantly struck down two superiorly armed opponents to break the enemy’s line. Seeing the attendants to the enemy’s dastardly war machine preparing it for use, he attempted to engage them in personal combat in order to prevent the functioning of the aforementioned war machine.

Having lost his Mighty Claymore, he charged at the enemy equipped only with a bowling-ball-on-a-chain and his honour. He swung this first weapon about his head, and as the enemy attempted to shoot him down he slew first one and then a second. Unfortunately the enemy’s numbers were too great; he was shot in the leg sustaining a grievous wound, having completely failed to dodge the enemy bullet.

The bowling-ball-on-a-chain he swirled about his head, braining his enemies to the left and to the right, was of considerable mass. As Mr Wallace stumbled and fell after sustaining this leg wound, the bowling-ball-on-a-chain continued to turn, and slammed forcefully into the ground. It became stuck. Unfortunately he was still attached, and was propelled into the air on the other end of the bowling-ball-on-a-chain, whereupon the physical pain must have become too great, for his grip loosened, and he was flung off into the air.

At considerable height he struck the enemy war machine and fell, tumbling many feet to the ground where he landed with a sickening thud. He succumbed to his injuries at the scene.

I know that it may not afford you a great deal of comfort in this moment of loss, but it has been recounted to me that your son’s brave, heroic, and extraordinarily unlucky death was both quick and painless. Mr Wallace was perhaps our most gentlemanly of gentlemen, and as such I shall be writing to both the Prime Minister and the King himself to recommend him for a posthumous Knighthood.

I can only express my deepest condolences from both me and Mr Wallace’s gentlemanly colleagues.

Yours sincerely,


Sir William Melville

[Zako]

Darvi, you do realise that the guy WITH THE PLANS is on the zep with you? And if he fixes the steering, he can get away with the plans. STOP HIM! USE GENTLEMANLY FISTICUFFS!

EDIT: And on that note, I finally get round to posting my character sheet!

Name: Charles Cavendish
Nationality: English of course, old chap!
Relation: Why surely you know of my brother, a famous boxing champion? His gentlemanly ways are spoken of throughout the country!
Skill: Practiced boxer (+1 to fisticuffs)
Trait: Stiff upper lip (Reduction to bodily damage)
Item: A Napkin.

Bio: A tall and muscled man of grand stature, Charles has a square jaw, dark brown hair, large meaty hands with calloused knuckles, a finely curled mustache of the proper style which is family tradition and is judged by many ladies to be somewhat ruggedly handsome. He wears a tailoured Saville Row suit, of course only the true gentlemen wear such suits, and a top hat when he is outside. His brother is the famous gentleman, Lawence Cavendish, a champion boxer who has held the title for 3 years running and tutored his younger brother to take the title later in life. After a boxing duel with a gang of caddish robbers who were troubling a pair of ladies, he was picked up by MIG for such gentlemanly conduct.

[scriver]

And moreover, the zeppelin has been unfastened, and is slowly drifting away in the air - possibly out towards the Canal, with no way of steering it unless you manage to repair it?

Also, action, now that I'm back on my computer:
Oh, William, I hardly knew ye! Quite literally even, seeming as it was just a few hours ago we met. Nonetheless! Your demise shall be avenged! Fall upon the German with righteous fury with the umbrella, or if all else fails just attempt to wrestle him down.

Also, later, add a few verses to poem in honour of Wallace. He might not have been as faithful a companion as the pipe, but he did have his uses.

[areyoua]

Again? Time to join the England Cricket Team...

Poor Wallace. Less foreign than I, but no less a man.

Look around, if there are no Germans other than the one from Etin, which I think there aren't, carry Wallace in a dignified fashion to a place more appropriate to a gentleman of his caliber. Then pick up my hat. If there are Germans, tell them they can't possibly imagine that getting themselves killed would be of any use now that the Zeppelin is in the air, and hope they surrender.

[Firelordsky]

I sent you thy sheet you asked for my liege.

[Darvi]

Talk to the chap carrying the plans around. Prepare to engage in fisticuffs if he starts acting hostile.
"Ich würde mal sagen dass es schlecht aussieht. Die Steuerung ist außer Gefecht gesetzt, es gibt also keine Möglichkeit um noch großartig irgendwo hin zu kommen.
Reich mir die Pläne rüber die du mit dir rumträgst. Ich hab eine Idee."

[_DivideByZero_]

Prepare for a duel!

[Geen]

Shed a single tear for our beloved fallen comrade, and avenge him by killing the Germans.

[lawastooshort]

Chapter One Part Fourteen

In the aftermath of Mr Thomas Wallace's sad death, the remaining gentlemen show no visisble emotional reaction, for they are gentlemen.

And yet - reaction there is! The fall of the noble Scot inspires his surviving fellow gentlemen to ever greater acts of gentlemanry, greater even than those that they have perpetrated thus far, the first of which is von Fersen's righteous and furious vengeance on the German whose wounding shot led to Wallace's premature demise.

Fall upon the German with righteous fury with the umbrella, or if all else fails just attempt to wrestle him down.
Also, later, add a few verses to poem in honour of Wallace. He might not have been as faithful a companion as the pipe, but he did have his uses.

As the German and the poetry-composing Swede circle each other against the backdrop of the smoking ruins of the barn, von Fersen temporarily lets slip his mask of cool control as the effects of the loss of an acquaintance, one half of his vision, and, dearest of all, his finest pipe accumulate and express themselves in one deadly umbrella thrust [5]. Taken unawares by this sudden and accurate fury, the German is run through! His spleen is bruised! He is struck down, and Wallace, in part, is avenged. Von Fersen brushes down his evening jacket to re-establish  a minimum of decorum and redirects his mental and emotional energy to his memorial ode.

"Alas, poor Wallace," he begins to himself, before pausing for further inspiration. "Not exactly a pipe, but still with some utility; you helped to save your king; you death was not mere futility"

Von Fersen nods to himself, considering the remainder of his composition.

Poor Wallace. Less foreign than I, but no less a man.

Look around, if there are no Germans other than the one from Eton, which I think there aren't, carry Wallace in a dignified fashion to a place more appropriate to a gentleman of his caliber. Then pick up my hat. If there are Germans, tell them they can't possibly imagine that getting themselves killed would be of any use now that the Zeppelin is in the air, and hope they surrender.

There are two Germans left upon the field of battle - Wellington's duellist, and the despairing Zeppelin captain - a navy commander of thirty years who had dreamed since his earliest childhood of going down with his ship if ever he met defeat.

As Winston Smith approaches him, hoping that he can understand English well enough to be captured, the captain rises. He draws his sword, and offers it hilt forwards in surrender. He has nothing left to fight for; his ship is lost; his dreams shattered.

Shed a single tear for our beloved fallen comrade, and avenge him by killing the Germans.

But! As the captain draws his sword to surrender, out of nowhere there appears the until recently terribly wounded Henry McGeenyton, who, having seemingly recovered from his incapacitating light left hip wound, rushes belatedly to the centre of the battlefield.

Sword drawn and revolver unholstered, he charge the only German he sees: the surrendering Zeppelin commander.  Shedding a single tear [5], he raises his sword to strike the commander of his fellow gentleman's slayer, and trips over some fallen rubble from the demolished barn [1]! He flies headlong into the dirt,and as he picks himself up he sees Winston Smith accept the German's sword in surrender.

McGeenyton stands up, simultaneously realising his error, cursing his apparently inferior footway that keeps bringing him crashing to the ground, and offering out his hand to the German.

"I say," he says. "Mr Henry McGeenyton at your service. I believe you are my colleague's prisoner? Good show old boy."

Ungentlemanly disaster is averted.

As a condition of his surrender, Smith obliges the captain to help the two gentlemen move Wallace's body in a dignified manner [5] to an appropriate resting place. The captain informs them of a small cart he had been using as a dining table in the outhouse an hour before - they take Wallace there, clear the cart, and lay the body upon it and cover it with a clean white sheet. As befits a gentleman, he is laid to temporary rest with honour and respect.

Prepare for a duel!

Whilst the other surviving earthbound German, his captain, formally surrenders, Gunther Stoph - for that is his name - is preparing for a duel with the noble Englishman William Wellington. They both agree that circumstances dictate that the duel should be fought immediately, before any officers of the law are attracted by the recent loud explosion of the barn and attempt to put a stop to their gentlemanly dispute.

"My good sir," Stoph enquires. "You may choose the weapon with which we fight. Do we duel to the death? To first strike? Or to first severe and indescribably unpleasant wound which allows us no longer to fight?"

Talk to the chap carrying the plans around. Prepare to engage in fisticuffs if he starts acting hostile.
"Ich würde mal sagen dass es schlecht aussieht. Die Steuerung ist außer Gefecht gesetzt, es gibt also keine Möglichkeit um noch großartig irgendwo hin zu kommen und deine Mutter ist ein Schwein!
Reich mir die Pläne rüber die du mit dir rumträgst. Ich hab eine Idee. Nicht wirklich, sie riecht nach faulendem Fisch!"

Floating far from serenely - indeed, they are vigourously buffeted by the rising wind -  above these tremendous and moving mutual displays of gentlemanship, John Link is alone with von Hildebrand, the German spy - and the precious blueprints in the airship's control basket. He starts, in German, to try to persuade the spy to give him the plans but his language skills go heroically and incompetently awry in the heat of action [1]! Not in the least bit persuaded, in every bit enraged and insulted, the German draws his dagger and lunges forward. But the spy is so angry that, as he moves in on Link to avenge his mother's honour and Link sidesteps briskly out of harm's way, he loses balance in the rocking wicker basket.

Von Hildebrand slips; he tumbles forward; he regains his footing again as he falls against the walls of the basket.

And at that moment, a sudden gust of wind causes the Zeppelin to lurch horribly to one side, and von Hildebrand, with a cry, is thrown overboard.

Dusting his hands together, Link walks carefully over to where the German has just disappeared. Both hands on the parapet of the wicker control basket, he leans over, only to see the spy clinging desperately on to the basket with one hand, still clasping the briefcase in the other. Abandoning his faulty German, Link addresses him in English above the roar of the wind.

"I say old bean!" he calls out. "What on earth are you doing down there?"

[Darvi]

What the fuck is up with the quote-manipulation?

[lawastooshort]

What the fuck is up with the quote-manipulation?

A [1].