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Daigoro · 11-22-2016, 04:47 PM

Answer to Question 39- The North Sea Pyramid
Responding to the sound of loud, repeating blows, Sir Adrian came rushing into His Lordship's office to find Lord Buggsbury in a rather agitated state. He was clutching a willow bokken and wearing his white kendo armour, which was embroidered excessively with gold brocade and his Earldom of Devon coat of arms.* At his feet were the remnants of the pneumaphone, now a battered, splintered mess, while a thin whine of steam emitted from the adjacent wall panel.

"Allow me to be so brazen, m'lord, but Your Lordship appears to be in somewhat of a dander. Is there anything with which I may assist?" ventured Sir Adrian.

"This wretched contraption was making an infernal racket, Sir Adrian. It was all I could do to stop it!"

"By racket, m'lord, would that perhaps be its whistle, like a kettle on the stove?"

"'Twas more akin to a Siren's wail, good man, than a kettle!"

"Ah, my apologies, m'lord. That was merely one of the pneumaphone's modalities of operation. It was drawing attention to the presence of a remote caller desiring to speak, m'lord."

"In my day, Sir Adrian, speakers wishing to speak would speak! With their mouths! Not by coded tin-whistles!"

"Indeed, m'lord. Yet society changes apace…"

"Now who was it then desiring to speak?"

"As the connection was redirected to my quarters, I can state unequivocally that the speaker was the Swedo-Norwegian Ambassador."

"Gustav's man?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Calling to apologise, I should well expect."

"Erm… apologise, m'lord?"

"Of course! Over this North Sea debacle. It's all over the daily lithograms. Have you not seen them? Skirmishing over this pyramid of the ages, my word! Why am I the last to hear of such foreign conflict?"

"The vernacular press, m'lord? I tend to avoid it."

"Finger on the pulse, Sir Adrian, the pulse of the common man. One likes to keep oneself grounded, in touch with the man on the street."

"I do not doubt that at all, Your Lordship. However, one might find that tales of an ancient pyramid on the bed of the North Sea are somewhat of a… fabrication, m'lord. Penny dreadful stuff, I'm afraid."

Lord Buggsbury almost spluttered as he picked up a sheaf of broadsheet papers from his bureau, "This? All this? A fabrication? It's front page! The Free Times, the Celtic Bugle, the Royal Holdings' Cryer… an entire company of the Scots Guards Specialised Infantry… pitched battles… It's the tomb of a pharaoh's daughter, Scota, they say, exiled from Egypt and first queen of the Gaels..."

"Heady stuff, I'm quite sure, m'lord."

Buggsbury continues to scan for quotes, "… 900 foot tall, sitting all of 100 foot below the sea surface… twice the Great Pyramid of Giza… 8th Wonder of the Ancient World… Norwegian blood spilt…"

"Indeed, m'lord, but all quite impossible. The North Sea is but 300 feet deep, so this pyramid would stand two-thirds of its bulk above the surface. And if it were some 16 fathoms below the surface, this is one of the world's busiest shipping lanes, m'lord. A fishing trawler would be catching their net on it every Tuesday. It could not possibly have just now been discovered. Besides all of which, m'lord, we hardly have a whole company equipped with Holland's Bathyphilic Walkers. I understand there to be a couple of platoons, at the most."

Buggsby suddenly gave Sir Adrian's countenance an uncharacteristically shrewd appraisal, "You seem to be rather well-versed on the obscure topic of North Sea geology, Sir Adrian. Would you perhaps have some… deeper… involvement in this matter?"

Sir Adrian, almost imperceptibly, shifted uncomfortably. "None… that I would care to admit to, m'lord."

"I see, this is intriguing. So there are no Scots Guards?"

"Not quite, m'lord. More of a discretionary group, shall we say, who may have borrowed some equipment. But I am at a loss as to where this pyramid story arose. Nonetheless, m'lord, nothing of consequence occurred in the region. All is quite well."

"A discretionary force, Sir Adrian?"

"Indeed, m'lord, I know nothing more."

Buggsbury banged the point of his bokken into the hardwood floor, startling Sir Adrian ever so slightly. "Jolly good! Wonderful news. Now then, what did he want?"

"Your pardon, m'lord?"

"The ambassador! You came here to inform me of his communiqué! So, proceed! What was its content?"

"Ah, yes, of course, m'lord. His Excellency merely wanted to extend an invitation to suggest some British candidates to the Gustav V Academy, m'lord, for their annual prize ceremony. The Sir Alfred Nobel Prize for Excellence in Machinery Arts and Engineering, m'lord, presented to the greatest such thinkers and artists from around the globe."

"Indeed, the highest calling, think you not? Advancing the common good? Well, the British Empire shan't be seen to be lacking on the world stage, Sir Adrian. Unacceptable. Hence you should form a committee, make a short list, send me a report. And make sure that good fellow John Holland gets a look in, eh? Where would we be without his genius, eh?"

"Indeed, m'lord."

"And perhaps that astute fellow who put together this pneumaphone system. It does seem awfully clever."

"Actually an Italian gentleman, as I understand, m'lord. We just adapted the design. However, I shall make preparations forthwith."

"Very good, very good. Now, if I may, I shan't be late for my lessons with Lord Sensei Cumberland-Furroughs. He's as likely as not to have me in seiza for the whole class, and my knees are quite brittle, if I may say. My thanks, Sir Adrian, dismissed!"

"Yes, m'lord."

*For kendo, as well as a number of other Japanese traditions, had been wholly embraced by British society since discourse between the countries began at the end of the 18th century.

Question 48
Which tinkerers and inventors would we see on the short-list for the Sir Alfred Nobel Prize for Excellence in Machinery Arts and Engineering? Who are five famous gadgeteers and what are they known for?

11-22-2016, 04:47 PM	#90
Daigoro Join Date: Dec 2006 Location: Meifumado	Re: [Game] Work Up a Steampunk Setting Answer to Question 39- The North Sea Pyramid Responding to the sound of loud, repeating blows, Sir Adrian came rushing into His Lordship's office to find Lord Buggsbury in a rather agitated state. He was clutching a willow bokken and wearing his white kendo armour, which was embroidered excessively with gold brocade and his Earldom of Devon coat of arms.* At his feet were the remnants of the pneumaphone, now a battered, splintered mess, while a thin whine of steam emitted from the adjacent wall panel. "Allow me to be so brazen, m'lord, but Your Lordship appears to be in somewhat of a dander. Is there anything with which I may assist?" ventured Sir Adrian. "This wretched contraption was making an infernal racket, Sir Adrian. It was all I could do to stop it!" "By racket, m'lord, would that perhaps be its whistle, like a kettle on the stove?" "'Twas more akin to a Siren's wail, good man, than a kettle!" "Ah, my apologies, m'lord. That was merely one of the pneumaphone's modalities of operation. It was drawing attention to the presence of a remote caller desiring to speak, m'lord." "In my day, Sir Adrian, speakers wishing to speak would speak! With their mouths! Not by coded tin-whistles!" "Indeed, m'lord. Yet society changes apace…" "Now who was it then desiring to speak?" "As the connection was redirected to my quarters, I can state unequivocally that the speaker was the Swedo-Norwegian Ambassador." "Gustav's man?" "Yes, m'lord." "Calling to apologise, I should well expect." "Erm… apologise, m'lord?" "Of course! Over this North Sea debacle. It's all over the daily lithograms. Have you not seen them? Skirmishing over this pyramid of the ages, my word! Why am I the last to hear of such foreign conflict?" "The vernacular press, m'lord? I tend to avoid it." "Finger on the pulse, Sir Adrian, the pulse of the common man. One likes to keep oneself grounded, in touch with the man on the street." "I do not doubt that at all, Your Lordship. However, one might find that tales of an ancient pyramid on the bed of the North Sea are somewhat of a… fabrication, m'lord. Penny dreadful stuff, I'm afraid." Lord Buggsbury almost spluttered as he picked up a sheaf of broadsheet papers from his bureau, "This? All this? A fabrication? It's front page! The Free Times, the Celtic Bugle, the Royal Holdings' Cryer… an entire company of the Scots Guards Specialised Infantry… pitched battles… It's the tomb of a pharaoh's daughter, Scota, they say, exiled from Egypt and first queen of the Gaels..." "Heady stuff, I'm quite sure, m'lord." Buggsbury continues to scan for quotes, "… 900 foot tall, sitting all of 100 foot below the sea surface… twice the Great Pyramid of Giza… 8th Wonder of the Ancient World… Norwegian blood spilt…" "Indeed, m'lord, but all quite impossible. The North Sea is but 300 feet deep, so this pyramid would stand two-thirds of its bulk above the surface. And if it were some 16 fathoms below the surface, this is one of the world's busiest shipping lanes, m'lord. A fishing trawler would be catching their net on it every Tuesday. It could not possibly have just now been discovered. Besides all of which, m'lord, we hardly have a whole company equipped with Holland's Bathyphilic Walkers. I understand there to be a couple of platoons, at the most." Buggsby suddenly gave Sir Adrian's countenance an uncharacteristically shrewd appraisal, "You seem to be rather well-versed on the obscure topic of North Sea geology, Sir Adrian. Would you perhaps have some… deeper… involvement in this matter?" Sir Adrian, almost imperceptibly, shifted uncomfortably. "None… that I would care to admit to, m'lord." "I see, this is intriguing. So there are no Scots Guards?" "Not quite, m'lord. More of a discretionary group, shall we say, who may have borrowed some equipment. But I am at a loss as to where this pyramid story arose. Nonetheless, m'lord, nothing of consequence occurred in the region. All is quite well." "A discretionary force, Sir Adrian?" "Indeed, m'lord, I know nothing more." Buggsbury banged the point of his bokken into the hardwood floor, startling Sir Adrian ever so slightly. "Jolly good! Wonderful news. Now then, what did he want?" "Your pardon, m'lord?" "The ambassador! You came here to inform me of his communiqué! So, proceed! What was its content?" "Ah, yes, of course, m'lord. His Excellency merely wanted to extend an invitation to suggest some British candidates to the Gustav V Academy, m'lord, for their annual prize ceremony. The Sir Alfred Nobel Prize for Excellence in Machinery Arts and Engineering, m'lord, presented to the greatest such thinkers and artists from around the globe." "Indeed, the highest calling, think you not? Advancing the common good? Well, the British Empire shan't be seen to be lacking on the world stage, Sir Adrian. Unacceptable. Hence you should form a committee, make a short list, send me a report. And make sure that good fellow John Holland gets a look in, eh? Where would we be without his genius, eh?" "Indeed, m'lord." "And perhaps that astute fellow who put together this pneumaphone system. It does seem awfully clever." "Actually an Italian gentleman, as I understand, m'lord. We just adapted the design. However, I shall make preparations forthwith." "Very good, very good. Now, if I may, I shan't be late for my lessons with Lord Sensei Cumberland-Furroughs. He's as likely as not to have me in seiza for the whole class, and my knees are quite brittle, if I may say. My thanks, Sir Adrian, dismissed!" "Yes, m'lord." For kendo, as well as a number of other Japanese traditions, had been wholly embraced by British society since discourse between the countries began at the end of the 18th century. Question 48* Which tinkerers and inventors would we see on the short-list for the Sir Alfred Nobel Prize for Excellence in Machinery Arts and Engineering? Who are five famous gadgeteers and what are they known for? __________________ Collaborative Settings: Cyberpunk: Duopoly Nation Space Opera: Behind the King's Eclipse And heaps of forum collabs, 30+ and counting!