Welcome Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen.



Welcome Lords, Ladies and Gentlefolk.

This blog will be devoted to my literary and cosplay interests and stories set in my own alternative historical steampunk background. I hope people enjoy the stories, as much as I enjoy devising and writing them and that it stimulates their own artistic interests, entertains them or if nothing else fires their own imaginations.

A special note to new readers of this blog, the entries "Nation States" are gazetteers of the nations as they exist in the An Age of Steam, Steel and Iron background, each with a few remarks/observations about each nation as they exist within. Any post headed by the title containing the words "Story Snippet" or "Fragments" is a stand alone, snapshot of the background, they will be developed into fuller stories in future, but at present they serve to give the viewer/reader a measure of what this world is like, what is going on in it and who some of the players are. Full stories, will be headed by their title and a roman number, as they will generally be in several parts.

Comments, suggestions or remarks by readers are welcomed.

I would like to thank the following people:

Yaya Han, for getting me seriously interested in cosplay at a time when things were looking very glum for me back in 2006 with several extended stays in hospital due to illness, and motivating me to get actively involved.

Ashley Du aka UndeadDu, for her unfailing friendship and cheerful support since we first met in 2014 at the Hamilton Comic Con, and for being my Cosplay mentor and advisor.

Sara Marly, for her interest in and support for my writings, since we first met in 2016 at the Hamilton Comic Con and incidently helping me make up my mind to finally do this.

Stephen Thomson, my friend, for his advise and assistance with creating and setting up this blog.

Daniel Cote, my friend and co-worker for his advise and friendship over the years.

The People of the The Aegy's Gathering (particularly Jonathan Cresswell-Jones, Scott Washburn and Jenny Dolfen, all of whom I have kept in contact with over the years), who were brought together in friendship by a certain randomness of chance and a common interest in the Honor Harrington books and stayed together despite distance and the strains of life.


The People of the Wesworld Alternative History website, who gave me the opportunity to sharpen my writing and story telling skills while directing the affairs of Lithuania and briefly France during their 1930s timelines.

My parents Mary Ellen (1946 - 2019) and Logan, my siblings Adam and Danika and various friends both online and at work and play for putting up with me, encouraging and supporting me both in the very good times and the very bad times.

I remain as always yours very sincerely, your obedient servant, Matthew Baird aka Sir Leopold Stanley Worthing-Topper








Sunday, July 29, 2018

The Man in the Red Mask (Part II)

City of London, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, January 1889.


This particular night in London, was nothing so grand a caper but never the less was something important as far as Lord Hood was concerned. In point of fact he had two commissions to concern himself with this evening, once professional and one personal. He stood alone in a darkened room, save for a single lamp, which stood alone on a table beside him. Lord Hood drew a valuable gold pocket watch from the right hand pocket of his red brocade vest and examined it critically for several moments after popping it's decorative lid. The man he was waiting for was late, not surprising considering the man, but most unfortunate for the man in question. His masked face turned abruptly towards the door. A doubt knock announced his visitor, as the automaton on the other side of the door opened it to admit his visitor.

A smallish, ruffled gentleman with a halted shuffle entered the nearly blackened room. Tom Hachett was his name and he was an informant for hire by trade. The man was not much to look at, eyes pale blue and red rimmed from too much opium smoke, his sandy blond hair, unkempt as was his short beard and mustache. His face was a pale, wasted oval marred further by a weak mouth and a great beak of a nose which was a bright mottled red from a life time of drinking too much cheap gin. He had a slouching carriage that spoke of a lazy disposition and his soiled, much patched clothes said much both about his standards of personal cleanliness and the alarming state of his finances. That said Hachett had a brain in his head and kept his ears and eyes open and knew quite a lot that was going on at street level in the city of London and the surrounding boroughs. In that regard he was most useful to Lord Hood, although not regarded as an altogether reliable or trustworthy agent come to that. Hackett had a number of vices, expensive vices, when one considered he often spent as much as five times his annul income on them. He was frequently broke as a result and would sell his carefully garnered information, street gossip and rumour to whomever paid his next bar tab as often as not.

Lord Hood looked wordlessly at Hachett, who practically cringing when he saw the red mask and red brocade waist coat seemingly floating in black darkness before him, picked out by the dim illumination of the lamp. The pocket watch lid clamping smartly shut made Hachett jump in barely suppressed alarm. The black, reflective and completely soulless eyes of the red mask gazed balefully at Hachett, who just managed to not swallow reflexively in fear. The gold pocket watch, slipped back into his vest pocket and Lord Hood's hands dropped behind his back as he gazed at Hachett for several long moments.

"You are late, Mister Hachett." Lord Hood's voice was a flat, distinctly mechanical and almost a perpetual sarcastic monotone. Hachett reflectively tugged at his tall shirt collar, and swallowed several times before responding.

"Yes, Your...um... Lordship. Me 'pologies for being behind my... appointment." Hachett stammered. He rummaged around in his coat for the packet he had for his employer. He placed it on the table, where Lord Hood could clearly see it in the lamp light. A black gloved hand picked the packet up, and broke the seal with a knife. For several moments he did nothing but read the various written reports contained in the packet. Lord Hood suddenly nodded to himself, carefully replaced the documents in the packet and placed it back down on the table.

"Very Good, Hachett, I commend your diligence." Lord Hood remarked before withdrawing a large envelope stuffed with British bank notes. He placed it at the edge of the table facing, Hachett. Hachett cautiously picked up the envelope, opened it and make a quick count of it's contents. Sighing softly when it tallied with his previously agreed fee. Lord Hood, watched Hachett's red rimmed eyes carefully saw the look of relief mixed with avarice.

"You may go, Hachett."

The Man in the Red Mask (Part I)

City of London, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, January 1889.



To know a man, you must know his background, his family, his vices and virtues. To destroy a man you need to know his name, his abode, his habits, his place of work or occupation. What does one do, when the man in question has none of these? All about him is wrapped in silence, shadows and secrecy. He volunteers nothing and nobody who knows anything will speak of him. In a certain section of London, there was one such man, a gentleman by his dress and manners and possessed of both means, educations and more then average intelligence. He had many accomplices, spies and informants spread throughout the great city, he heard all the whispers and goings on in the London Underworld and little that went on escaped his notice. This man operated and did business in the twilight between law abiding society and it's polar opposite the world of crimes and criminality.

He, if he was indeed such as no one had ever seen his face beneath the mask he habitually wore or heard his real voice, went by various names in that society of that twilight world.  The Red Mask or  the Red Hood were amoung the more popular and printable names given to him by other criminals. He was known as Lord Hood by his own preference to those who worked directly for or alongside him on a given commission.

Lord Hood was something unique in the criminal underworld, he was what was beginning to be called a 'mastermind'. His occupation, if one could call it that, was the planning of crimes, sometimes he involved himself directly in their execution at other times he stayed on the sidelines as an advisor or acted from the shadows in a supporting role as the need arose. He worked for a set commission of seven percent of the take, though he would sometimes demand a higher fee if he had to become involved directly or the degree of risk in the attempting the crime was higher then what he regarded as usual. Lord Hood as a matter of habit and professional interest frequently took jobs that other criminal gangs or individual masterminds would not touch, either through a perfectly natural but unspoken fear of failure or because they thought the said crime was beneath their notice or reputation to involve themselves in.

Another quirk of his, was that he would never work with the same individual, group or gang of criminals, more then three times in a given year. On reflection most of the professional criminals in London, saw the sense in it. Some of the jobs Lord Hood's name was attached to over the years had been both notorious or sensational in the extreme and an interval to let the 'official' heat to blow over was not a bad idea in their opinion.

Lord Hood had first appeared as far as the London Underworld was concerned in 1880, and it was whispered though no one could confirm it, that he had been an apprentice of an American mastermind of some notoriety, in some New England port city or other, called the Red Hood. Whatever the truth of the matter, Lord Hood had evidently learned his trade well and begun work in the city offering his services as a consulting criminal to the smaller gangs and criminal outfits. His first commission according to popular rumor had been planning the Great Cliffton & Downs Bullion Train robbery, some Fifty thousand pounds sterling had been stolen by the Stafford Reubens gang, a relatively minor not to say at the time insignificant criminal gang of robbers, muggers and occasional safe crackers. Lord Hood was paid some three thousand and five hundred pounds for the affair, while the members of the Reubens gang had each received nearly five thousand pounds a piece!

Sunday, July 22, 2018

School Of Sharks (Part I)

Pearl Harbor, the Island of Oahu, the Kingdom of Hawai'i, January, 1889.

The golden red light of the rising sun was just beginning to drive away the darkness of night, tinting the horizon with colour. The freshing morning breeze swept out from the Pacific across the crystal waters of the Wai Momi. The palms scattered along the shores of the bay swayed gently as the sun brightened their slender leaves. People in the towns and villages dotting the bay shore began to wake up and go about their morning observances for the start of their respective work day and breakfeasts.

The warships of the Royal Hawaiian Navy stood lined up along the North Channel of the Moku'ume 'ume island, began to come alive as their respective crews themselves awoke and began their daily regime to the shrill blasts of boatswain whistles. Ten turret ships rested at anchor in two rows alongside each other. Four centre battery ironclads lay in a single row alongside the docking posts in the South Channel.  Each of these ships had the King's cypher at their stern and the royal crest of the kingdom at their bow in elaborate gold work. Their hulls were painted a stark white and their upper works and masts were painted in buff paint. Scattered around the various bays and channels of the harbour stood the station ships of some eleven foreign nations, Great Britain, France, Japan, Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, the United States of America, the Independent States of America, the Confederate States of America, Spain and Portugal, all of whom had a vested interest in Hawaii and in particular this bay.

The captain of the Austro-Hungarian station ship, the centre-battery ironclad SMS Kaiser watched the sunrise from his stern walk. He lifted the fine china cup balanced on it's saucer in his hand as he listened to the ironclad wake up and begin it's daily routine, governed by the needs of the service and strict maritime traditions. The first blast of the whistle roused the crew, both common sailors and officers alike, from their bunks and hammocks at 5:00 am, by 5:05 the hammocks in which the men slept were to be lashed up or bunks tided up and everything stowed away.  Between 5:10 and 5: 40 all the crew had to be washed and dressed, followed by cleaning the ship, this was a general tidy-up, which was carried out barefoot in summer or tropical conditions. Mess duty followed at 6:50, when the mess hands who had been detailed to mess duty for the day set up the tables and benches and fetched coffee from the galley. 7:00 until 7:40 would be occupied by the breakfast break, followed by clearing the deck and the colours parade at 8:00 exactly on the ship's upper deck.  At 8:10, cleaning the ship's guns began, at 8:45 cleaning of all the ship's small-arms commenced. At 9:00 preparation for inspection followed by the daily inspection, which served the same role as roll-call did for the army at 9:10. General drill took place between 9:30 and 11:30, at which time the signal "Clear the Decks" was blown on the whistle. The deck was then swept and tidied up. At 11:45 mess duty commenced again for those detailed and at 12:00 the crew was summoned by the call "All Hands to Lunch."

While in port tradesmen selling provisions and other requisites were allowed on board during the midday break, but had to disembark again at 13:45. Between 14:00 and 16:00 "Division Duty" commenced, this typically consisted of instruction, uniform inspection, rifle, bayonet and sword practice and so on. At 16:00 the signal "Clear the Decks" was sounded again and there was a short break, followed at 16:30 by another hour's duties. Then the final "Clear the Decks" was sounded at the end of the day's duties at 17:30 and the last "Mess-room Duty" was sounded at 17:50 and the evening meal was served at 18:00. During the ensuing free period food preparation for the next day was organized and carried out, the decks were also swept again at 20:50. At this point the signal "Pipes and Matches Out" in the lower living quarters, as at night smoking was allowed only on the deck. At 21:00, after the bandsman had beaten or blown the retreat, the whistle for "All Quiet in the Ship" was sounded.

The captain took a sip and frowned, he needed to ready his ship to go to sea before noon, a convoy was due into Pearl Harbour all the way from the Adriatic in Europe for the Hawaiian government. It would be escorted all the way by warships and auxiliaries of k.u.k. Kriegsmarine, a cable concerning it from the consulate in Manila, in the Spanish Philippines had reached him yesterday via the Austro-Hungarian Minister to the Royal Court of Kalākaua.

Notes: (1) Wai Momi (Waters of the Pearl) or Pu'uloa (the Long Hill) are the native Hawaiian names for the embayment (2) Moku'ume'ume (Island of Attraction) also sometimes called Poka 'Ailana in Hawaiian is Ford Island.

Monday, July 16, 2018

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part XII)

Kendal Palace, Grosvenor Square, London, Great Britain: January 1886

Regis Augustus Crossley, 11th Baron of Landseer sat fixedly in his seat as his carriage moved through the great gates of the Kendal Palace. On the face of it, he seemed both unhurried and unconcerned, in point of fact he was just a bit nervous and apprehensive about this evening's ball. His younger brother Roderick Octavius Crossley sat across from him looking as was all too usual for him, distinctly bored and vacant eyed. Neither spoke for some minutes as the carriage slowly crossed the courtyard and moved to a parking space at the direction of one of the Kendal Palace uniformed servants. Regis regarded his silent, indolent younger brother carefully for several long moments before he finally spoke.

"I trust you will behave yourself, Roderick, and not embarrass yourself as usual."

Roderick, jerked out the silent reverie that had enveloped him for much of the carriage's journey, shook himself to clear his thoughts before responding to his older brother's non too subtle dig.

"I never embarrass myself, Regis, although I suppose I do sometimes embarrass you." Roderick responded lightly and languidly. Regis regarded him with a skeptical, jaded air. Roderick was all too capable of making a complete fool of himself on any and all social occasions to both his family's and his own personal discomfort. At least he had so, with astonishing and cringe worthy regularity over the last few years. Mother and Father, really had coddled, spoiled and indulged Roderick, whom they regarded as their golden boy far too much both as a child and as a young man. It showed in every way he acted, conversed and moved through life.

Regis bit back on the caustic remark that immediately presented itself to his brain, and lapsed into a resigned silence. Roderick responded to that with a slight but irritating smirk. Regis was devoted to his younger brother and his numerous sisters but that did not mean he was impressed or happy with their occasional antics or equally ocassional scandals. Regis broke off this line of thought as the carriage rolled to an abrupt stop. Two Wraithdale postillions  appeared at the carriage door, opening it and letting down the moveable steps.

While Regis expected this evening to be generally pleasant, he had a sneaking suspicion that Roderick would commit some gaff or faux pas before the evening was out. Oh well what will be, will be He supposed. I just hope it is something I can easily smooth over or dispel easily, he thought mildly as he nimbly exited the carriage and made for the palace doors, Roderick trailing behind him.

The two gentlemen, went through the paces as they had their outer garments taken by the cloak room pages and waited at the top of the stairs to be announced to the assembled throng of guests and the hostess of the gathering. They were amoung the last arrivals, Lord Landseer noted, some five hundred people packed the hall and side galleries everywhere one looked it seemed. This was not unexpected, the Wraithdales had a lot of friends in various stations of society and had been generous patrons of numerous causes. Regis felt his mood lighten a bit as he was announced and walked down the stairs and followed the people ahead of him to pay his respects to the ball's hostess, the Duchess of Kendal.

Ursula, observed the Baron Landseer as he slowly, gracefully walked down the stairs. He looked very splendid in his black and gold embroidered diplomatic uniform. His not inconsiderable height, broad shoulders and very trim figure and pleasing light blonde hair and sparkling grey eyes did not hurt his looks either, Ursula thought mildly. Ursula sensed Thomas stiffen at her side, she shifted her gaze to follow his, and saw Roderick.