Written by Ivan.
Dom Alonso grants you permission to speak with those refugees he is sheltering and you begin the same investigations you made at the EIC and at Lanik College. The Cathayan community in exile knows that you have the ear of the Royal Court and that you spoke with the late ambassador, so your questions are answered fairly easily. After more than 6 months abroad it is also relatively hard to quash all rumours and eventually you find a group of men and women who strike you as being a lot like a disguised group of Imperial Guards and the kind of junior courtiers you would expect to be around the Princess. You discretely introduce yourself to them and indicate that you would very much like to meet anyone connected to a certain important family.
A few days later you receive a polite invitation to meet at one of the smaller locations Dom Alonso has provided for the refugees. Outside it seems a normal Albion building, and in the outer rooms it resembles the other homes of the refugees you have met, but when you are shown into the inner rooms you see some of the finery of the Forbidden Palace. It is barely an echo of the glory of the palaces in Beijing but it is immense riches. It is in hindsight perhaps what you would have expected.
The Imperial Crown-Princess Changping, last of the Ming Dynasty, on the other hand is nothing like you would have expected. You saw her on occasion as you conducted your duties as a jinshi in the Forbidden Palace, but the young woman you are introduced to is nothing like that pampered princess. It is enough to give you a pause before you kowtow to her (she makes no indication that she has noticed your surprise and her small retinue seem to pass knowing smiles and nods of understanding rather than take offence on her part).
The Princess is attired simply in white silk, unadorned in any way, and her hair is cut in a tonsure leaving her almost bald. She has apparently taken up the role of a Taoist nun. Distressingly the rumours you have heard about the last actions of her father the Chongzhen emperor appear to be true; the Princess has had her left arm cut from her. The final shocking surprise is to find her covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the sword practice she is conducting. You are no swordswoman but the Princess gives every indication of being a superlative warrior. She moves through the many forms of her martial arts style with an almost inhuman fluid grace. She has clearly cultivated her own inner chi to a startling degree.
The Princess Changping nods politely at you and motions for you to stand. Her voice is graceful and quiet, a strange combination of everything you would expect from both a Daughter of the Son of Heaven and a virtuous nun; there is no trace of the warrior in her when she speaks to you. She seems perfectly willing to tell you her story.
Her father chopped off her arm with his sword when he was trying to kill his family before committing suicide. She was 17 years old and engaged to be married to Zhou Xian but the wedding had been put on hold because of Li Zicheng's rebellion.
The Princess fainted from her injuries but did not die. Li Zicheng's general Liu Zong Min (the same man rumoured to have taken the concubine Chen Yuanyuan and driven Wu Sangui to rebel against his new masters and open the gates of the Great Wall to the Manchu) treated her injury, and after Li Zicheng's defeat she managed to escape the Manchu and flee the country to this small island. She is certain the new Qing dynasty would be most interested in capturing her and probably marrying her to their new Emperor or one of his heirs in order to establish their legitimacy.
The Princess is interested in securing the safety of her people in Albion and was trying to establish the loyalties of ambassador Lao Jungfei before her death. The rumours of the “accidents” that have befallen her and other ambassadors to the King of this land have made her wary of announcing he presence. There is not a trace of fear in her voice, you get the impression that she would happily fight a celestial dragon if she thought it necessary. Fear in this case seems to be little more than a polite way for her express sensible caution.
She asks you if you would be willing to perhaps establish how she would be greeted at Court, and perhaps to see how any attempts she made to return to Cathay and, perhaps, her other role there would be received.
When you make your case that Dom Alonso is a poor host and that she would be safer and better treated with the East India Company she looks calmly at you for a moment, as if weighing you, and nods acquiescence. She does make you promise to be discrete with her location however and to tell only those you trust most.
You have met Princess Chanping, one-armed warrior nun and last heir of the Ming Dynasty. She is a lovely woman and if anything worryingly gentle and kind for a potential ruler, though her possible ability to cut down an entire platoon of troops without effort does slightly belie that. She has appointed you as something slightly less than an ambassador to sound out the Court and possibly even to aid her return to Cathay and raising standards against the Manchu invaders.
Written by Ivan.
As soon as you leave Court you begin making preparations to head East and help your family. Of course you're careful to make it look like the military preparations are all for the purpose of the trip to South America you're supposed to be taking, and that the rapid sale of much of your estates and other wealth is to sell off debts (and to massively expand your collection of cheeseknives). Your reputation for eccentricity and strange passions serves you well here and your servants and soldiers and the local merchants barely raise an eyebrow at what would in anyone else be extremely suspicious behaviour.
You dispatch the Silver Cheeseknife ahead of you on the first tide after it is crewed and ready.
You set sale about two weeks later, the ships well provisioned and fully loaded with your small supernatural and natural menagerie and with your extensive collection of cheeseknives .Once out of sight of Albion, you reveal to your men their new “secret orders”. That you are to sail into the East and help England's allies there defend themselves against the barbarians who are invading. This is surprisingly easy to sell to the Dragoons since they were already prepared for a long voyage, and the prospect of going somewhere where the other side doesn't cut out your heart in ritual sacrifice if they catch you is quite appealing even to experienced troops. It helps too that rumours, largely circulated by the East India Company when they're trying to recruit people, tell that the East is full of gold and spices and silks and anyone who returns from there is guaranteed to bring back a fortune with them.
You steer well clear of Gibraltar (or as clear as the small straits will allow) and don't even sight Malta. At the Gerard Canal however you once again encounter ships assigned to Commodore Mandrake. They don't make any move to stop you and in fact give you a salute with their guns. After all a fleet of warships loaded with Dragoons heading East must surely have been sent by the King!
The Ottomans are a little more startled by the arrival of your fleet but the Bey in charge of the Canal is willing to let you past since you don't seem to be showing much inclination to invade the place. He does hint however that you'll be going into his next report to Istanbul; for some reason he seems to be under the impression that turning up unannounced with a fleet of warships is a bit rude!
You make easy sailing to Formosa. There you find that your family have carried out your wishes. The refugees already controlled Taiwan and the Manchu have not as yet reached Hainan. They're control is as yet only strong around the capital and although much of the south has pledged loyalty to them there armies and governors are not yet securely entrenched and have made few changes to the old ways.
You are reunited with your family. You take the time to tease your brother about his adventures in Siam. You also find time to meet with your birth mother and to pray at the shrine your family has set up to your father's memory.
I don't think I can much to what is already on your turnsheet, given that you've given a quite detailed account of your families movements and your relationship to them.
Change in history ahead!
Unfortunately the Manchu have realised the danger in allowing a large group of increasingly well-armed rebels to establish a stronghold and opposed their rule. They gather together a great naval force at Fuzhou. Of course many of the captains once owed their loyalty to the Ming Dynasty but they have heard about the suicide of the Changzhen emperor and have decided it would perhaps be wiser to serve the Manchu. It is not hard however to find a few men still with loyalty in their hearts willing to keep your family up-to-date with the Manchu plans for invasion. There is also a smaller contingent of Manchu ships, and these are kept well separated from those of the Han. Rumour has it that Nipponese have been seen upon their decks though no-one is certain.
The great fleet sails some two months after your arrival in Taiwan. Your family and the other members of the new Kingdom of Tungning have been frantically gathering what ships you can. The ships you yourself brought are the most capable. The fleet is led by the Admiral Koxinga who remains loyal to the Ming and has sworn to fight the Qing to his dying breath. You aid your elder brother in preparing the islands defences against invasion; you retain command over your own men and the Dragoons, as well as the dragon Lang-Long and the werewolf Lang Xiao-Lang. Your ships your reluctantly allow to join the Ming fleet under Admrial Koxinga.
You hear later that the naval engagement was ferocious, lasting from dawn till dusk. The Tungning fleet fought bravely but in the end was driven off. Your ships fought in the thick of the action and accounted well for themselves, but the White Dragon was lost to an explosion in its magazine. The Qing fleet makes landfall the next day and the land battle begins.
The Tungning fleet has ensured that you are only outnumbered two-to-one. The fighting on the beach is ferocious but the Manchu are advancing steadily. Your lines almost break when the Manchu reveal the reasons for their hidden Nipponese on the ships. Crawling out of the holds of their ships come a dozen machines, resembling spiders about the size of a horse but with four legs and short stubby “arms”, painted ceramic blue. They prove to be incredibly swift and dangerous warriors, armed with muskets built into their arms and with flashing blades. They communicate to each other in high-pitched voices that carry over the sound of the fighting. You learn later from some of the prisoners you capture that they are called “tachikomas” by the Nipponese who sold them to the Manchu.
The troops all along the line are thrown into chaos by the arrival of these strange new weapons, but you sally forth to meet them. Your swordsmanship is a match for one, even maybe two, but once they have found a mighty opponent they begin to converge on you. It is only the arrival of Lang-Long which saves you, and together you manage to smash the machines which seem unwilling to surrender.
With their secret weapons destroyed the Manchu break and retreat and you swiftly retake the beachhead. About a quarter of your men are casualties and some 80 of them will never return to Albion.
But you have one a great victory against the Manchu!
It is a few days later that it begins to rain ash, as a great cloud blots out the sun. The entire island had been shaken by a small earthquake a few hours earlier. Your agents within the so-called Qing empire inform you that a massive new volcano has erupted near Zhengzhou, devastating the land for hundreds of leagues around. This will surely delay any attempt by the Manchu to attack the islands again.
Written by Philip Silva's PC.
The last of the Cathayans bowed respectfully and left, leaving Philip alone with the corpse. The late ambassador looked peaceful, lying upon the bier and Philip felt a certain reluctance to speak, as though he might accidentally wake her. He quietly walked across to the door and ensured it was locked, and then after some hesitation pulled a heavy cabinet in front of it. Just in case.
He reached into his pockets and drew out Tsungs balled up xuanduan robes, they were a bit small for him, but with his current slender physique he should be able to manage. He moved into a far corner away from the corpse and began to disrobe…
—
Philip's anguished wail of grief tore through the air as he ripped a silk sleeve from the xuanduan and cast it into the brazier before him.
“AAAaaoooh Lao Jungfei I call upon yooouuuu!”
With a grunt of effort he pulled loose the other sleeve and it drifted down to join its smouldering counterpart.
“OOOoahhh I call to the Shining Palaces Abooooove!”
Reaching behind his neck with both hands Philip grabbed hold of either side of the collar and tugged. Straining with all his strength he continued to wail.
“AAAAAAAH I call to the Burning Pits Belooooow!”
With a final burst of exertion he ripped the ceremonial robe in half and threw the torn silk down upon the brazier. He stood, panting hard with the dim light of the coals glowing against his chest. Not long now, surely. She'd come back soon.
“LAOOO, where-ever you be, by my Magics I do call Yoooouuu!”
An ethereal form flickered above the body, visible one moment and then gone the next. Damn, she still needed persuading; he'd hoped it wouldn't come to this.
“Come to me NOOOOOWWW!”
He yanked hard on the thin fabric of Tsung's trousers and they came away easily in his hand. The corpse of Ambassador Lao JungFei sat bolt upright and stared at Philip.
“Master Silva…what ARE you doing?”
Success. From somewhere in his mind he could hear al-Nazir's cackling laughter; one of these days he'd find out a way to do this rite that was less embarrassing. Trying to walk in a dignified manner his hurried back toward his pile of clothes. He and the Ambassador had a lot to talk about, but first- breeches.
Written by Ann.
Silva summons up Lao's ghost. Her yacht was boarded and capsized by men in dark cloaks who were whispering the Lord's Prayer in Latin as they murdered her.
Lao is more than happy to look over the Cathayan community and dispense advice as a respected ancestor, and will be grateful for any assistance on Silva's part.
She's happy to provide Theurgical expertise, but she can't actually do Theurgy. The qualities of the mortal soul have been so changed by her journey through the Hells that she is no longer capable of actually performing magic. However, she would be more than happy to teach the rituals required to any Theurgist willing to accept the principles of Eastern religion therein involved.
The mundane and alchemical processes of creating the factory are largely finished. The Fucanglong has been convinced to occupy the place. Two things need to occur before the plan is complete:
The Bishop of Durham is perfectly willing to bless and sanctify the place, using her Christian Theurgy, to the slight disgust of the various Cathayan refugees resident there. She is willing to cooperate in any mechanism to make the thing fly, as long as there's a good plan behind it.
Haroun is providing some impressive personal investment to keep the entire project well-oiled and budgeted.
From a sermon at a parish church in the East of Oxford, serving the craftsmen and scribes of the Island.
The funeral of the Ambassador from the Court of the Son of Heaven, Lao Jungfei, was conducted in the city this day, resembling more a Circus than a Solemn Rite. These Cathayans are well-known to be Worse than the Pagans that sore oppressed the Church in its Beginning, worshipping not just a Multitude of Demons masquerading as gods but also the Spirits of the Dead. The funeral of the ambassador provided Rude Entertainment for the entire lower orders of the city and scared more horses than the cannon drills of the Dragoons at Oxford Castle.
The funeral procession was led to the graveyard by three Cathayans on horseback, accompanied by a band of the Strangest and most Ridiculous music on earth, which could easily be counted as dirge though more fit for a Demon than a woman. Upon the route of the march, on the High Street of the Capital itself, a platform was erected. Three table loaded with Chinese delicacies were set there and the coffin laid there under a White Canopy besides. “Priests”, for so they claimed to be though they appeared to know little or Nothing of the True God, attired in white robes scandalously unsuited for mourning led heathen prayers while the Cathayan population of the city marched in procession past. In fact the entire procession wore the White of a Wedding instead of the respectful colours of mourning, presumably celebrating the Dead Woman's fate of Concubinage to a Demon since she never acknowledged the Lord and her Soul will surely Burn Forever through her Error.
Offerings were made to the False Gods of China, and to the spirit of Lao Jungfei. Salvos of firecrackers were fired and Strange Smelling Sticks were burned. Once these foul rites were performed the three leaders upon their horses let the procession to the cemetery where the unbeliever was interred with little more in the way of uncouth ceremony.
Only a few Stalwart Puritans dared to Denounce the Pagan Ceremony held within the Capital, but none should be in doubt. These Cathayans seek to Drive the good Christian Faith from our Land and in its place set their own Demonic Patrons and the Dead.
From an occasional pamphlet, “The Travels of a Gentleman of Albion”, a travelogue to entertain those with an interest in foreign climes.
It is well-known that the lands outside of Christendom suffer without the benevolent protection of Our Lord in Heaven, and must contend with the earth beneath their feet shaking buildings down and rains of fire from time to time. It was my own fortune, whether good or bad, to be a witness to such an event during my most recent sojourn within the wartorn land of Cathay. The superstitious locals blame such events on the loss of the “Mandate of Heaven”, an event which apparently presages the disfavour of Heaven, showing that even the Pagans are distantly aware of the power of God.
I am a late riser and was awoken some time after dawn by a great rumbling which was transmitted through the earth itself, which shook the buildings. I have heard from reliable contacts with whom I trade that this great shaking was felt for some hundreds of leagues around the province of Shaanxi which has long-been forbidden to travellers. It was only minutes later that a great pillar of smoke became visible and that a great fall of ash began that hid the sun for many days. Reports reach me that to the chaos of war is now added the devastation by the might paroxysms of this once mountain, which has ruined an area I estimate to be as great of that of the Kingdom of France!
“The Meteorological Phenomenology of Albion”, a scholarly pamphlet about the weather of Albion. It normally chiefly recounts rainfall.
“in the nature of the glow, which is both intense and lustreless, and that both in the sky and in the earth. The glow is intense, this is what strikes everyone; it has prolonged the daylight, and optically changed the season; it bathes the whole sky, it is mistaken for the reflection of a great fire; at the sundown itself and southwards from that date, I took a note of it as more like inflamed flesh than the lucid reads of ordinary sunsets. On the same evening the fields facing west glowed as if overlaid with yellow wax.”
All have noted that the sunsets in recent months have been spectacular, filled with reds and oranges and seeming to last much longer than normal. A great many preachers have taken this as an indication of the approach of the End Times and millennial cults are once more rife.
Astounding reports reach us from Cathay. Apparently the Baron Orpington, the Prince Lang, has staged his own invasion of two of the islands off the coast of Cathay with the support of nobles loyal to the former Ming Dynasty. This is simply unacceptable, if the blame attaches to ourselves then we may face the closure of all our factories in China! And it does the reputation of the Company no good that we apparently neither knew that this act of war was coming nor that our trading partners must now expect battleships as well as trading ships!
The gunpowder situation is becoming critical. The supply from Cathay has now completely dried up, and though thanks to the actions of Proprietor Silva our stocks are near an all-time high, this has not stopped rather heated exchanges with the Dragoons. Those soldiers have long memories and remember what happened forty years ago. We must start providing gunpowder again as soon as possible or the consequences for the East India Company, possibly including its existence, will be dire.
Yes, this is repeated from the last briefing; consider it a standing order. The East India Company is establishing a new facility for housing the Cathayan refugees and to give them a chance to resume their trades. Unfortunately it has become clear that they must be guarded well against those who do not understand their Oriental ways, for this reason the John Company has a continuing requirement for reliable guards.
Discretion is of the utmost importance in this matter, and we hope that our officers will understand that we can not reveal the location of this facility. For the good of Albion any rumours, or questions, that reach your ears about the existence of this new facility should be reported to Director Mandrake at once. The Lord-Director will see to it that any officer leaking any details of the facility will be punished severely.
It appears that the East India Company sorcerer Tsung Chang-Mai has been captured while performing magic of some kind outside Naples. Rumours are rife throughout Europe that it was her sorcerous actions which caused the recent eruption of the mountain Vesuvius near Naples. I need not remind you that Naples is controlled by the Spanish crown, a nation with which we are not at war. Should the King give credence to these rumours he is likely to take an extremely dim view of merchants steering his kingdom to war and starting it with an atrocity against an entire city.
Worse still, I can not emphasise the importance to us of recovering Tsung Chang-Mai. It is no exaggeration to say that if she remains in the hands of the Jesuits who appear to have captured her then this Kingdom may founder and be destroyed. You are authorised to use any means, any resource and any promise to recover the woman.