Player: Frances H
Rank: Ambassador (effective rank 5)
Religion: Church of England
Reputation: Important
Email: meeash_han_tiki_weatherwhite@albion.chaosdeathfish.com

The Ambassador of distant Zilmatillia, arriving from that distant land after she and the appointed ambassador were ship-wrecked, rescued by a ship that turned out to be full of slave-traders, robbed, sold to merchants who took them to the continent, escaped by the grace of God, got robbed, got lost, saved the life of a travelling mystic who paid their passage to England, and finally reached the coast where they got robbed. The ambassador fell to the footpad’s cudgels, and Meash had no choice but to take his place and make her way to London.

Was recently noted to attend a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in the company of Sir Alexander Cross, with admirable piety. The name of Zilmatillia has also been heard favourably after a particularly fine play by Mistress Rebecca Lanik. Helped with the administration of the Royal Wedding, for which she gained much favour.

Extract from the diary of Miriam Davidicz, clerk in the (exceedingly brief) Prague Embassy to the Court of Queen Elizabeth II.

”…the Inscribers all running at maximum power, we were quite prepared for the Emergency Repatriation Procedure to commence at midnight, as planned. The dragon Sii Maou having been carefully settled across the upper bailey of the main Embassy court and his tail having been coiled neatly on the roof of the servants' quarters, we withdrew the Embassy Guard and prepared to commence full Theurgic operation. The circumstances were marred somewhat by the unexpected departure of Rabbi Brandage just before midnight, claiming that she could not abandon her people in their time of need; but Ambassador Weatherwhite and her metallic companion Bernard were safely ensconced within Embassy grounds. We commenced Emergency Repatriation at ten minutes past the stroke of midnight, and by the tenth Celestial Bell the entire Embassy had fully manifested into its prepared landing-spot near the Judith Bridge. All proceeded smoothly and according to plan, and I found myself grateful for our own Ambassador's insistence on frequent drills for such an eventuality; which I had found frustrating when they had seemed unnecessary, but which served us well in our hour of need.

It was well to be back in Prague, and Her Excellency Ambassador Weatherwhite seemed delighted - though somewhat shaken - by her first experience of the Emergency Repatriation procedures. I gratefully stepped onto the soil of home and was greeted by darling Solomon, and also the sight of the Zilmatillian Ambassador delivering an excitable and delighted, though rather incomprehensible, hymn of praise for arriving safely back on terrestrial territory…”

Extract from the diary of Jessica Dur-Abran Carter, Acting Ambassador for the Zilmatillian Empire to the Court of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England.

”…the Ambassador then, a bare moment before the Prague Embassy closed its gates and departed for points unknown and only some minutes before the Catholics broke through the defences at the Southwark Gate, grabbed me by the elbow, and in swift through broken English explained that she had received word of a breeding pair of wild dandelions - “not your mild-mannered English varieties!”, she cried - and that she was leaving to collect them forthwith, in order to release them into the English countryside for reasons which I must admit I did not fully grasp at the time…

…I could only accede to her request to fill the post of Acting Ambassador in her absence, and though I must admit that the ritual of transferrence was somewhat strange, my hair still smells slightly of crab-apple jelly and I have not yet shaken all the rose-petals from my underskirts, I will endeavour to serve with loyalty my newfound country, in the finest Zilmatillian traditions, and with my newly taken Zilmatillian name, Dur-Abran…

…hoping to translate material from Lady Weatherwhite's extensive archives in order to better inform me about my duties as Acting Ambassador, though I am certain Lady Weatherwhite will herself soon return and I will no longer have to 'hold the fort'…”

Extract from the diary of Joseph Wakely, a minor court functionary and scribe.

”…overheard the Zilmatillian ambassador, shortly before her departure, in the rather swift process of disposing of the dragon Sii Maou's estates, in order to raise funding for the purchase of a Cathedral… understand that Lord Rotheringay was somewhat taken with the place, despite her negative descriptions; the secret cellars full of potion bottles (she was certain they were a breeding ground for spiders)… extravagent menagerie of stuffed exotic animals, whose glass eyes seem to follow her around the room… sullenly trickly stream of water which seems to reverse the passage of time in the human body, whose upsetting noise has most discomposed her when she has visited the property… indeed Lord Rotheringay seemed almost overly enthusiastic to purchase, and was willing to provide notes of credit and gold Angels in great quantity with unseemly haste…”

Further extract from the diary of Miriam Davidcz.

“It is some three months since Ambassador Weatherwhite and her entourage left Prague on a trip to speak to a breeder of window-mice. We miss them fondly and have the greatest fears for Ambassador Weatherwhite's safety…”

Extract from the diary of Wilhelmina Schmidt, goat-herd in the Austrian Principality of Bernschtein.

“Today encountered on road small woman in strange headdress, metal man and dragon with many large teeth. Dragon ate three prime goats and then, upon small woman berating it furiously, dragon apologised to me in v. fluent Latin. Small woman gave me bag of emeralds in return for goats. Entire party then departed at speed towards Berlin. Am v. v. confused.”

Unsigned letter found among the papers of Mistress Apollonia of Shipley after her sad departure from this mortal coil.

“Mistress Apollonia,

A hundred thanks. We are all very West here, and we hope you are too.

May your hair never grow inwards.”

There is no signature.

Extract from the diary of Sung-Myung Kim, Secretary-Administrator of the Glorious 42nd Province of the True Eastern Prelature

”…after the young female had spoken with some time with the King of the Water-Serpents, his most Celestial Preeminence snorted loudly, sang for some time in an unknown dialect of the barbarous Eastern Tongues, and caused the hindquarters of the Third Deputy-Chair of the Committee for Forthright Poetical Consideration to catch fire. The young female and her entourage departed at speed…”

Closing notes

A young woman and a man made of metal are sitting on a beach somewhere, watching the setting sun glisten on the scales of Sii Maou as he surfaces briefly above the waves to dive again. A green cloak is spread out before them like a picnic cloth, and on it are spread salted pork, crab apple jelly, mustard, Yorkshire puddings, malmsey wine, plum puddings and honey comb. Their seats are barrels of malmsey, and they toast Sir Richard Molyneux in elderflower wine as they dine by the light from his silver candlestick. As the last daylight fades and the fireflies come out, they continue to sit serenely, a pink hand held in a silver one, whilst overhead a Luck Vane creaks gently in defiance of the wind, pointing ever and eternally to the West.