The
airfield is currently just an empty stretch of grass with a tall mooring
mast in the centre; to the left and right, one can observe the hangars
and maintenance buildings. All in all, the field seems perhaps six
to seven hundred feet long. Around the ancillary building, ground
personnel is bustling about in a quiet, efficient manner.
In the terminal, about two dozen people are waiting for their flight and at least as many are here to meet travelers arriving with the Parsifal. When a melodious bell starts ringing, most of these (except for the more blasé) troop near the large windows to witness the arrival of the airship.
At first, there is only a speck in the sky, like a bird far overhead. But this speck rapidly grows, larger and larger, into an oblong shape eating up the sky. As it fills the view, silently descending, it looks more and more like a ship out of the water, quietly falling through the air by some mad magic. The airfield suddenly seems too small to hold this leviathan (although the ship is only four hundred feet in length, easily fitting in the landing space. Gently, it slows down as it reaches the mooring post, lightly coming to kiss its tip like a snowflake dropping.
On the ground, the personnel hurriedly starts bringing carts, some empty and some loaded with boxes, a rolling stairways, etc. In the station, the momentarily silenced conversations pick up and become an excited hum.
Sitting alone near the front of the cafe, a beautiful young woman seems lost in thought. Attired in an extremely tasteful travelling dress and surrounded by numerous pieces of hand luggage she is obviously embarking on a long journey. Apparently reading a newspaper, it is plain however that she is distracted and not a little weary. Sipping occasionally from a tall glass of iced tea she smiles politely at any who acknowledge her and even engages in charming conversation with one or two other travellers.
One of the first travelers to the window at the sound of the bell is a man in his early twenties. His features are regular and reasonably pleasing to the eye; his attire, from his hat to his gloves down to his boots, are fashionable without relinquishing suitability for travel. Prior to the Parsifal’s appearance the only two items of note were his distinctively long, blonde hair and his height, a shade above that of his peers. No sooner did the Parsifal hove into view, however, than his entire being seemed to light up from within. As if watching a beautifully choreographed ballet he gazes in rapt fascination with intense, blue eyes as the great craft descends from the heavens on high to consort once again with the earth and its inhabitants. “C’est magnifique,” he softly sighs as the landing sequence is completed. His look of joy slowly alters to one of longing and wistfulness then he shakes his head and quietly returns to the central area to wait alone. For a time he simply nods and exchanges polite greetings with the other travelers; while he does not actively discourage conversation with them neither does he encourage or pursue it.
The Königlich Luftschwansa employees finally prop open a set of great glass doors, a good twelve feet tall and giving definite panache to the boarding process. Before anyone can board, however, the Parsifal's travelers who were bound for Paris must first get off, and their luggage be off-loaded. Those waiting in the station can see a string of well-dressed people getting down the movable stair ramp, some poised and some apparently chatting gaily - although of course they are too far for anyone to make out the words. Ground personnel starts unloading the Paris-bound luggage, while the bags and suitcases of those about to embark are brought out to the airship.
One by one, the disembarking passengers walk towards the station building, entering through the glass doors, and the cheerful confusion of reuniting with their families and friends takes a moment to sort out. Finally, that group is politely but firmly steered away from the door, and the travelers about to board the airship start edging towards the doors.
Courteous porters offer to help with luggage, while the station-master comes out and attends to the verification of tickets himself. The process might seem longish, since he takes the time to salute adequately each of the travelers, but since there are only about two dozen of them and none of them have to carry heavy luggage themselves (unless they prefer to), the process is not too annoying. In addition, the station is vast and airy, so that the travelers do not have to be pressed against one another as in certain train stations.
Filing up, the travelers are let out through those majestic doors. Those whose first trip this is (and many who have been on board before), have trouble hiding their excitement - if they try at all. Many are just chattering away like children, delighted by the imposing silhouette of the airship casting its shadow over the airfield. As they walk closer, the Parsifal grows more overwhelming, until it seems pure madness to stand under something so large. The mind refuses to admit that a construction of metal plates and cables can be lighter than air; it just OUGHT to fall. The royal symbol of Bavaria, the Swan, is painted over the sides of the gas bag, as well as engraved in much smaller over the side of the prow. In fact, it soon becomes noticeable that the royal swan is reproduced just about everywhere.
The queue of passengers reaches the stair ramp, which vibrates a little under the footsteps of the boarders, provoking little squeaks of mock fright from the younger passengers. The last step, between the stairs and the side of the gondola, has a small gap, no more than a hand span's width, but overlooking an impressive height... KLB employees are standing on each side, ramp and ship, to help passengers through. They are both wearing the shipboard uniform, in the same colours as the ground employees, dark blue pants and medium blue tunic with gold trim, but of a much more dashing cut.
Once on board, the new passengers take in the grandeur of the decor: they arrive into the Lower Dining Room, which doubles as welcome area. The paneling is of smooth varnished wood, bearing frequent engravings of the royal swan, with deep red and blue velvet tapestries hanging. There is little furniture presently (employees push most of it out of the way for each boarding) but what there is is made of white pine or wicker, light-weight but elegant. Greeting the passengers is a uniformed officer with lavish amounts of gold piping, trimming and buttons on his uniform. He introduces himself as the First Officer, offering his compliments on behalf of the Captain, and with the help of other crew members, starts directing the crowd to the various cabins.
Those nearest the boarding door, looking back at the ground while they
wait for the crowd ahead of them to clear, notice one last figure hurrying
towards the ramp just as ground personnel was about to push it off.
A short man, carrying a traveling trunk in one hand and holding on to his
bowler hat with the other, is trotting across the airfield. He reaches
the ramp, scampers up it, and burst into the airship, letting out a small
sigh of relief. He then straightens up as the door is finally closed
and the ramp rolled away, and gives a polite nod to his fellow passengers.
Five feet tall in a respectable, but not terribly stylish, traveling suit,
he sports a close-cropped red beard. His bowler and shoes, not work
boots, match his suit perfectly.
The passengers quickly disperse, many eager to see their quarters. They find that the efficient stewards have already brought everyone's luggage to their cabins - unless, of course, one's personal servants have handled this matter, hopefully with equal competence. Even the third class rooms are comfortable, tastefully decorated, and well-appointed, particularly when compared with the sleeper-wagons on most average trains. The second-class staterooms are more luxurious than the first-class cabins on any ship of the line, and the first-class staterooms are staggering: spacious, full of little conveniences, and furnished with the utmost elegance.
On the bedtable of each room, the travelers can find a brochure summing up the rules on board the Parsifal, particularly pertaining to the use of Sorcery, Faerie powers, weapons, etc. The brochure also contains the schedule and mentions that a full tour of the airship will be offered on the long trip between Roma and Sofia, tomorrow night.
With the passengers either admiring the breath-taking view of Paris and then France unrolling rapidly below them, or stowing away their belongings in their cabins, the short period before evening dinner passes rapidly. Dinner is an impressive affair, with the cuisine and service both worthy of the finest Parisian restaurants and hotels.
As if by some faerie charm, a transformation has come over the lovely Catherine. Where before she seemed distracted and not a little distant, she is now full of life and moving around the vessel making new acquaintances as if that was her sole purpose in life.
As Fate would have it, Catherine, Jean-Michel, Antioch and Belpaire find themselves seated at the same table.
Antioch stands and introduces himself, shaking hands with Jean-Michel and Louis ("Please forgive the familiarity"). He bows to Catherine. Once introductions are made he sits back down. Antioch stands at precisely five feet tall, but gives the impression that his diminutive size means little to him. He is, it is true, fairly tall for a Dwarf, perhaps half a head taller than the average. He is very much at ease in the world of humans. His brown suit is well cared for, but not terribly stylish. Although he has clearly dressed for dinner, one suspects his wardrobe is somewhat limited. In all however, he is very well groomed and not badly turned out. His hair is brown, but his close-cropped beard is dark red. The travelers may notice that, unlike many Dwarves, Antioch wears perfectly matched shoes, not work boots with his suit.
"I am bound for Bayern, following a not entirely unsuccessful stop in Paris. I've been told by the few people I met in Paris that Bayern is the place for an inventor such as myself. I am in the hopes of finding a suitable workshop where I can spend some time working on my inventions. I must say, I was quite surprised by the value the French put on even my smallest of my patents.
"As you can tell, I'm from Sweden, but I hope my accent is not too atrocious. I trust my German will improve during our trip." Antioch shrugs, a half-way apologetic gesture.
"In any event," he continues, "this really is quite a ship, wouldn't you agree? I've never flown before and I eagerly look forward to the tour. I hope it includes the engine rooms." Antioch can hardly hide the eagerness in his voice, although he seems to know that the others at the table are unlikely to share his interest in such things mechanical.
Jean-Michel likewise makes himself known to his dinner companions. He transitions smoothly between French and English; however, his accent advises the listener that French is his native tongue. Furthermore, those who are familiar with the various French dialects and regionalisms will note that his speech patterns do not appear to be that of la belle France; perhaps he is from one of the colonies?
He is fashionably dressed with dark blue as the predominant color. His distinctive, long, blonde hair is well groomed and contrasts strikingly against the blue of his garb. He gazes at the others sharing the table with frank, curious interest; his bright, blue eyes stop at each as he acknowledges them. Despite his youth there is an air of maturity and steadiness about him that bespeaks a bit more worldly experience than others his age.
“My name is Jean-Michel du Pont-de-la-Vierge, captain and owner of the airship Nuage d’Or.” He pauses briefly to provide his dinner companions with his card. “She is currently undergoing repairs in Paris so I have found myself at liberty until she is airworthy again.” He eyes Antioch with keen curiosity. “I wholeheartedly concur with Master Antioch; the Parsifal is indeed a marvel of engineering and I too look forward to seeing more of her. Perhaps after dinner we may meet and discuss more of these matters? I am most interested in a professional opinion; while I fear my knowledge of things mechanical may not be entirely suited for the task I shall endeavor to do my best.” He smiles good-naturedly and awaits his companions’ response.
On the other side of the table, Louis Leopold Belpaire, after the obligatory introductions, kept himself rather silent, paying most of his attention to the delicious food. Now however, he takes one last nip from his coffee, puts down the china bowl and mixes in the conversation. "I guess a tour into the engine room can be arranged, Gentleman, Milady... It is one of the benefits of my profession that most captains are too eager to show me their crafts. Especially places like bridges and engine rooms. As soon as the occasion offers himself, I will propose to one of the officers to make some drawings of the technical places of the ship and it would be an honour if you would join me. "
“Au contraire,” Jean-Michel responds,
his eyes brightening up with earnest interest. “I am honoured by
your most generous offer. To personally see the famous Sorcerous
Engines will truly be a memorable event, one which I look forward to with
great anticipation. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavour."
