LordHavelock
Meteorite
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2014
- Location
- West Coast
The skies this high were frigid, and although clear, much dew condensed and collected especially on anything which did not rapidly cool to the ambient temperature, or else sizzle away the offending moisture in sizzling steam. Cloth and skin, warmed by the body was the most vulnerable victim when exposed to the air, and the chill that accompanied it, but no pilot or air-crew worth their salt was about to complain. Not with the promise of fortune and rewards on the horizon, and as the sun rose a little higher in the sky, it was clear just what a promising fortune that was. Caelcelium, the legendary air-ship had been considered lost for generations, but there it was, floating with more languid grace than any legend (or anything so large) had a right to. Even at this height, only the keel of the massive fortress-airship was visible, as had been the intention of the mad tycoon, Baron Haerkenfeld who had commissioned it. A high-altitude, hybrid carrier and colony ship, designed to sail in the extreme limits of the upper atmosphere on the most theoretical of principles, as a haven for the greatest minds of the past and repository of their combined knowledge. Of course, given Haerkenfeld’s reputation, he attracted all the manner of unsavory characters as well as more legitimate fortune-seekers looking to get in on the ground floor of a modern marvel. The exact circumstances under which contact with Caelcilum was lost were not known, scarce enough was contact following the launch of the initial superstructure and shipments of raw supplies (by experimental unmanned balloon) fell off. Most presumed some sort of disastrous error in the design or flaw in it’s construction doomed Haerkenfeld’s legacy and all those aboard, but now, looking up into the belly of the beast, the scope of his dream seemed nearly too big to fail.
All gunmetal and bronze, the keel of the great airship itself was ridged and dappled with the amazing apparatus which still kept it aloft, and even the most reckless of pilots would know to avoid the bizarre outputs of whatever lost technology now kept Caelcelium afloat. Their were maintenance hatches and docking ports, still clearly marked thought their luminous signals had since been shut off, apparent in the rising light, but any seeker who knew what they were doing would know to fly higher, to the main docking areas, for a more full survey rather than risk mucking about in decades old engineering sections and works. Besides, how could anyone who’d flown so high or so far lose out on the chance to view the legend in it’s fullness, and what a sight it was: A great sweeping skyscape, with a quintet of towers set in a slightly offset star presented itself, towering over smaller turrets, spires, minarets, and whole raised platforms. Skyways of steel and glass connected and intertwined the buildings in a network of adjoining passages about the upper portion of the sky-ship, and similar sections of honeycombing provided light to the upper decks to form what looked like atriums, open assembly areas and centres, and even gardens and greenhouses.
Despite the glittering majesty of the Caelcelium, resplendent like a bronzed work of art in the morning light, as the eye dwelt upon it, the picture became more . . . unsettling. No pickets or sentry ships were aloft around it, no lanterns or signals illuminated docking areas or even hazards, and not a single sign of visible life could be made from without.
All gunmetal and bronze, the keel of the great airship itself was ridged and dappled with the amazing apparatus which still kept it aloft, and even the most reckless of pilots would know to avoid the bizarre outputs of whatever lost technology now kept Caelcelium afloat. Their were maintenance hatches and docking ports, still clearly marked thought their luminous signals had since been shut off, apparent in the rising light, but any seeker who knew what they were doing would know to fly higher, to the main docking areas, for a more full survey rather than risk mucking about in decades old engineering sections and works. Besides, how could anyone who’d flown so high or so far lose out on the chance to view the legend in it’s fullness, and what a sight it was: A great sweeping skyscape, with a quintet of towers set in a slightly offset star presented itself, towering over smaller turrets, spires, minarets, and whole raised platforms. Skyways of steel and glass connected and intertwined the buildings in a network of adjoining passages about the upper portion of the sky-ship, and similar sections of honeycombing provided light to the upper decks to form what looked like atriums, open assembly areas and centres, and even gardens and greenhouses.
Despite the glittering majesty of the Caelcelium, resplendent like a bronzed work of art in the morning light, as the eye dwelt upon it, the picture became more . . . unsettling. No pickets or sentry ships were aloft around it, no lanterns or signals illuminated docking areas or even hazards, and not a single sign of visible life could be made from without.