Captain's Log- The Start of the Whole Thing

A rather engaging young lady has taken up the task of novelising my adventures, and it has been suggested that I aid her in her endeavour by keeping a log of all the important happenings. She has kindly set me up on the Aethernet that I might share these little ramblings with the world at large, and I thought it best I begin at the beginning.

Our adventures began when I obtained the airship The Brass Unicorn (named her myself!), and set about putting a crew together for the purpose of scientific expeditions and all-around adventure.

First I put myself in contact with a dear friend, Tristan Abelard Fairfax, man of science, philosopher, and all-around good egg. Tristan is, disappointingly, quite the homebody, and declined my invitation, but it was my plan to hammer away at his defences (I believe here is where they commonly insert a ';)', to indicate jocular manner?)!

My second choice, as far as men of science go, was Professor Herbert Davies. Davies is... less calm, compared to my friend Tristan Fairfax. But, Davies is a brilliant engineer, a master of automata, a keen devotee of the study of ocean life (not sure how useful that is up in the air...), and like myself, he has a bit of an interest in swordsmanship. Sadly, for various reasons (it's all tied up with the Royal Scientific Society, politics and money I imagine), he can't run off with me just yet. Still, he's shown an interest, and may join us at a later date. In any case, he did supply me with my first crew member, a navigatrix in the form of Miss Lovelace Babbage.

Miss Lovelace Babbage is what Davies calls a 'gynoid', a woman-shaped automaton. Her name reflects her computational heritage, but she has thus far demonstrated an unerring sense of direction and a comprehensive understanding of maps and such. As for personality, she is a bit lacking, true, but one can't ask the moon.

With navigation handled, but still needing a good man of science to spearhead discoveries in those areas which are not my own forte, I turned to Mr. Norton.

Mr. Norton (whose Christian name I do not know, but whose friends call him 'Sphinx', for reasons unknown-- then again, perhaps his unknowability is the reason?) I have been in contact with through letters only. Our addresses were exchanged through a mutual acquaintance in the Royal Scientific Society, and Mr. Norton includes detailed drawings in many of his letters that reflect an aptitude for the natural sciences and life observation. Our correspondence has been intellectually stimulating, and he shows a ready wit, so I had extended to him my invitation.

After said invitation, I received a letter in which Norton regretfully informed me that he had an ill sister in his care and that this might prove an obstacle. I promised that, were the young lady able to travel, she would have her own private berth on the Unicorn, and would be under my protection as though she were my own sister. For the first time, I then set out for Norton's home address, where I hoped to persuade him in person.

In my next installment, I shall bring together the rest of the crew as we were on the start of our voyage, and describe the manner in which we set out, and what our specific aims were upon that maiden trip.

Captain Burton Wilder
The Brass Unicorn