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When a mysterious enemy destroys the Habsburg Sky Armada's latest skyship over London, the ship's designer and her captain will expose a truth that will rock the foundation of the Empire.

England, 1740.

    London has been the second city of the Habsburg domain since the ascension of Mary I and Philip of Spain’s son to the throne in the 1600s. It is an empire that sprawls from North Africa to the Low Countries, across broad swathes of the German lands to the New World.

    While clockwork airships and other scientific wonders help prop the empire up, superstition still dominates it and not everyone is happy to see these technological wonders in the sky. A secret organisation seeks to blunt the progress of science and technology by destroying a new steam-driven airship – the Majestic Maria – on its maiden voyage over London.

    As a result, the ship's designer Professor Benedict Hawthorne finds himself plunged into a dangerous, shadowy world. The cabal wants to break him and discredit his innovations, and will use their full power and deadly secret arms to achieve this. A mysterious assassin, the dreaded Kit, seems to have taken a disturbing interest in him.

    He has many allies, though.  His friend Heneage Grimley, Captain of the Majestic Maria; the enigmatic spymaster Arthur Melbury; and Hawthorne’s childhood sweetheart, the brilliant, unconventional Agueda Santiago.

    While Sir Arthur uses all of his cunning and artifice to keep him out of the Inquisition’s clutches, the professor must apply his intellect find out what happened to his airship, while surviving a number of attempts on his life.  The truth gradually becomes clear to them – that far from being a tragic accident, it was foul sabotage by the Inquisition.

    Harried on all sides, across the rooftops and through the crowded streets of London, their search for allies leads them to a fateful meeting at the Frost Faire on the frozen Thames and the creation of a dangerous alliance.

    It will become their first step in discovering the truth behind the Northumberland Codex.

Tim Chant grew up (mostly), went to school in East Anglia and university in Scotland. He took his History degree and did the only thing he could with it - joined the civil service. When not shackled to his desk he writes science fiction, alternative historical fiction, historical fiction and any other fiction that takes his fancy. When not doing that, he's an inveterate roleplayer and wargamer (and getting back into historical fencing). He lives in Edinburgh with his partner and their two rabbits.

Hawthorne breathed deep of the damp air, tasting the acrid tang of the smoke now streaming from the stacks; felt the wind on his face and knew briefly what it was to be alive in the way Grimley and the others lived. He could feel the beat of the engine's pistons through the soles of his boots, like the thud of a great beast's heart. The deck moved, always in motion, tilting slightly as Grimley put the Maria  into a slow, wide, glorious turn around the dark bulk of Heathrow, and all of London was spread out before him.

            Winding his arm into the shrouding, he leant far out over the quarterdeck railing and drank in the sight of it.  A dark mass of close-packed houses drifted by under the curved keel of the gondola, separated by narrow streets that still flickered with night lights. The city stretched for miles, bisected by the winding silver ribbon of the Thames. The river was still very much the lifeblood of the city, despite the growing numbers of skyships that plied the skies. Already the working boats were putting out from the docks along the curved shore, skiffs and pilot boats spreading canvas as they headed down river or tacked up beyond London, barges and longboats looking almost like pond skaters as they crept out towards fat-bellied merchantmen and tall, powerful men o’ war lying at anchor in the deep channels further downriver.

            Benedict let his gaze follow the bends of the river until it fell upon the wide arches of Westminster Bridge and the sullen mass of the Palace where dry old men debated decisions that, in the end, were not theirs to question. Then came the old London Bridge, cluttered with four centuries' building and topped with the latest crop of heads from the Tower. It seemed that every month some new batch of traitors went to the headsman's block, which was made even busier now that the practice of burning heretics had ceased.

            “Any friends or colleagues?” Grimley asked. The captain had joined him at the rail with a glass that he directed towards the bridge, checking for familiar faces distorted by death and hot pitch. It was an old Navy custom that the Sky Fleet had inherited. “No one we know,” Grimley added after a second, before handing the glass to Benedict. “But that's not what you're interested in, is it, Bene?”

            Benedict took the glass with a smile and looked beyond the old to the new, hungrily seeking out the new bridge works. He picked out the Tower of London, and found the bridge he had helped design.  The bastions that would anchor it astride the Thames had already risen up to challenge the spire of St Paul's, the venerable Cathedral mercifully spared by the Great Fire and untouched in the Bloody Year when Philip of Spain and Mary Tudor had secured England for their son and the Empire.

            Hawthorne forced himself to look beyond the technical and engineering marvels of the bridges, to take in all of London in its grimy glory as Grimley gave the Maria more speed and altitude. The towers and spires of the magnificent Royal Palace, 'London's Alhambra', trapped his gaze with their seemingly unplanned, chaotic complexities. Churches, mercantile guildhouses and stately homes reared out of the crush of buildings around the Palace, petered out the closer one got to the river and the Rookeries. The sullen bulk of the Battersea hydrogen works dominated the East End, a temple of the new industries that contrasted with the pleasant green oasis of Queenspark, an easy ride from the Palace; and further out the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens where those with less blue in their blood  could take their ease.

            The ship was challenging the lowering clouds that were already swallowing the dawn. Hawthorne was lost in the joy of it.

            “There's the old Retribution!” Grimley said happily, pointing towards the mighty dockyards further along the Thames, the true commercial hub of the city. Lying off the docks and quays was a Royal Navy squadron, great line of battleships which looked from this altitude like nothing so much as the toy ships Benedict had played with as a child. “I served in her as a midshipman. The Santa Maria, moored three along, was my first posting after I made lieutenant.”

            “Providence itself at work, Heneage, that we should observe the old Maria from the new,” Benedict offered, trying to steady the glass on the two two-deckers Grimley was pointing out. Most sailing vessels looked somewhat similar to him.

            “Something along those lines, old bean.”

Read more...

The Adventures of Sky Captain... Smyth? And his Merry Crew (Part 1)

Tuesday, 3 July 2018

So, as I mentioned in the last update I ran a RPG set in this world (using Savage Worlds with Mars 1889 for the skyships, for the nerds out there) and thought it would be fun to write it up as a short story. I'm going to put it up in bits and at the end provide an outline of the actual game. So, without further ado:

Habana, Cuba. 1730.

Captain Smyth stopped in the doorway of One-Eyed Juan…

I'm told I'm neglecting my backers

Monday, 2 July 2018

It's been a busy old month, work wise and so forth. One thing I did find time to do is run a game set in this world, about thirty years before The Frost Fair and following the adventures of a skyship's crew as they find themselves over their heads in intrigue and danger related to the Northumderland Codex. I used some pregenerated characters, but the players really ran with what I gave them and made…

So, is this Steampunk?

Tuesday, 5 June 2018

I suppose that depends on what Steampunk is to you. The best definition I've seen is that it's Victorian science fiction. I've always thought of it as taking the mannerisms, styles and social customs of Victoriana and either projecting them into the future (or, at least, beyond the 19th Century) or into alternate worlds. With more than a smidge of steam technology, of course.

I've gone the other…

Unexpected writing day!

Sunday, 20 May 2018

Planned game of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay has fallen through today due to player illness, so an extra few hours of hammering a keyboard. Thought it would be nice to share a bit more of the text, so backers can see more of what they're getting and, hopefully, encourage people who are considering it to jump on board before this skyship leaves dock...

This is the prologue, so no spoiler risk here…

Airship pledge level

Wednesday, 16 May 2018

A couple of super cool people have already bagsied one of the Airship pledge levels, earning the right to name one of the skyships in a later installment (and there will be a later installment - this is planned as a trilogy and is part of a much bigger universe). I'm really pleased by this pledge level and look forward to seeing what comes forward.

There will be a fair few skyships that feature…

Welcome to my world

Thursday, 10 May 2018

Unbound tells me updates are a good thing. So here's an update.

First off, thank you to those who have already pledged. This is an exciting project for me and I'm really looking forward to bringing it all together.

Secondly, and probably most importantly - this is a finished manuscript. Although I'm sure there will be editorial changes, you won't be waiting round for me to finish writing it…

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