Announcing the New Babbage News Digest

At the promptings of Mr. Tenk to make myself useful, I've taken the wiki project up.

The Task: turn the bewildering swirl of storytelling in New Babbage into one continuous story.

I fully sympathize with those who choose not to read the Ning or sift through twitters and bloggers.

Sadly, it is the nature of our environment that only a handful of people may participate or witness events that are of interest to a much larger group of people. When the stories are good, the events are buried in the Ning as fast as they are posted, and a person who is a away for even a few days can completely loose track of a story he was following.

I will not pretend to be interested in all of your stories, some are so far outside of my interests that I have trouble reading the entries. I would hope people would get into the habit of updating signifigant events, even with a simple line item statement of an event which happened in world that was interesting or propels a plot. If you have used the blogs or forums to further flesh out the event, if you would be so good as to include a link to further reading, we would all appreciate it.

The Current Events page of the Wiki is now organized into a news digest so everyone may read it without the onerous task of mining the Ning. Tenk spent a couple hours indexing the past week of blogs, the volume was more than he expected. Hopefully others will follow up with maintaining their stories on the News Digest.

http://cityofnewbabbage.com/records/index.php?title=Current_events

Haul Out

Now that the zombies were put in their graves again, I decided to have my ship hauled out for an overdue bottom scraping and repairs. My former rooms at Bolyai had been rented out a pair of priests, so Tenk invited me to stay in the the city hall clocktower with him until the job was done. I had my reservations about this, seeing the flimsy shack clinging precariously to the side of the tower, but Form required me to go up and make a show of it. I took my bedroll and a few essentials from the ship after I saw her securely into the cradles and made my way to City Hall.

Tenk was up in the clock, literally, wiping the soot from each gear with a freshly oiled rag. He was beside himself with pleasure over his beloved machine. That is to say, he was insufferable.

"I've finally fixed her," he said, beaming proudly. "I knew she just needed a little care. She hasn't missed a second for weeks."

I stood closer to the small stove and rummaged about for tea, something to take the chill off the morning, then settled in to watch Tenk work. He sat and wiped the groove of a bevel gear as each tooth became exposed from its brother gear, chattering aimlessly about his long battle with the clock.

"hrm," he muttered. "This shaft always walks itself out. Just tap it back into place..."

He gently put the head of his wrench on the shoulder of the bevel gear, and gave the butt of the handle a bump with the blade of his hand. The gear and shaft assembly nudged back into place with an audible click...

And then the clock stopped.

Tenk blinked. His face went pale for an instant, then livid red.

"IT WAS PERFECT!" he yelled.

Quickly he stomped over to the bench and took a oiled bundle down from the shelf. He unrolled his tools to the table and began working on the tempermental old clock. It was time to find better lodging.

"I'll bring back a sandwich," I said over my shoulder as the elevator arrived. If I was reading him right, it would be several days before he would be in a mood to talk again.

Plague

I've been looking forward to my weekly run to New Babbage and settling into a comfortable pub in Clockhaven while waiting for new cargo, so I was a bit concerned when I got into the city and noticed everyone was carrying arms. I dropped to the street as someone yelled "down!" just in time to hear the blast of a shotgun from a doorway. When I looked up, a woman was down to the right of me, a red splatter on the cobblestones where her head used to be. The man with the shotgun quickly ushered me inside and explained the situation. A zombie plague was loose in the city.

Something had gone very wrong. I had to find Tenk.

He wasn't far. The Red Rum Cave was a favorite haunt of his, some even called it the real mayor's office. An old place with a low ceiling from a less nourished time. He often drank there with the stout mining folk when they were in town. I never liked the place, I always felt I couldn't stand up straight in there without knocking my head on the rafters.

Tenk was standing inside waiting for his evening breakfast, worrying bits of flash off the jaws of his favorite spanner with the thick nail of his thumb. He leaned the spanner against the post of the high stool and did a neat vault into a sitting position at the bar as the barman brought up a cold board meal. He nodded to me as he began eating and I settled awkwardly onto the stool next to him and ordered a sherry.

"Baroque! In town long this time? Here, have some food, I'm famished from all the roadwork."

I studied his face. Tenk had changed. He did not look well. Not at all like the cantankerous little man I was used to. He went on, waving his free hand.

"I'd like you to check some numbers for me, I can't seem to make them come out right."

Now I knew something was wrong. His numbers were never off. Then I noticed the fresh bandage on his hand. "Tenk! Your hand!"

The barman stopped his work and looked wide-eyed at the bandage and reached under the counter for his rifle. Tenk stopped eating in mid bite and looked about.

"What?" asked Tenk.

We both looked pointedly the bandaged hand.

Tenk looked quizzical as his raised his hand.

"This?"

We nodded.

"It’s a burn. I was over at the foundry with Henry last night and got splashed with some flash. Figure those odds. Hurt like hell. "

The barman leveled the barrel of his rifle at Tenk's forehead. "Let's see it."

Tenk scowled and unwound the linen strip, showing a cluster of clean red blisters on the back of his hand. Satisfied it was not a sign of infection, the barman lowered his rifle and poured us all a round.

Tenk hopped down and angrily rewrapped his hand. He picked up his wrench and clipped it onto his belt, and headed for the door. "Fine," he stormed. "You two can barricade yourself in here for the night. I have clocks to wind. Good night. I hope you have enough ammunition."

We watched him disappear into the fog behind the hostel. There really is no reasoning with him once his ire is up, but he would be over it by morning. I was more concerned with his request. As long as I have known him, his numbers were never off.

…to be continued.

Zombies in the sandbox

New Babbage acquired a tenth sim from GeneCo, the famous organ bank. I suppose I should not have been surprised at the zombies that appeared after the terraforming started. The usual highjinx will continue for the coming week.

19 lots of new land are available.

Drinking at the Gangplank

I have become master of a tramp steamer, making runs throughout the steamlands. Clockhaven has these great little taverns. Stop in if you are in the neighborhood.

photos from Armada burn

After the usual delays, here are my photos from the Armada build burn. This was a spectacular event and by the ever creative Armadans as they said goodbye to the original 1.0 and cleared the sim for restructuring under Captain Rem.

Loki Eliot goes to the fair

Loki Eliot's presentation of the New Babbage RFL campsite