The Journey to…the Mysterious Island – BardHaven’s Story Part 2

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As the Baron arrived dockside at the Cay, Phillip continuing to belch and shake out in the sea, he let his eyes pan across the tumultuous scene before him. He smiled slowly.

“Ah, it is good to see the circus is still in town.” He let his shaded gaze pick out the specific individuals he sought. He spied the Duchesses Loch Avie and Carntaigh fastidiously seeing to their baggage near the clipper ship that they would all be sailing to Phillip in, courtesy of the Royal Society. “There are the bare back riders…” Next Dr Oolon Sputnik in whispered conversation with a winged young woman as he packed scientific instruments in cotton batting. “…The Mentalist…”. Then, Baroness Palowakski trying to explain to a street vendor that she certainly could hold her Lava Lager thank you very much. “…The Bearded Lady….” The indigo tressed Darkling Elytis balancing for no apparent reason on the roof of one of the customs houses. “…and of course, The girl on the flying trapeze.”

Suddenly there was a commotion in the crowd as trooping up to the dock came Mr. Gnarlihotep Abel, leading a train of baggage penguins. “Ah, how could I have forgotten….the clowns have arrived.”

Leaving Kashmir to see to securing his Valise on the ship, The Baron of BardHaven shouldered his way down the docks, followed by exclamations and the occasional splash until he came to where Dr. Kate Nicholas was speaking with a slender, chinless colleague with bright orange hair.

“Ah good…Baron. It seems your team has arrived and as you can see, the Aronnax has been provided, ship shape and ready to set sail, just as the Society promised. By the way Sir, this is the Society’s leading expert on volcanoes, earthquakes and other loud things, Dr. Beaker Honeydew, newly returned from the Henson Institute due to this disaster. He is ready to answer your questions.”

The dark Baron nodded. “I see…Well then Doctor, what can we expect when we get to Phillip?”

Dr. Beaker Honeydew looked startled, then ran about the dock a bit until he bounced off a wharf pillar and lurched to a halt to begin his lecture.

Bid biddle bid biddlet. Buliddle pilt biddlele lit biddle.”

BardHaven was quite surprised by this. “Indeed? I would have assumed the opposite.”

Dr. Honeydew made a noise remarkably similar to a chicken laughing. “Whauwhauwhau. Bitiddle buliss buydillet boouild biffiwibble.”

BardHaven nodded. “I see, and if those conditions are not prevalent?”

Dr. Honeydew made a gesture similar to slitting his own throat. “BOOOOOdilele bit bulddle dud.”

The odd looking doctor then exploded.

BardHaven turned back to Dr. Nicholas. “Ah yes, we thank god for scientific assistance. Now then, if all is ready, we will be on our way without further ado.

As he made his way to the ship, where most of the group were already arguing over who got the top bunks, BardHaven passed the aged Dr. Sputnik being helped to the ship by a dark-haired, fairie-winged beauty.

“I say Sir, and who is this dainty morsel?”

Sputnik half turned, noting the Baron for the first time apparently. “Ahhh yes…BardHaven…this is Miss Lightfoot, my companion.”

The Baron smirked and cleared his throat. “Ah yes old boy, that is fine by me..but if you will take my advice, you’ll call her your Ward. These duchesses can both be a bit of a bluestocking, at least when it’s involving someone ELSE’S stockings…if you catch my meaning, duffer. No telling what sort of squawk they will raise if they know you brought a…professional along. best keep her…under covers. Wink wink nudge nudge.”

As Dr. Sputnik stared uncomprehendingly, BardHaven continued on towards the ship, pausing for a moment to speak back to the Timelord as he mounted the pier. “However, I must admit, I am impressed. I hope I can keep such a companion occupied when I am your age, old boy. Keep at it, you give hope to we youngsters.”

Feeling someone staring at him, the Baron then turned back to lock eyes with a horrible old crone of a housemaid, trying in vain to hide behind her Mistress, the Baroness Palowakski, who was momentarily distracted as she filled a half dozen hip flasks.

Ah, Minnie, isn’t it? No Millie. Yes, that’s it. How are you, dear?”

Millie began then to howl in Latin, refusing to look at the Baron.

“Ah excellent, glad to hear it. The Baroness treating you kindly is she, Maxxie?”

Abandoning Latin, the woman was now chanting ancient Aramaic scriptures backwards, having dropped to her knees.

The Baron nodded…”Good Misty, good..and your health holding up?”

At mention of her health, Millie began to froth green ooze from her mouth and nose, levitated two feet off the dock and spun around counter clockwise, while barking like a Great Dane.

BardHaven smiled. “Well, lovely catching up with you Monty, but now, I have all of Caledon to save…so farewell.”

Stepping away, the Baron muttered to himself…”Sweet old woman, shame she’s possessed.”

Swinging up onto the ship, BardHaven came to face with Mr. Abel, who was arranging berths for his penguins. He was about to make a comment regarding the best wine to serve with penguin when he spied Darkling Elytis, carefully supervising the loading of a barrel onboard the Aronnax.

“Hmmm…I wonder what that’s all about?” He was not able to answer that query immediately as with a shudder the Aronnax raised her sails, and the expedition set off at last, to find out what strange mystery Phillip may be sitting on.

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3 Comments

  1. Say WHAAAAT?
    Ahem!

    Terry mumbles something about poncy queer “barons”.

  2. “Bearded?! Bearded?!” *She quickly pulls out a hand mirror, and carefully inspecting her face for any signs of unexpected and unwanted facial growth, smiles in relief when all she notes is dab of froth from the lager on her chin. Wiping it of, she quips* “Ahhhh…he must mean ‘beer-ed’ lady!”


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