The Golden Falafel cont.

The streets of Istanbul were unlike anything Frobisher had ever been forced to deal with in a long career of exploring even in his rare visits to landlocked cities he had never been in a city so crammed with humanity. The most pressing sense was that of the immensity of activity going on all about. A sussurous of conversations, crafts, animals and seemingly without end; the sizzling of food. This truly was the largest city in all the world. No wonder then that it should be the envy of the continentals. If only they had held this would still be the greatest bastion of Christendom. He was almost tempted to lead his men on an assault from within the city's legendary walls. Surely there was a reason his ship had appeared without any reason or warning in two strange warm lands. Perhaps there might be some clues in this mysterious land as to the enigma or their transportation. More importantly, perhaps there was some profit to be made of this uncanny occurrence.
Frobisher, being somewhat worldly made way easily through the crowded streets of Istanbul here stoppng to admire the quilting of an arming jerkin, there to inspect an ancient sword hilt patinating in the presence of so much material wafting in the afternoon breezes.. Meanwhile, cabin boy followed in his wake nervously making apologies and clumsily returning items to their original places. The music of the city kept all in order. The heartbeat of the people dictated a nervous calm.
From across the din came one small miraculous noise. "Falafel!" came a sweet call. "finest golden falafel!" the world seemed to pause as Frobisher wheeled about reaching for the front of cabin boy's doublet.
"Did you hear that?" he asked with a wild grin. "An English speaking woman who has food." he made a decisive gesture across the face of a bystander who ducked just in time. "land ho!"

If you are still reading, thank you. As my penance for missing the past few days writing I have elected to allow you, my audience, to force phrases upon me. Any single phrase left in the comments of the blog posts at www.twaberry.blogspot.com will be inserted and somehow justified. Thank you to those who have submitted along the way. I try to use as much as I am given.

The Golden Falafel

The ship's walls pulled in close to the machine and the trio standing around it. the planks all about squealed and protested against the strain until they seemed close to bursting with the pressure before just as suddenly as it had began the pressure abated. The ship and men exhaled as one and Frobisher, this time with Hawser and Cabin boy at his back stepped out onto the deck.
The scene which greeted him was, once again, inexplicable. All about were buildings packed close together with arches connecting them and aquifers running from side to side supplying the metropolis with water and shade. This is not to say that water seemed in short supply. Fountains were abundant and the city terminated on three sides at the edge of the sea with ports and quays waving out into the blue like tentacles of some mighty squid. People with olive skin bustled around the streets carrying exotic looking wares. Lording above it all was a cathedral of immense size.
"What is this place?" Cabin boy managed to squeak out.
"There's only one place in the world it could be." Frobisher responded with almost the same amount of wonder. "Constantinople. Which would make that the Sea of Marmera," he began while pointing to the south, "and that" he pivoted 180 degrees "Would be the Black Sea."
"It's just like in The Incredible Life and Times of The Imaginative Sir Shprentzel." Cabin boy added.
"Be that as it may, Cabin boy, it puts us very squarely not in Meta Incognita, again. Hawser, explain this."
"Beggin' yer pardon Cap'n but I not sure a-as how I could." he stammered, clearly both confused and excited.
"What exactly is this thing you have built?" Frobisher asked, still scanning the horizon. "I will remind you that it is most certainly not a pinnace, which is what I asked you for."
"A-as you say Cap'n. I don't rightly know though." In exasperation he went to lean against the wall of the rear castle knocking a number of planks from it. "We did that sweep transition right after you had us open the plans so alls I remember is openin' the papers, noticin' how curious they was and then Bob an' me were sawing and warping wood for a bit. All of the end bit musta' got lost in editin' cause next I knew we was near the straight and the thing was done." Hawser said before looking almost ashamed to have done so.
"Hawser," Frobisher began, "I am going to pretend I did not hear that. As are you, Cabin boy."
"Aye Captain." Cabin boy responded quickly.
"We are not going to speak of this again. Now fix that fourth wall. I am going into the city."
"Captain!" came a cry from the rail. Several sailors were standing, looking over the edge with concerned expressions. "There's a man here, looks like he wants to speak with ye." Said the brighter of the group, the sail maker. "Seems angry."
"Huzzah," the captain said flatly under his breath before making his way across the deck. As he reached the edge more important than the irate looking Saracen was the collapsed timbers, plaster, cloth and other assorted materials which had appeared all around the hull. This, of course, explained the fine view they had gained of the city from above. He turned back to the sailors. "Men, remember, these turks do not speak proper English and will not understand our Christian customs. So once I have gotten rid of this chap you are all on leave for the day. Enjoy the brothels I hear they were amazing during the crusades." He then turned back to the rail and leapt over the side. The man standing there was gesticulating heavily at the ship and the remains in which it was lodged. He spoke quickly in Greek which Frobisher did not even begin to listen to. "We are not here to invade!" He said slowly and loudly. "We will remove the ship in the morning." The man looked at him with mounting fury. He continued to shout and gesture to which the captain simply nodded making "mm-hmm" noises. "We really aren't getting anywhere this way are we?" The man was only getting angrier. In a moment of exasperation Frobisher, mighty commander of the northern seas, pointed to something behind the enraged Constantinoplian causing him to turn before delivering him a blow to the back of his head so hard that he was thrown to the small terrace on the next level down leaving his hat on the ground at Frobisher's feet. "Let that be a lesson to you Cabin boy," he said without looking at the young man who had just dropped down next to him. "it's very therapeutic. When life gives you lemons, punch someone in the face."
"Meanwhile, captain, something smells tasty." Cabin boy said, tugging at his collar in discomfort. The taller man took a deep breath through his nose.
"I concur. Smells like golden brown falafel. What do you say we find out how these Muslims like our money?"

There's part three. You'll have to take my word that they are in the year 1329. It becomes more apparent soon. For part four I would like to be more abstract. Let us have two nouns and a verb. Cheers for all of the submissions. Special thanks to Sarah Moore whose suggestions won.

Part 2: Ore Really

Having successfully navigated the bay to the south of the Frobisher straights the High Admiral of Cathay once again stood proudly on the rear castle with the ensign waving dramatically behind him. Beyond the bowsprit was the familiar lumpy form of Hall's island where the ore had been found and the fleet's duty would be discharged.
Frobisher had always been stronger than average. Through no effort of his own he had survived voyages to all of the world's most hostile places. Guinea had taken 60 men and left Frobisher and fifteen others to profit and now the arctic stood to give him similar numbers. Though no man had died yet on one of these adventures one could still hope. Perhaps the natives would stir up or a storm would blow in he thought, trying to maintain a positive demeanor. Up from the deck came the cabin boy looking timid as he generally did in the captain's presence. Cabin boy was of slight figure and wore clothes which, next to his captain, made him look nothing more than a beggar though he was of noble birth and to be trained by the great Frobisher for his own command.
"Sir," he said quietly from just out of arm's reach, "begging your pardon captain, where are we?"
"Meta Incognita," he replied, "the most manly of the unexplored continents. Where did you think we were going cabin boy?"
"Sorry, Captain. It's just last I remember we were just past Greenland." the boy said timidly whilst scrambling onto the top deck.
"That was days ago, you fool. God's wounds! Where have you been?"
"Sorry, Captain."
"and why did you not remove your cap to speak with me?" Frobisher bellowed clearly having just remembered to expect the obeisance.
"Of course, Captain." cried the boy tearing the cap from his head and bowing messily. From the deck came the cheery voice of Hawser.
"Cap'n, gosh but the past few days have flown. I can hardly remember doing any work but sure enough the thing you wanted us to build is done."
"Ah, brilliant!" The captain declared. "Let's have a look, shall we." With that he bounded down from the top deck followed by cabin boy. The trio the made their way along the length of the deck past the masts and the men still scraping away to the dark forecastle. Within they found John Hawser's brother, Bob beaming with pride. The two of them tended to have that kind of look on behind their beards. It seemed to be a familial trait. Next to Bob in the dim light which filtered in through the door at the forward end of the room was a strange mass of warped wood and contorting metal. It seemed to defy description, at the very least Frobisher seemed unable to describe it.
"What the, what, how! Ho... Hawser! What in god's name is that?" the captain finally managed to get out. "Well Captain," Hawser said cautiously, "I can't really say. Like I said I can't really remember how it all happened but we used the plans you gave us and I looked it over as soon as we'd done with it and it looks just like the one in the drawing."
"Let me see these plans!" Frobisher demanded in a building rage. Hawser silently gestured to the plans which were on the floor nearby, carefully weighted down with sample pieces of the ore which they had been sent to the new world to collect. "Well, Hawser. I do not know what this is but it is most certainly not a pinnace. The only actual mistake I can see is that you left off the weights here in the middle." he gestured towards the center of the incomprehensible tangle where a small basket had been suspended from a series of tiny curved spring hinges.
"Well Cap'n I couldn't figure how much weight to put in. It seemed important so I thought maybe you should be the one to do the honours, as it were."
"What have we got, weight wise?" The captain replied casting about the space for something appropriate. "Hand me some of that ore." He ordered, holding out his hand.
"Awright, Cap'n." Hawser said cheerily holding out the paddle once more.
"Not an oar, the ore."
"Oar not!" Hawser replied with a small laugh.
"Hawser," Frobisher said warningly, "Hand me the ore from the floor or else I shall break that oar across the back of your skull."
"Aoye, Cap'n" the sailor replied still having a bit of a laugh behind his thick beard. Frobisher received the ore into a black muckinger from his belt and made a small bundle of it. after giving it an experimental heft he placed it, as gingerly as could be expected of him, onto the balance plate.

The bowl, as one might expect began to descend slowly across the springs making tiny and increasingly more profound notes as it did so. with each spring the contraption seemed to draw the room's walls closer as though the entirety of the world were collapsing in onto the twisted and suddenly sinister looking device. With a flash the final spring made it's resonant "plunk" and with a great heave everything returned to normal.
On the deck came shouts form the crew.
"That was rubbish. Hawser, find the real plans and get to work. I need that Pinnace yesterday. We should reach land any moment now." with those parting words Frobisher strode from the forecastle cabin and onto the deck where the crew was standing about talking to one another. He grabbed the nearest man by the shoulder. "Birch," he demanded, "What is going on here. Why is no one scraping?"
"Captain, Sir! We suppose at this rate it might just melt off." the seaman cried out clearly trying to hold his composure.
"What," Frobisher bellowed. As he did so he widened his gaze. At this point a number of things occurred to him at largely the same moment. First was that the sea had been changed for sand which was intensely inconvenient. he also noticed that they seemed to be in amongst a number of primitive shelters and assorted scrubby plants. the last impression to make itself manifest was that they were no longer intensely cold but instead really very warm. Letting go of the sailor he turned to Cabin boy who was close at hand. "Cabin Boy," he said as a grin slowly crept over his face. "get me my sword and my conquering suit."

Going to the rail he estimated the distance. With the ship resting more or less evenly on the sand it was easily a twenty foot drop. So with a quick breath he leapt from he side. Cabin boy above tossed down a sword wrapped in the golden yellow jerkin. The captain shrugged on the jerkin and girded the sword. The time had come for answers. He strode purposefully across the sand toward the largest of the shelters. Arriving at the hide wall he reached for the opening flap, grasped the material and violently ripped it open stepping into it's space. "I want to see the leader of this operation!" He shouted in his best queen's English. in the next moment, as his eyes adjusted he saw. a man in a blue uniform and cap with brass liveries standing over a bound man in skins.
"Excuse me," the liveried man started in an accent unlike anything Frobisher had ever heard, "who the hell are you?"
"I am Captain Martin Frobisher, High Admiral of Cathay and all of the Waters to the North and East. Official commander of these lands as appointed by her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth."
"An English-y man, eh? I suppose you think you run things here then? Well I just captured me Geronomo, king of the injuns in the name of the United States Gov'nment. So where's that put us?"
"This is the king of these people?" Frobisher replied.
"Yeah, What do you say to that?" With no further ado the imposing captain laid a fist across the man's jaw and laid him out on the floor. He then turned to the chieftain. Pulled off the ropes binding him and recited the speech he had been forced to practice. "You are hereby a subject of the English Crown and Her Most Glorious Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, by God's grade first queen of the britains to bear that name; Queen of England, Ireland, France, Wales, the Virginias and wherever the hell we are now. Congratulations." With that he strode from the tepee and leapt to the rope ladder which was being dangled from the ship's side. "Don't get out, we're not staying!" He declared to all about before striding back to the forecastle. "Hawser, we are not in Meta Incognita. Give me something heavier."
"All I've got is me family's priceless golden salamander." The sailor replied.
"If you're very good you may have it back when we are done." Frobisher said flatly before snatching the small statuette from Hawser's hand and placing it on the balance plate. "Here goes."

So, That's part two. Again this is draft quality, that is my defense for any mistakes made. Thank you to all who made suggestions. For tomorrow I will require a book which has never been written and a year between 0 AD and 1900 AD.

"Yes, and... : a Great American Novelty"

White caps broke against the ice floes on the horizon. All around was little but chop and tiny bergs. The only exception being one small point in the distance. One blessed tiny piece of creation which was neither heaving nor smashing. Surely this was a great new island as the ship had long passed Greenland some hours ago. Upon the rearcastle Captain Martin Frobisher lowered his spyglass and looked to the men on deck scraping rime from the planks as they had since crossing into this hellish latitude.
"Make our course 20 degrees north by northwest." He bellowed, "land ho!" The captain closed his eyes to enjoy the well trained response of his men.
"Aye, glorious commander of the seas!" the chorus returned. He opened his eyes and turned to the man at his shoulder, "Best, you have the helm. I am going below to put on my conquering suit."
Frobisher, high admiral in the New World and to his thinking national hero of England descended the ladder to the deck and with his characteristic codpiece leading the way, strode into the cabin.
Within the blessed dimness of the small room was all that truly mattered. His charts, his journals and his wealth. He had come on this voyage not just to open the vault of gold which waited in the mouth of the straight named for him but also to trade with far Cathay. All of the fine English wool and other trade goods would make him a rich man when he found his way through the ice choked passages to the far side of the world.
He tugged the golden yellow jerkin over his leather doublet and changed into a matching codpiece before reaching for the Italian prepared charts so that he might record the discovery. Upon removing the fresh parchments he discovered a small weathered packet folded within their oilskins.
Setting the charts off to the side he opened the packet, folding it open to reveal a letter rendered in tiny spidery handwriting. He set the letter to the side in favor or the set of thin papers closed within. They seemed to be plans for some piece of construction. Ah, the plans for my pinnace, he thought, knowing that he was to build a new long boat for navigating the tight passage leading to the Frobisher straight.
With that the mighty captain hefted the flagpole which he kept by the door for just such occasions and strode back into the frigid air on deck.
"Hauser!" he bellowed. From behind him came a ready reply.
"Aoye Cap'n. Have you need of me services oar not? Get it? Oar..." with an earnest cast he held up the oar he carried habitually for the captain's benefit.
"Yes, yes I have. Put that thing back in the dinghy. I need you and Bob to get started on my pinnace."
"All due respect Cap'n but neither Bob or me goes that way. I c'n get cabin boy for ye."
"No, you fool! The pinnace, to be the largest ever built for exploring the tight passages to come."
"That's nice and all..." the sailor began, looking embarrassed.
"Look, here are the plans. Just get to building if thou ever wish to see thy own pinnace again."
"Aye, cap'n." Hauser finally replied taking the papers and heading to the forecastle. With that Frobisher once more mounted the rearcastle once more. The wind caught in the flag and whipped it out straight behind the captain as he turned behind to the fleet which followed and signaled them onward to the horizon and the immortality it promised.

So that's part 1. Obviously I have not had the time to do any edits and I feel as though much of this project will be first draft quality at best. If it is worth re-working that will happen when it is all said an done. Thank you so much to everyone who made suggestions. for part one and also to those for part two. I am taking submissions via twitter, facebook and in the comment feed of the actual blog page.

For part 2 I need suggestions for an historic figure and an artifact. I will begin tomorrow morning so you have until then to make your suggestions. Remember, this is the Internet. Make your vote count even if it's for something silly.

Improv Novel

Those who follow me on twitter may already have gotten the scoop but for those who like to get their info in long form I have a new project which I hope will distract from the increasing wedding planning fervor. I have decided in a last minute sort or way to participate in the national novel writing month. This means I have done no planning and as such will need to make it up as I go along. This made me think of how much I love doing improv shows. So I am going to do this novel in the style of those games. For the rest the month or until you all lose interest and abandon me I will post topics for suggestions from the audience. The next morning I will post what I have written based on your suggestions. My one caveat, I am not signing up for the official site and am not trying for their word count goal. That's the trick with improv, knowing when to cut the gag.

So, for day one I need audience suggestions for a title, genre and location. Here goes nothing.