A dictation of the National Rail Museum curator orientation of the class of 2015
The speaker is Doctor Ashton Collins, lead mechologist for the N.R.M.
[Recording start]
"The first of May 1925, Solario came to me today asking for a once-over. I found this odd because I had just finished maintenance on him not a week ago, but I'm not foolish enough to ignore my engines when they say something is wrong. He asked to speak with me in private. I eyed him warily but had my workshop cleared regardless. He said he was visited by a small purple tank engine the night before. From how he described this engine, it didn't match any I knew about, but I let him continue. He said that she had chosen him to be her guardian, that his kind heart and brave soul would be of great use, and then he paused, a look of contemplation on his face. I pressed for more, and he said she disappeared in a flash of golden light.
My expression must have been one of unamusement because Solario asked for a chance to prove what he saw was real. I was unsure of what he meant but allowed him to, and before I could object, a golden dust enshrouded him. I could see him start to fade. I must admit it gave me a shock. I fell from my stool, but something most peculiar happened. When the dust settled, before me where Solario was, a man stood, dressed in a green jacket with 'LNER' embroidered across the left breast pocket, while the right had '4473' across it, and his trousers matched the same green with black and white lining down the sides.
His hair was a blinding blonde, and he had eyes as green as his coat. I called out to him, worried about what had happened to my engine, but he proved his identity by reciting the conversation we had when he first awoke two years ago, and we talked at lengths about how he came to be like this. All I can say for now is this is most interesting."
An excerpt from Sir Nigel Gresley's journal taken from the LNER Archives
"I know what you all are thinking: Gresley must have had something stronger than tobacco in his pipe."
[Dispersed laughter is heard in the crowd]
"But you'll learn that stranger things happen here than just the errant railfan trying to get themselves locked in overnight, and it may shock you to find out that Gresley wasn't off his rocker when he wrote that entry in 1925. You ten have been selected because you have shown the most aptitude and drive to be curators to help look after these places of history. But a curator's job isn't just planning maintenance and events; sometimes this job can be more than what we signed up for.
Gold Dust is the lifeblood and souls of sentiences everywhere. Now before you write me off, allow me to demonstrate."
[Dr. Collins produces a small wooden box from the desk he's standing at and takes out a weathered conductor whistle]
"This is a conductor whistle. It was entrusted to the NRM after its owner passed. Now, while gold dust can be volatile if misused, it can be a useful tool for those who wield it."
[Dr. Collins wipes the mouthpiece with his sleeve before blowing into it. The whistle bathes him in a cloud of golden dust, and he disappears, causing the group to panic before he reappears in the back of the room]
"Pretty neat, right?"
[Dr. Collins's sudden reappearance startles the class]
"Sorry for the scare, everyone, but I'm guessing you're going to take what I say a little more seriously. Sure, every machine you have needs its fuel to run, but this is what keeps them alive; it's their soul. But while I am the Lead Mechologist, I think it more prudent for you to hear from someone who doesn't just use gold dust for cheap tricks. So please welcome Mrs. Morgan Merlin, or as you would know her, LNER 4468 Mallard."
[A tall, tanned woman in a dark blue suit and matching skirt with bright red heels walks into the room with a look of unamusement on her face]
"How many times do I have to tell you not to use gold dust for cheap tricks?"
"Ducky, I was just using it so they'd take me seriously."
"Get out and stop calling me Ducky."
[Dr. Collins leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Mallard clears her throat before continuing]
"Now, a few things before we continue. 1. Yes, I'm the real Mallard; the one downstairs is a replica. 2. Yes, I can still use my engine form; I just haven't in a while. 3. Do NOT call me Ducky. Understood?"
[The group either nods or responds in the affirmative]
"Now, it is part of your job as curators to help us guardians complete our duties. As such, most of the UK's guardians and all remaining former guardians that survived scrap are stationed here. Myself, Evening Star, Lode Star, and Sterling Number One are all guardians, and I have been given their permission to talk about their status with you.
This brings us to another point. Knowledge about guardians is hush-hush. You tell no one other than those above you or your fellow curators this information. If fallen into the wrong hands, it could spell disaster for sentient machines everywhere.
Now..."
[Morgan writes on the chalkboard]
"Application of gold dust. Gold Dust has many uses, one being teleportation like you saw Dr. Collins demonstrate. However, it is not just for travel; it can be used for offense and defense as well."
[Golden dust envelopes Morgan's hand and condenses into a golden blade. She holds it up for the entire class to see]
"There are many dangers guardians face, many of them being supernatural in nature. Gold dust not only allows us to battle these threats if necessary, but it also defends us from them as well."
[Her "blade" disperses into a cloud of dust again, reshaping into a shield]
"As you may have already guessed, gold dust allows guardians to shed their mechanical forms and become human with an appearance based on both the physical attributes of whatever machine they are and their perception of themselves."
[Morgan disperses her shield, the dust seeps into her skin, then she gestures to herself]
"As you can see, my engine is in perfect condition, and I'm very confident in myself and my abilities. That's not to say that heavier-set guardians aren't confident with their forms; much like you humans, our forms still have a bit of an unknown factor when we transform into them for the first time. Things like skin tone, hair color, and eye color vary.
Some of you may have noticed I mentioned that guardians face off with the supernatural. One of our most common foes are wraiths. They are spirits of machines that have died and chosen not to travel on to the Grand Terminus, and instead choose to roam and seek out humans. I can assure you, you do not want to find yourself cornered by a wraith. There are not very many things in this world that will bring you a more painful demise.
The other type of enemy we face is called the Blighted. They range vastly from machine to machine, but they are the poor souls that have been unfortunate to have been infected with Crimson Rot. Their minds are subsumed by it; they become a husk of their former selves, attacking any machine to siphon their victim's gold dust, feeding the parasitic infection.
Make sure to check your machine carefully for unusual rust or rotting of wood or other such materials, especially if they work in or around a scrapyard. Crimson Rust likes to fester in scrapyards to drain what little gold dust dying machines have left."
[Morgan's watch beeps twice, causing her to sigh]
"We will explain the rest of a guardian's duties in the next class, so do be there. Class dismissed."
[End of recording]
