CHAPTER 1: UNCLE PHINEAS

Life was looking up for Barnum. What with his business venture paying off, he was feeling very good about life. Even better, his business partner, who happened to be none other than Lionheart, famed hero and champion of the Crucible, had nothing to do with the success of the venture. No, Lionheart had gone off heaven knows where for ten years, and it was Barnum, and Barnum alone, who built the Westcliff settlement from the ground up. Who cared if it was raining ninety percent of the time, when there was an excellent swimming beach? Why, you were soaking wet when you went swimming, even if the sun was shining! What did it matter that the Crucible was still running a bloodsport arena in the neighbourhood? People paid buckets to see that sort of thing! What did it matter that the beautiful little town was surrounded by an inhospitable forest full of hungry balverines? That's what Lionheart was for! Oh, and the tour caravans, of course.

On reflection, Barnum realised that it was strange that his venture had paid off so well.

He wondered why he had thought it was a good place for a tourist trap.

Then he wondered why the tourists flocked to the trap, and realised he was less the fool than they.

On the evening when our tale starts, Barnum was enjoying a pint at the inn and pub, with none other than Lionheart.

Barnum drained his mug and called for another round, contentedly surveying the game master taking money from the gamblers bidding at spinnerbox. By and by, he asked Lionheart, 'So, my cromulent partner, how fares the life of an adventurer?'

It should be noted that Barnum's vocabulary was somewhat … unique. Twenty years prior, he had come into the possession of a thesaurus which was as cromulent as the entry which made him believe that cromulent, in fact, meant 'faithful'. He had never shaken the belief that it was a genuine publication, and even had it committed to memory. No matter how much Lionheart protested the contrary, Barnum would never believe it was a fake.

Lionheart sighed, 'You know how it is. Hard work, little pay. Still, people seem more grateful these days.'

Barnum did not pursue the issue. He knew that Lionheart had recently had some harrowing experience or another, and was not one to make a man talk when he would rather not. Instead, he said, 'Blasted conviviacious weather today.' The rain was smattering against the windows angrily.

Lionheart nodded, draining his own mug. 'I'm used to it, though. When I was a child, we lived in a shack, and slept on old flour sacks. The walls never kept out the rain when it was this fierce.'

Barnum felt guilty. 'Well, old chap, I remember when I first met you. You couldn't have been more than eight, and your sister not much older. If I'd have known how bad things were, I would have … Well, I'm not sure, really. I recall giving you my last coin. All part of the failed picture-taking enterprisinating.'

'It's alright,' said Lionheart, 'There's nothing you could have done. We were orphans. There were many orphans on Bowerstone, then. It was what it was.'

Barnum sighed. 'Such is life, eh, my boy? Such. Is. Life.'

After a short silence, Barnum took his new beer, kicked back in his chair, and said, 'Fell on hard times early, myself. Got through them alright, in the end. It's mostly thanks to my uncle Phineas.'

Lionheart said nothing. He sensed a story coming.

Barnum continued, 'Old Uncle Phineas. What an entrepeunator he was. Did you know he inventified the Albion Circus?'

Lionheart felt that this claim might be rather spurious, but he knew it was best not to interrupt.

Barnum continued, 'Yes, it's quite a tale, I'll tell you that.'

And he did.

…

Phineas Taylor Barnum's father was a tailour. He worked in Bowerstone, city of trade and capital of Albion. In those days, tailours were not especially well paid for their services. It was the time before per-manufactured or specialised clothing, for the most part. However, in Bowerstone, there was one shop – the shop where Phineas' father purchased his fabrics – which stocked a select number of gentleman's suits. While his father was inside purchasing silk and linen, Phineas would stand beneath the sign which read 'Pants!' and depicted a pair of gentleman's breeches with a spool of thread and a needle, gazing at a handsome, red suit coat and a waistcoat with gold buttons. The ensemble would be topped by a tall, black top-hat, balancing on the head of the mannequin. Phineas dreamed that one day, he would own the full outfit.

He dreamed a lot of things. He dreamed that he would marry Charity, the daughter of one of his father's rich clients in Fairfax Gardens. He dreamed that he would own a beautiful mansion in Fairfax Gardens, and live there with his wife and children. He dreamed of greatness. He dreamed of adventures and far-off places. He dreamed of being a Hero, like the great Heroes of old, in the time before the fall of the Guild.

Then, one day, Phineas' father died. It was during a bandit raid while they were on the road from Bowerstone to Oakfield. Phineas survived by diving into Bower Lake and holding his breath as long as he could. His record was five minutes. He wanted to help, but his father had told him to hide, and he knew he was too young to do much.

When he resurfaced, the other travelling traders were all dead. Only their guide remained alive, and was looting the scene of the massacre with the bandits. Phineas immediately realised the guide was an undercover bandit.

That day, he decided to add revenge to his list for the future.

For the time being, though, he could do nothing but stay alive. He made his way back to Bowerstone, and lived on the streets. It was a hard life, full of violence and hunger, but he managed to steal or earn morsels of food, as well as paper and charcoal to write to Charity, who had been sent to an elite boarding school in Greatwood. He would wait until the postmaster went by on his rounds, and sneak the unstamped letters inside the postmaster's pack to avoid payment.

It was a terrible life.

Then, one day, opportunity came calling. A sailing ship stopped by with a crew from a place of which he had never heard before. It was called Bloodstone. He eavesdropped on the gnarled, leathery seamen as they swaggered from pub to pub. He learned that Bloodstone was a town of seafarers, pirates and rapscallions. It all sounded terribly exciting.

Then Phineas learned why it was such an obscure location. Townspeaple made the sign of divine protection when they saw the sailours, and whispered of the town beyond Wraithmarsh. Phineas knew that Wraithmarsh was an evil, cursed locale, full of balverines and hollow men, and, so legend said, the specters of banshees which waited for a sentient being to wander into their realm, to be destroyed or enslaved by them.

The only way to get to Bloodstone by land was through Wraithmarsh, and the only boats that would dock there belonged to men of ill-repute.

However, Phineas was desperate. He signed up for a place in the crew. He was a hard worker, after all.

Ten years later, he was self-sufficient, but did not like to remember those years.

Phineas married Charity against her parents' will, and they set up a home in Old Town. It was the oldest section of Bowerstone, but also the poorest.

They were happy when they were together.

Not so much, however, when Phineas went to work at the accounting firm in Bowerstone Market.

However, they had two beautiful little girls, and overall, things weren't too bad.

That might have been an end of the story for most, but for Phineas Barnum, it was just the beginning.