Floating Island of Knowledge

You find yourself at the docks of England in 1699. Ships of various sizes bob in the harbor, their sails rippling in the breeze. Sailors and merchants bustle about, loading cargo and preparing for voyages to distant lands.

You awaken to find yourself on a bizarre floating island hovering high above the ground. Around you, distracted scholars in elaborate robes wander about, their heads tilted upward, each accompanied by a “flapper” - a servant gently tapping their mouth and ears with a bladder to keep them attentive.

A servant approaches to demonstrate. He carries a short stick with a dried bladder attached to its end. “You see,” he explains, “our masters are so deep in mathematical contemplation that they need physical reminders to speak or listen. We tap their mouths to speak, and their ears to listen.”

You notice intricate mathematical formulas and astronomical diagrams floating in the air - projected somehow by strange devices. Nearby, a group of scholars argues intensely about the proper angle of a triangle, completely oblivious to their floating breakfast growing cold.

The scholars' abandoned breakfast sits on marble tables: exotic fruits that seem to float slightly above their plates, levitated by the same magnetic forces that keep the island aloft. Steam rises from untouched bowls of porridge, garnished with carefully arranged berries in perfect geometric patterns.