Ex Marquess the Spot, part 1

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Log Info

  • Title: Ex Marquess the Spot
  • Emitter: Jinks
  • Characters: Aimarra, Aryia, Paenitia, Seyardu, Edinaz
  • Place: Alexandrian Airstation
  • Time: Friday, December 17, 2021, 9:15 PM
  • Summary: An airship bound for Isobar is abandoned by the military who promised an escort, forcing them to hire mercenaries to fill in. Paenitia, Aryia, Seyardu, Aimara and Edinaz are there to fill in, some happier with the assignment than others. The Red Knight recognizes the captain, Jelani Oyenusi, as a hero of the Merkabah Seige. His First Mate, Taalkee, a goblin is an efficient pencil chewer and ship director. Aryia checks things out, the ship is tightly run, the mul'niessa is impressed. The remaining passengers arrive, a gnomish Marquess of Isobar, with two children, who is somewhat known. She's very unhappy when Paenitia introduces herself, even more upset when she realizes adventurers will be protecting her. The crew do their best to split up nobles and guards and get underway. Once in flight and when things are settled they have a meal together. Paenitia encounters a retired revolutionary and the crew talk about their captain and officers. Edinaz notices something odd about the cargo. As the meal runs late, the gnomish noble boy steals some food, and his sister sings a raw love song. And Ramirez is Sir Pretty-boy not appearing.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aimarra      5'1"     128 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears.
Aryia        4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her.
Paenitia     3'0"     34 Lb      Halfling          Female    A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
Edinaz       6'10"    296 Lb     Half-Orc          Male      Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  NPCs of Note  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jelani Oyenusi                   Human             Male      Captain, Esquire and Honored of Dalton, Reosian.
Taalkee                          Gobling           Female    First mate and engineer, light green skin, spiked hair.
Rhiaww Boonclaw                  Egalrin           Female    The medical purser, mottled brown with a hooked beak, Daeusite.
Ath-the-Second                   Human             Male      Navigator, Myrrish and Phurai Dae, well built worrier.
Bertrand                         Human             Male      Crewman, former Mad Dog revolutionary, comrad of Paenitia.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks        3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

The contract promises to be of moderate length; a trip Isobar within the Myrrish kingdoms on an airship. Pre-arranged plans for guards and the like had fallen through and so the Engineering Enclave has sought to sub-contract through the Guild of Explorers. Mercenaries with experience as hands on a ship could expect a bonus but such a skillset is not required.

And here you are!

The clouds filling the night sky are dark and ominous and the wind is cold and driving this high up the mountain road. As it is at most hours, the airstation is bustling; there's a particular nervous energy as traffic has increased in the wake of transportation magics' neutering.

Firmament's Caravan is docked and waiting, floating beneath a massive white-and-silver balloon as its three tri-bladed propellers rest idle. It stretches over fifty-feet from bow to stern and windows on the dock-facing starboard side describe two lower decks. The middle of the deck hosts a massive steel furnace instead of a main-mast and rigging strains up from mizzen, foremast, and at least a dozen places along the ship's railing.

A half-dozen crewmen move about the deck and dock, both, loading ship's cargo, supplies for the voyage, and passenger luggage. Their clothing is uniform-- practical, well-fitting, and clean-- even if their heritage is not. They go about their work professionally, both focused and efficient.

The captain and first mate-- who doubles as the chief engineer by the look of her-- wait on the deck to greet and gladhand. The captain tall reed of a man in a snug black longcoat, bald with massive sideburns and a cleft chin. The gobber woman seems comically miniature in comparison with stumpy little ears, eyes hidden behind dark goggles, and greasy head-to-toe leathers dangling with all manner of tools.

Airship, sea ship, somewhat horizontal skill set transference Maybe. Hopefully. So Aryia signs up.

And here she is.

Letting out a low whistle at the sight with her bag over a shoulder, the mute pivots her head up and down across the length of the docked airship. She tightens the scarf around her neck and double checks the job instructions before attempting to board.

Which she does so by approaching the captain and first mate with a wave from the hip.

Flying, by any method, is not a thing that Aimarra is accustomed to. Brown as a berry, from hair in complicated braids to complexion to leathers to the complex wooden bow across her back, she seems to actively work at being nondescript, long ears tucked back beneath the braids that wrap around her skull. The one exception is the breastplate she wears.

She, too, stares up at the expanse of airship before her, eyes roving over every magnificent inch.

"Hola!" A small figure in red armour calls, as she marches up the gangplank to the deck. With a wide-brimmed hat and a stylized man's face as the visor to her full plate, she is unmistakably a knight. "I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna. The Haranna of Isobar, and I am here as the sky escort."

"I have the questions. Do you have the land strip on the top of the balloon, and the deck stables for the flying mount? Are the Snapleaf tokens necessary or is there the catch magic for falling overboard?"

At the other end of the gangplank, Ramirez waits on the airstation dock.

Seyardu somehow found her on this journey, and seeing a few familiar faces, and hearing their destination, Seyardu smiles to them from the deck of the ship. "Peace on your nests, all of you." She greets, "You are from Isobar, yes? Your knowledge will be valuable, as I do not know the full scale of this job yet."

"Yes." Paenitia answers, "from the mine town Haranna at the start of the longest wind canyon through Isobar. The land is hot and barren, with the scattered, intimate settlements of mine-towns on the mithril seams, and the abandoned ones when the seams run as dry as the love of a jintera."

Aimarra has nothing to say as the others speak of Isobar, so she instead pulls her dual cloaks around her tightly. Gloves, scarfs, hat, hood, all in woodland colors, the half-sil looks positively frozen in the cold, driving winds this high up.

The captain smiles wide and waves you aboard the ship eagerly. His skin is almost as dark as the sky but patched haphazardly a much lighter tan. His sideburns show hints of grey. His sleeves have wide, drooping cuffs with three brass buttons each and they glitter in the glow of torches arrayed around the deck for extra lighting. His left arm is crooked and holds a tricorn hat sporting a dull-grey, gear-shaped glasp advertising his Reosian faith.

"Welcome one, welcome all. Please, climb aboard and make yourself home. I am Captain Jelani Oyenusi, Esquire and Honored of Dalton, formerly of the Myrrish Navy, and now a man and captain of my own making." His smile folds further upwards at Paenitia's greeting and he dips a low bow. "So fortunate for us to have a cousin on this voyage, Sister Paenitia. And..." he straightens, nodding down to the gobber.

"Yeh. Platforms run the length of the bladder, rigging and ladders go up. If'n we need patch jobs en route." The woman's voice is gravelly, griding out from behind short, needle teeth. Her skin is a light green with dark red freckling at cheek and brow. Her hair is a spiked and tangled knot of the same red. She's writing in a book, her answers half-distracted. Finally looking up again she wiggles her nose in thought and then issues a dramatic sniff. "Deck at the fore opens all the way down to animal stowage."

She sniffs again and looks up at the tall human. "Missing one passenger party and the toughs. You don't look like the fancy folk we've got comin'. So... meet the toughs, cap'n."

"Most wonderful, Talkee, thank you." The captain agrees, nodding again. "We were to have a detachment of Isobari Regulars on hand but plans were changed at the last minute. Reos forge our bonds of friendship."

"'n yer getting paid, 'course." Talkee grunts.

Two members of the crew pass, a squat Khazad and meaty half-Sil carrying either end of a bulky trunk. The trade off 'heav's and 'ho's to set their steps into a rhythm.

Aryia gives a wave from the hip at those she recognizes, and nods to the captain that welcomes them. Though, she takes note of what the gobbo says and where things were, her eyes flicking from them to the ship itself. A snort leaves her at being called 'the toughs' and she provides a solid thumbs up.

Getting good graces, she climbs aboard, idly walking about to get familiar with the layout of the ship.

GAME: Aryia rolls profession/sailor: (12)+15: 27

"Good day to you," Aimarra answers the captain, graciously enough, but minimizes her words, keeping her cloak pulled taightly around her. Not having any knowledge at all around a ship, whether on land, on water, or on air, she keeps herself near tbe bow of the ship, keeping herself clear of sailors' activities, but in a position where she can see.

"Ah, so you will have the lay of the land, if we need. This is good, Dame Paenitia." Seyardu smiles, though the speaking of their plans does get her attention. "Can you tell us why the guards who were supposed to be here are no longer? This is strange suddenly. Could you tell us more about what we are supposed to be doing here?"

The Isobarian knight bows to the captain, and the first mate engineer. "Ok! I go look at the fore deck hatch, then I bring Ramirez aboard. Say if you want the wait on this or for us to follow you out."

The passing khazad and half-sil get a glance, as does the trunk. "The fancy folk, they are travel heavy? Are they notable of Isobar." She grins around at her comrades, noting Aimarra's cloaks, "do not worry, it go heat up soon."

Suddenly, the little lucht laughs loudly, a cacophonous giggle that sounds like both language and barking, "Are there the Mad Dogs aboard?" <gnoll>

Aryia returns a few minutes later, her having taken a walk along the ship. "Captain runs a tight ship and crew. Place is spotless. These people know what they're doing," she signs to anyone that could understand her, the mute giving a thumbs up for her seal of approval. <Handspeech>

Aimarra's lips twitch in Paenitia's direction, but Aryia's hands have her attention, and she turns to watch. "Captain runs a tight ship and crew. Place is spotless. These people know what they're doing," she translates briefly, then looks back at the captain.

"My days holding a commission are over, lady, and so the military does not always offer me the most detailed of explanations. I would guess the need for the detachment elsewhere was more pressing... and the Enclave and government agreed that suitable replacements could be found here, in your wonderful city." Captain Oyenusi answers Seyardu patiently, tilting his head in mild apology.

"What's a Ramirez?" Asks Talkee, looking from the captain to Paenitia. She chews the backside of the pencil with her back teeth while she raises her eyebrows over the goggles. "'n, yeh, we got snapleaves. All kinds of dusty'n maybe a bit moldy. Never needed'm." He words mumble past the pencil before she pulls it out, mindless of the spittle drippling down it. "Plenty of rich folk. What d'you count as 'notable?'"

The captain glances down at the gobber, chuckling in good humor. "Most are monied. Some are titled. We yet await the marquess..." He explains in greater detail. "These people have paid good money for fast and secure voyage. We are here for the former," he smiles again to the Sith-makar, "and you the latter." He nods simply to Aimarra and Aryia are the assessment of his ship.

The conversation on the deck of the ship continues-- as does the bustle in the station at the other end of the gangplanks. The loud clopping of hooves announce the arrival of massive and wondrous draft horses pulling a gorgeous and glittering carriage. The crowd is force to part and fall back, allowing the conveyance to park near the last of the luggage being loaded up by the crew. The driver, a gnome, gives a whistle.

A side door swings open and a well-dressed Arvek Nar unfolds out and into the open air. He lingers stoically with a hand braced against the frame of the carriage to look up and down the street before stepping down and tugging his dress coat proper-straight and smart. He has a look of mild annoyance about him and the bearing of a butler, turning back now to kick down an extra step and offer a hand to the next passenger.

One after the other the gnomes are ushered to the street. A lady of some station, clearly, with elaborately coiffed a brilliant, bloody red that matches her eyes. She has the look of a statue, carved meticulously from a single piece of stone the color of burnt umber. She wears an evening gown that seems impractical for travel beneath a long, furlined coat the bends around her figure. She steps out and waits to one side with hands folded one over the other near her waist.

Next come the children, a boy and a girl; twins by the look of them. The girl wears a similar dress but of a more modest cut with a higher neck, long sleeves lost under her heavy, furlined coat. She sulks even before she's helped down from the carriage. The boy stands out in his proper, dark blue attire. His mouth doesn't shut and his eyes seem fit to fall out of his head as he gapes at the airship.

GAME: Paenitia rolls knowledge/local: (7)+11: 18

Jelani Oyenusi is a recognizable name, especially to Isobarians. There are more than a few tales of heroism around his actions during the Merkabah Siege. Ex-pats would also be aware of an Isobari marquess living in Alexandria, who has dwelt there for some time. She left the oversight of her holdings to her daughter since she was widowed almost a decade ago.

Clearly an older daughter, obviously. The sulky child with her now would have been an infant then.

"Notables, they would be the important nobles from Isobar, with the titles," the red knight answers Taalkee, then continues proudly, "and Ramirez the brave, he is the ivory peacock-andalusian hippogryph with the wonderful plumage."

She waves dock-wards, indicating her noble steed exactly at the moment that the elegant carriage rolls in front of him He blends well, lost in the background.

Undeterred, unnoticing, Paenitia looks up at the captain, "Ah! You are a hero of the Merkabah Siege. Thank you for the service, and the great congratulations for captain your own freehold ship now."

The disembarking marquess and children draw her attention, "Ah. I have hear of her. The Marquess, She have the daughter managing her holdings back home."

Edinaz was on the airship the whole time. He doesn't talk much, though. He watches, face solemn, since it's important to be solemn, right?

Aryia watches the commotion from the deck, a brow raising over her shades. A lot of fan fare for a family. She glances off to the side, about to gesture a question, but Paenitia answers it for her. She blinks some, and shakes her head. Wasn't anyone she's ever heard of.

But still, it felt strange that it was now that she was involved in these more high profile endeavors. Especially if the Isobar military wasn't telling their captain much to begin with.

"Ah, so we are dealing with important people. I did not realize I would be one picked for such business, but I will do what I can." Seyardu sighs, glancing at those disembarking as well, and listening to Paenitia's speaking. "So, they are an important person, yes? I hope our presence will not be needed, but the fact that we are hired in the first place, it does make me a bit concerned. They would not do so without reason, after all."

"Sher," the gobber nods at the Lucht. "Go'n get yet bird." She flips the pencil once between her fingers before looking down to scribble some more notes. "(don't care how fancy yer bird is I ain't bowin' to him...)" she mutters to noe one.

The captain bows once again when Paenitia reveals she's familiar with his history. "I was honored to serve... and doubly-honored to be recognized. A great many good men and women did every thing they could in those battles-- a great deal more than we as their commanders had any right to ask." The wide smile fades and his gaze grows momentarily distant as he thinks back on those times. The tall man shifts hat hat out from under his arm and holds it in both hands, shaking encroaching thoughts away. "I assure you, though, the stories that I breathed the aether back into our engines with nothing but will and a love for my countrymen are... slightly exaggerated." He blushes faintly, though it's difficult to see save where his skin is lighter.

"If I could excuse myself, please," Jelani takes a long step to the side, readying to meet the marquess formally. "Taalkee will have you seen to your berths."

The gobber sniffs, looking up with just the slightest hint of annoyance. She wrinkles her nose and looks around, giving a sharp little hiss and calling for 'Kasdrat.' A bronze-skinned Khazad man drops two burlap sacks next to a waiting pile and turns around before jogging over. "Soldier's beds for these ones..." she rattles, conjuring a half-salute from the crewman.

On the docks below the Arvek Nar directs three crewmen in unloading the back and top of the carriage. The gnomes have packed a fair deal of luggage. The three of them meet and wait to be escorted aboard. The marquess speaks quietly to the girl who continues to pout while the boy begins to stray towards the ship. He's asking the butler something in gnomish and pointing.

Aimarra declines to make herself known to the marquess and her family, instead straightening and letting the dual cloaks she wears blow a little away from her, to reveal the weapons and armor she wears. It is a silent move, but she turns her attention away from the "notables", instead scanning the outside of the airship and its environs for any threats.

Edinaz watches from the rail, mostly trying to stay out of the way of the crew while still doing his job.

GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (4)+17: 21
GAME: Paenitia rolls sense motive: (2)+13: 15
GAME: Edinaz rolls sense motive: (18)+1: 19
GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aimarra rolls sense motive: (19)+2: 21

The captain is clearly nervous. Likely about meeting the important lady and having her, and her family, on his ship.

Aryia is busy leaning against the railing, her watching the ensemble arrive from above. She gives a thumbs up to the side without looking, catching the 'Soldiers' beds' bit with a blind thumbs up towards whoever was talking to them, or of them.

Her eyes slide from the marquess to the captain. Back to nobility. Back to the captain. She frowns some, then pulls away from the railing. "Come, let's check out our lodging. I have a feeling the fancy lady won't like seeing a bunch of adventurers." <Handspeech>

Edinaz leans back from the railing, heading in towards the centre of the ship. He glances towards Aryia and gives a vague nod.

GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)

"Okay! I get him." Paenitia answers Talkee cheerfully, clanking towards the rail and calling out orders, "Ramirez! Come aboard!" He heads for the stern, around the marquess' immense carriage. "No, the other way aboard!" The peacock-andalusian reverses direction, heading forward, whickering at the draft horses as he passes them.

He's immediately shouted at, as a wagon is backed between him and the airship. The double stacked barrels hiding him. There's a squawk as he passes another group of hitched horses.

Stepping around those, there's a shout, and one of the trim sails unfurls and falls, once more cutting him off from view.

Aryia signs a wise warning, but it and Aimarra's subtle gesture of strength, to say nothing of Edinaz's overt display of strength, are lost on the little lucht. She approaches greets the elderly marquess and her children as they board.

With a flourish, she bows. "Great Holas, Marquess, and the children. I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna, Knight of the Pillar and Paladina of Tarien. I am provide the escort for the flight. You and the little ones have the protection on my honour as a knight."

GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (7)+5: 12

There's something vaguely familiar about the kids, but she can't place it.

Aimarra had caught only half of that signing from Aryia, half-turned as she was, but she turns in time to see the latter half of Aryia's signs - and then Paenitia's pompous introduction. She shoots a -look- at Aryia, and then at Edinaz. "You may well be right," she murmurs quietly, "Let's find somewhere else to be."

"Yes, you are probably correct, Aryia." Seyardu nods, watching everything unfold before her. "We should find them, after Paenitia is done speaking with her. I would not leave her alone with them, just in case. I know the whims of nobles can be questionable at the best of times."

Edinaz nods once, curtly, to Aimarra, then answers Seyardu "That's a lot of whimsy-with-firepower in one place. Maybe some of us should fade into the background, even if we need to keep an eye out." He, for one, works towards the doorway.

"Kasdratin Blessedshaper," the dwarf introduces himself with one hand flat against his chest. His blonde hair is pulled back into neatly-braided rows and drape down into a bulging ponytail. His mouth, cheek, and chin are scarred with burns, ruining his ability to grow a beard; tufts of scraggly fuzz peek out here and there between the twisted layers. "Come on," he waves with the same hand, turning and trotting towards one of several stairwells that lead to the lower decks.

The marquess was just being led up onto the deck, hand-in-hand with the captain. His back was crooked and his knees bent so he could hold his hand low and flat, palm-up, and she could rest her gloved hand there. She doesn't snatch her hand away when Paenitia introduces herself but the way she pulls it back makes it clear his gesture is no longer appreciated-- or even tolerated.

The marquess isn't elderly. In fact, it's quite likely that she's only recently entered middle-age for a gnome. Only the faintest hints of age have begun to crawl from the corners of her eyes as the finest of lines. Her bearing shifts from reserved and aloof to imperious when the paladina finishes speaking. She speaks rapidly in gnomish, not quite raising her voice.

"Marquess Larkennian was promised an escort of Isobari military; she specifically requested that there be no local militia or mercenaries aboard." The Arvek Nar speaks, a basso rumble of barely-supressed annoyance. He takes up the rear, wrangling the children. The girl has her arms folded and needs be steered with the gentlest of touches between her shoulder blades. The boy has a steadying, well-manicured goblinoid hand on his shoulder-- that is until he slips it.

The gnomish youth ducks low and scrambles forward, running right up and in front of the Lucht. He has short red-hair like his mother, though it's streaked with shock-white as if treated with highlights. He blinks big eyes and turns his head curiously, rattling off something in gnomish. "oh, uh... why do you wear the mask, miss?" He corrects himself, the 'nar already closing to drag him backwards.

"L-lady... that is to say, ma'am, miss... M-Marquess. Marquess Tresstindiani Larkennian... the detachment was reassigned. Last-minute arrangements had to be made..." stammers the captain, his composure shattered.

Aryia was halfway down the stairs to the quarters as she picked up that introduction and exchange. She pinches the bridge of her nose, and shakes her head. A glance to given to Seyardu, and she gives a big shrug. "Going to be honest, me sulking about to keep an eye on things sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. A mercenary ex-Charn mul'neissa. Best if I stayed faaar away from this."

She makes her ways to the quarters. <Handspeech>

The marquess said more or less what the butler relayed but it was more flavorful in its descriptors. A phrase of note: "My cousin promised me the military escort to avoid needing this rabble. I don't want his ilk near my children." the Boy said exactly what he asked Paenitia in tradespeak but in Gnomish first.

Despite herself, Aimarra can't help but turn her attention towards the brewing confrontation. She doesn't follow all of it, but nods at Aryia as the other woman makes signs and turns to disappear. "She is not wrong, but we are likely to be dismissed regardless. The gnome and her brats may fly without guard for all I care." <handspeech>

GAME: Paenitia rolls intimidate: (14)+13: 27
GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (5)+9: 14

"Ah." Paenitia says, metaphorically stepping in it and struggling to recover. She slips into gnomish to be polite. Her head tilts up so she can face the Arvek Nar, then turns so she can address Marquess. "I issue the great apologies for the behaviour of the Isobari Military, but this the matter I have no hand in. They decide they do not show."

She bows, "Which is why I approach and make the introduction, so you will feel the manner of security." Straightening, she adjusts her cape of immense white peacock feathers.

It's at this moment that Ramirez works his way around the barrel cart. He launches and makes a short glide to the bow. There's a shout, the forecourse is raised, but a ship-hand's mistake drops the outer jib and flying jib as the peacock-andalusian lands. His wide white wings, all of him, are lost as these sails hit the deck.

The Red Knight glances forward, quickly, facing the young gnome. Her eyes are bright, she sounds cheerful, a voice matching the stylized grin, "It is the vows. I wear it as my face is so ugly, and it scare my enemies." <gnomish>

"Raaaaah!" The Dark Lucht suddenly shouts at the Arvek Nar butler, then winks at the boy. Up close, this gesture is visible. She bows again, "see?"

"Well, it is worth looking into, at least." Seyardu sighs as the mute takes off, and the other with her voices her displeasure. The cleric waits nearby, just in case things took a turn for the worse.

The gobber is frozen statue-still at the exchange, her pencil wedged between her teeth like a pipe. Some flexibility creeps slowly back into her form as she turns slowly left and right, wondering what might come next.

The Arvek Nar jumps back from Paenitia when she squawks, snatching up both children bodily and dragging them behind his considerably larger form. The boy is laughing but the girl gives a shout of protest, taken utterly by surprise.

Tresstindiani is startled but recovers her composure quickly, closing her eyes and looking as if she's counting to ten silently in an attempt to smother her temper. After a pause that seems like it might not end she finally opens her eyes and utters a brief phrase in gnomish, immediately repeated by the shaken 'nar. 'Our suite, captain. Please.'

The Khazad never slowed in leading those following below. He cants his head back in recognition when he sees the gestures being tossed back and forth. "No worries. Boss will smooth things out. Butt-head rich people wouldn't be here if they had their own ship to fly on." It's not the smoothest signing but it's clear Kasdrat has a conversational grasp of the language. <Khazad Handspeech>

"T-taalkee, please." The captain finally finds himself, deliberately lifting his hat and setting it into place on his head. He takes a long breath, making sure to force as much calm authority into it as he can find in the wake of the marquess' chilly request. "Show the family Larkennian to our guest suite."

Aimarra heads belowdecks.

Edinaz says, ""I'll be in my bunk."

Taalkee takes the gnomes another way. The adventurers are being given berths intended for the soldiers. There's another proper suite on the deck below the captain's cabin that the nobles will have.

Well, Paenitia won one of them over, two more to go. It will be an interesting voyage, the end of which will determine how much favour she's curried with these notables compared with the esteem she's lost with her comrades. It's a good thing the Marquess doesn't understand handsign.

Dirty looks are another thing. That's what masks are for.

There are more ship-calls at the foredeck, to raise the sails. Heave-ho, up they go. The glorious peacock-andalusian spreads his wings in a proud, rampant pose. Ramirez is ready for his close up.

'Ruaaawwwk!' The deck opens up and drops him into animal stoarge. His moment of pedigree prestige, stolen.

"Nooo!" The dark lucht cries, abandoning the captain, Taalkee, and running to the front of the Airship, "He is the delicate pretty boy! Do not mistreat him so!"

Now she's below decks, checking on her mount.

Seyardu sees everyone taking off, and sighs, before following the others into where they would be staying. She does catch Paenitia dealing with Ramirez before going down, and chuckles. "Yes, do take care of him." She shouts back to the crew, before disappearing inside. Hopefully there was not too much trouble if she did run into the nobles again.

Tensions ease as the flamboyant folk on the deck disperse. The crew finishes loading from the dock and the last two officers return aboard (even if none are around to play witness). Once the goods are onboard and stowed and/or secured the calls begin across the ship readying to depart.

More of the crew appears as the Firmament's Caravan weighs anchor. A dozen men and women set to work as three of the officers watch from the poop and Taalkee keeps her place near the furnace.

One last warning call to 'brace' by the captain is echoed by a dozen voices before the ship's furnace roars and the crew casts off the mooring. There's a lateral shift and a brief, gut-tossing sense of weightlessness. Then the propellers begin to spin, a queer, lazy, whup-whup-whup that returns a sense of physical weight to the body. The world tilts subtly on its axis and then pushes you back with a steady, palpable force as the airship takes flight.

It isn't the same feeling you have on a ship at sea but there are parallels. Different people endure the curious sense of moving-while-standing-still in different ways. The deck is available for those who need the air on their face to quiet a distressed stomach.

The crew keeps busy for some time and that includes the coming and going of the officers. Besides the captain and Taalkeee, there's also the medical purser, mottled-brown egalrin with a hooked beak wearing the surcoat of a Daeusite sunguard. She's friendly-but-busy, always rushing about with barely the time to pause and consider you with one of her black, blinking eyes. She is Rhiaww Boonclaw. Tucked away with his scrolls (but equally important) is Ath-the-Second, the aptly-named second mate and navigator. He's of the Myrrish and Phurai Dae-hybrid stock common to the Isobar region. Well-built with a constant expression of worry.

The crew takes a late meal in the crew berths to which you're invited. The hammocks unsling and tuck back converting the common space into the mess. They're a pleasant, common folk. They're proud of their work and their ship and, as they freely state, would die for their captain, a hero of the Merkabah Siege. A handful are veterans of that war and are happy to share a harrowing tale or two.

Edinaz loves war stories! He settles in with the crew, trying to blend in, listening to the veterans, prompting them to tell their stories unashamedly.

Aryia is sure to touch base with the other parts of the ship and those who Aryia would have too keep an eye out for. Navigator, doctor, engineers and the lot. Things she didn't need to know how to run, but needed to know who to turn to if things went sideways. She helps out where she can, mostly moving things around and if need be, or staying out of the way.

She already felt like she was walking on a tight rope with how the Guild barely managed to carve out a good deed from all that demon stuff. Especially since she was named.

She really, really needs to read that Tribune article.

Regardless, the mute mul'neissa woman was with the crew, hanging in a hammock upside down, swaying back and forth, torch-bright eyes glancing from person to person as they shared their stories. And she was more than happy to help the Khzad man with his signing if it cropped up. Though, she was content to listen for the time being, rocking herself on with a foot kicking off the wall to keep her tempo.

Seyardu settled in for the journey easily enough. They had little trouble sleeping or staying on the boat, it was not their first airship ride, either. But with little to do, and staying out of the way of the nobles, if they were even around to stay out of the way of. At least when the place became a mess in the cooking sense, she was able to help with that. She had lots of experience cooking for large groups of people at this point.

And one of the storied crew is an old comrade of the Red Knight. A raucous barking greets her when she arrives among the crew berths to take part in the meal. A tall, brown-bearded man steps in front of her with what sounds like a challenge. Deep and stentorian, his words echo off the planks, "Are there any Mad Dogs here?"

"Aooooooooooo!" The little lucht suddenly howls, the sound distorted by her grinning mask, followed by laughing sounds that resemble words and barking, "Only Mad Dogs and Revolutionaries go out in the noon-day sun, so I must be the Mad Dog!" <gnoll>

He lifts her up, plate-mail and all, so her feet are dangling at his waist height. "Paenitia!", "Bertrand!", "You have not grown up!", "You have not either, I tell you the feet will not reach the ground!"

And they catch up. He's given up on the revolutionary life, found a good job, and doesn't regret the decision. He trusts his captain and enjoys the work. His family back home can now be taken good care of.

Inquiries after hers don't get far, as she dismisses any questions with a laugh, "You know what will happen! I am still the knight."

The food is good, it's worth noting. A hearty stew, fresh (if simple) bread, and some fruit preserves as a treat for their good working getting packed and out of the docks on time. The trio of assistant engineers seem to be the only ones who really like Taalkee but none speak outright ill of the gobber. Ath has fewer defenders but when an oruch-blooded woman with only the faintest of green tints to her skin suggests he might be 'moon-cursed' she's cuffed quickly forcefully on the back of her head by a neighboring fellow.

These people seem genuinely proud and happy with their work.

The favorite story of two veterans is how the captain earned his recognition, specifically. The story goes that his ship had taken a full salvo from the floating siege-city and was nearly knocked from the sky. Listing, engines failing, and with only a skeleton crew of survivors he managed to steer the flaming wreck into one of the enemy's main cannons and destroy it. Even more miraculous is that he and many of his crew managed to escape and survive.

The two devolve into good-natured bickering when they can't decide if the captain's skin coloration being uneven was always the case or fallout from exposure to the Kulthian technologies of the flying castle. The matter is abandoned before it's settled. It's time to bunk-down for some of the crew while a few have to return to duties on the deck.

GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (10)+24: 34
GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (6)+5: 11
GAME: Edinaz rolls perception: (19)+12: 31
GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (9)+6: 15

Edinaz looks up and around, frowning a little. He leans back, and slides away from the table to head for the stewpot. "Y'know," he says, "they put the weirdest stuff in here."

Aryia hasn't moved from her hammock, her idly swaying as she simply people watches. Curious about Paenitia's past, but the conversation leaves little on her mind because she couldn't understand any of it. Though, her torch bright gaze settles on something moving about the room. A brow raises, and she watches. Hmmm....

She was too slow to act on it, her going to beckon, but instead watches Edinaz handle it.

Paenitia and Bertrand catch each other up on the lives they've had since leaving Isobar, with the airshipman describing the ports of call and various sights to be found. In tradespeach, so they're comprehensible. In theory. The little lucht's stories are more varied and entertaining, cover her travel to Veyshan, but also the various adventures she's had around Alexandria which have involved fey, demons, undead, corrupt nobles, bandits and worthy souls in need of defense.

She shares her latest quests, "I have one, to find the most miserable man in Alexandria, and the new one, to find the innocent sword-master so the watery woman can throw the sword at him, and he will be savior of the world."

She also had to do community service for a crime, and was banned from the Temples like everyone else. Good times.

She's willing to talk late into the night, but a ship in motion has no slack, and doing so might endanger the performance. "We should set the watch, and what are the weird things you mean?"

Seyardu stops looking at her meal, and squints at the bowl. "Is something the matter, you think?" She asks, pushing it away. Last time this happened, she spent a week back in time. She did not wish to repeat this.

"Oh we are safe, we have the different grumpy orc then." Paenitia quips.

There's the sound of muffled impish laughter and a small, gnomish form darts out from behind Seyardu. The nobleborn boy is hopping impossible high in boots that are sized for an adult gnome as his enchanted, dark-blue cape falls back to reveal his shock-white streaked hair. The light seems to bend around him as he ducks around the hall. "Sorry. Got sent to bed without dinner!" And then he's gone around the corner, wolfish smile and all.

As if filling the void left by the disappearing boy, a sweet and sad soprano echoes through the boards of the ship. The officers are hosting their noble guests on the voyage's first night and the girl plucked from her budding career as a local virtuoso is asked to share her talent with their hosts. The words of the gnomish aria spill through the air, full of youthful vibrancy and a passion she's still learning to understand. She's talented but raw, just learning to tap into the Hymn.

The melody winds, a note held at the end of the chorus, and then a coda of the verse in the common tongue follows:

"Nothing you do can stop me, I love today
"Nothing you say can keep me, I'm on my way
"What will you scream when there's nothing left to say?
"And who will you rule when no one is left to play?"

Edinaz grins at the boy, then turns away to Seyardu. "Sneaky kid -- we'll have to watch him if the going gets tough." He heads back to sit down with his refill.

"Ah, the sound of young love, and the maiden who have not had her heart break yet." Paenitia says, her mask grinning for her. "It is better than the sound of young love-making, which I have also hear in the tiny camps."

She gets a drink of water, "Bertrand, I need the armour squire. You can help? This one have the new straps to show you."

They head off, there is much squeaking and clanking from the little lucht's sleeping area, but it's only removing her armour.

Up in the bow, Ramirez peers around. This isn't his beautiful life!

How did he get there!?

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