The Winds of Oblivion

[AlphaLuke]

Throki's smile returns, "I'm done! You've been plenty of help, lad. I'll be sure to call upon you when we're skyward should I have the need for anyone fool enough to jump off the side of the ship."

The engineer then pulls a rag out of his pocket and begins to polish his eyepiece while walking toward the crew quarters.

[AlphaLuke]

Almost as soon as Throki disappears from sight, three clear bell tones ring from the mainmast. Zeph hears a dwarven curse from the hold and a pained squawk from the crow's nest, Archelos' apparent chosen perch.

Alessia stands by the bell amidship and shouts, "All hands, to the main deck. All hands, main deck."

Crewmen and women begin to gather, looking toward the stern of the ship and the door to the Captain's quarters within the poop. Kalinda stands outside the door to the Captain's quarters at attention. Storms and Scar-Eye find their way up to the deck with everyone else. The crew is surprisingly quiet for such a large group. Everyone seems intimidated by the imminent arrival of the Captain.

Once everyone crowds onto the main deck, Kalinda knocks on the Captain's door with three sharp raps.

A few moments later, the door opens to reveal a nearly pitch-dark room and a pair of glowing orange eyes.

The man that steps out of the doorway is, to all appearances, human. His skin is scarred, weather-worn, and sun-beaten. He bears a grey beard the color of wood ash and a curling mustache that frames his cracked lips. Those lips hold the suggestion of a smirk and are wrapped lovingly around a lit pipe. His clothes and hat are worn and weathered, but clean. His luminous orange eyes slowly scan his assembled crew. He locks those eyes with every man and woman aboard. Storms and Zeph both feel the powerful desire and complete inability to look away when the Captain's eyes fall upon them. After what feels like an age, the Captain speaks. He speaks slowly and deliberately, pausing between each sentence to allow his booming voice to echo in the air.

"I know some of you. Some of you are family. Brothers and Sisters. We have fought and flown and bled together. Yet there are some among you that I have yet to meet. To you, I say welcome. I am Domino Francisco de Espiritu Morales, Captain of the Apparition in Time. You may call me Captain or Sir. Aboard my ship you will follow my orders and the orders of my officers. If you do so quickly and well, you will be richly rewarded. If you fail to do so, you will be punished; by the gods or mine own hand. You all know which wind we're sailing. We head to Sarkoris, what most of you know as "the Worldwound". We sail into rough skies. When we get there we will complete our mission. Some of you will stay there, for Pharasma to judge and the crows to feast. Those who return with us will be the better for it. While we're sailing, if you have a question, ask. I'd rather a crew of inquisitive and competent sailors than silent idiots. First Officer Waycrest is my right hand. She'll give you your heading if your spun about. Her Boatswain, Madame Alessia Silvana'sha'atai will assign you all your duty rotations. I wish you all Abadar's fortune, Cayden's luck, Gorum's strength, and Irori's wisdom in the weeks to come. May Gozreh be merciful and give us smooth winds." With that, the Captain turns to Kalinda and nods.

She immediately turns to the crew and begins barking orders. "Alright you lot, let's get ready to cast off. Archelos, eyes on the sky. Deckhands, begin stowing the mooring lines. New crew, report to Alessia for your duties. Dismissed!"

With a sudden flurry of motion, people begin to move.

[Pent]

Zephyr finds Alessia through the crowd of crew all rushing to their duties. He navigates through the crowd.

As he negotiates through the people he decides that the Captain appears human but is not purely human. Two reasons: (1) Throki had been serving under the Captain for 80 years. (2) Those orange eyes. Maybe he was a fire-elemental-human? Could be almost any outsider through, from Aasimar to Tiefling. That part wasn't really important. Actually none of it was important, now that he thought about it. He was the Captain, whatever his heritage, he was the source of orders.

He stands at attention in front of Boatswain Alessia. "Miss," he says.

[AlphaLuke]

Alessia looks Zeph up and down, unimpressed. "Mr . . .?"

"Leornian!" Zeph says quickly. "Zephyr Leornian."

"Leornian . . ." Alessia looks down at a clipboard while speaking. "You will address all officers as "Sir" despite their apparent gender. It cuts down on the confusion when dealing with non-human entities and when shouting orders and answering in the affirmative. 'Yessir' rolls off the tongue and all that. Let's see . . . you aaaaaarrre . . ." She flips the paper, "Navigation! You must be booksmart. You'll be up on the poop deck then, next to the helm. You'll read the charts up there and help the pilot with his bearings."

[Pent]

"Thank you sir." His foot twitches. He almost left, but he wasn't dismissed yet. He's trying REALLY hard to not screw anything up. Being on this ship means everything to him. He's not letting his usual habits run his one chance.

[AlphaLuke]

Alessia nods, "Dismissed."

[Pent]

Zephyr nods "sir" and moves towards the poop deck to take his new station.

[DeathbyFlossing]

Spoiler

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question: since we appear to be casting off, can we just hand wave that Storms picked up meat for Scar-Eye before he came aboard?

Storms walks up to Allessia and asks, ”Orders, sir?”

[AlphaLuke]

Spoiler

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Of course. Let's assume that Storms was able to get two weeks worth of jerked meat for Scar-Eye.

Alessia looks at Storms and Scar-Eye. "Name first, Mr. Expressive."

"I have no name. You may call me Storms-as-he-Walks. This is Scar-Eye."

Alessia bends down to skritch Scar-Eye behind his ear. The lion proudly allows this. He's definitely not purring. That must be the ship's resonance . . .

"Oh I know this one," Alessia coos, "But, Mr. Storms-as-he-Walks. Let's see what to do with you . . ." she consults her clipboard. "You're to report to the Quartermaster. Seems he needs help in the hold. Scar-Eye can stay here with me if he likes." Scar-Eye looks to Storms for confirmation, but seems happy to stay in the sun. After getting a decision from Storms, Alessia dismisses the crewman to his duties below deck.

[AlphaLuke]

Zeph makes his way up to the poop deck and the navigators station next to the helm. His station is covered in maps, charts, weather forecasts, and brass instrumentation. Standing at the impressive, polished hardwood helm is none other than the drunk owl-man, Archelos. He looks significantly less drunk now than when Zeph first encountered him, but has replaced his innebration with a solid dose of hungover.

Kalinda calls up to him from the main deck. "Mr. Archelos! Once the mooring lines are cut, take us out of dock. Steady as she goes. Mr. Leornian, if you would please plot Mr. Archelos a course for Sarkoris. You'll find all the charts and instruments you should need at your station."

Archelos calls down a surprisingly steady "Aye, Sir!" and takes the helm. Then, more quietly to Zeph, "Just give me a heading, kid. We'll need to course correct for weather once we leave Absalom anyway."

Spoiler

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Zeph, you may make a Kn. Geography and Prof. Sailor checks to plot a course north toward the Worldwound. You're also welcome to interact with your crewmate.

Storms finds his way below deck toward the hold. It's dark and stuffy, but an illuminated oil lamp sends shadows dancing across the hull. There, in the darkness, the massive Quatermaster is busy lifting boxes the size of small horses, stacking and restacking them in very precise piles. "I already told yee, I don't have any blasted time for your . . ." he turns to see Storms. "Ah, Mr. Walks is it? 'Bout time they sent someone down here to help me. Would you be a gem and grab that barrel of pickles behind you? Blasted new deckhands couldn't pack a hold if it was already full. We're looking for a barrel of apples and a bag labeled 'flour'. I always make my apple spice dumplings at the start of a new voyage and twoud be terrible bad luck to go without. Grandma's recipe, you know! All the way from old Varisia. Tough old broad. Could pull nails out of boards with her teeth. . ."

Spoiler

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Storms, you are welcome to make a Strength check and a Perception check to help organize and search the hold. You're also welcome to interact with your crewmate.

[Pent]

Zephyr scours the maps. The first map he sees is of the larger region. Sarkoris is North of Absalom. Very, very, north. But what we need to do first is get out of dock and follow the designated lanes out of the dock. Zephyr had never seen a map for skyships before, he has to imagine the travel lanes are marked with elevation markers of some kind. He hurries to read and understand the map to give Archelos a heading. He recites it once he finds it.

Spoiler

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kn geo (1d20+8)[21]
prof sailor (1d20+9)[18]

He dictates the heading aloud. In a clear voice that Zephyr had heard other navigators give helmsman to make clear they could be heard against the wind and waves.

He reviews the maps for the next northerly region for any obstacles they have to avoid. Are there no-fly zones maybe?

Once Archelos seems between moments of ship steering Zeph strikes up a conversation.

"Mr. Archelos, I'm Zephyr Leornian, pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Do you need me to fetch us some coffee from the galley, sir?"

[AlphaLuke]

Soon, the Apparition in Time lifts free of the docking tower and begins a very slow float north, over the city.

Kalinda stands nearby, the Captain at her side. "Steady, Mr. Archelos. One quarter power. Runes only. We don't want to make wake in the city."

"Aye, Sir. One quarter. Runic lift only."

Archelos begins a slow climb. They clear the tallest buildings and floating private islands and Zeph sees his favorite view of his home city. Perhaps his last now that he thinks about it.

Zeph calls out the heading, "Heading three-three-eight-point-two."

Archelos responds, "Three-three-eight-point-two, Aye."

Kalinda looks to the Captain. The man seems to ponder the heading for a moment before nodding his assent. Zeph has chosen a suitable tradewind, it would seem. Kalinda takes the nod as confirmation.

"Open her up, Mr. Archelos. Lateral fins."

"Aye, Sir. Lateral fins."

The pilot pulls a lever to the side of the helm while steering towards Zeph's heading. Two massive lateral sails like the wings of a great bird extend from the port and starboard side of the ship. These stabilize their climb and they begins to make real forward progress. Then, with a call from Alessia in the rigging, crewmen begin to unfurl the mainsail. The Apparition in Time begins to pick up speed. Wind whips Zeph's hair and he feels the freedom of flight. Interestingly, none of his maps or charts are as blown by the wind as they should be. He suspects enchantment. The ship rockets forward faster than any ship Zeph has ever seen. Faster than he can fly on his own. It's amazing.

Zeph looks back to his maps. There don't seem to be any "no fly" zones. But, it would be wise to avoid certain countries if possible. Andoran should be a safe first port. Almas, the Capital, should have a skydock and it's a good first point for a plotted course. From there, Zeph's not sure about how they might manage getting over the Five Kings Mountains, but doesn't feel like flying over Isger or Galt are safe choices either. Perhaps later he'll plot three course and give the options to the Captain! No use worrying about it now, they're still days away from nice, safe Andoran.

Kalinda and the Captain move off the poop deck. The Captain returns to his gallery in the sterncastle, while Kalinda strolls the ship, listening to her Boatswain call orders.

Once Archelos seems between moments of ship steering Zeph strikes up a conversation.

"Mr. Archelos, I'm Zephyr Leornian, pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Do you need me to fetch us some coffee from the galley, sir?"

Archelos chuckles, "You can call me Archie. I'm not really an officer. Just a pilot. And I think you'd be hard pressed to find Mwangi coffee in our galley. Cookie hates the stuff. Says it's too bitter." He pulls a lever that seems to stabilize their course and turns to shake Zeph's hand. "But thank you for offering. I'm fine. Just a might bit hungover. Nothing I haven't tried before."

[Pent]

Zeph tries to find the most political way to say this.

"Most helmsman aren't fit to pilot a ship as complex as the Apparition after waking up in a bar. And most first officers wouldn't allow such behavior." he lets the statement hang in the air instead of following up with a question.

[AlphaLuke]

Archelos doesn't seem to take offense, instead simply chuckling and turning back to the helm.

"Most helmsmen don't have as much to drink about as I do. Heh! Kalinda and I go back. She knows when I'm good to fly and when I need more time. And sometimes, yeah, she finds me at the bars. It happens. I'm a Syrinx, Zephyr. Flying's as easy to me as walking. I could fly Ap with my eyes closed. You don't go worrying yourself about me. I've got this."

And, to Zeph's eyes, he does. He flips complex levers and switches without looking, deftly navigating air pockets, clouds, and invisible turbulence. The man . . . bird . . . thing does seem to have an inborn talent for flying.

[Pent]

Zeph chuckles. "Archelos, I'm impressed. And glad. I had a feeling that the first appearance couldn't be completely accurate. You might be the best flyer I've ever met. I bet I could learn a lot about flying from you. Could I get some flying lessons from you some time?"

[AlphaLuke]

The pilot shakes his head with a smile. "Archie. Only person aboard who calls me Archelos is Kalinda. And unless you grow wings, not much I can do to help you. Takes a lot of training to learn how to fly a ship like Ap. And the Captain doesn't exactly let people do joyrides."

[Pent]

"No, not the ship. Fly fly. I don't have wings, but I get by."

[AlphaLuke]

Archie takes a long look at Zeph. "Magic? I mean, if you're a wizard that would explain the robes. It's just . . . most men don't fly enough to want lessons."

[Pent]

Zeph nods. "I am a wizard. But in addition, I happen to fly better than most men. So, lessons next time we're off duty?"

[AlphaLuke]

Archie looks skeptical, but nods in agreement.

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms nods at the quartermaster and starts moving crates and barrels.

Spoiler

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Strength check (1d20+3)[15], perception check (1d20+11)[22].

[AlphaLuke]

Storms begins to work even while Master Gent continues talking.

". . . whole family you know. My brothers are even bigger! Well, Reg and Lars are. Walt is half an inch . . ."

Storms finds the barrel of apples and rolls it over to Gent. The massive man keeps talking.

" . . . best recipe in the Inner Sea, I swear by the pillars. Ol' Gran perfected the spice mix . . ."

Storms helps the Quartermaster move a spectacularly large box full of extra sailcloth and notices a tattoo on the inside of the man's wrist as he does so. The massive cook bears dozens of tattoos, mostly the standard tattoos of a seasoned sailor: compass points, "mother", skull and crossbones, etc. However this tattoo sticks in Storms' mind for both it's placement and it's auspicious design. An eye in the center of a triangle, surrounded by a sunburst.

Shortly thereafter, Storms is able to find the flour and carries it to the galley, following Master Gent. Gregor barely seems to fit in his workspace, yet moves with practiced efficiency. He chops apples and sets his tiny oven ablaze with a quick strike of a match.

"So, Storms-as-he-Walks. I feel like you should be havin' a shorter name. Not to disrespect your culture, mind. Just for ease of conversation. You mind if I call you something a might easier to roll of the tongue? Like "Storm" or "Walker"? Somethin' like that." He peels and dices and apple with a shortsword-sized knife without even looking at his hands.

[DeathbyFlossing]

”Storms is what people usually go with”, Storms replies as he packs away the last of the supplies.

[AlphaLuke]

The Cook considers his stoic friend's response carefully, nodding in deep thought.

"Storms it is then! Pass that bowl, Storms. We're on our way and the crew has a powerful need for dumplings."

The two brutes then proceed to bake a batch of apple spice dumplings that are both delicate and bold.

. . .

In a few short hours, the Apparition in Time passes over the charred and haunted Cairnlands and approaches the towering Kortos Mounts. A call rings through the ship for all deckhands to keep a weather eye, as marauding harpies are known to attack aerial travelers passing through this mountain range. Zeph feels a chill run through the air as Archie climbs in altitude to avoid the need to weave through the lower mounts. The air grows thinner, and several men who were killing time on deck move into the lower decks to avoid the chill and breathe conjured air.

On the northern horizon, Arazlant Mox towers through the clouds. Over five miles high, the highest mountain on the island looms over the ship like a giant standing next to a gnat. A roar of something large and hungry echoes on the wind, but no creature shows itself to the lookout.

When Storms and Gent come up to the main deck carrying steaming trays of apple dumplings, it's a welcome sight. The thick apple jam and peppery spices filling the buttery dumplings both fill the stomachs of the crewman and warm their chilled bones. Even Alessia and First Officer Kalinda enjoy some.

After some chilly but uneventful hours in the Kortos Mounts, the land begins to flatten once more and a line of blue dominates the northern horizon: The Inner Sea.

It's well into the evening by this time and Archie is relieved by Kalinda at the helm. She course corrects for windage, checks Zeph's heading, and flies the Apparition like a seasoned salt, although not with the ease and familiarity of Archie. The Syrinx motions for Zeph to follow him below deck for another dumpling and a long-awaited drink at the end of his shift.

[Pent]

Zeph hungril grabs a serving of apple dumplings. He takes a bite and is not at all surprised to taste how delicious the meal is. Clearly the Captain and Kalinda have a discerning eye for talent, and hire the best possible in all positions. Zeph feels confident that Kalinda made no mistake hiring him, too.

"So Archie, how long have you been serving on the App?"

[DeathbyFlossing]

Feeling the need for some conversation, Storms walks up to Gent with a couple of dumplings (and a bit of steak for his cat) and asks, ”So, Master Gent, I notice you have an abundance of tattoos. Would you mind sharing some of the stories behind them?”

[AlphaLuke]

Archie chews happily on his own steaming dumpling. "Thirteen years this spring. Cap was running a job in northern Arcadia and I had the bright idea to take a floatskiff and rob him. Flew circles around him while my boys nicked his cargo. We actually managed to get away, but he tracked me down a few days later. I had drank my take and was face down in a bar when I felt Kalinda's blade in my feathers. They gave me a choice: die a thief's death, or work for them as a pilot. See, Kalinda was flying Ap at the time and it seems she was more than a little cross at how easily I had outmaneuvered her. The Captain was likewise frustratingly impressed. I've been flying the Apparition in Time ever since."

. . .

Master Gent seems elated to talk. He eagerly begins pointing out tattoos and launching into detailed stories about each. He even pulls down his britches at one point to reveal a tattoo in a sensitive spot. "- this one in Ol' Azlant, on one of the Mordant Spires, you know. Them elves wear masks a bit like yours now I think - one the last ship I served on, name was the Dread. Nasty bit o' work - for me loverly muver *sniff*; she'd be so proud if she could see me now - took a scar fighting a Kraken, so I figured I best mark the occasion - "

Through each story, Storms notices the cook deftly keeping his triangle and eye wrist tattoo out of sight. He either neatly covers it with his apron, shirt, knife, or dumpling to almost imperceptibly keep it out of Storms' sightline. The man is far more adept at sleight of hand than Storms would have previously thought and he makes a mental note not to play cards against the ship's cook.

[DeathbyFlossing]

Noticing that the cook seems to be hiding something, Storms wonders how to approach the subject a bit before going for the direct approach.

”Fascinating stories, Mister Gent. What about that triangle one on your wrist? You seem somewhat embarrassed by it.”

[AlphaLuke]

The mess of the ship begins to fill with the sounds of laughter and camaraderie as afternoon turns to evening. Gregor's smile at Storms' question doesn't touch his eyes. "Oh! This little one?" He finally reveals the tattoo, "I picked it up - well, you'll never believe - a story for the ages, it is - you see, first you need to hear how I -"

"Captain on deck!" Alessia suddenly shouts. Crewmen and women stop whatever it is their doing and stand straight-backed in place. Cups clatter to the planks and music stops mid-note. Gent clams up and stands with the rest. The Captain strolls down the ladder and over to Master Gent and Storms. He says nothing, but nods appreciatively at their work in the galley. He doesn't partake in a dumpling. Instead, he once more glances at every man and woman in the mess with those unnerving eyes.

Then, very slowly, he draws a piece of folder parchment from his inner jacket pocket. "At ease," he says to his crew, "Tonight's poem is called 'Moonlight over Alistair' . . ."

[Pent]

Zeph is a little shocked. he has no doubt its showing on his face. He'd never had a ship captain read poetry. They were always salty sea dogs. Zeph looks around and doesn't see anyone else any signs of perplexion. He settles in, and is eager to hear the poem.