1115 Old Jorvan

“They’re retreating!” Fairfield calls out as the rest of the crew is loading the cannon with lead shot, and medicus is tending the handful of wounded from the top deck.

1000 Local Time, Freedom Isle

The smoke from morning cookfires being dowsed leaves tendrils curling high into the sky. The Olic has found a line between them, hoping to go unnoticed. By Gardner’s recollection, the sheer cliff-face they are facing now is almost exactly opposite the main glowborn settlement. Vines cover the surface, hanging out into the Void; a sign the Wild continues to take hold. Vuyen swears an uncharacteristic oath, having never seen elven plants before, nor their aggressive nature.

Mid-Battle, Olic Haversham

apologies for the delay. game on!

Xisco's knife work is careful and fast, clearing a few of the less critical lines so that the wing can fall freely. As it does, it tumbles and flops, except for the bit still attached to the goblins, which falls like a stone. A bit of the sail flutters overboard, but the majority crashes to the upper hull of the ship with a crash. Fairfield starts climbing down after it.

The occupants of the ship can hardly hear the thud from the rigging though, over the echoing blast from the rear cannon. Blendin attempts to fire the forward cannon but it begins to smoke and steam, and the late bang from it is not reassuring, although the thick bronze bands hold in the explosive force.

353rd Day, Midday. Olic Haversham

The boys from the Randy Trollop stand a watchful eye around the ship day and night. They are a bit overzealous with their cudgels, but have erected a temporary shelter out of sailcloth to block out most of the Glow, so maybe that’s just their nature. The leader of the detail is Yorgi, almost seven feet tall and with long white-blonde hair, yet the voice of a 12-year-old girl. He doesn’t say much.

349th Day, Evening, Broken Mast

The crew has gathered together in a private dining area, away from the activity of the main room. Cecelia has drawn the thick woolen curtains so the sound from outside is suppressed; the opposite is also likely true.

The low table, built in the willowy elven fashion, is lit with a glowing green moss, throwing odd shadows as the conspirators discuss their findings, their leads, and their next actions. Cecelia has left the room, but is nearby in case the crew feels the need to ask her questions, or have an errand sent.

349th Day, Shadowhaven. Morning.

Xisco bangs his gloved fist on the front of the conspicuously large and reflectively polished wooden door of Magnus’ Manor, as those in his employ are wont to call the place. The building is of a seemingly random collection of stones of varying color and size; Magnus likes to jest that its like his fleet. In fact, the stones are quite carefully selected so that the building stands free without mortar, held in place by the hundreds of interconnecting pressures exerted by the stones. Xisco resists the urge to pull a stone out, just to see what would happen long enough for the door to open. “Oy, Dragan, its too damn early to be poundin’ about out here!” Andreas, Magnus’ batman and servitor, is dressed in his usual uniform, and holding a cup of steaming tea.

348th Day, Piemaker’s Guildhall, Shadowhaven. Early Evening

The Olic Haversham and her crew landed safely back at Shadowhaven not a day too soon, docking at the end of a growing pier at the ‘grand’ shipyards. Her charges, the six vessels in various states of repair, all limp in with her, and the tunnels of stone make for a welcome sight. Most of the crew has recovered from their injuries, but the long exposure effects of this voyage have taken their toll, and relaxation is in order.

The overall progress on the new shipyard is stunning; it appears that lumber from Timber has been arriving is sufficient quantities to accelerate the rebuilding project, and teams of Roofers and dockworkers are busily building day and night. One of Magnus’ other captains, Hertzmann, a former mate and survivor of the Grenadier, spies your arrival and greets you before running off into the city. By the time you’re tied off, Andreas, Greenbottom’s batman, has arrived to greet you in his master’s stead. It seems your payment arrived a week or so ago, and Magnus wasn’t expecting your return so soon. However, Andreas is interested to view the manifest so that he can take it to be reviewed by Greenbottom. Taz, Roland, Medicus and Pierre agree to join him back to Magnus’ warehouses in the Nexus to look into provisioning the ship and determining what is best to do with the hatchlings in your hold.

The Void, 311th Day. Olic Haversham, Changing of the Watch.

The new crew is hard at work, the old back into the swing, and there is a general ease to the travelling thus far. The new sails provide a far smoother ride even in the blustery winds outside of Bridgeways, which disappeared into the Glow behind you not 3 days ago. The windstream you’ve selected for this leg of the journey appears well travelled; you’ve seen a half dozen vessels today. The crowd isn’t as concerning as most chance encounters, because there are enough to keep all but the most brazen pirates at bay. Most appear to be merchantmen, but you were passed by the Gruesome Twosome, Daring Penelope’s famed catamaran frigate, about six hours ago.

Roland has been scouting the food using his skysail and its bringing in a good catch. Pierre claims all is well with the little eggs, 2 of which hatched yesterday. He named them Dan and Lola. He doesn’t seem concerned at this development, saying you’ll have plenty of time to get to Shadowhaven before they become too large, and is feeding them bits of fungus. Medicus has been surprisingly sober, trying to set a good example for the new crew. Taz is always trimming and retrimming the sails, trying to squeeze just a bit more out of them.

Roland is returning from one of his many trips. He settles his skysail on the foredeck, and descends the ladder to join the crew. “Oy, we got a live one, we do!” He trots over excitedly. “Fog sharks, 2 of them, about half an hour ahead of us, maybe less. They’re following the ‘stream just like us it seems. Bigg’uns, prolly 30, 35 footers.”

His enthusiasm is met by looks of concerned from Taz and horror from Medicus and Pierre.

The Olic Haversham, Windsilk Sloop. Bridgeways, Lady’s District. Dawn, 308th Day.

The crew made it back relatively early after having spent the night in various locales. Blendin was the only shareholder who spent the night aboard the vessel, the others having taken in the various pleasures available at the new Inn: the mundane (fresh sheets and soft beds), the expensive (‘room service’ and ‘bedwarmers’), and the unique (independent and flexible elven women).

307th Day, 1030 hours, The Pale Wind Inn, Bridgeways

Henry Howard saunters over to Tooly and the captain. His suit is a striped affair, close cropped and unusual for Bridgeways, particularly now that the wind is up.

“Gentlemen, welcome to the Pale Wind! Name’s Hank Howard, this here is my establishment. Drink?” He claps his hands, which surprisingly are heard over the general hubbub by a dainty young lady wearing only a smile while carrying a tray of beverages in stoneware. The real surprise is not the unclothed woman, but the drinks themselves: a small sliver of ice is present in each cup - incredible opulence anywhere, and the first time you’ve seen it this far down in the Skies. He hands you each a drink, dismisses the young lady with a swat on the behind, and continues “Now, as observers, I’ll ask that you keep sportsmanship in mind and ‘advice’ to your favorites in the game to yourself. I won’t have my tournament sullied with cheating.”

Clovis and Gardner stand on a small balcony overlooking the casino floor. In total, there are a dozen or so tables, each seating 8 men playing games of cards. Xisco, or Dragan as he is calling himself the last few days, assured you the game would go well into the night (unless he were to loose, which seemed unfathomable to him), but seeing as the drinks are free, the lasses comely, the wildling still on his errand and the Olic undergoing repairs for new sails, you decided to join him at the opening of the Inn.

306th Day, Final day of the Festival of Eddies, 1700 hours. Gundeck, Olic Haversham.

The Festival of Eddies is coming to a close, and the crew is running out of time to complete their task. The past week has been a whirlwind of activity. The entire crew attended the largest festival that started this morning with a parade between a few of the major upper islands. With free food for all attendants, it was an easy sell. They have seen the Windtalker a few times, but she never acknowledges you in public, although her words often refer to foolhardy acts of distrust in her god, which you link back in your minds to the work of the dwarfs on the middle islands. The celebration will continue until the last bell, at which point, if history serves, the winds will return and life on Bridgeways will become as it usually is.

301st Day, Olic Haversham, Breaking Fast

You all arrive back at the Olic Haversham at about the same time. Taz introduces you to your new crewmember, Roland Greathammer. He is a stocky dwarf, carrying a small pack made of leather of some unknown creature(s) of the void. His clothes are a mismatched hide shorts and vest, thick laced boots, a broad-brimmed hat with one side tacked up, and a white skyler feather cloak. This last item makes Gardner in particular alittle uncomfortable, as white skylers are thought to be ill omens when spotted because they tend to travel with fogsharks and other dangers of the Void; killing a white skyler is taboo among most folk of the skies – its thought to leave a years long streak of terrible luck on the man who draws the blood. He sees your concern, and assures you that the cloak was made of feathers plucked from the beasts while they was alive, and is a sign of his hunting prowess and his familiarity with the habits of creatures of the Void.

He has a few spears in a bundle, and a small dolly with cloth and spars, presumably a homemade skysail.

1st Day of Eddies, Workshop, Bridgeways (Day 300, TC Calendar)

“Welcome, Clovis, Son of Bruce, Son of Lorne. I apologize for my informality; this time away from the Citadel has left me coarse. I am Marchus Bronzeye, Son of Urt, Son of Bernie, Chief Engineer of Bridgeways. My workshop welcomes new men of skill such as yourself and your dear friends.” His demeanor is exceptionally welcoming, particularly given his rank. “I am most impressed with the wares you have to offer; I fear that I may offend by offering my meager belongings to you. Please, forgive me again if I do. Oh, and might I add, a most dashing eyepatch, sir. If I ever happen to be maimed in such a way, I would hope that I would have the good fashion sense to acquire such an item.

Day 299, Eddies Eve. Bridgeways, Loamport, Artificer’s District. 1045.

The docking clamp is an impressive affair, with a reticulated wooden and rope arm actuated by a small engine of copper and brass. It brings the ship in snuggly to the dock, with only handspan between your vessel and the ironclad in front and the frigate behind. The engineer operating the device shows no concern over the close fit.

Bridgeways is bustling with activity. On the low horizon you can see at least 3 council ships, checking randomly among the flowing stream of pilgrims and trade ships in and out the island chain. Above the islands of the Lady’s District are alive with tiny tenders and ships, flitting back and forth between the islands. You can hear the chimes ringing in the distance, echoing off the various islands inbetween.

Here in the Artificer’s District, the rules of the Council are still observed, but generally are more lax. Its central location makes traveling convenient, and its closeness to the best bazaars for relics and salvage provide additional benefit to mooring here. Additionally, with the coming festivities, its one of the cheaper ports, further removed from the Lady’s temples. Even so, the immediate area seems secure. You see a number of squat dwarven sentries, armored and bearing poleaxes or long muskets. They look at ease, but competent in their business.

Welcome to Bridgeways

I’ve decided to give you a tourist’s guide for your next destination: Bridgeways. This information is for your perusal on an as needed basis, and constitutes something like common knowledge imparted to you by a combination of your Captain and the first mate Taz, both natives of the island chain who are excited to be on their way home. Also, lots of credit to JWW who helped influence the development of this locale – benny for him. My hope is this will give you something to refer to when you have questions about local issues, as well as give you the proper feel for this location. Be sure to also review details in the book – those are still relevant – if you have questions about things on bridgeways. Obviously, this isn’t everything, and if you want me to elaborate on something, let me know.

The Void. Olic Haversham, Combat.

The sudden heel of the ship causes Fang to whine and Olla sits down hard before regaining her feet, but the bow comes around in a smooth arc before falling into line to cross just behind the hornet. As they close, the Captain pushes a steady roll back to starboard while maintaining his line so that the guns can still be brought to bear. Taz cackles in tactically induced glee.

297th Day, Midday. The Void

The ship left without incident, pulled out of harbor by Hanover and then sent on its way.

The trip is going smoothly enough. Olla plays her lute in the evening, although you’ve convinced her to sing in common as of last night instead of in her own tongue. It seems to have a calming effect on you all, and work has gone smoothly. The crew seems happy enough after Taz demanded their pay of 500 cogs from the ships stores prior to departing. Since it was there, the captain agreed rather than take the time to argue.

The course to Bridgeways seems particularly direct and a steady tailwind has been keeping you lofted along. However, 1 set of sails appeared off and on along the horizon last evening ahead of your ship, and then two more were spotted behind about 3 hours ago. The hull of the leading ship is obvious even at this distance: elven, most likely one of those that left around the same time you did. At a guess, you’re only 2 days from the TC pickets around Bridgeways, but with the 3 vessels around you as they are now, it’s unlikely you’ll avoid them that whole time.

292nd Day, 0930, Aboard the Olic in Port at Timber

The next morning, Taz arrives back to the Olic with a breakfast of fresh roasted behemoth fin and a fungus paste that tastes something like juniper berries – not the most pleasant combination but sufficiently filling. The crew has gathered in the hold amongst the freshly resined cannon to discuss their options. Xisco follows him in, still bleary from his usual evening of gambling and debauchery. It appears his winnings were few, but he brings news of the arrival of 2 new elven ships, sloops bearing at least half a dozen oakthorn. They arrived in the night, carrying a cargo grain and rope. The leafwarden made quite a show of unloading the material on the dock just an hour or two ago while giving a speech praising the Wild and Its bounty. He also laid a subtle threat, by ‘hoping’ these would not be the final vessels bearing such goods. Three trawlers left port within an hour of their arrival, and half the other ships in port are a flurry of activity in preparation to depart.

291st Day, Canopy, 2100 local time

The shadows in the trees hunker down, and Blendin is suddenly aware they are surrounded. It’s hard to tell how many. A few tense moments pass until a single wildling, with long floppy ears and a nervous tic, steps into view. He has a small wooden ax in one hand, held low but ready. His eyes focus on Blendin, but he shoots occasional wary glances at Xisco. “These woods are not safe these days, wildling and your human friend makes a lot of noise. Why have you come? Do you wish to bring the Shepherds to us?!”

Medicus grunts with pleasure at his findings, but says they are pretty basic goods – bandages, flameroot, greentine, paintberry, and names a bunch of other herbs you don’t pay much attention too. He says that even at Timber prices, these aren’t worth much and suggests you sell one of the bags of salt, seeing as you have, in his words, “Enough to desiccate my aunt Clarice’s corpse.” He adds, in an attempt to be helpful, “She was a large woman.” Renault seems happy with this arrangement.

289th Day, Off Timber. 0210 ship's time.

Wung flinches away from the dyed needle, “Surgeon steady hands, but gentle like my first woman’s father.”

“Quiet you green idiot. You begged me for this memento. If you hadn’t been bleeding all over my breechclout, for which I will bill you in brandy when we get to Timber, you’d have had chance to properly collect one. Sincerest apologies that with saving your worthless hide it slipped from thought to acquire the skull of he who almost done you in. Would that he had finished the job proper…” The surgeon taps a small hammer against the dyed needle, which leaves a blue-black puddle where it punctures the green flesh, “we would all sleep more soundly, I’m sure.” The orc seems pleased with their ongoing back and forth and guffaws as the clawed skeletal hand on his shoulder continues to take shape.

1510 Last Day of Festival

Fang is limping a tad as they make their way back to the entrance. Gardner has the sneaking suspicion that he’s milking the injury to avoid further ‘exploration.’ As the pair arrives back in the opening chamber, they find it empty. A sinking feeling begins to knot in Drawlight’s stomach until Taz and Medicus arrive from the stair to the surface at a trot.

1505 Final Day of Festival, Ruin Interior

Their wounds less critical than they feared, the crew of the Ollie takes a moment to clear their heads.

Final Day of Festival, 1400 Ruin Interior

A few moments after Xisco dashes out, the rest of the party notes that the ivy has stopped its rhythmic pulse of light, and the door has gotten noticeably darker. However, the ivy stays lit with a now-constant ruddy orange.

Final Day of Festival, 10am, Ruin Interior

“You want me to what? Give you my only defense, is it? And you think I’m the crazy drunk? Have you gone daft? Seems the dank air has gone to your head. Ha!” Medicus flat refuses to hand over the crossbow, and in fact brandishes it with some small amount of menace. Apparently he had acquired for his own use following the skeleton incident less than an hour before. Wung looks much as you left him.

“Now then, as I figure it, we’re all dead , right, if I lock you in, so not much point in me guardin’ the door from up top here. But, I can try to hold the hallway for you lot. If they come up behind ya, well, you’ll hear this I reckon,” he shakes the crossbow. “Wung can stay up here. He’ll be fine, init. Or as fine as he is now anyway.”

You then find yourselves, a few moments later, gathered in the first branched hallway. Tooly is in the lead, with the captain, followed closely by the rest of the crew. Clovis notes another sconce. Taz, without being asked, takes a deep breath and moves forward to light it. You see another sconce, but this one appears a tad different - there is no glass in the open jaws.

The noises are louder here, predominated by a clang of metal on metal. It sounds as if it is just around the next bend.

Final day of Festival's Feast, Ruin Interior

Wung hefts his maul in one hand, and one of the two lanterns in the other. Taz adjusts his belt, checks his crossbow, and adjusts his sword before following the dwarf down the stairs.

"I'll wait up here then. You boys go on, I'll keep an eye on the winch." Medicus looks quite happy to stay put, but gestures Blendin and Xisco towards the hole.

At the bottom of the stairs, Tooly takes the lead. While his companions can only see so far in the lantern light (dashed line), he steps around the corner to see a longish corridor, ending in a T.

The passageway is floored with hand-scraped stones, smooth enough for easy travel but providing more traction than you might expect from marble or granite. The walls are of the same material, but much rougher cuts and appear loosely fit without mortar. There is a branch a few yards ahead leading off to the left. Both intersections have sconces made of stone in the shape of gruesome heads, with open mouths. a small bar of what looks to be glass is between their teeth.

3rd Day of Festival’s Feast, Mysterious Unnamed Island

It’s good to have Shadowhaven at your back. You see the full breadth of the damage to the Shipyards. They are, in effect, gone. There are some small piers and pilings remaining, but the majestic covered walkways are all but nonexistent. Even so, there are signs of new work, and as you overfly the area you see orange cloaks suggesting that the Roofer’s Guild has taken to the task.

The Olic is a fine vessel, swift and true, but without the material comforts found on the Swoose. Her covered decks are not terribly cramped with the crew of 7, but more than you are used to; with the constant Glow it isn’t long before the grumbles begin. The effects appear mild, and with the limited exposure afforded by the hull most days and enforced on those who begin to show signs of Madness, they remain so.

217th Day, 231st year, 1030. Nexus, Shadowhaven.

Tooly is the last to arrive, and he looks a tad disheveled. The table is set with a selection of breakfast foods, sweets and pastries, as well as thin wooden carafes containing elven wines. A young man, strikingly handsome in spite of the tiniest hint of a scar under one eye, sits by Magnus with his feet on the table. Both are dressed in fine clothes, one in a double-breasted leather overcoat, and the other in satiny bedclothes that hide the chafes of metal shackles well. “Gentleman, please, eat some of this food! It’ll spoil, and I know what you’ve all been fed with. Dreadful swill in that tower, but this! This tastes like freedom! A toast, then, to 11 of those 12 riggers, who are shorter today for their treachery against me! And for that 12th, may he find a deep hole to hide in before I get to him.”

216th Day, 0600 Local Time. Grand Arena, Shadowhaven.

You are roused from your bunks just after the sixth bell, and marched, without manacles, by a handful of guards to the Arena. Fifty yards behind you is another group, presumably the riggers, and in front of you in Magnus, stripped to the waist and shackled hand and foot walking between two hulking orcish soldiers. He looks pasty and rather pitiful, but when he looks over his shoulder at you he has that familiar glint in his eye.

215th Day, 231st Year. 1100 Local Time. Trade Council High Security Brig, Shadowhaven.

Jay reflects aloud, for not the first time, that last 2 weeks have been pleasant by prison standards. The food isn’t bad, you’ve got a window that looks out on the street below, the room is relatively large for the four of you, and you aren’t manacled to the wall. Quint, Brecklum, Taz, and Wung were all released within the first 3 days, since they had no recent history in Shadowhaven and held no share in the ship. They had their pay already, and although they seemed sheepish about it, chose to leave rather than remain in prison with their new employers. Taz indicates that he would be willing to ship with you again when you are released, and said he would speak to his friends in the Council on your behalf. The others left with mumbled apologies and wishes for luck. Quint promises Jay he’ll make it up to him one day.

160th Day, 231st year 1500 local time, Foreign Quarter

You’ve finished your preparations for sailing when Brislim returns to the vessels, his civic guards in tow. With him are three soldiers of the Trade Council. “Hail the ship! It appears you are making ready to depart. If that is true, these gentlemen would care to look over your cargo, and make sure everything is in order. It’ll save you time getting out of port today”

The Trade Council soldiers board the vessels, but it’s a rather cursory affair. They don’t even request destinations, just taking a quick look at the manifests and interviewing the crew briefly. They look ready to leave when the officer, an ensign, turns and asks, pointing at the ships log, “So, where is this wildling, Blendin?”

152nd day, 231st Year. Noon, Local Time, Dragonspine.

The journey was uneventful. Tooly spent much of his time repairing the Grandee, and while she is no ship-of-the-line, she has a single functional cannon on her port side, a working tiller, and a pair of small but usable sails.

This meant his tinkering time normally devoted to the Swoose was thankfully short.

You are in the middle of changing shifts when Moira calls down from the top of the envelope to inform you she has spotted land. Within an hour, you can see an island that can only be Dragon’s Spine laid out before you. It’s a long undulating ribbon of land, with two vast peaks in the center, the Wings of the Dragon. There is a small forest near what would likely be considered the head, and of course your destination, the Foreign Quarter, located near where one might expect the rectum were the island indeed a living dragon.

117th Day, 0630 Ship Time, Uncharted Island

Jay and Clovis grudgingly hand the wildling his coins; Asesh was a tad more rubbery than expected.

Gardner lands the Swoose atop the tower. As Jay and Clovis prepare to investigate the tower, Moira clears her throat and speaks up. “Gentlemen, the Guild and I cannot thank you enough for your rescue – I daresay the message I bear would have been lost with my life if it weren’t for your help. I will bury my crew, because whatever they may have become, they were good men while they lived.

117th Day, 500 Ship Time, Aboard the Swoose

Twenty seconds later, the Swoose is 60 feet in the air, slowly ascending. The crew has pulled aboard the nets, and cut Brand loose of his bonds. He and Ceran are smiling from ear to ear, and laughing about their good fortune. Gardner is at the helm with his blunderbuss reloaded, and both Clovis and Blendin have reloaded their weapons and are scanning the top of the ruin for signs of the priest; they see nothing. Moira is chatting with her shipmates, sitting atop the bags of flowers.

117th Day, 0430 Ship Time, Uncharted Island

With the Grandee adrift, and weapons at the ready, the Swoose makes its way towards the rock formation.

The forest breaks open abruptly, giving way to the dark grey stone of the tower. The rock tower is some 50 meters high, assuming the trees here are roughly 20m tall. Although it is obscured by the forest, the tower has a rough 20-meter square base that tapers and twists a quarter turn clockwise to end in a flat top, 15 meters on a side. In theory, the Swoose would have plenty of room to come to rest atop it; Gardner notes however the winds here near the edge of the island are rougher than those at the center. He is concerned that maneuvering may be more difficult, but sees few other landing sites.

117th Day, 0300 Ship Time, Uncharted Island

Battle for the Grandee

Tooly has finished his two “stun sacks”, and Moira and Blendin gather the flowers into large bundles of sailcloth, ready to be tossed and scattered overboard if needed.

The anchors are raised, and the Swoose moves toward the edge of the treeline at a good speed. Moira and Jay leap aboard the Grandee as Gardner stalls the ship, climbing abruptly. Tooly, not seeing available targets for his stun cannon, follows across on the rope ladder, which he ties loosely to the aft rail of the Grandee. Gardner has lowered a heavy tow cable, ready to be tied. Blendin stands ready near the cannon, with his rifle at ease on the rail.

As you look for danger, the hatch flies open, and two voider pirates climb on top of the ship. One has an axe, buckler and a coin shirt, while the other has cocked a javelin ready to throw. At the same time you see the portside gun port open, and a pirate leans out with a crossbow aimed at the “boarders.” You also see two pairs of glowing eyes below the ship on the ground; they are looking up, and you feel a chill down your back.

Timber, Noon, 104th Day.

The past few days flew by without incident. Jay fell back into his usual routine, hanging from the ship’s painted envelope while doing his morning exercises and chatting to his plants. He has also become a regular at the logger’s tables in the evening and seems to get along well with a few of them, but always returns to the ship afterwards. Blendin spent much of his freetime beyond the treeline. A few of the loggers pointed him towards nearby wildling encampments, but each time he arrives at one, the location is vacated, probably only moments before his arrival. Tooly has finished repairs on the drive rod and now is well underway repairing the gear locking mechanism its on schedule, but he has some plans to help the final alignment process go faster. Gardner and Renault have struck a deal to cover these repairs. He will take 1000 off your cash payment of 15000, in exchange for sealing the swoose and three altitude suits, all paid in advance. The swoose’s hull smells like honey and pine, but otherwise looks as it always did – the orcish runes are still visible beneath the coating.

Timber, 100th day, 231st year.

ooc: this is a long one, even by my standards. Sorry. There’s something to respond to for everyone at the bottom, so try to read at least your bit and then the everyone bit.

Tooly

Tooly exits the dugout hovel adjusting his breeches with one hand while he shields his eyes from the glow with the other. Here near the trees, the glow is diffused, but as he looks towards the pier and the logging camp ‘city’, his eyes burn.

The men of Timber had warmed to him; certainly not like they did Blendin, but he couldn’t blame them on that. Clovis was, after all, taking a valuable resource in the barmaid. Regardless of how Gertie looked, she snored like a logger, and so Tooly found it best to vacate her premises early each morning.

23:30 Local Time, Timber, Canopy. 97th Day, 231st Year

Clovis settles into his watch, trying to stay alert. ooc: give me a notice check, please.

Blendin, Jay and Gardner approach a large hollowed stump, with rough wooden steps leading down. Above the dugout entrance, a heavy wooden sign hangs with a crude but surprisingly accurate rendering of a fog shark in a nightcap. He is also holding a heavy pottery mug in his fin, so the artist clearly was willing to take some liberties.

--:-- Ship Time, The Void, near Shadowhaven. 54th Day, 231st year.

Martog and Freym pull up the plank as Fang returns to the captain’s side. He easily loosens the knots, and the rope slides free. The ship lurches up, and the rope under Tooly’s foot begins to pull away; he lets it do so.

The ship climbs of its own accord at a rapid pace. Everyone aboard feels their stomachs drop. The cargo appears to be distributed evenly enough, and she keeps her keel down. After you are even with the rooftops, the ship settles into an easy drift, away from the city. The shade of the envelope feels good, and there is a soft rustling sound within. Blendin thinks it sounds like singing; to the rest of you it just sounds like wind.

In the Void, the flames that engulf much of the shipyard are not as nearly as visible as the fingers of smoke. As you look down, the cargo pile explodes, and a ball of black smoke billows out. A number of the riggers, still stunned or injured, are caught in the blast. The men who burned Concordia have divert their attention to a nearby sloop.

The Swoose is not the only survivor. A few other ships are making sail for the horizon, but too many are still tied to the piers. You also see dark smoke exiting out the chimneys of the Shadowhaven near the Nexus. You hope that the destruction there isn’t anything near what you have seen today. You can see the Trade Council shipyards, and 3 Council ships. Sails are being unfurled, and they appear to be making ready to sail. You also see the massive sails of another Council ship, approaching from the horizon.

COMBAT 1

0530 Local Time, Shadowhaven. 54th day of the 231st year of the Trade Council.

Character Backgrounds

Everyone's gotten me what I need. Thanks folks!

I'm finishing up the first post of the game and should have something up there for you midday my-time. In the meantime (or after, for that matter) its probably useful for each of you to post a brief character background in terms of the other players. It can, of course, be what you sent me - but I imagine there are things in your character's histories you might like to keep under wraps. Assume that each of you have known and sailed with each other for at least a year, although some of you clearly have been aboard longer than others.

Kickoff in a few hours.