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.