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[Keelstone] Way home? (01)
Wingmaster Math,
Your wing of flyers are coming to roost on the Longkeel after a long flight. Orset's singing some bawdy tune, she's in a chipper mood counter to the rest of the squad. Colizabel is downright grumpy, already told Orset to stow it three times, then finally hung back out of earshot, flying in the higher winds on Mister Brackenbury.
Your wing was sent to stop a raid on a Khandian flotilla that had "dropped anchor" just far enough from Olmar's borders to be able to proselytize safely, or so they thought. A group of bat-riders had begun harassing them and the Longkeel was close enough to respond. How was this last mission, Math?
Is this something your association does for profit, or are you allied with Khand somehow? Your wing has a wide mix of Nations represented, do politics get in the way of your work?
Thomer lands his monstrosity and comes over to you. "Milady Math, if ya want to report in to the cap, I'll take yer bird for ya." He gives you a tight grin.
Your wing of flyers are coming to roost on the Longkeel after a long flight. Orset's singing some bawdy tune, she's in a chipper mood counter to the rest of the squad. Colizabel is downright grumpy, already told Orset to stow it three times, then finally hung back out of earshot, flying in the higher winds on Mister Brackenbury.
Your wing was sent to stop a raid on a Khandian flotilla that had "dropped anchor" just far enough from Olmar's borders to be able to proselytize safely, or so they thought. A group of bat-riders had begun harassing them and the Longkeel was close enough to respond. How was this last mission, Math?
Is this something your association does for profit, or are you allied with Khand somehow? Your wing has a wide mix of Nations represented, do politics get in the way of your work?
Thomer lands his monstrosity and comes over to you. "Milady Math, if ya want to report in to the cap, I'll take yer bird for ya." He gives you a tight grin.
Comments
We try t'stay outta politics. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Point is, we're as likely to help a Khandian flotilla as we are an Olmarian vessel for a bit o' coin. But don't mistake us for mercenaries -- there's distinction, see, between them and us. The deeds they do for coin fall on the wrong side of the law. We try ta keep the peace more'n anything else, and we keep our noses clean. The Longkeel wouldn't find welcome port many places if we took sides and struck first. Course, that don't mean we're strictly law-abiding citizens. We just tell little white lies, and, sometimes, bring in things that aren't hurt nobody just by being there. See? Whole different class. It keeps the squabbling down 'tween the crew. Still happens, but we got more to argue about on most days than what decisions the folks back home are making.
Trouble is, sometimes, things don't go the way you want. You know how that is, right? You 'spect the folk -- religious folk, 'specially -- to be honest. And when they ain't, your whole crew's got an opinion on how you should take it or if you should let the batters have at 'em some more. Or if you should have at 'em yourself and take what's rightly owed to you and your's. And don't you think I wasn't tempted neither. They warn't no poor missionaries -- that fellow they had in charge was wearing so many shinies he practically glittered in the sunlight. But those are s'posed to be religious artifacts, or so he said.
Look, I don't think the batters were right. And I'm not gonna extort helpless folk being harassed for some coin. But they never shoulda struck up that agreement with the cap if'n they wasn't gonna pay up. That's all I'm saying. Especially 'cause if those batters hadn't scattered the way they did, we might've been bringing back somebody hurt. And medicine always costs a lot of money, don't it?
"Thanks," I mutter. I hoist the box out of Jade's saddlebag -- a pretty plain wooden thing that has our so-called payment in it: a couple songbooks and some apples, of all things. I'm in no mood for talking -- and he ain't quite hisself either. "I better get in there 'fore he hears about this from somebody else. I'll see what I can do about getting some shore leave or...or something to lift some spirits. And keep Colizabel and Orset apart, yeah? We don't need a second showing of last month."
"Aye aye, ma'am." Thomer answers as he moves up to work on Jade's saddle. "Oil an' water, those two. Night an' day."
You head across the wooden deck of the Longkeel, past the dozen or so sky sailors toiling away. Some are swabbing the deck, others working on the rigging and moving sails. A couple glance your way. That one Sailor Hence gives you a wave before he continues climbing the rigging. He's got a nice smile, doesn't he?
After crossing the deck and climbing a set of stairs to the giant wheel that steers the Longkeel, you reach "the cap", Helmsmaster Vail.
Helmsmaster Vail refuses to call himself "captain", but since there is no captain and most every defers to him, he pretty much is. What happened to the last captain, Math?
Vail looks over at his assistant, a woman in her thirties named Kara. Kara stands up from her small writing desk and takes the helm.
Vail moves over to meet you, "I see the whole wing made it back. How was the trip?" The wind is gentle today, conversation doesn't have to be shouted.
Sorry, gov'nor, t'wasn't Hence's smile I was looking at. Well, not jus' his smile. I offered him a smile and nod of my own while he was lookin' my way, but he's got somethin' else real pretty that his climbin' around like that shows off real nice. You'd have to be blind not to notice. I'm just sayin'.
Vail's a pretty loyal fellow like that. Says there won't be another captain aboard the Longkeel if he's got any say in it, and, so far, that seems to be ringing true. We wasn't here when it happened -- the wing was out dealing with something else. She came under attack by some raiders we'd put a stop to some weeks previous. The captain kept the ship afloat and alive long enough for us to reach her, but only because he surprised 'em personally when they tried to board. He took a shot for Vail and a couple other of the crew -- half a dozen in total, they say -- but what finally did him in was the grenade. Picked it up and charged right over the rail at 'em. Took out their captain and a lot of his men, and it also freed up the tow line and gave the Longkeel a chance to bring her arms to bear. He saved a lot of people, and people like us don't forget our heroes. We got so few of 'em, you know, so we hang tight when we do find one.
"The flying was fine. Batters skedaddled with nary a shot fired. Guess we looked too pretty for 'em to want to bloody us up." Taking the box out from under my arm, I hold it out to him with what I'm sure is a flat, unamused expression. I'm trying to take my cue from Thomer, trying to look at this with some humor -- ain't no reason to blame Vail for this -- but I'm irritable right now. "Payment's a little on the absent side. Unless you was wanting to start a choir and was worried about us getting all our vitamins."
Vail's eyes light up when you present the box to him. Hemotions you over tot he small desk, which has an amazing view of the sky. He carefully opens it and pulls out the first songbook to leaf through the pages. "Oh, my dear Math. I'm not starting a choir. Not at all." He stops at hymn forty eight, jamming a finger on the page and excitedly running it over the chords. "Yes. yes, yes, this is it!"
He closes the songbook in one hand and looks over at you. The wind is softly blowing his long hair across his face, but he doesn't notice. "This book is a key. It's a key to a map that the captain held for us all. I didn't think those Khandi had it, but I guess he wasn't lying. Now we just need to follow where it leads!" He grins like a madman.
What do you do?
Oh, so there is a reason to blame him? I realize I'm starin' -- prolly look like a damned fool with my mouth hangin' open like it 'tis and my face turnin' a few shades o' red.
"That is the payment?" I'm so busy seethin' that the bit about maps hasn't even sunk in yet. I'd be a bit tickled at the notion, I s'pose, if I hadn't just acted like a right tosser. Well, not as big a tosser as Colizabel, but I sure wasn't friendly neither when they handed over the box. I'm pretty sure that frustration comes out in my voice, in spite of my effort to keep it even. "D'ya think ya might tell us the next time you send us after some songbooks?"
The way he's looking at me -- he looks a bit touched, if I do say so, with that gleam in his eye that some people get when they ain't playin' with a full deck. "Wait. Whaddaya mean, a map?"
Vail looks up at you for a moment, brows furrowed. Then, he answers plainly, "I wanted y'all to be pissed about the payment. Think he was shorting you, that I was some idiot after songbooks. Otherwise, that tricksie bastard would've realized what he had." He stands up straighter, claps your back, "No hard feelings, right, Math?"
You ask about the map and he wiggles his brows, "A treasure map, Math. Don't tell your wing, we don't want word getting out at every port. But there's a key, and a map. This here, is the key."
I cross my arms and glower sullenly at him. Oh, sure, he had a good reason'n all -- or he thinks he does, anyway -- but I'm not about to be persuaded outta giving him an earful. Me and Vail mostly get on pretty good on account of his easy-going nature, but we've had our disputes before.
"I'm not sayin' there's not a map and a key, even if I never heard of 'em before." There could be. Maybe. I can't say my curiosity isn't piqued... But I've chased enough stories in my life to know the sound of one. And I said I was mad, didn't I? "But you sent me and mine in without givin' us the full picture. That's the same as not trustin' us to do our job. And now you put us in a spot, 'cause the whole wing's barking mad and like to be at each other. And when word gets out we're takin' apples and songbooks, that's like to be all we get!"
Vail listens, he does that well enough. "Tell you what. I've got some coin of my own. What say you take enough to double their pay for this? Tell them you squeezed me for it, punishment for sending you on a wild goose chase." His eyes twinkle again, hoping he's catching you in his snare.
I like the idea of being the hero here -- I really do. Usually when I stand up for the wing, it's because someone's started a fight or accidentally blown up the aft roost. Even if I get them outta most of the trouble with the brass, I still have to come in yelling and screaming. But this time, everybody's done good, and I wouldn't mind being the one to let 'em know it.
Some of the tension offa me, but I keep my arms crossed. He's winning me over -- I don't stay mad long, and he knows it. "'Tain't jes' the money. You got some hurt feelings to smooth over, mine especially." I lift a hand to my mouth, as if in thought. Really, it's to cover the ghost of a smile I'm fighting down. "You put us in port and give us leave to spend that money -- and you swear to be on the Seven you won't do that again -- and we got ourselves a deal."
He knows the game. He plays it through. Nods. "As long as the map business stays between us, I'll pull into port on the morrow. How long a leave do you and yours need?"
"Few days at most," I answer decidedly. Just some time to unwind and spend some time to ourselves. Or, at least, apart from the folks ruffling our feathers. It would do us all, Colizabel 'specially, some good.
I hold out my hand for to shake, and then, satisfied, I give him a nod.
With that ugly business out of the way, it's a lot harder to keep my excitement in check. A slow grin lifts the corners of my mouth as I lean forward. "Now, tell me more about that map..."
Might be something, might not be -- but if there's a chance it's something, I definitely want in.
Vail looks over at his second, who is busy at the wheel, then beckons you to come into captain's quarters.
This room is a bit dusty, which is tough to do in an airship. There is dark mahogany throughout, with a table that has an ornate display of the Seven Islands that actually rotate around the sun. There are bookshelves with leather-bound tomes, all affixed by latches and loops to keep them in place. Vail grabs one, then pulls a key out of his hair to open the lock, opens it up to lay on the table in front of you.
It's a ledger, filled with notes written in a flowing script, all coded. He explains, "Tarrenan Military Tribunal has made a habit of hiding away secret caches of gold. One of their junta, Carghesh, stole away more than most, and he even kept it from his fellows. He died last year, and nobody has found the hundreds of thousands of coin that they say was his. I'd chalked it up to rumor until our captain found this ledger and told me about the key. Now that we have both, we should be able to figure out where that old bastard hid all that gold, Math." He looks up, "We can't trust the crew to keep their lips sealed, though. As far as they know, we're still working. Right?"
I lean over the book, and I squint a bit as I try to make heads or tails of it. Course it don't make much sense -- that's what the key is for. If it were that easy, the captain would've cracked the code long before Vail found out about it.
Hundreds of thousands of coin... Even split up, that's enough to make anybody here wealthy. And bigger portions for the officers, of course... I hadn't ever let myself wonder what I would do with that kind of money before...
I give him an absent nod and finally tear my eyes away from the book. "Sure. But how's a songbook s'posed to make sense of this? And how do you know that it does?"
Vail looks up from the ledger and gives you a wry look, "Math, my friend. Don't you remember when I told you about my mother the Cantare? She spellsings. I never had the talent, but I learned how to hear music and know it's deeper meaning. Well, this little church sings this hymn at revivals, and one of the crew, you know Hence, right? He came back humming it, and I knew it was related." He grins, "Alright, I had a hunch."
To be honest, I'm kinda sorry I asked for some leave now. A map to some forgotten treasure. A key hidden in a song. This is the kinda thing people like us spend our whole lives searching for.
But, the rest of the wing don't know. They need the time off.
And, I suppose, a few days won't change nothin'. Code's still gotta be cracked and all that.
I grin right back at him and nod. "Okay. I'm in. You have a heading or any other clues?"
"I have a guess." he answers. "I am willing to bet it's in one of the pebbles around Olmar, those archipelago islands that string off the shore." He's referring to the tiny string of floating islands that dot the western coast of Olmar. "I doubt he'd have the pull to do any large move of treasure in Tarrena, you know? It's just a guess, though. I'll need to see if the ledger confirms anything."
S'not exactly good news... I shift uneasily as I try to bring up my concerns without soundin' like a little girl beggin' her papa to check the closet and under the bed for monsters. Most things I would be glad to face down for that much coin...but them islands got a particular reputation...
I realize I'm kinda starin' at the book again in silence, and I clear my throat quietly. "Crew's gonna get awful skittish when they find out where we're headed. Curse or no curse, that ol' battlefield was never cleared up. They say..." Well, what they say is that it's haunted by those who died there, that the ghosts of those never put to rest proper-like trap ships in the ruins of their own vessels and wreck 'em. But that sounds ridiculous out loud. Instead, I say, "They say that graveyard's impossible to navigate."
Vail smirks, "I think I can navigate it." But then, he admits, "Keeping the crew under control, without the captain. It will be tough. Could you talk to Rho, let 'em in on the hunt? I think Rho can help us keep things in line. I'll bring Kivan in. And yes, you're the first to know."
He's sure of himself -- and that's good. It kinda rubs off on people, the way it's rubbing off on me right now. I really believe that if anyone can do it, it's Vail. I still got that unsettled feeling in my gut, but, for now, sure, I think we can do it.
"You sure know how to flatter a girl, Helmsmaster," I smirk back. "Aye-aye, sir. I'll go give the wing the good news before I go looking for Rho."
Assandre comes up as soon as you pop your head in. She comes up before Thomer is done talking with his big, ugly vulture. She glances over her shoulder, "I think 'Lizabel is going to shoot Orset this time. I can't talk sense into her, and Thomer just makes jokes, saying it'll be alright." She pulls up short, looks at you again, "Hey, why are you smiling?" It isn't an accusation, merely curiosity.
Neither Orset nor Catlip sleep in here. Who knows where Orset beds down -- I put it down to one of her quirks. Catlip's got a hammock in here, but I don't think I ever seen her use it but rarely...but if anybody was to ask, we'd say she does. She says she likes to sleep up on deck in the open air, but everybody knows she and Zen have been keepin' each other warm at night for months. Leastways, everybody knows but Vail, and no one wants to be the one to tell 'im.
Was I smiling? I s'pose so. I'm excited. And, anyway, that's alright -- I got good news, and, after all, the wing did pretty good out there.
"'Cause I got good news for everyone. Tell everybody I want 'em here soon as possible. Orset'll be fine 'til then, and I reckon 'Lizabel won't be in much of a shootin' mood. Leastways, not more'n usual. Alright?"
No Orset, huh? There's always gotta be one, doesn't there? "Anyone seen Orset since we got back?"
Thought's barely entered my mind about 'Lizabel. She's a bit rough around the edges, sure, but she ain't mean-spirited enough to actually hurt Orset. Not badly, anyway, though Orset does seem sometimes to go outta her way to get under her skin. It's strange, though, to see Jewel all saddled-up yet. Orset's a bit unhinged, sure, but she takes care of her bird.
"I got some new t'share with you lot," I tell 'em as I cross over to Jewel. She's a bit skittish -- which is funny, considering her rider -- but I want to make sure she gets settled in and thanked for a job well done too. "But I want you all to hear it at once." I hate repeating myself. "Hey, pretty bird," I add more softly to the hummingbird. "Look at you, still all saddled up. Where'd that girl disappear to, hm?"
Catlip pipes up, "She said she was feeling kinda weird. I think she went up top. I'll go get her." She takes off at a jog while you get the saddle off Jewel. Thomer comes over to help, looking a bit apologetic that he hadn't already done this.
A couple minutes later, Catlip comes down, followed by Orset, who seems a bit drawn in, but otherwise ok.
"What's the news, Math?" Falius asks, breaking the silence.
I give Thomer an approving nod and a smile to thank him -- he had had two birds to take care of already, and it's not his job, besides. I'll have to have a chat with Orset, find out what's what. She usually ain't so easy to put down...
Right. The news. I feel a bit bad havin' to keep certain things t'myself, but I understand why Vail wants it kept quiet-like...
"I got good news and better news. I told Vail 'bout the good work you did out there today, and he wants you all to know he appreciates the lot of you. So, the good news is I got a few days leave outta Vail. We'll be puttin' in at port tomorrow. Better news is he's given ya some extra coin to spend while we're there on whatever makes ya happy."
"Hell yes, Math!" Colizabel says. "Short leave is exactly what I need right now!" Orset rolls her eyes, like it's obvious Colizabel needs off the ship.
Thomer chimes in with, "That's grand. Good show." Falius, Assandre and Catlip are happy about it, too.
"How many days? How much coin?" Catlip asks, eager for more details.
I grin smugly at their approval, even if, technically, I didn't have to do all that arm-bending that I'm letting on I did.
"Few days. I s'pose ship's gotta restock'n all, so we got time to stretch our legs a bit." And Vail needed time to decipher his map...if that songbook really is the key, anyway. "And I wager the rest of the crew'll want some time off too." Zen, for instance. Those kids could go get lost together for a few days and no one'd be the wiser. That'd be pretty sweet, actually. "As to the coin, the Helmsmaster is doublin' our pay for that run. His way of sayin' he's sorry, I s'pose. You lot'd better thank him when next you see 'im."
I catch Orset's eye and give a slight nod in the direction of Jewel, then I step deliberately away from Jewel to give Orset an opening to take my place. I'm not sure if she'll catch on, but I don't want to put her out worse by callin' her out in front of the wing unless I gotta.
"That's all I wanted to say. That, and t'thank you for the job you done. Yer free to go."
"Two cheers for our Wingmaster, because we all know ole Vail wouldn't double pay if she didn't bend his ear for it!" Thomer calls. The rest of them give a whoop, especially Catlip, you can see her plotting her getaway with Zen even now.
As your wing starts breaking up to duties, or to grab some food, Colizabel sticks around, "Math, can I have a word?"
I give them all a bright grin, though I'm blushing a bit, I can tell. It's a bit o' the attention. But it's also a bit o' the lyin' I'm doing makin' me feel bad.
I give Colizabel a brief nod and wait for the rest of the wing to filter off to tend to their own business. It's just as well -- I've a feelin' I ain't gonna like anything either Colizabel or Orset got to say. "I'll have a word with you too, Orset, soon as I'm done with her. I'll be right back." It's a neutral tone I'm using; I think about putting a hand on her shoulder, but I don't. Lizabel is tough -- I'm pretty sure Orset ain't done nothin' so bad as that to make her angry, but until I know for sure and for certain, I gotta do my level best not to pick sides. Instead, I use my foot to push away from the pole I'd kinda taken up leaning against.
"I wanted t'talk to you too, Colizabel. Heard you were pretty upset 'bout something, and I'd like to see if we can't get to the bottom of it." That seems pretty neutral, right?
Colizabel walks with you, out onto the deck before she answers. "Math. I missed last month." She swallows, looks off into the sky. "I don't know what to do."
What does happen to pregnant riders? Do they get to keep flying? Is that your call?
...And the hits just keep comin', don't they? Of all the things I expected her to say, it wasn't that. That just puts me off my guard and makes my stomach do a flip all on it's own.
I guess the final say-so is down to me, sure, but it comes down to whether a rider is fit for flight. And how it affects the bird. Animals, sometimes, get a little goofy when their rider is in that condition -- hormones, or something, I s'pose. Back when I was just a kid, I saw this glider in the market attack somebody he thought was gettin' too close to his rider. And right after I joined the wing, Liecia's lark refused to leave the roost. 'Course, I hear the lady gets goofy too, and I got enough on my plate without somebody having a mental breakdown.
I press my palm against my lips and tap my index finger on my cheek as I turn it over. I don't want to have to be the one to give the final say-so... "Well, are ya gonna wanna keep it?"
There's no dancing 'round that question.
Colizabel sucks her teeth for a moment, then heads over to the edge of the ship near the forecastle, her back to you. Her shoulders are tense when she answers, "No. I don't want it. Don't want anybody to take the sky away from me, Math. This is all I want." She pats the banister, lets her hand rest on it.
I understand that feeling all too well. Nothing compares to bein' up there in the clouds, just you and your bird and your thoughts. Even on my worst day, that's all I need to bring a smile to my face. I wouldn't want to give it up neither. I couldn't. Not for anything.
"Then you got some hard choices to make." I give a sigh, and then I join her. My hands splay out on the rail, and I thumb a deep groove that had once been a splinter. Somebody's taken the time to rub it smooth again, but it's still there lookin' like a scar. "You put any thought into..." I don't wanna say it, not so cold and bare like that. "...What options you got?"
"All the options are awful." Colizabel says in her understated way. "I could take the tanna root," an expensive herbal remedy that abort pregnancies, at great pain, sometimes making the women barren, occasionally killing them. "I could give it to my cousin, but she already has six. I won't sell it, though. No way."
What country buys babies, Math? What do they buy them for, do you know?
Gotta respect her for that. From what I heard, Khandians'll pay a bit o' coin for children. It's not much, certainly not enough to comfort a mother, but for some o' the folk, they got little choice. Send 'em to Khand or watch 'em starve. They say the children are brought up well enough in monasteries and the like 'til they're old enough to become missionaries. Seems to have worked well enough in some places.
If this was any other day, I'd be more seriously turning things over. But, today, I know something she don't. And that money -- if it exists -- could make all the difference in her decision-makin'.
"How's Mister Brackenberry takin' to it?" That's the biggest concern right now. By the time she starts ta show, hopefully we'll be richer. A lot richer. But I can't have a bird under my command that don't follow orders.
Her shoulders are still a bit tense, but the calm way you've taken the news seems to help. "Mister B's fine, like nothing's wrong. I don't think he'll be a problem for a few more weeks."
"Right." There's a kind of finality to my tone. I've made up my mind. Not that I wasn't hopin' Vail was right before...but now I'm hopin' a bit harder. That money could go a long way toward helpin' Colizabel figure out her situation. "You'll let me know if he starts actin' out, won't you? 'Til then, you're a part o' this wing, same as ever. And then, whatever you choose, I'll do my best ta help ya out. Sound fair?"
"It's fair," she agrees. "I appreciate it, Math." She seems more relaxed, wants to stick around on deck for a bit, by herself.
There's a certain sailor keeping his eyes on you from the rigging. He grins when you look up his way. He's tanned and muscled, working at the ropes with practiced hands and moving around with uncanny strength and control.
There's that talk done. The sight of a certain somebody up top momentarily distracts me, and I catch myself givin' him a grin right back. I gotta make myself fight it down. I clasp my hands firmly behind him, give him a slight nod to say, yes, I see you up there, and then deliberately angle myself so that he's a bit behind me.
This here's serious -- it's no time to be ogling the hands. "Colizabel, while I got you out here, what's goin' on 'tween you and Orset?"
Not always. I flew with Cecy aboard the End back before she came Wingmaster of the Longkeel, and it was Cecy who invited me over. Most of the ol' team left 'fore I took over, but Orset's still here, same as ever. I don't think she's got anywhere else to go. It was me who recruited Colizabel. S'much trouble as she's been some days, she's also never let us down either. I guess I knew her spunk'd be hard to manage, but Cecy was still in charge in them days, so I didn't think much on it.
"I know Orset's been here longer than me," Colizabel says. "But, Math, she's dangerous. Did you see that damned spear-launcher? She was in my way with her stupid bird, and Mister B was clipped! Just took some feathers, thankfully, but I swear. She gets on my last nerve." She trails off a little, like the sudden anger surprised even her.
My lips purse into a frown. Nah, I hadn't seen that -- but I should've. And that's my failing for not watching my own wing.
"I'll talk to her. And talk to Thomer, see what we can do 'bout putting you on t'other end apart from her." But that was just a temporary fix. Orset spends a lot of time in her own head, but she ain't usually so distracted as this. "But if you got a problem with her, you come to me or Thomer from now on. Got it?"
Colizabel's mouth narrows a little. "If she gets Mister B hurt and I don't die falling, you'll hear about it. I promise you that."
"T'ain't gonna happen." I'm confident it won't, one way or t'other. But this means we got a bigger issue now, one of trust. That's hard enough to build up without these kinds of things getting in the way. If we're flyin' into somewheres, we need to be looking at our targets, not wonderin' if we're gonna get a spear in our backs. "I'm talking to her next."
Why is my to-do list getting to be so big??
"Hey, you make sure you take some time tomorrow for yerself when we put in at port. And get Mister Brackenberry a treat or somethin' on my tab. Them's yer orders." I offer her a smile, knowing just how much she likes bein' bossed around.
Heading to Orset now?
That's one down, one to go. I hope Orset stuck to the roost, or I'll have to go track her down -- which ain't as easy a thing to do as one might think. I think she knows more about this ship than most everyone else.
I can't help but spare a glance skywards at the hands in the rigging as I head for the hatch. I can't spare the time to stop, but I'm kinda hopin' to catch sight of another of those grins, anyway.
As for Orset, she's not in the roost. If you want to track her down, I think you'll need to get a feel for the situation. This is a "normal" difficulty, so you're rolling five dice (dice in Keelstone are d12s). You're rolling against your Wisdom, which is a 5. You want to roll a 5 or lower. For each 5 or lower showing on your dice, you get a "hit".
Spend hits one-for-one to learn:
> The best way out, through, or past.
> Which enemy is the biggest threat.
> What you should be worrying about.
> Who is in charge of some group.
> Where things or enemies could be hidden or waiting.
> When your allies could attack in order to get the drop on your opponents (and +1
die to all their first attacks). Pick this only if no enemies are yet present.
Orset's weird neglect of Jewel earlier and her sudden disappearance seems to indicate she's well aware that she hurt Mister Brackenberry. She might be doing drops again. She quit the alchemical far-seeing eye drops a few times, but it's a temptation for her in her darker moods.
Falius might know of anyone on the Longkeel who can make the stuff.
That girl... If I wasn't so worried about her for disappearin' like this, I'd be downright perturbed. I give Jewel a quick check-over, just makin' sure Orset's not left her without proper care again, and then it's off to find Falius.
This day's just getting longer and longer, ain't it?
I take a few steps before I realize I'm practically stompin' 'round, then take a deep breath and steady myself. Actin' like a little girl's prolly just gonna make things worse -- and stompin' around might give the birds a fright besides.
Hopefully, Falius hasn't swanned off to anywhere unusual. He's usually not that hard to find. There's just one or two places that are open enough without the wind for him to play with all his pretty bits'n'bobs...
He looks up when you come in, then quickly down at the vial he has in his hand. He pours some smoking liquid into an inert one, which bubbles. "Wingmaster. How are you?"
"Had better days, Falius." I watch the bubbling concoction uneasily. You think I would've learned by now not to ask questions 'bout what he's up to, but I s'pose I never did. S'always a part of me wonderin' if he's gonna blow up the whole boat. Or just himself. Alchemy's one of them things I never learned too much about -- most times it's been explained to me, it's prismane this or gossypol that and oxidation and complexation. S'all I know is it's a dangerous thing, which is why all that bubblin's makin' me nervous.
"Um, whatcha workin' on there? I gotta ask you somethin'."
Without looking up, Falius answers, "Do you remember those rashvines I kept picking? Lizabel gave me guff, said she was slowing us down." He holds up the bubbling flask to the light. It oscillates between a green liquid and slightly brown. "Rashvine's a very potent skin irritant. I think, if I can get the mix right, we could use this on bat-riders. I imagine those twitchy things will flip their riders and flap away."
I'm relieved to hear his concoction's not gonna blow us outta the sky. At least, it's not s'posed to. Still, I keep some space between me and the mix, just in case. "S'not a bad idea. I'll look forward to tryin' anything if it means less trouble for the wing." Batters are notoriously underhanded, 'specially at night. This might be a nice way to turn the tables on 'em.
Course, you gotta hit 'em first, and that's part of the problem.
"You happen to see Orset today at all? Know what's up with her?"
Falius reaches into a pouch on the table to pull out a small pouch of yellow powder, then drops a pinch into the flask. The smoke turns slightly reddish, then fades again. "Orrie came through. Headed down to the hold, I think. Probably find her laying near the furnace. She likes to sweat when she's sad. She looked sad."
Sad. Dunno why that gives me pause, but it does. Maybe 'cause I don't think Orset and sad belong in the same place. She's a complicated woman -- obviously not right in the head, sure, but complicated -- and "sad" just don't seem to suit her. It's too small and simple.
I lean in a bit, in spite of the alchemical mixture. S'not a lotta people here, but them that are don't need to be listenin' in. This's none of their business. "You ain't heard 'bout anyone sellin' drops lately, have you?"
That gets his attention. "No." He looks up to give you direct eye contact. "Nobody is selling it, especially not me."
"'S'not an accusation, Falius. I know you know better than to mess with that stuff." I give him a smile, try to instill some confidence in him. It really hadn't been. I think better o' my wing than that. I'm feeling tired all of a sudden, though, like I'm gettin' nowhere fast. "Just... You bein' the alchemical expert you are, I figured you'd know if anybody did. I'm worried is all." I push back and stand, but I pause to add, "Just let me know if you hear somethin', 'kay? And good work with the rashvines there. Can't wait to see 'em in action, yeah?"
Furnace next. It's not a room I see much of. It's hot, sure, but it's a menacing kind of hot with all them flickering shadows and echoing sounds. I dunno why, but it reminds me too much of the camps from when I was a little girl. Seems the way this day is goin', having to track somebody down in there that don't wanna be found just makes sense.
You head down two flights of stairs to the underbelly of the ship, the hold itself. The Longkeel is always ferrying something or other on voyages, even if it isn't the main intent of the voyage. Something your quartermaster likes doing to help keep things profitable. It means extra work for everyone, of course, but the shares at the end of the month are a little bit better.
Like Falius suggested, Orset is in the engine room, where the boiler keeps water hot and steam flowing to the few devices that use them. The ship runs on magic stone and sail, but the amenities of the place run on steam. It is baking hot here, like a Jundi sauna.
The steam engines run on coal and wood, and the furnace is kept up by a few sailors. Right now, it's empty, save Orset and now you. The room is tight, with coal bins to the left, and a small empty space to the right, where Orset is lying on the floor now.
Orset's ship is damp, her hair is clinging to her scalp, and she looks up at you with eye half-lidded. "Lo there, Maff." she says in a lazy drawl. "Comit to yell at me in privates?" She slaps the wooden floor beside her.
I give an uneasy look 'round the room, tryin' to shake off that feelin' that's settled between my shoulder-blades, but soon as I see Orset there on the floor, that feelin's settled in my gut instead. T'ain't an improvement.
I don't say a word as I accept her offerin' of a seat. I don't know what she's spectin', if she thinks I'm gonna start right in on her or what. I don't do that. I don't do nothin' for a minute. I just sit. And, then, I ask quietly, "How are ya, Orset?"
"Fair to middlin', or thereabouts." she says in a lazy tone. "Lizabell tell ya I clipped Mister B? Ya already got me on J bird. Been a day o' days."Her eyes are a little swimmy, she's taken drops probably.
I answer her with a bit of a nod. Oh, Orset, how can you keep turnin' to those things? They say they don't do nothin' to you, not like some of the other stuff out there, but the dangers of flyin' and fightin' under the influence aside, have you ever seen somebody who takes that stuff on the regular? They're wrecked.
"You wanna tell me what happened out there?" I'm hopin' she'll open up, give me something I can work with.
"I misjudged." Orset says simply. "J ducked, an Mister B weaved, and 'twent all trollops. I'd say sorries but Lizabell don't hear such." She looks at you now, "An I was clear 'eaded. Just dropped afters. On me own time."
I sigh softly, glad, at least, she wasn't stupid enough to be on those things while we're out there. Small favors, I suppose. It don't make me feel much better.
"You could've told me." Seems kind of an obvious thing people keep forgettin'. I'm supposed to be managing this here rabble, and it seems nobody tells me nothin'. "What d'ya think hiding's gonna do for you that ownin' up to whatcha've done ain't?"
My mother had asked me that same thing once after I'd broken a small vase she'd carried with us all the way from Tarrena. S'not really the same, but it was a sensible question then and it's a sensible question now.
"Could've. Should've. Didn't. Sorry, love." She says as she reaches into her pouch, looking for and finding a dropper. She sits up a little, and starts working to get the viscous liquid in the dropper and dose herself. "Lizabel likes bein mad, Math. Doncha know? She'll 'ate me fer doin' it, fer apologizin', fer not. This ways the path o' least resistance. Don't ya worry though, 'tall work itself out afore long."
She tilts her head back, raising the dropper, "Won't be a trouble much longer, love."
Fine, if she wanted to act the petulant child, then I'd treat her like one. Before she can raise her hand, I grab hold o' her wrist. "I think you've had enough, Orset."
"It don't matter if she's mad. You don't do that, not to your teammates." I'm actually kinda angry 'bout it. I can't say if it's the drops doin' the talking, but it was her decision to come down here'n take 'em instead.
"Whaddaya mean, won't be a trouble much longer?"
She knits her brows when you grab her wrist, but she doesn't fight you. "Back on Jund. Saw me a physicker. Third one, two diff'rent skylands. Same story. I got me Phineas Mnemophrenia." She says it flat, but there's a hurt in her eyes.
Phineas Mnemophrenia is a malady where you remember things that have never happened, until eventually your mind is completely gone, and you think you're someone who's never existed. It's been linked to the drops, but then... drugs always get a bad reputation from doctors. They really don't know.
I want to pull her into a hug and tell her it will be okay, like you would do if she really was just a kid. But if I did that, it would be more for me than for her, I think, so instead I just try to keep it together, try to look unshakable and like I got it all together and like that ain't just made me feel like my heart's been ripped out and stomped on.
Losing Orset. Might be losing Colizabel. Wing's sure gonna be different.
"How bad is it?"
"Well," Orset says, a hissing laugh escaping, "I still know I'm torked. So's it taint too bad. Don't know how long till I'm too far gone. That'll be up to ya, I figger."
"Drops ain't gonna help," I tell her firmly. There's a lotta things I wanna tell her, but I guess I gotta look at this realistically. I don't know much 'bout Phineas Mnemophrenia, to be honest. I've got the good fortune not to know a lot of people sufferin' from it. I got no idea how fast it comes on...but I know it can be dangerous if Orset suddenly decides she ain't cut out for flyin' in the middle of a mission.
"You got somewhere you can go?"
She pats the floor of the ship, "Taint lived nowheres else but th' Keel fer long odd a decade. S'where they'll shove me ta th' sky."
That there is a sobering thought. Most people at least got family somewhere...though I'm not sure if family'd really be much help with this kind o' thing.
If that money is really there and if we get it, she can go somewhere, live out the rest of her days in whatever style she likes. And I won't feel so bad putting her off the boat. Seems like it's becomin' something of a necessity, that money.
"Here's the deal, Orset. You keep off them drops -- they's supposed to agitate the condition, or so I heard -- and you stay put for a few weeks. But you gotta start lookin' 'round for a port you wouldn't mind callin' home. I can't put you up there if you're not in your right mind. You know that, right?" And I'm fairly certain Vail wouldn't take kindly to having somebody who don't know nothin' 'bout sailing on board the Keel either -- depending, that is, on who Orset decides to be. "But if I catch you down here with them things again or if I find out you ain't been doin' your duties or lookin' after Jewel, we'll be puttin' you to port at the first one we come across."
"Aye aye, mum." Orset says, handing the drops to you. She seems guilty, in her way. "I doubt any folks'll want me. D'rather stay on the Keel, but I don't want ta be a burden."
I give her a nod and a smile as she hands over them things, please a touch that I got through to her. It don't solve nothin' -- just hides the problem away for right now -- but it's something. "I'll talk to the officers, see if we can't find a place for you, Orset. And if that ain't to your likin', we'll come up with somethin' else."
Don't ever let it be said I don't look after me and mine own.
"'Bout that other thing with Colizabel. I'm gonna talk to Thomer, see if I can't find a way to put you on opposite sides o' the wing. You just say you're sorry and try not to rile any more o' her feathers, and you come to me if there's a problem. Okay?"
Orset says a bit more sullenly, "Aye aye, mum."
"Alright, then. I'll see you for mess, right?" With that sorted -- more sorted than it was when I walked in here, anyway -- I rise to my feet and tuck the dropper away. Gonna have to get rid of that somewhere along the way -- don't want it givin' Orset any more ideas.
Right, now, what was I doin' before this? Oh, yeah. Guess I gotta track Rho down. Hopefully, there won't be any more mischief between here and there.
This is Armsmaster Rho:
He sees you from the table where he's sitting, peers at you for a moment like he's not sure why you're here. "Allo, Math. You're back late. Trouble?"
"You know how it is. Trouble kinda follows me around some. I think you'd be more surprised if'n I said there wasn't none." I offer him a smirk, in no small way influenced by how silly Rho looks sittin' at the table there. He's a big guy, and that little table makes him look like he's been squeezed in to fit.
"You gotta minute we can talk, Rho?"
Rho nods, sliding out from behind the table to stand up. He walks out of the room with you, "Walk and talk?" He's headed out of the armory with you. "What's going on?" Rho doesn't have his own quarters, he sleeps in a hammock with the crew. You know he normally likes to talk near the hold, where there are walls and less prying ears.
I give it a good few paces, let us get away from the crew before launching into my explanation. Well, I guess it ain't my explanation -- it's Vail's, and I hope I'm doin' it justice.
"Vail's got something, somethin' he wants to keep from the crew for a bit 'til he can confirm it." I take a deep breath. "S'a map left to him by the captain. Well, it ain't a map exactly -- it's all coded and what-not -- but Vail thinks he's got the key. And if it's the real thing, that map's gonna lead us to the lost treasure of junta Carghesh." Map sounds more impressive than "ledger'. And more excitin', too.
"A treasure map?" Rho asks as if this is a joke. "Are you joking? Vail?"
"I wondered that m'self, but Vail's serious 'bout this." It did sound outlandish -- but I already knew that, didn't I? "That Carghesh fellow's left a sum o' money somewheres, and none o' his know where to find it. That's what this map is for. Supposedly."
Course, Vail could be playin' a terrible joke on me, couldn't he? Laughin' at me tryin' to convince the ship 'bout a made-up treasure. That'd be something, wouldn't it?
"Rho, you know how Vail is, but he ain't ever bet the ship or anything belongin' to anybody else at the table. If he thought there was nothin' out there, he wouldn't be steerin' the whole ship there."
Rho listens, arms crossed once you both stop to talk. "What you need me to do to help, little one?" His scars and his muscles, along with his grumpy attitude hide the fact that he cares deeply for this crew. Hiding this from them does not sit well with him.
"If the map goes where Vail thinks it goes, we might have a problem." That was the short and long of it, wasn't it? "We gotta keep quiet 'til he confirms it and we're underway -- can't have anyone gettin' there before us. I get that." It sounds more like I'm tryin' to convince m'self than Rho. But, mostly, I'm jus' tryin' to avoid the next part.
"Trouble is where it's at. Where Vail thinks it's at, anyway. He thinks it's on Olmar. Out 'round those islands there. Ain't nobody on board's gonna like that."
Rho curses, "Damnation! Olmar?" He looks around, dropping his voice a touch. "The Archipelagos are filled with skysharks and worse. The crew will pitch a fit." He peers at you for a moment, scratching his chin, "If we're headed there, should we pick up anything on the way, maybe?"
"I been thinkin' on that some." I hadn't been, not really. Too busy thinkin' on Colizabel and Orset and wondering what other trouble's comin' my way. "Vail's agreed to put in at port for a few days, and I'm hopin' that'll keep folks from bein' too mad." That was step one. But to deal with everything else... That was a whole 'nother issue.
"Vail's talkin' to Kivan, so I s'pose they'll take care of anything they need for the boat itself. Patchwork and what-not." Vail's a damned fine navigator, but that don't mean a bit o' extra tar and patches would be amiss. If any o' those wrecks tear a hole in our hull, we'll be stuck 'til we get it fixed up. "Them sharks ain't so tough from underneath, but some tougher tips for our lances would make our job easier. Best thing to use against shark is shark." Shark teeth that size are expensive though. Might have to settle for good ol' reliable steel. "Can't say I know much 'bout anybody sailin' in them waters frequent-like. I don't know if it's better to look peaceable or too big'n scary to bother with."
"You know me, Math," Rho says with a completely serious face, "I like the big and scary option."
Anything else with Rho? After him, do you grab a bite to eat, check on anything else?
Of course he does. I'm not at all surprised. Still, I give him a grin and a pat on the arm before heading out to find Thomer. It's gettin' on mess hour -- I didn't know how hungry I was 'til three bells sounded. How long have I spent chasin' folk down?
I'm still in my ridin' clothes. We don't dress up for evenin' mess or nothin', but I s'pose I might put away my jacket and goggles at least. And tidy up a bit -- that steam didn't do me no favors, like as not, and I can't go around looking like a frazzled mess, can I?
I'll wanna take Orset with me to see Kivan, see what we can do for the girl. But that can wait. And, at some point, I'll have to find Thomer and update him on the situation, see what he thinks of it. But none o' that's pressing, not yet. Nothin' ever comes easy, does it?
"Sorry Jewel wasn't in good shape earlier. I should have caught that, ma'am." Thomer says as he eats his second biscuit.
"You better take it easy on those biscuits, Thomer," Assandre says as she holds a spoonful of soup near her mouth. "Pookwit will up and quit on your fat ass."
Thomer sighs, nods, then puts the biscuit on his plate and holds up both hands.
If nothing else, the wing's always good for a chuckle. I wave off Thomer's apology, again, as I pick over my own meal. S'not his job: it's Orset's, and we're gonna have a conversation 'bout that later anyway. Thing I like about Thomer is I don't have to wonder if he's shirkin' his duties, so I'm not too worried about this.
"Now, now. Don't make me pull this ship over and separate the two of you's." Least between them, it's friendly-like bickering, so I keep to that tone. I'm lookin' 'round the room, though, tryin' to track down Orset and Colizabel, just to make sure they made it. Far as I know, they shouldn't be on watch or nothin'.
Seems there's always drama in the kitchen. 'Fore Percy, it was a girl called Daisy, though that was just what folks called her on account of her love for them. I can't tell you what her real name was. Anyway, Daisy spent more time hoppin' in and out of bunks than in the kitchen where she was meant to be. I was kinda glad she took that business to where they weren't makin' my dinner, but it sure proved to be unproductive as far as the cookin' went. And 'fore Daisy, it was a quiet chap called Cooper. Ended up hangin' himself one day, and nobody said nothin' if they knew why. Hurstwhite'll come through. Always does.
Thomer starts telling Assandre about the last time Pookwit shat on a bat-rider. It's a good story, you've heard it a few times, but it changes with each telling. Orset isn't here.
I'm cheerin' for Falius, I really am. I like to see the wing happy -- s'not good for nobody to be out here alone. Some of the crew've got a girl or a guy in every port, and that's okay too. I s'pose it's about havin' someone you look forward to seein' -- someone you can talk to without soundin' daft. Guess I'm just a romantic like that.
I try to keep an ear on the story, try to laugh in the right places, but the longer we go without seein' Orset, the more worried I get. I'm wonderin' if she had more drops squirreled away somewhere and if she's layin' down in that engine room still. That place can't be good for a person neither, all dark and hot and damp.
She's got some time to get here before the kitchen's closed and the room's cleared, but it makes me anxious. Orset's a bit unpredictable, sure, but I ain't ever known her to skip a hot meal. And what with all that's goin' on...
What are your main duties on the ship? Does the wing fly patrols around the Longkeel? When the birds are in their next, does the wing just hang out?
I s'pose it's my mother in me wantin' to make sure Orset eats. That's her answer for everything that might be ailin' a person: a rich homecooked meal. I gotta beat back the instinct to run after her and insist she get herself something to eat. They warn you that you turn into your parents, you know -- and, I s'pose I've been doin' a lot of that all day. I know I ain't old enough for that yet, so it must just be the stress.
We got jobs aboard, same as anybody else. The nest needs constant attention -- cleanin', looking after the birds, and so on. We also pull watch duty, though, for us, it ain't so bad. Unless they need us to stand watch on the boat, we run patrols with the birds. It keeps 'em exercised and helps us maintain our bonds with 'em. And there ain't usually nothin' to see, so it's a nice bit of time away from the boat. We're never alone out there, but it's sure better'n being cramped on board. And when we're not working, well, then we've got some time to ourselves.
Colizabel woke up sick this morning as the Longkeel comes to port. You've arrived at the City of the Wind on Pimend. The crew's excited to get off the ship. What do you normally do on furlough, Math? Assandre seems interested in hanging around with you on this trip, is that a normal thing?
I keep tellin' myself we just have to hang in there, just have to see how things turn out this trip. I've let Orset and Colizabel both know I'm available if they need to talk, but I'm tryin' real hard not to smother 'em with attention. Neither of 'em want it, and I know I'm being a nuisance. It's just...this wasn't covered when I took over the wing.
At port, I always head down to the part o' the port set aside for the birds to see what's what. I like seein' the little ones down there, and I like seein' what else folks are selling. I owe Jade something pretty -- the vain thing's already tired o' the last bauble I bought her -- and I always pick up some treats besides. Most of us flyers get along pretty good on the ground -- s'not much to fight about. Course, there's always some that gotta run in packs and try to prove they're better'n the rest of us, but that's just how people are.
I don't usually take Assandre with me specifically, but I ain't particularly opposed to the idea. I usually let the wing go their own way, and if that's with me, then that's fine too.
Honestly, I think I got the job 'cause I was just here longer'n the rest at the time -- at least, longer'n the rest and not crazy. Cecy always liked me, but she didn't leave nothin' behind sayin' what to do in case a batter got lucky. And I don't think Vail trusted Orset after that stunt she pulled Rhen. You know what they're like there -- all prim and proper and takin' themselves way too serious-like. Orset didn't mean nothin' by it, and it was pretty funny to the rest of us. I guess Rhenari don't got much of a sense of humor, though, 'cause they tracked the Longkeel down right quick and told us to pack up and go. It cost us a pretty penny, it did, and most of the officers were steamin' mad with her. All she did was point out that rearranging their national hero's name spells out Vialys so there's no reason to be feuding when they ain't so different'n Khand. Pastin' the flyers all over town, though, might've been a touch too far. But you wanna see something funny? Just make a Rhenari mad -- they don't know if they can punch you without heading into town to file seven forms in triplicate first, and it makes 'em kinda seize up and sputter.
I don't know how Orset felt about bein' over-looked, now that you mention it. We was all kinda upset about losing Cecy, and I sure never expected I'd be able to fill her shoes. I kinda thought my appointment was a temporary thing, and they just never got around to findin' somebody else for stupid enough to take the job, to be honest with ya.