The Winds of Oblivion

[AlphaLuke]

Briny sea fog rolls in off the docks into the Coins in a damp, fetid miasma. The cool fog catches the first rays of pink and golden light as it plays across the morning air. It’s breathtaking.

Absalom, the City at the Center of the World, is slow to stir. Don’t misunderstand my meaning. Plenty of her inhabitants were busy till the morning’s first light, but her true heart only begins to thrum with the rising of the blazing sun. Priests of Sarenrae sing from their minarets in lilting Qadiran tongues, a call to the faithful for morning prayers. Bakers, up for hours, open their shutters to let the morning breeze cool their sweltering kitchens. Fishermen, nursing the curse of the cup, stumble out of public houses and shady brothels, making their meandering way back to their ships.

As the city slowly stretches and rubs the sand out of its eyes, a rare sight sends a ripple of laughter and excited whispering through the districts. An airship has flow into port. In a city where Cyclopses have been known to walk through the marketplace, winged pseudodragons hunt rats as voraciously as cats, and every culture and god has at least one representative, an airship might not be seen as such a strange sight. But, even in Absalom, airships are the exception. The city’s port is glutted with conventional seagoing vessels but bears only a few towers capable of docking aeronautical transportation. What’s more, this ships flies not with the bloated gas-filled balloons of the Alkenstar airships, nor with the fiery rings of some of the Casmaroni geniebound vessels. It floats upon a keel of glowing blue Auran runes. Those runes send scholars in the Arcanamirium into a frenzy when they receive their morning reports. A single word seems to be on everyone’s lips: “Shory”.

The airship, Apparition in Time, shortly has contracts posted with both the Pathfinder Society and the Aspis Consortium.

Looking for Crew
Apparition in Time
Thunderhead Class Airship

In search of untethered souls to ride the winds in search of adventure, treasure, and knowledge. Must have adventuring experience.

In need of:
Deckhands
Shore Party Soldiers
Cartographers/Navigators

All qualified hires will receive a full share, a bunk, and three meals a day. Exceptions will be made for exceptional applicants. Applicants should inquire with Kalinda at the Lost Tome Inn in the Coins District.

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms-As-He-Walks, of no quah in particular, is very, very tired. He is tired because he slept poorly the previous night. He is tired because he exerted himself greatly the previous day.

But mostly, he is tired because eight different people have tried to kill him in the past week, three of whom struck at lunch yesterday.

I need to get out of town for a while, Storms thinks, as he walks through the docks. Spying the ad for the Apparition, he heads to speak to this Kalinda. This might be just the opportunity he was looking for.

[Pent]

"Fired?!" Zephyr asked.
Captain Cramer frowned. "I'm sorry lad. But after that Whale Killer shored our mast and ruptured our hull, the Celeste is on dry dock for the better part of a year. Insurance isn't covering a boat the size of the Celeste, and not all my crew are needed for a smaller ship."
"But the Celeste would have been sunk if I hadn't been there to fend it off!" Zephyr protested as he adjusted his glasses.
"Aye, and I'm grateful. I'll be happy to write a letter of recommendation for you to give to your next captain. You're a good lad, a decent deck hand if you could keep your focus on-"
Zephyr looked up and saw an airship docking at the sky ship towers in the Absalom docks. Those runes! He thought he might recognize them!
"...the task at hand." The Captain finished, shaking his head and smiling at the same time. Same old Zephyr paid more attention to the clouds than the seas.
"Uh, right, I understand, good luck Captain," Zephyr said.

Zephyr made his way toward the airship towers. He passed by the help wanted bulletin boards on the docks. They were always milling with deckhands looking for a contract. Extra crowded right now because of this new addition. Zephyr was imagining what it would be like to sail an airship when he heard a word from the crowd and it stopped him dead in his tracks. It was a word he'd heard frequently. Studied often. His father was the preeminent expert on the subject. But it was never a word he heard on the docks. And the sudden comingling of worlds rooted his feet and mind.
"Shory".
It was just a mumble. Just a little word as part of a thousand conversations, but Zephyr heard it like it was shouted by a giant.
He made his way to the bulletin board and saw the post from the Apparition in Time. People often thought that Zephyr didn't have focus. But he did, when it was something that interested him. And right now Saranrae's revisit to the Inner Sea couldn't distract him for answering the request for deck hands.

Finding the Coins district was easy enough for Zephyr, if Zephyr had one city he called home, it would be Absalom. But he wasn't immediately familiar with the Lost Tome Inn, most times he slept in Absalom was either on a ship in the dock or at the Arcanamirium dorms. Still, a little help from a Constable once in the Coins district led him to the Inn easy enough.

[AlphaLuke]

The Lost Tome is a clean, if modest Inn. The Innkeeper directs Zeph and Storm to tables in the common room, which looks rather full. It would seem that many men and women have seen the add placed by the new airship and have come to interview. Zeph notices that most of the men seem to be your standard adventuring types. Pathfinders mostly, although a few shady looking Aspis Agents keep to their own conversations at the fringes of the room. Storm's mask draws more than one inquisitive glance, but it's not so rare in Absalom that it deserves more. Mwangi warriors occasionally venture north to see the sights of the City of the Gods.

After a few pints, Zeph and Storm are led into a side room with a couple other eager young applicants by one of the bussboys. The side room has a single table covered in papers, schematics, runes, and maps. A bottle of wine sits open on the table alongside a couple of loose quill nibs. All eyes, however, are drawn to the imperious woman standing behind the table. The woman bears the dark skin of a Garundi, but the regal bearing and crisp naval uniform of a Taldan marine. Her sword is drawn and she slices the air to point at a small, inconspicuous candle burning in the corner of the room. "Won't have any liars aboard my ship. If you can't speak your mind under a Zone of Truth, then you should leave now. No hard feelings." Her accent is hard to place, but Zeph places her from somewhere in Taldor. A shifty looking Aspis Consortium agent leaves the room at her opener.

So . . . a magic truth candle, Storms thinks. Smart.

"Alright then. I am Kalinda Waycrest, First Officer of the Apparition in Time. It's the Thunderhead Class airship some of you may have seen in the docks. I'm looking for loyal men and women to replenish some crew we . . . lost, recently. I won't lie to you . . . can't with the candle burning. Our Captain pushes the boundaries of what's safe. We're no merchant vessel. We lose sailors every mission. If you aren't comfortable with the idea of falling for half a mile only to visit the ground in a very violent and very brief meeting, walk out."

Two younger looking lads grow paler by the word. When Kalinda gives them an out, they take it. Only Zeph, Storm, and a weathered looking old salt are still standing before the First Officer.

Kalinda looks the three up and down. She then turns to the old salt.

"We're heading for the Worldwound."

The man's eyes grow wide as dinner plates and he turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

"And then there were two . . . " Kalinda muses. "Tell me about yourselves. Why should I hire you onto my ship? No lying, remember."

[Pent]

Zephyr takes a moment to ponder the question. He recognizes that answering the question should be a priority...but... he vomits out all the questions running through his head in an almost manic state.
"Why are we going to the Worldwound? I don't mind, I've read the first hand reports how the physical world is under constant flux. I have lots of experiments I want to run there! ....I'll need some frogs... I see by your uniform that you're in the esteemed Taldor Marines. Very crisp uniform, by the way. I can tell you take care of it. If you take care of your crew and ship like you do your uniform I think I'll be very happy serving under you! Is the Apparition in Time a Taldor vessel? Does Taldor have airships now? What kinds of missions are you running that you lose sailors every mission? Are you or your Captain looking for input that might lead to less deaths? I'd love to study your mission logs and offer advice. If your Captain bushes the boundaries of what's safe, what motivates you to continue serving? You seem rather disciplined and measured."
Its obvious that Zephyr feels embarrassed by the barrage of questions.
"I'm sorry, that was quite rude of me. I think your truth candle if having an extra effect on me. It's working wonderfully, you should know. To answer your question, there are numerous reasons why you should hire me to join your crew. First..." Zephyr looks around the empty room. "It sounded like you lost more than two crew members, and there's only two of us at this table. You did an exemplary job of weeding out the candidates that wouldn't work, therefore reason dictates that those who remain are the candidates you want. Second you never have to worry about me plunging to my death. Third, I'm a scholar who has a vast amount of experience on expeditions into dangerous territory into the Mwangi territory - no offense lad" Zephyr interrupts himself to nod at the masked man at the table. "Osirian ruins, all sorts of dangerous dungeons in the search of more knowledge. Fourth, I've been working as a deckhand for a merchant on the sea for years, and he said he would write me a letter of recommendation - shoot, I should have gotten it from him before. But lastly..." He paused to phrase this correctly. His cadence is much slower, and his voice deeper. "I've heard rumors of your ship being of Shory origin. I'm the second most preeminent scholar on the subject, and have a particular interest in the people. To not hire me would be stupid, and I can tell you are not a stupid woman." Zephyr motioned for a waitress "Water, please?" he asked her.

"Oh," he chuckled at his absent mindedness. "My name is Zephyr Leornian, pleased to meet you."

[DeathbyFlossing]

The Shoanti shrugs, speaking with a voice so deep and gravely it makes one’s chest vibrate.

“I have a very large hammer, and I hit things very hard with it. I have a cat who is very good at tracking. Also mauling things, but mostly tracking. I practice a magic very rare in the world, one not seen since the days of the Angazat. And as the excitable one said, we were the only ones who stayed when the risks were laid out. If this is not enough to satisfy you, then I will go. I have no name, but you can call me Storms-As-He-Walks.”

[AlphaLuke]

Kalinda seems amused by Zeph's unbridled curiosity and enthusiasm. She tries to answer each of his questions but is immediately cut off by his next one. Finally, when he stops and introduces himself, she shakes his hand. She has a firm grip.

When Storm speaks through his mask, Kalinda listens carefully. He notices that despite him showing now outward signs of hostility, she keeps her hand on the hilt of her sword. A lion roars from outside the building, where Storm left him to sit obediently.

"You two men look to be of the right sort. Strange, for sure, but I think you'll find that the norm aboard the ship."

"Mr. Leornian, to answer your questions in order: We are going to the Worldwound because that is where our next mission lies. You will need to procure your own frogs. Apparition in Time is a free vessel, not owned by the Crown of Taldor. You are correct in your observation, however. I call Oparra home and served the Crown before signing on with the Apparition in Time. Taldor has a modest flight of airships, but they are not of the same design as the Apparition in Time. We run dangerous missions. The Captain and I would welcome any council or advice you might have, but please ensure that it runs up the proper chain of command. You may not have access to previous mission logs unless you have the express leave of the Captain. The crew and myself serve because what we do is important. We all know the risks. I have heard of your father. He's a good man. If you're half the man he is, we'll be happy to have you aboard. "

"Mr. Storms-As-He-Walks, I would ask that you secure the appropriate provisions for your companion. We keep mostly non-perishables aboard the ship, and I doubt we will have the meat your lion will require. Additionally, I trust that he is well trained enough to not attack any of your fellow crewmates. The Captain isn't terribly fond of animals and the inverse is often the case. You will be responsible for the actions of your pet. As far as your magic, I an unfamiliar with Angazat, but I trust he has no relation to Angazhan. We'll have no Demon worshiping aboard the Apparition in Time. Is that clear?"

"If you're ready to move, I'll walk you to the Apparition in Time. There you can get yourselves settled and meet the Captain and the rest of your crew."

Spoiler

Show

Storms, can you please link your character sheet in your signature? Additionally, can you remember to describe not only what you are doing, but where your animal companion is in your posts? Finally, do you have a character portrait?

[Pent]

"We're hired?!" Zephyr's glasses almost popped off his head. "WE'RE HIRED!" Zephyr's leap of joy was so high he hit his head on the ceiling.
He pestered the poor first officer with more questions.
"What's the Apparition's altitude ceiling? Maximum wind velocity? Rate of ascent? Descent? Do we need more crew? Will you let me know if my questions are too annoying? Did he say he has a lion? Do lions like airships?"

[AlphaLuke]

Kalinda smiles and shakes her head without answering the eager mage's questions. "Those are questions for our chief engineer. You're going to get along famously with old Throki. He hasn't had a scholar to talk to about this stuff in ages."

After agreement from everyone, the First Officer begins the walk toward the Docks.

Along the way, she calls out to several people in the street. She waves greetings to some and shouts half-hearted insults at others. Some, she calls to follow.

"Alessia! C'mon! You can do more shopping later. We need to get these last two crew aboard before the Captain gets too antsy." The Catfolk woman moves away from the market stall she was examining and begins to follow the group. She makes sure to pocket the amulet she was holding so the shopkeep can't see it, but makes no attempt to hide the lift from her crewmates. She bends toward Storms' lion and scritches behind his ears. The two seem to get along quite well.

Kalinda makes a short stop at a local tavern and a few moments later a stumbling, hiccuping strigine man is pushed through the swinging half-doors to the street. " . . . damned fine mate, Archelos, you'd be out on your ear by now, you hear? I swear to Abadar, I leave you alone for five minutes and you've already found yourself to the bottom of two bottles and racked up half a dozen debts. Now get yourself together and let's get a move on."

As the motley crew makes their way closer to the docks, they steer away from the more conventional shipping births and make their way toward a tall and impossibly thin tower. Docked atop is the magnificent ship, the Apparition in time. They step aboard a small platform slotted into a rail on the side of the tower and Kalinda pulls a gem-encrusted level. In a second, the platform begins a steady climb up the side of the tower. When they are partway up the tower, Zeph notices a squat man suspended by ropes and working on the underside of the vessel. Blue sparks emanate from some tool in his hand as he replaces boards and attaches metaling panels. Kalinda calls out to the man. "Throki! I have a greenhorn who wants to talk schematics with you!" The dwarf turns and his eyes light up as he sees the group.

"Sir? Wonderful! Wonderful. Just as soon as I fix this keel and shore up some of the secondary lines. I'll be right up to talk."

[Pent]

Zephyr has half a mind to fly off the lift and talk to Throki, but he needs to follow the orders of his new boss. And...and he's itching to see the airship up close!

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms is rather intrigued by how... diverse the crew of this ship is. He also makes a mental note to explain the role of the Angazat in Shoanti history, because he really had to bite his tongue when Miss Weycrest casually compared them to Angazahn; his time in the Mwangi Expanse had left him with a bitter hatred of the monstrous ape-demon.

[AlphaLuke]

The platform finally reaches the top and the newly hired crewmen are led aboard the Apparition in Time by Kalinda. The ship is magnificent. The two men couldn’t really grasp the size of the vessel from the ground, but it easily holds several dozen crewmen, two full broadsides of cannon, and a significant amount of cargo. Its powerful and unique design draws Zeph into near thunderstruck wonder.

Alessia, the Catfolk woman, and Archelos, the drunken Syrinx, make their way into the hold of the ship.

Several human, half-elf, and elf deckhands, regular men and women of obvious seagoing experience, tack lines, swab the deck, carry freight, and generally make themselves busy. Several nod or salute Kalinda, some even adding a respectful “Sir”.

A few standout crewmen walk up to Kalinda and her party. The first is an imposingly tall human man with hair that looks grey before its time. Even without armor or weapon, Storms can smell what this man is, and it boils his blood: Hellknight. The way he walks, the way he looks at Storms and Zeph. He exudes the stench of Hellknight. Scar-Eye’s hackles rise, and a low rumbling growl radiates from the lion. The man seems to take no notice. He salutes Kalinda in greeting. She returns the gesture.

“Mr. Mournholdt, how go the repairs and re-supply?”

“Almost done, Sir. Throki should have her back to fighting form in a few hours. The provisions you requested are already in the hold. Master Gent is already complaining about the new deckhands ruining his ‘system’.” He rolls his eyes when he says the word ‘system’.

Kalinda nods in approval, then turns to the rest of the group, “Men, this is Lictor Cassius Mournholdt. He’s the Master of Arms aboard the Apparition in Time. If you have need of arms or armament, he’s the one to go to. Mr. Mournholdt, this is Zephyr Leornian and Storms-As-He-Walks. That,” she motions to the lion, “is Scar-Eye. He’s the responsibility of Mr. Walks.”

Zeph can’t help piping up in question before the Master of Arms even has a chance to respond, “Lictor!? Isn’t that the highest rank in a Hellknight Order? Why are you aboard a ship instead of in your Order’s stronghold? Where’s you armor? What is your order? Do you –“

Mournholdt cuts off Zeph with a curt word and stern scowl. “MISTER Leornian. I earned the rank of Lictor due to battlefield promotion.” When Zeph doesn’t seem to grasp this, he continues, “When a commanding officer dies, the next highest rank assumes the command, and so on and so forth. I am of the Order of the Vice.” He nods to the men in a quick and clipped motion and moves to turn and walk away, but Zeph can’t help it.

“But . . . there is no Order of the Vice . . .”

The Master of Arms half turns his head back to the group. “There is one. I went from rank-and-file Hellknight to Lictor in a single night.” He returns to walking, moving to inspect the cannon.

A tanned human man with a nervous expression approaches Kalinda almost immediately, like he was patiently and fearfully waiting for her to be done with Mournholdt. He bears several dozen bottles on him, either tied to leather thongs and jingling around his waist like a belt of wind chimes or on a small tray he carries carefully and with perfect balance.

“S-sir? I . . . I just can’t . . . we need more Marrowroot. And I barely have enough Angelstep and Leechwort left to last this season. We used all my Bone Reed during that last engagement and I’m precariously low on Aether Paste. Please, sir, there must be something . . . I mean . . . if I were just properly supplied . . .”

Kalinda holds up her hand and the man immediately clams up, “I’m sorry Mr. al-Aruni, but you’ll just have to make do. We were able to acquisition much of what you asked for, but your list was three feet long.” She raises her eyebrows in a slight gesture of reproof. “We are never going to have everything you say you need.”

“I dooo need it! B-but if I could just get . . . you see the Worldwound . . . it’s just so dangerous!”

Kalinda shakes her head before waving her hand at the man, “Gentlemen, this is Mr. Abu Mutaa Adeeq al-Aruni of Thuvia. He’s the ship’s medic and chemist. He’ll patch you up when you get wounded, just never expect him to be happy about it.”

The nervous man makes a quick and jerky bow toward the two new crewmen but dons a genuine smile. “N-nice to meet you. Most people just call me Abu, or “Doc”. P-please report to the medical bay for your pre-flight examinations after you’ve gotten yourselves situated. Can’t have you bringing any pathogens on board, now can we?” He looks pointedly at Scar-Eye, “or animal born illnesses heretofore undiscovered.”

After several more unsuccessful attempts to convince Kalinda to procure more supplies, the medic walks away disappointed and dejected. The First Officer then leads her new crewmen and lion belowdecks to the crew’s sleeping quarters. The space is cramped with hammocks and footlockers taking up every square inch of space, but at least its well-lit, with a glowing white prism affixed to the deck overhead. She shows the men their hammocks and footlockers. She’s about to leave when a massive golem of a man blocks the doorway. He wears a ruinous scowl and fingers a knife as long as Zeph’s forearm. His mustache is nearly a foot wide and his arms are tree trunks covered in tattoos, burn scars, and coarse hair. Zeph and Storm almost draw their weapons, but Kalinda seems unintimidated.

“They’re ruining my system, Sir.” The low rumble of the man’s voice sounds like thunder and could shake dust and rubble off a stone wall. He doesn’t shout, only speaking in a low and dangerous growl. “They put the bloody barley next to the bloody pickles. Now I don’t have to explain to you how extremely slag-headed that is, Sir. My hold is an absolute travesty, Sir. A travesty! A mockery of perfection, it is! And now I have to do a complete inventory of the larder and the hold, I do. Weeks of careful order, dashed in a bloody instant. And -” It’s at this time that the bear of a man seems to notice that he and his First Officer are not alone. Kalinda capitalizes on the silence.

“Mr. Gent, these are our last two new crewmen, Misters Zephyr Leornian and Storms-As-He-Walks, as well as the later’s lion. Gentlemen, this is Mister Gregor Gent, ship’s Cook and Quartermaster. If you need supplies, you ask him.” Kalinda looks at the man, easily thrice her size, and raises a single dark eyebrow in challenge.

The Cook blows out a great sigh of exasperation that sends his mustache fluttering. He then sheathes his knife in his belt and walks over to the two men with a massive smile and outstretched hand. He eagerly shakes both men’s hands. They’re not quite crushed in his grip. “Pleasure to meet you lads, a real right pleasure, it is!” His voice is still as deep as a mine shaft, but now it’s filled with warmth and a jovial timbre. “Happy to have you aboard the old Ghost, it is. You three make sure you ask me if you are needing anything, hear? Always happy to help new family find their bearings.” He turns to his First Officer and offers the crispest salute Zeph and Storm have seen yet. “Sir.” Kalinda returns the salute and the Cook moves further into the ship, presumably towards the galley.

“You’ll have to excuse Mr. Gent. He’s extremely passionate about his work and it occasionally gets the better of him.” Kalinda says. “You two may get settled here. At three bells the Captain will address the crew and we’ll get underway. After that, you’ll get your crew assignments from Alessia. You met her earlier in the Market. If you have any questions, feel free to ask any of the officers and they’ll make sure to point you in the right direction.” With a quick nod, she turns and head back up to the main deck.

[Pent]

Zephyr's eyes are about as wide as the lenses of his glasses as he takes it all in. He blinks a few times and starts to store his gear away in his footlocker.

"Storm?" Zephyr asks in a quiet, calm voice hereto unused today. "Can you tell me why you and Scar-Eye reacted like that to the Hell Knight?"

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms doesn’t mean to snap, but wasn’t expecting to run into a Hellknight, and before he can stop himself it all comes pouring out. He turns to Zephyr and says, in a manic, clipped tone;


”Imagine the worst of all possible social orders, where the right of the strong to stamp upon the faces of the weak is enshrined in law, bureaucratic corruption is total and absolute, and honest bureaucrats don’t just get hedged out, they don’t exist, because honesty and virtue have been replaced with tyranny oppression, and it will never get better,
can never get better, because it isn’t just a tyrannical, oppressive society, it is the very archetype from which the concepts of tyranny and oppression spring.

That is what Hell is. And that is the ideal society that the Hellknights seek to emulate. They will tell you they are devoted to order above all else. They lie. Oh, I’m sure some of them buy it; dupes are always useful. But never forget that the Hellknights consider Hell the ideal society. And it is Hell’s ideals they strive to emulate. Never forget.”

He pauses, let’s put a shuddering breath, and continues “The Hellknight order of the Pyre has harassed the Shoanti since their inception, considering our spiritual practices nothing more than blasphemy, no better than demon worship. The Order of the Chain has dragged thousands of innocent people to their doom for no greater crime than trying to escape a life of slavery. The Order of the Gate have killed thousands of sorcerers they deemed ‘too disordered’ to be worthy of magic.
The Order of the Godclaw have butchered, revolutionaries, freedom fighters, and even simple entertainers whom they deemed guilty of spreading anarchy.”

Through gritted teeth, he growls “I will, grudgingly, admit that there are a couple of minor Hellknight orders that do some good in the world, chiefly the the Torrent, who rescue the abducted, including slaves, oddly enough, and the Wall, who focus on defense of civilization, which usually boils down to ‘fend off orc and bandit raids’. Wether I can work with this particular knight will depend on how tolerable the tenets of this ‘Order of the Vice’ are. So , if you will excuse me, it would be prudent to find out if I can work with the man before we leave, so I’m going to go track him down. Besides, I need to pick up some meat for Scar-Eye.”

And with that, he nodded at Zephyr and turned to leave the hold in search of the Lictor.

[AlphaLuke]

Storms-As-He-Walks lives up to his name. Crew seems to part in front of him like surf off the bow of a ship and Scar-Eye prowls in his wake. He finds the Lictor on the gundeck dressing down a skinny, frightened looking boy.

"-and if I catch you one more time, I'll flay you myself and use your hide as a sail patch! You hear me, son?!"

The boy shakily nods before saluting and running away.

Mournholdt turns to face the Storms and Scar without fear. "I thought you might come to have a chat. Shoanti, right? Or is it Mwangi. Can't hardly tell with that mask. What can I do for you, crewman?"

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms gets right to the point.”I have never heard of the Order of the Vice. What are it’s goals? It’s tenets?”

[AlphaLuke]

The Lictor is silent and stone-faced for a long minute. Then, very quietly but very pointedly he speaks.

"You have never heard of the Order of the Vice because fifty years ago it was wiped off the face of Golarion. Citadel Darvhage was our stronghold. My brothers and sisters numbered in the hundreds. We were devoted to assessing and combating the threat of the Great Beyond. The darkness between the stars. We were arrogant. We did not, could not comprehend that while we were looking at the Great Beyond, it was looking back. In a single night, our Citadel was brought to ruin. Rubble and ash and blood. I alone survived because I was studying . . . another path." He pauses for a moment.

"When we were whole, we followed the Measure and the Chain, just as all Hellknights must. We also held the following tenets:

• I will watch the skies, that I might see wickedness before it falls upon the unprepared.
• I will be a vice that closes the gaps of reality, sealing the cracks of space before they shatter the world.
• I will be unimpeachable in my devotion to the Material realm. No being of the Great Beyond shall threaten the world I seek to create.
• My mind is a fortress. Impregnable and sovereign. When a fortress is captured by the enemy, it must be burned to the ground.
• Cults of the Great Beyond must be excised like a gangrenous wound to prevent the decay of society. No trace of the infection may be left to fester.
• The beings between the stars are treacherous and sly. I will be every wary of their tendrils invading the hearts of men."

He recites them all like they're written on the backs of his eyelids. Like he's said them a thousand times.

"And now that I am the last member of my Order, I, as Lictor, have added another tenet: I will avenge the victims of the Great Beyond. I will not have them think our realm weak, that they may strike us with impunity."

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms is silent for a good minute then two. His mind raced, trying to calculate the odds, but in the end, he decided to come clean.

“Let me tell you a story.
Once there was a foolish Shoanti boy whose name has been forgotten. His father was a war-leader of Lyrune-Quah, the most proud and noble of the Shoanti tribes; his mother was a Vudrani sorceress who came to Shoanti land seeking lost knowledge, and never left. She was a skin-shifter, a fanglord; the blood of weretigers ran in her veins, and her son inherited that blood.

When the boy was twelve, he underwent his tribe’s rite of passage, the Black Walk. On a moonless night he journeyed through an unlighted cave complex. It was there that he had his first vision of his ancestor, the Azghat known as Alazni, whose wrath shook the heavens and crumbled mountains. And he had a vision that he would bring ruin on his clan, a vision that came true two years later.

There was a ruin under a hill near his village that he had always been told never to go near. It was evil, his mother had told him. One day the foolish boy did not listen, and went to explore the ruin. He did not remember much of what happened within, only that he awoke hours maybe days later, in the smoldering ruins of all he had known.

Fearing he had released a demon, he fled. The cowardly boy tried very hard not to think about the fact that it was his fault everyone he knew and loved was dead- he simply ran; for five years, he ran, across Avisan and beyond. And the thing he freed gave chase.

He had many encounters with the wretched villains called the Hellknights, and learned to hate them even more than most Shoanti; he learned he posessed an ancient magic not seen in the world in time immemorial.

And he learned that the monster he had freed had come from beyond the stars.

It was in the Mwangi Expanse, at the very school of magic founded by Old-Mage Jatembe, that the weary boy learned a magic that could hide him from his pursuer. He crafted a mask of wood, woven with spells, and as he put it on he renounced his name. Now the boy is no more. There is only Storms-As-He-Walks.”

Storms is silent for a moment, wondering how to phrase what’s going through his head, then continues,“I do not like the Hellknights as a general rule; Hell is quite literally the worst possible society, the archetype from which concepts like tyranny and oppression derive, and the fact that they hold it as an ideal to strive towards has always seemed to me to be like holding up Norgerber as the icon of honorable conduct.

But you strike me as one of the rare Hellknights whose pointed himself in the right direction. It appears we share a common interest. I support your goal, Lictor. It is one very close to my heart. Perhaps I could interest you in a friendly spar after we launch?”

[AlphaLuke]

Mournholdt listens with stoic curiosity and focus.

He gives nothing away. No nods, no blinks, and no sounds of affirmation. When Storms asks for a friendly spar, a smile whispers past the corner of the man's lips. All he says is, "Perhaps."

He then nods and turns back to his cannon, effectively ending the interaction.

[Pent]

Zephyr had followed behind Storms up to the main deck. No to spy, but to get to the safety rigging to go meet Throki. While he was rigging up he had heard the bass-only conversation between the Hellknight and the masked man.

He considered flying down on his own power to talk to Throki, but it seemed premature without having met the captain, and unnecessary. There was after all, safety rigging.

Zephyr took the time to make sure he was wearing it properly, and all knots were secured. Time on ships as a deckhand had taught him how to secure a good knot. He stood atop the deck rail. He saw the birds overhead and smiled. He jumped.

After he jumped he realized this was not at all the intended use of the safety rigging. after a sudden jolt at the bottom of the rope, he felt why.

Still, he laughed like a boy.

"Hi!" he said through his laughs to Throki. "I'm Zephyr! This is a beautiful ship you maintain!"

[AlphaLuke]

Zeph sees the engineer hanging under the ship with his ruddy hair and beard. He has some kind of monocle device on his head, using it to look at several Auran runes which glow far less brightly than others on the underbelly of the ship. His right hand is covered in some kind of glove or prosthesis. A brass mechanical hand with a blue electric apparatus. The hand seems to bear several inbuilt tools and gears to allow it a greater rnage of motion than would otherwise be possible. The dwarf engineer stares at Zeph, mouth half agape, "By my beard, son, you'll break your neck if you try that stunt again! These harnesses are designed to hold your weight, not arrest your fall." He stares at Zeph for another second before a smile breaks his scowl. "Still, if was a damned funny thing to see. I wonder if you could rig a cascaded pulley to bounce . . . Ah never mind. Pleasure to meet you, Zephyr! Throki Ironblood at your service. And old Ap is more than just a ship. She's my one and only love. I patch her up best I can. You look like you have some skill, mind handing me that resonator? It's the last piece I need to set up the series." He points to a netting bag hanging near Zeph bearing several blue glowing crystals.

[Pent]

Zeph grabs a crystal out of the bag.

"Fascinating!" Zephyr says as he flicks down his own glasses and examines the crystal. He flicks his glasses back up and passes it to Throki. "Sorry. Can you tell me how this all works? What makes her fly? Do you know who made her?"

As Zephyr asks his questions he examines the runes, trying to see if he can make sense of them.

[AlphaLuke]

Spoiler

Show

Zeph, feel free to make a Linguistics check to decipher some of the runes (you get a bonus of +4 is you speak Auran). You may also feel it helpful to cast Detect Magic to examine the craft's underbelly. A Spellcraft check will tell you more after you cast that cantrip.

Throki accepts the crystal thankfully. "What makes her fly is a right complicated question, lad. It's the essence my whole job. Suffice to say it's an interaction between the keel and the earth below." The engineer begins to use the crystal to infuse the runes with more light, gradually draining power from one and suffusing the other. As he works, he talks, "My forefathers used to tell a story about the Dwarves and the Quest for Sky. They spoke of passing through vast caverns of iron where loadstones the size of houses could float in midair. The force was called magnetism, and it was different from magic. Some folk on the surface noticed this force and used it to craft things like Wayfinders and compasses, as it extended far beyond the surface of the world. Some took it a step further and infused vessels with powerful magic to amplify and direct the force, sending their crafts into the sky. The Shory perfected this magic, mixing it with Aeromancy and focusing it into a usable technology. They lifted their cities with it. They built their ships. Ap, s'far as I can tell, is built using that same tech. Dunno if the Shory actually built her, but she's based on Shory work for sure. I'd bet my beard on it. I presume the Captain might know her provenance, but if he does he isn't sharing. Maybe he'll tell me one day. Haven't been working on her that long. Only been aboard for eighty years."

With a final twist of his crystalline tool and a thrumming vibration that runs through the entire hull, Throki finishes his work. The whole keel lights up with dozens of large, Auran runes. Upon inspection, Zeph can see thousands upon thousands of tinier runes are carved into the underside of the main hull. Every board and plank bears at least a dozen runes no bigger than his thumbnail.

[Pent]

Zeph stares at the tiny rune, and tries to sense the magic in them.
He flips down his glasses to get a magnified look at the tiny things.

Spoiler

Show

Zeph casts detect magic
Linguistics check = (1d20+12)[22]
Spellcraft check = (1d20+11)[27]

"If these are on every plank, then after we take a cannonball through the hull, do you have to inscribe the rune on every new pla- wait did you say eight-EE years?! And you've been serving under the same Captain all this time? And he still won't tell you the origins of the ship?!"

[AlphaLuke]

Zeph's eyes flash as he casts his spell. The entire ship is alight with magic, although the spells woven into the hull shine brightest to his eyes. He sees spells of levitation, obviously, but also spells of strength and protection. His spell allows him to see the complex web of magic interconnecting the runes in a massive geometric pattern. It would seem that the runes form a lattice, where redundant pathways are set up to compensate for any damage the hull might take.

"It's true that the damaged hull needs to re-inscribed, but she'll fly without. At least well enough to get us to port where I can do proper repairs. And the aegis should protect the hull from most standard weapons. If a shot tears through hull, we've got a bigger problem than me needing to inscribe new runes."

"Aegis", Zeph thinks, "That must be the protection magic I'm seeing. Something like a shield to absorb impact and redistribute the force over a larger area."

When Zeph shows his incredulous response to Throki's years of service, the dwarf just smiles and shakes his head. "Humans. So short sighted. Eighty years is a short time to a dwarf, lad. The Captain keeps his own council. S'not my place to argue with the man. He hasn't steered me wrong yet, and I'll trust him till he does. One day, he'll tell me when I need to know. Till then, I keep her flying with what I do know just fine."

[Pent]

"The Captain sounds like a fine leader to have earned your continued service for 8 decades. I'm excited to meet him. Is there anything I need to know? Other than the obvious rules aboard any vessel, extra or peculiar rules I need to be aware of before we get underway?"

[AlphaLuke]

Throki wipes the sweat out of his eyes and begins to ascend his harness back up to the deck.

"S'long as you follow orders and keep yourself useful, you should fare alright, lad. The Captain may be an intimidating man at first, but he knows what's right. Follow his orders on the first call. There isn't often time to make a second. The crew's mostly good folk. They take care of each other. We're awful alone up in the sky, so you have to be able to trust your family. Don't cheat or steal. Should go without saying." He reaches the gunwale and hoists himself up before turning to Zeph with a sober face.

"Oh, and don't go in the engine room."

[Pent]

Zeph smiled. "But that's your rule, not the Captains, right? Can I ask why I'm persona non-grata in the engine room?"

[AlphaLuke]

Zeph expects another easy smile from Throki, but recieves none.

"Not my rule. Ship rule. Ap flies just fine without having to mess with her core. Only the Captain has a key. I've never had to go in. No one has to go in. Don't go in the engine room."

[Pent]

"Oh, uh... understood. Will stay out of the engine room. Thanks for the heads up. How else can I help while I'm down here?"