by Troy Osgood
Brandiff made it look easy. His leaps and stabs were almost elegant. Hall felt clumsy.
And embarrassed.
The number of people watching didn’t make it any easier. He had expected a couple quick words from Brandiff and to receive the Ability. He had not expected to actually have to train to learn it.
“Wasn’t as bad that last one,” Brandiff said in way of encouragement. “Hold your back more rigid. Now try it again.”
Grunting, trying to ignore the audience, Hall set his feet and activated the Leap ability. He jumped into the air, aiming to land equal distance on the opposite side of the hay dummy that had been set up in the center of the ring. At the height of his arc, holding his back rigid, he stabbed down with his spear, catching the dummy in the shoulder. He pulled the spear back, keeping his body in the same position, and landed on the other side. He did a quick side step and rotated to face the dummy stabbing out with the spear again. The second blow landed.
QUEST COMPLETE!
You have learned your new class Ability, Leaping Stab Rank I
Leaping Stab Rank 1
Grants the Skirmisher an attack while in mid-leap. This attack has a bonus of 1D4 to adjusted weapon damage. Target's Protection is lowered by -2 for Damage calculation from the attack. The Skirmisher still gets the attack of opportunity from the Leap.
THE FIRST TRAINER II
Reward: +20 Experience
Hall smiled.
“Good job,” Brandiff said, walking over and clapping him hard on the shoulder. “Excellent form. Now do it again.”
Hall groaned.
“You’ve got the makings of a pretty good Skirmisher,” Brandiff said an hour later as they made their way out of the sparring ring.
The spectators had all dispersed once Hall had gotten the forms down. The fun part, watching Hall fail over and over, was done, and they had other things to do. That had left Roxhard, Sabine, Leigh, and Garick behind. Angus had found a patch of green grass and settled down to eat. Pike had flown off long before looking for a few mice.
“Thank you,” Hall said and meant it.
In just the few hours they had been training, Hall had come to realize how skilled Brandiff really was. The man was gruff, blunt, but knew his stuff.
“You come back in a couple levels and see me again,” Brandiff said with a chuckle. “But I have a feeling it won’t be long before you outlevel me.”
At the steps leading to the door back into the Guildhall, the two men clasped hands in the warrior’s way, forearm to forearm.
“Good luck in your adventures,” Brandiff said as they walked up the steps.
“Roxhard, when you need training, come and find me,” Garick said.
The Dwarf turned and waved, a movement that Garick returned a tad confused. It had not been the wave of a battle-hardened, decades-old Dwarven Warden, but the wave of the fourteen-year-old boy.
They walked through the still empty indoor sparring ring. Hall wondered where the other spectators had disappeared to. He thought he could hear footsteps in the floor above. It seemed the Guildhall still provided cheap lodging to member. They walked out the main doors, the same two guards on duty, and down onto the cobblestone street.
“The docks are this way,” Hall said, pointing to his left.
“Think we’ll still be able to catch a flight,” Sabine asked, looking up into the sky. The sun was setting. “It’s late.”
“If not, we can book an early passage,” Hall said leading the way. “I hope we can catch one, I’d rather not pay for another night’s lodging.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Land’s Edge Port docks were a chaotic place. Lots of people, all the races. Lots of noise and motion, people moving all over the place with no pattern, horse drawn wagons moving all over the place with no pattern. A long and open strip, the buildings stopping at the ends and the side, the edge of the island forming the other border. Wooden docks stood off from the edge, extending out into the air with nothing below them. Supports ran down to the rock of the island below, the planks of the docks flexing in the wind and with the weight.
There were half a dozen docks, each as wide as two wagons and as long as two airships. Not all berths were filled. The port could handle up to two dozen airships. Most of the buildings along the port’s edge were large warehouses with taverns spaced between. There were a couple of Inns that catered to sailors exclusively and one building that Hall thought looked like a brothel.
They made their way through the crowd, pushing and excusing themselves. Angus received many odd looks, people cursing the cow who didn’t bother being polite as he pushed his way through, stomping on feet as he passed. The Portmaster’s building was a one-story structure set in between the two middle docks. Not large. It didn’t need to be. It still was a dominant structure. Vertical wood plank walls, a couple of windows, and a sloped roof with green shingles. Smoke drifted up from the stone chimney. The door was open as they approached.
An office made up the front room, two other doors leading to other offices. A single desk sat in the middle, chairs on either side wall, a set of stairs leading to a second-floor loft, which was set over the two back offices. A railing ran along the edge of the loft, and they could see two men standing on a balcony that overlooked the docks. They had telescopes mounted to the railing. Two guards in Essec colors stood on either side of the door, a single man at the desk. He had a large ledger book open in front of him, piles of paper on either side and a small stack of coins he was currently counting.
Hall was not sure what to expect. Previously the Player had needed permission from the Portmaster before being able to board an airship for the first time. There had been several docked at Land’s Edge Port, each with a set destination.
Looking up from the ledger, the man behind the desk motioned them to step closer.
“Coming or going?” he asked. A thin man, the top of his head bald with a ring of gray hair. Clean shaven, he had a sharp nose that held up a pair of glasses.
“Going,” Hall answered.
“Just passengers or with cargo?”
“Passengers.”
“With livestock,” the Portmaster corrected, pointing at Angus.
“Just the one,” Hall clarified.
The Portmaster grunted, not caring. “Destination?”
“Edin.”
The man looked down at the ledger, running his finger over some lines, turning a page.
“All the Passenger Ships are currently out but you’re in luck. A light cargo ship, The Twisted Gale is leaving for Auld on Edin in an hour from Berth Three.”
“Thank you,” Hall said and turned to leave.
The Portmaster cleared his throat. Hall turned back, and the man tapped the small pile of coins in front of him.
“3 silver each plus 1 for the cow.”
“Is that for passage?” Hall asked, genuinely confused. The fee had usually been paid to a sailor stationed at the bottom of each ship’s gangplank and would need to be paid before the Player could board and wait for the ship to leave.
“Customs,” the Portmaster replied, annoyed. Again, he tapped the desk. “Passage will need to be negotiated with the ship’s captain.”
“And if we can’t negotiate a price?” Hall asked as he set down the requested coin.
“Guess you’ll have to come back tomorrow and try again,” the Portmaster replied, taking the money and adding it to the pile.
“And pay the customs fee again,” Hall muttered.
The Portmaster shrugged and returned to his book.
Grumbling, Hall led the others back outside and turned toward the last dock at the far end, which contained the first four berths. They could see that only one ship was there currently.
The Twisted Gale was a Gael vessel, designed and built in Spirehold.
Four large propellers set off from the hull, mounted horizontally to provide uplift, at the four corners. The ship itself was long and lean, built more for speed and less for c
argo. It had a raised forecastle and two raised decks in the aft where the two steam engines were mounted. It looked well maintained and cared for. A wide gangplank, twenty feet long, hung from where the ship floated and connected to the dock. Lines went from the ship to cleats on the dock, the propellers adjusted to provide just enough lift to keep the ship in position. It drifted five feet higher than the dock.
“Hello the ship,” Hall called from the dock.
There had been no one stationed there, the dock itself empty of anyone. Four large wooden cranes set aside each airship berth.
A sailor appeared at the top of the gangplank, looking down at them.
“What?” he called down, his accent hard to place.
“We seek passage.”
The sailor studied them, measuring, eyes lingering on Sabine and Leigh before raising in surprise at Angus. Pike had returned as they had walked out onto the dock, landing and settling on Hall’s shoulder, getting another raised eyebrow.
“Wait here,” the man said finally. He turned and disappeared.
It was another minute or two before a second man appeared. He studied the group from the deck without saying anything before making a decision. He walked down the gangplank, and Hall stepped aside so the man could step onto the dock. Wearing black pants and boots polished to a shine, a sleeveless leather vest over white shirt and red sash belt with a scimitar through it, the man had to be the ship’s Captain. He had long black hair tied in a tail, neatly trimmed beard, dark eyes and the pale Gael skin. Dark blue tattoos could be seen on the exposed skin of his arms. His eyes focused on Sabine and stayed there until he was in front of Hall, identifying him as the leader.
“Captain Hart,” he said by way of greeting. “The Gale is my ship. I fly with an experienced crew. They are all level four to six, and I, myself, am a level eight Sailor. I hear you are looking for passage?”
“To Edin,” Hall answered. “The four of us, the dragonhawk, and the cow.”
Hart looked down at Angus and smiled.
“10 silver each plus 5 for the cow. A cabin you all can share and two meals a day,” he said quickly without thinking. The price seemed fair to Hall, who nodded. “You feed the animals from your own meals, and you clean up after them.”
“Agreed,” Hall said and held out his hand.
The Captain clasped it, giving a firm up and down shake. The deal was sealed.
“Come on and get yourself settled in then,” Hart said and motioned toward the gangplank. “We set off in thirty. Welcome aboard the Twisted Gale.”
Hall stood at the starboard rail, watching the buildings of Land’s Edge Port shrink as the airship lifted off. The deck vibrated with the spinning of the four propellers, shaking as the engines in the rear ignited. Smoke could be seen drifting up from the aft, a great rumble building and sliding through the ship’s hull. He could feel it beneath his feet and where his hands gripped the rail.
The wind picked up, the ship pushing against it. Sailors moved about the deck, stowing lines and tying things down. Hart stood at the highest point in the rear, next to the helmsman.
The Gale was facing north and turned to the east as it rose higher. The engine room kept the engines low, barely any forward thrust, just enough to keep the ship turning. It banked and came about, sailing over Land’s Edge Port and the Far Edge Peaks where a couple days earlier Hall and friends had been treasure hunting.
He looked down at the mountains, trying to see if he could find the ledge and the cave, but they were too high and cutting an angle that didn’t bring them over that part of the range. The rumbling of the engines grew as they increased in power, and the wind started to buffet Hall even harder as the ship picked up speed.
Captain Hart had said the trip from Land’s Edge Port to Auld on Edin was four days because the winds were against them. It could be more if they encountered trouble.
In the previous version of the game, Hall had to start thinking of this as a new version, encounters on airships had been random. Most trips only took a couple minutes but sometimes there would be a pirate or roc attack or some other kind of winged monster. Some players did nothing but sail on airships all day waiting for the random encounters as the loot, which was rare and random, could be excellent. With no interruptions the longest airship ride had been twenty minutes, not four days. The distance from Cumberland to Edin was not great. Hall wondered how many days it could take to get to the Realms that were farther away.
It was a slow trip, the Captain had told them as he gave them a brief tour of the ship, or at least the parts he was allowing them access to, because of going against the wind and upward to the higher island. Even though they were technically farther away, the other islands that made up Essec were on relatively the same level so they were able to get there a little quicker.
Hart had been loud, grandiose as he bragged about his ship. Smiling the whole time, wide arm gestures, it was obvious he was showboating. And flirting. With both Leigh and Sabine, but especially Sabine. It seemed he had taken a liking to the blond-haired Witch.
She appeared flattered at first but kept her distance, putting up a cold wall the more Hart pressed, which kept him pressing harder. There was no response, nothing to show that his flirtations were accepted, but nothing to show they were unwelcomed either. Sabine just didn’t respond. Hall remembered her comments about the time from when they had met the first day in the Laughing Horse Inn until meeting again at River’s Side. She had not said much at all, just that it was not a good experience, and she had been with some not so nice people. He had some suspicions of what could have happened, but felt it was not his place to bring it up. Her behavior with Hart strengthened his suspicions. When she offered, then he would be there for support but not before.
Hall just hoped that Hart would stop before he pushed her too far. Attacking the ship’s captain was not a good option, especially with a crew that outnumbered and outleveled them.
The Gale settled at altitude, midway between Cumberland and Edin. The winds calmed somewhat, still enough to cause his eyes to water if he faced them head on. The crew all wore goggles for just that reason. He watched some large birds, their wingspan in the dozens of feet. Rocs, the only birds capable of flying in the deep sky between the islands. They soared and swooped, taking off and landing from their high mountain homes or perches underneath the islands. Luckily, none had an interest in the Gale. Fighting Rocs from a ship’s deck was not easy.
“A lovely view, is it not?” Captain Hart said, coming down to the deck and standing next to Hall. “I do not know how anyone can live on the land. The sky is so beautiful.”
And it was, Hall agreed. He had always enjoyed flying, and if he was being honest with himself, he was looking forward to the trip taking days instead of minutes. More time to enjoy the sky and the vista.
Blue sky all around, clouds floating above the islands as they floated at different elevations. Pitch black smudges of rock against the blue landscape. And far below, just the black of nothing. The sun was high in the sky off to the east where they were heading, casting its light across the sky and spreading out amongst the clouds.
“I have not been entirely honest with you,” Hart said after a minute of silence. He turned to Hall, leaning against the railing. He was smiling, the one he thought so charming.
Hall looked at him quizzically, raising an eyebrow.
“Normally we do not take on passengers,” Hart answered with a shrug. “At least not so close to launch.”
“Then why did you?”
“I captain and own the Twisted Gale but I work for another,” Hart said. “It was at his direction that we took you aboard.”
“And who is this person?” Hall asked, curious. They knew no one from Edin. Leigh did, but no one that would control an airship.
“That is why I am here,” Hart replied, stepping back from the rail and gesturing toward the door and stairs that led to the rooms below. “He asked me to bring you to him when the Gale was at altitude, and
now we are and so…” He gestured again.
With a shrug, Hall pushed off from the railing, part of him wishing he still wore his sword. He doubted he would need it, but he was a warrior and never felt comfortable going into an unknown situation without a weapon. But it was considered bad form to walk a ship armed, or so Leigh had informed them. He still had his new bracer and the two throwing knives along with his dagger, so he wasn’t completely defenseless.
Hall followed the Captain through the door, down the stairs and into the hall below the rear of the ship. Doors lined both sides with an observation balcony at the end. Hart led him toward it.
“Ninety percent of the time the Gale is free to do what she wants,” Hart said, feeling like he should explain himself to Hall. He had spent so much time when the party had first come aboard talking himself up that now admitting he worked for someone, he feared it would change their opinion of him. Hart was a man that very much cared what others thought. “It is costly running an airship,” he continued. “So, having someone to help with the bills and only beholden ten percent of the time, that’s not a bad deal.”
He stopped talking, and Hall continued not to care.
Pulling open the glass door, Hart indicated for Hall to step outside.
It was loud and windy outside, the deck under the engines and open to the sky. A solid half-height wall railing ran in a half circle, just enough space for a couple of people to stand. One person was there, off to the side where he could not be seen from the hallway. Hart closed the door and walked away, leaving Hall alone with the man.
Hall studied the other and realized he knew the man. It took a minute to place him. He was from this morning, the stranger inside the Inn that had kept staring at him.
“Who are you?” Hall asked.
Up close there was more gray in his hair and beard than Hall had first thought. Not as thin, but not overly muscular, he appeared to be fit and agile. The clothes were well made, expensive, but functional.
