Ochil: The IC

[Bosch]

OOC

Black robes…

…a frozen temple...

… worlds consumed by flames...

Silence.

Father Merrill Rigby awoke coated in sweat and surrounded by familiar, but concerned looking faces in a room that was not his own.

“Father, are you alright?” One of the concerned asked. It was Ralph, Father Rigby’s right hand.

Father Rigby croaked quietly from parched lips.

“Water!” Ralph called.

Soon the old man was sipping cool water and beginning to feel better, as evidenced by the strength his followers all knew well returning to his voice.

“I’ve seen things….Things from a time not yet past, from a time that can’t be.”

“A vision? What was revealed to you Father?” Ralph asked. Saying what everyone was thinking.

Rigby’s eyes momentarily welled with tears, a small show of emotion but coming from a man of Rigby’s nature an important one.

“Everyone out, the Father needs rest.” Ralph said quietly and the room quickly
emptied leaving just Father Rigby and Ralph.

“What did you see?”

“The Reckoning.” The old said distantly.

“A time not yet passed… What does this mean?”

“It means we must pray.”

#

The orange light of the setting sun was reflected in the gently lapping water of Ruger Lough as Nate Lake cracked the shell off another prawn and tossed it into the water. He dipped it in the creamy sauce sitting to his right and wolfed the thing whole. Nate was sitting outside the Loughside a restaurant near the docks in Ruger which had, in Nate’s opinion, the best Prawns in Ochil. When he was finished chewing he picked up the conversation where he had left off.

“… So that’s the reason I always pack extra socks.”

“The Gamara really traded you ammo for socks?” His dinner companion asked with disbelief. She was a young woman with red hair called Abigail Benedict.

“Not the Gamara, they don’t use guns. This was the Tolebuk, they liked guns but could never their heads around calibres, thought any bullet would work with any gun. Collected them obsessively though. Strange tribe.”

“Oh, of course I knew that…” She said bashfully, embarrassed by highlighting her lack of knowledge.

“Part of being a scout is making mistakes. Just try to not make the same one twice, well that’s the idea anyway.” Nate said with the easy tone of non-judgement.

“I can imagine you making the same mistake a couple of times.” Abigail said suggestively as she reached across the table and stroked his hand.

She smiled and suddenly Nate felt very old. This young woman looked to him as a living legend and he knew when she had wandered over to his table it was for more than old war stories. Where Nate ten years younger he wouldn’t have even considered it, he’d have brought her directly to the nearest inn and bedded her with the enthusiasm of a man who’d just escaped the Hiljern Mines. Now he was an old man though, beat up by a life spent adventuring in the name of the Library, he reckoned he’d just be a let-down.

“Yes Abigail, I do make the same mistakes frequently, so I try to point out when a fellow scout is about to make one. Like you are now.”

“I uh… Wha…” Her hand rocketed back to her side of the table while her face went almost as red as her hair.

“Goodnight Abigail.”

The girl stood and practically ran from the table. Nate sighed and turned his attention back to his meal.

“Still got away with the ladies, eh Nate?” Said Alicia, a waitress working at the Loughside.

“She must have seen you coming Alicia and felt intimidated by your beauty.” Nate said with a smirk.

“For the sarcasm I’ll be expecting a tip.” Alicia smiled and hooked a lock of white hair behind her ear.

“Don’t I always tip?”

Alicia raised a suspicious eyebrow but went back to clearing tables.
Before Abigail had interrupted him Nate had been reading a book called Toxins and Tonics in Post Calamity Ochilian Flora. He also had an open notebook and was making notes of the various mistakes in the book he encountered, thankfully most of the errors were simple and easily fixed. The author hadn’t bothered to ask for input from the Scouts apart from getting them to collect the plant samples and this annoyed Nate so he’d made a point of reading the book to catalogue all the mistakes. That would hurt a Librarian more than any punch to the gut.

Nate preferred the old Library, back when Librarians and Scouts worked together these days a Librarian would be lucky if they got out of Ruger a couple of times a year while the only adventure a Scout could hope for was picking daises for some bespectacled chalk sniffer to do science on. Nate didn’t really like to dwell on these thoughts though, they were the thoughts of an older man, one he wasn’t ready to become.

Nate had almost finished his meal and was thinking about paying and going home when a breathless young man in glasses ran up to his table.

“Mr Lake, Sir. Follow… Urgent... Library...” The ruddy cheeked young man gasped.

“Sit down and take a breath, son. You look like you’re about to keel over.”
Nate decided the young man was definitely a Librarian; the unfit with a chalk stained tweed jacket look was a very niche in Ruger. After the young man had caught his breath he launched into his message.

“Mr Lake, sir. Your presence is requested at the library post haste.”

“Really?”

“Yes! The Head Librarian needs to speak to you urgently.”
Edith, Nate thought as his heart annoyingly beat a little faster.

“Guess you’d better tell her I’m on my way.” Nate said as he made no move to get going.

“Uh, Sir it’s urgent?”

“Never rush a good glass of wine son. It might be your last. Tell Cav I’m on my way.”

“Yes sir!” The young Librarian said enthusiastically as he got to his feet and started running the way he came.

“Hey kid, wait a second.”

“Yes?” The young man said as nervousness crept into his voice.

“Don’t call me sir, it’s just Nate.”

“Oh of course… Nate.” Then the young man was gone down one of the many cobbled streets in Ruger.

Nate wiped his hands clean and stood up. He glanced around for Annie but she must have gone into the kitchen because he couldn’t see her. He threw some gold coins on the table and left the Loughside restaurant.

He made his way down the familiar streets and alleys that led him away from the Docks and towards the Library. Overhead the constantly changing menagerie of Airships drifted silently in the twilight sky like man made clouds. Nate usually took some time to appreciate their beauty but he was intrigued by the summons, he hadn’t spoken to Cav in weeks and this was definitely not a social call.

When he arrived at the Head Librarian’s quarters the young man was just leaving. His hair was matted with sweat and Nate figured the kid had run the whole way.

“Get yourself an ale kid. You look like you could use one.” Nate said flicking the kid a coin.

The young man caught the coin and smiled as he trotted off down the long corridor. Nate guessed the money would most likely be squandered on a book rather than a mug of ale.

Nate let himself into the Head Librarians office which wasn’t nearly as grand as the name suggested. It was a large room but looked much smaller as every conceivable corner was crammed with books or ancient artefacts. Edith Cavalcade was sitting with her head in a book while barking orders to the librarians who were also buried in some weighty looking tomes.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, Cav.” Nate said as he ran a finger along a particularly dusty shelf. “You know putting aside one day a week for household chores is a great way to keep on top of them.”

“Nate, you’re here, about bloody time. Ok everybody clear out I need the room to speak with Mr Lake.”

The librarians closed their books and filed out quickly. Whatever was going on it was clearly a big deal.

“My house keeping day is Thursday, frees up the weekend.” Nate said with a lopsided smile.

“Nate please, I didn’t call you here for amateur comedy hour. Why didn’t you come with Peter?”

“Who’s Peter? The wheezing kid you sent?”

“Wheezing…? I’ll have you know Peter is one of the finest…”

“He’s a wheezer, Cav. I was enjoying a meal, that’s why I didn’t come with him.” Nate interrupted.

“Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order. I hear you had some company as well, I hope we didn’t disturb anything.” She said in a tone of voice that told Nate she couldn’t care less but still Nate looked at the floor for a beat like a mischievous school child before meeting Cav’s steely gaze. Somehow, despite him sending the girl away, she’d been able to use it as a weapon, it was a power she always had over Nate. Despite all his experience and adventures when he was with Cav he still felt like a youngster trying to impress the girl he liked. She could send him to the stars with a laugh or crashing to earth with a frown.

“What do you need, Cav?” Nate said suddenly ready to move the conversation on.

“Do you know a man called Jenks? Hook handed bartender from Baffin Bay?”

“Yeah was a Scout from way back. Lost the hand in a poker game you know.”

“How… barbarous.” Cav replied in a deadpan. “We believe he is in possession of some information that is vital to the Library’s understanding of how the ancient Ochilians…”

“Save the history lesson Cav. What do you need me to go get?”

“Very well. Mr Jenks is in possession of two books that we would very much like to have. I want you to go get them.”

“Why send me? Sounds like a simple pick up job.”

“A big shot scout like you too good for a simple pick up job?”

“Too old.”

She smiled. “He says he’ll only talk to you.”

Nate walked over to Cav’s side of the room and sat on the edge of her desk.
“Never worked with Jenks and I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve met. Whys he want to talk to me?”

“Said his reasons are his own, but he seems quite paranoid if his letters are anything to go by.”

“Excellent, I get to meet with a paranoid, hook handed bar tender in the middle of the most insane city in Ochil. Almost sounds like an adventure. When do I leave?”

“As soon as possible but first I want you to put a team together. I’m sending some librarians with you. This is big, real big and we’ll need authentication to take place on site.”

“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to spend a few days on an airship with a bunch of scouts.”

“I’ll make sure they’re not totally green. It’ll be like old times for you.”

“I just appreciate the opportunity to stretch my legs.”

“Same old Nate.”

“Wish I could say that about you Cav. You do remember fun, don’t you?”

Cav sighed and ran a hand over her tight bun.

“Let’s not do this again Nate, you knew I wanted the job. Besides I’m sure a legend like you can have fun with anyone he wants.”

“Almost anyone…”

“Stop it Nate, just… just do what I ask.”

“You got it, Head Librarian.” Nate said as he got to his feet and made his way to the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned to look at Cav who’s eyes were still on him. “When you finally remember how to let your hair down, come find me. I miss you.”

With that Nate closed the door behind himself and made a beeline for Scout Hall, he had a meeting to call.

#

Edith Cavalcade was biting her tongue as Nate left, she didn’t know why part of her want to yell at him till she was hoarse while another wanted to kiss him. Why did he have to make things so difficult? Why was he was so comfortable expressing his feelings while she just wanted to push them down until it was like they didn’t exist anymore? Those were just a couple of the many things she’d always found simultaneously endearing and infuriating about Nate Lake.

“Come back in.” She called to the Librarians she knew were sitting outside her office. Edith passed a note one woman who entered. “I need these Librarians to come here and meet with me. Tell them to pack for travel.”

#

Nate entered Scout Hall which a room that could hold about a hundred people and was covered with Memorabilia from the scouts past. Inside a group of Youngsters were milling about chasing each other, shouting, just being loud in general.

“Who wants to make some coin?” Nate said loudly and silence fell as the children all nodded.

“Good I need you to find these Scouts and bring them here. Ok?”
Nate wrote down some names along with a message and handed them to the children.

“First one back gets an extra coin.” In seconds the hall was empty as the children tore through the city to hunt down their quarry.

Finally with the hall silent Nate turned his attention to the large Map of Ochil that dominated the front of Scout Hall. He had to plot a course to Baffin Bay and then track down the Harlot’s Wrath, the bar Jenks worked in. This was easier said than done when dealing with a floating city.

#

The chime of the doorbell awoke Captain Dash Mover from a light sleep but it wasn’t until the third ring did he pry himself from the couch he had been sleeping on. He was in his father’s study but since Dash had moved in it was on his bedroom. He had a room upstairs but he couldn’t get used to sleeping in a bed, all the time spent on Airships had left him preferring the claustrophobic study than the orderly bedroom.

Dash grabbed a revolver off the table in front of him and pulled on a robe. He stuck the gun in the pocket of the robe and kept his hand to it, whoever was at the door wouldn’t know a gun was on them until bullet came flying out of his pocket. The wooden floors were cold underfoot but reminded Dash of The Icarus and for a second he felt homesick for the airship. Sighing Dash approached the door and decided he’d go back to Scout hall the following day and try to weasel some work out of someone.

He clutched the revolver and opened the front door of the house to reveal a small boy standing on the porch. Dash recognised him immediately as being a runner for the Scouts.

“Willie? What’s going on?”

“Nate sent me. Said you should have the Icarus ready to go for tomorrow. He’s got a job.”

“That so Willie?”

“Sure is Dash.”

“Good you go tell Nate it’ll be waiting.”

Willie nodded and ran off into the night.

Dash couldn’t help from smiling as he went back inside.

#

“I love waking up next to you.” Daniel Lockhart said to his wife Eve, whose head was resting in the crook of his arm.

“And I love being Mrs Lockhart, Mr Lockhart.” She said with a smile.

Daniel’s face creased into a large smile, a childish innocent smile, the one Eve had fallen in love with. It was the sort of smile she rarely saw growing up and still found refreshing. They looked into each other’s eyes for a beat but the moment was broken by a creak outside their door. Daniel’s smile dropped and turned to a grimace.

“Not now…” He moaned quietly but was cut short by the bedroom door being blown off its hinges.

“Little pig, little pig!” a very familiar, very gruff voice called into the cabin.

“Mikra weeps!” Eve exclaimed “You blew the bloody door off!”

The jangle of stirrups announced the arrival of Lucas Greybeard who wafted the gunsmoke out of his face and walked into the room with a double barrelled shotgun pointed directly at Daniel.

“Didn’t even huff!” He growled. “Who dis?”

“Dad that’s my husband. Daniel. You know this.” Eve explained.

“I no know him. My girl child marry strong man, not half mast.”

“Dad cut it out! You have to stop doing this!”

“I worry about girl child. Only child.”

“I’ve been married for two years. For the love of Mikra, you insisted on marrying us!”

“Hey hey hey! Watcha tongue, we no use that word in boat.” Lucas’ eyes darted about like Mikra himself was going to strike down the Harlot’s Wrath Pub.

“Uh dad, can you leave?” Eve asked after a few second of silence.

“Is my ship. I go where please.”

“Mr Greybeard can I just say…” Daniel started.

“Shut talky now, half mast.” Lucas said dismissively.

“Yes sir.”

“See he no good. He got no bollards, no passion!”

“Dad, this has gone on far enough.”

“Ok, I no welcome in girl child’s cabin. On my ship! Still I no welcome. Halfmast, you late for work. Jenks no here.”

Daniel leapt from the bed but had forgotten he was stark naked. Lucas’ eyes dropped for a second then went to his daughter.

“See? Is halfmast.”

Lucas Greybeard then left his daughter and her husband to get ready for the day while chuckling to himself. His shoulders lumped though when he came to the staircase that would bring him to the bar. He longed for the day Daniel Lockhart would take a swing at him or at least try to shoot him for that would be the day Greybeard knew Daniel was man. His daughter’s husband wasn’t tough enough for Baffin Bay and people around there had the uncanny ability to sense softness. That’s why he employed the boy and offered him a room under his Balloon, he needed to be sure Daniel could at least protect his daughter when Lucas inevitably died.

Lucas walked out onto the deck of The Harlot’s Wrath and checked the rigging, it was a habit he had kept up from his pirating days although these days The Harlot just floated and didn’t do much flying. Years earlier he had docked the ship in Baffin Bay and it had remained in the same place ever since, now it was part of the ricketys, just another floating pub. Lucas closed his eyes and remembered what the deck had looked like once, a long time ago, back when men fought and died on board all for loot and plunder, when cannon balls sailed over head and Confederate blood fell from the sky. He opened his eyes but the tables and chairs where still there. Lucas sighed and went in search of rum.

[Naril]

It paid to be careful around certain parts of the Library, a place where explosions, smoke, and caustic gasses could be an everyday hazard. The part they called the Alchemist's Wing in particular always seemed to have a pall of coloured smoke about the place, accentuated by the acrid smell of acid or a pungent, organic odour somehow frightening by its vagueness. Sparks from electrical experiments threw their actinic glare even in the brightest sunlight while men and women in thick goggles and thicker gloves made detailed notes in inscrutable shorthand. Now and then, the very stone walkways thrummed with the vibration of something massive but ominously out of sight. The more nervous members of the Library's staff walked through the Wing in a sort of permanent flinch; ready at any moment to bolt to the safety of one of the Library's thick, iron-bound doors.

Cavalcade's messenger certainly fit that description. His short hair stuck straight off his skull with no assistance from the huge, brass-and-steel wheel that threw ten-foot sparks as he passed it. As the bolts snapped and buzzed, their searing blue light reflected from his pale skin like the snows of winter. He winced at every creak and hiss from a steam-powered contraption, all leather hoses and brass fittings. Sandalled feet twitched with anxious intensity away from a cart carrying a shining, jointed monstrosity, the bent and twisted pistons on a leg covered in symbols and engineer's marks. His watery blue eyes darted to the men that pushed the cart and he took a step back, as though he expected the machine, or the coloured bottles, or indeed, the bearded and goggled men around them, to suddenly attack.

Some time later, with sweat streaked down his face and a burst of soot caked onto one side of his head, the messenger stepped into a wide, open area, the sun warm and inviting. A stone walkway stretched to either side, a long grassy field hemmed in by three of the Library's huge stone walls lay ahead, small hills here and there dappled with sunshine. He took a step forward onto the walkway, tilted his head back and took a deep, grateful breath, much of the sharp smell of the Wing tugged away by a gentle, cool breeze. He took another step forward, dragged in another breath, and something beneath his feet made a merry jingle. Something smooth and hard and warm rolled over a toe, and then the air shattered as though Mikra himself had torn it apart.

The messenger's eyes slammed open as his head filled with a high, sharp ringing sound, all in a moment disoriented. His vision swam for a moment as he turned dull eyes to the source of the sound, not entirely sure why. A figure in dark colours stood a few feet away, a long stick held to her shoulder, like a player investigating their pool cue. The figure jerked their right hand down and forward with a clank that seemed to come from very far away, and a shining golden splinter flew out, straight toward the messenger. Still not in possession of all his wits, the man reached out one slow hand to catch the thing as it arced up, then down, as if it were meant to be. As if it were a message only for him, delivered from some blurry, half-perceived angel.

He caught the falling cylinder in outstretched fingers, and considered it for a fraction of a second before the sizzling pain fired his brain into action. He dropped it with a loud, almost girlish yelp of pain and waved his hand around in the air, his flailing movements almost like the jigs popular in Baffin Bay. After a few moments of this, the man stuck his burned fingers in his mouth and the yelp became a muffled, uncomfortable whimper as he squeezed his eyes shut. He kicked up more shell casings, the little brass cylinders rang and pinged as they fell on stone and turf. A handful pattered against Kay's legs as she lowered her rifle then turned to the new arrival, an expression equal parts confusion and amusement on her tanned face.

She reached up and pulled a pair of plugs out of her ears then shook her head, her short hair falling back into its usual place. The rifle clicked a couple of times as she picked it up and made her way over to the messenger, who looked as though the entire world had fallen down around his ears, hunched in on himself, sucking on his fingers and making a soft keening noise. His other hand lay clenched around his stomach, the sinews starting from his skin for no reason that Kay could see. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder with a feather-soft touch, almost afraid the man would collapse into a gibbering heap at any further interruption.

"You…uh, you all right, there?" She said, trying to get a look at the man's face. With geologic slowness, he uncurled from his pained hunch and unfolded enough to pull his fingers out of his mouth. His face had become even more pale, drawn with nerves and shock, a bright red welt across his first three fingers slick with spit in the daylight. The keening noise stopped, and he swallowed like a man facing the gallows.

"Mm….Miss Cava….Cavalcade w-wants to see you in her o…office," the man burbled, "Sh…she says to pack for t…travelling." His voice came out raspy and uneven, warbling from pitch to pitch.

Kay raised one dark eyebrow, and the man flinched away, as though the prospect of more questions would be more than he could handle.

"P…please, I don't know anything else," he blubbered, "I just want to get back to my b-books!"

"All right then," Kay said, and patted the man on the shoulder again, "Just…run along then, I guess. Thank y-" She began, but the man had sprinted away with everything he had down one of the stone corridors to the left.

Kay sighed, hefted her rifle, and walked back towards the Alchemist's Wing.

[Xartarin]

A handful of researchers were chatting away in a small lab, with a hundred scattered pieces of junk sprawled out on the table in the center. Very old pieces of some ancient machine, possibly something pre-steam. There were some wooden counters along the side of the room that a few of the people were sitting on or using to write down details about the pieces they were studying. A window provided most of the light, but a few lanterns were placed by the pieces and some of the note-takers to get a better look at them.

Though the pieces had been dusted and had some of the dirt removed, most of the pieces were left dirty and corroded for fear of damaging them. About half of them were writing down notes or drawing sketches of the pieces for later reference, while the other half were busy analyzing the pieces. Each piece had a small letter-and-number tag tied around it for organization. So far, it wasn't clear what this machine was supposed to have done. Not only was it old, but it had been destroyed quite thoroughly. All that remained were bits, pieces, and scraps.

One red-haired student, fairly well-dressed with a brown jacket and lighter-colored vest, put a few fingers on his chin and asked one of the note-takers how old the pieces were. The student replied that they were probably around two or three hundred years ago, according to a professional that had already dated most of the pieces. "And it was found on a trade route, so we don't even really know where it came from!" The red-haired boy said in turn, frustrated. "We've been here for an hour, I say we classify it as 'unknown tool or machine' and carry on, we have better things to do."

"We have exhibits from even earlier, Ray, this device is far from too old to classify properly," said a student sketching one of the pieces, not looking up from his paper. He seemed to be not bothering drawing the miscellaneous pieces they had seen in other simple tools and machines, and focused on some of the parts that seemed unique.

"It's not how old it is, it's the state it was in. Whatever this thing was, device or tool or whatever, it was dismantled and left in a heap. We're lucky to have this many pieces, but there's not nearly enough here to even begin to put it together," Ray said, his fingers tangled in his hair as he paced back and forth in the lab.

Lithia Verma, on the other end of the table, was eyeing one piece in particular. The sketch artist was right, they did have machines from around the same time period, and it showed in the pieces. "We don't really need to piece it together, we just need to look for the important parts," Lithia said, her eyes glazing over some of the nuts and bolts. "Some of these bits I can recognize, but there's also a few that I don't think we've seen before, so I don't think we should write off just yet. Who knows, we might just discover something new. And even if we don't, it's probably still worth our time."

Ray turned his head back to the pieces, teeth clenched. "Yeah, maybe we'll discover an ancient scrap yard," he said sarcastically, and turned away to glare at a corner of the ceiling, pondering whether or not to storm out. He had other plans for today, and none of them involved trying to decipher the worst archaeological specimen he ever laid eyes on.

After a couple minutes of thinking and looking, Lithia said, "Sam, can you actually write that one down as a possibility? These could literally BE scraps."

Ray was about to let her know that was a joke when a knock on the door interrupted him. One of the note-takers, 'Sam', reached out a hand to push the door a few inches open. The messenger outside opened it the rest of the way, and asked the group, "Is Lithia Verma here?"

"Present!" Lithia said, her hand shooting up in reaction. The others glared at her, and she sheepishly put her hand down. "Er... I mean... I'm here.."

The messenger rolled his eyes, and says "Miss Cavalcade wants to see you, says it's urgent. Also, she says to pack for travel. She didn't say where."

As the messenger turned to leave, Lithia shouted "Wait! Travel where? What am I doing there, what should I pack for?"

"I just said she didn't say where," the messenger said, looking annoyed. He started tapping his foot a little.

"But.. should I pack my excavation equipment? Or am I inspecting some kind of artifact? Will I be studying something? I don't know what to pack!"

"I don't have time for this," the messenger said, and left. Lithia turned around halfway, seeing her peers barely managing to stifle a laugh. One of them turned away a bit to snicker as softly as they could manage, and another simply coughed and cleared their throat. Lithia turned away quickly and exited the room, walking down the hall. As fast as she could manage she fled the archaeology wing and headed to her room. Her embarrassment became haste as she packed her excavation gear and filled a separate bag with some spare changes of clothes and other overnight necessities as fast as she could so as to not keep Cavalcade waiting. Hoping not to run into any of the people she had been working with earlier today on the way, she hurried to the head librarian's office.

[PrimezTime]

The small morning cafe was filled to the brim with people. It was a little family place and well a ways off the beaten path. Still, people arrived by the troves for some odd reason or another. That reason was beyond anyone's explanation so nobody bothered asking why they went in the first place. The family that owned the place was the Garrisons'. Large family, nine total, and all of them did their part to chip in with this place. It was a nice open-aired cafe with no wall dividing the outside seating with the inside seating. Three wood-burning fireplaces lined the inner seating to keep the place warm during the colder months and there was one centralized fire pit for the outer seating.

Among the roaring conversations, laughter, and plates being clanged together was a man huffing and puffing on his half-depleted cigar. His nice clothing seemed out of place when compared to the other customers. He was the only one smoking, too.

She's late. Another puff of smoke expelled from his mouth as he continued his thoughts. It was mostly speculations on where she was or could have been. As he thought more and more on the manner of her tardiness, he puffed harder on his cigar exhausting its lifetime more and more. His thoughts were interrupted as cluster of cold ash from his cigar fell upon his pant leg.

"Dammit..." He said under his breath as he began wiping the little gray flakes off of his pants. He stood and flicked his cigar to the ground and stomped on it as he began to gather his things from the table. He threw some money on the table and headed out of the roofed part of the cafe.

"Thank you, sir!" A young-faced boy hollered at the man in the suit. While it was meant in good spirits, it felt like an insult. The boy didn't know his own representative. Nobody here seemed to know that Ronald Sinclair, their district representative, was sitting at the table next to them. There were a few looks but that was it.

As Ron crossed the threshold of the four wooden pillars that separated the non-roofed area from the roofed area, he put on his hat and set out for the middle of the city. He only managed to clear the collection of matching cafe tables before a shout sounded from behind him.

"Ron!"

Knowing that voice, Ron turned from his original heading and faced a bright, cheerful woman with an appreciable smile on her face. "You are late, Julia." Ron's face showed a sour, hateful expression as he answered her.

The woman shook her head as she took a few steps towards Ron. "I know, I know and I'm sorry. I'll save the reason because you'll just brand it as an excuse, but I'll tell you what, they needed me elsewhere and I didn't have the heart to tell them no."

Ron pressed his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose and slammed his eyes shut. He exhaled loudly before answering. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just head back to the center of town. We have a lot to discuss."

---

"...So that's where I'm at. If I don't do something now, I may never get into an elected office again, and I don't want to go back to being a Scout."

Julia looked up at his face, it looked beaten. "What's so wrong with being a Scout, again? We had a good time, right?"

Ron stopped and met Julia's gaze. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. "Ron, I know you didn't mean anything by that, but it isn't the end of the world if you don't get reelected." Ron was still speechless as Julia gave him a very concerned look. Julia continued in a very hushed tone. "Listen, Ron. I want you to..."

"Uh, excuse me, miss Harkas?" A small boy was looking at Julia eagerly. She gave the boy a confused look. "Miss Harkas, you are required at the Library, immediately. I'm not sure why but I know that it is urgent." Julia nodded and turned back to Ron. "Sorry, I have to go. We'll talk later, okay?"

Ron weakly shook his head. "Yea, sure. See you later." Julia turned and followed the boy back to the Library, leaving Ron in the middle of the cobblestone street. He stood there for a minute, watching the two of them until they vanished in a crowd of people. He turned and headed back towards the center of the city.

[Vinsanity]

Ey Lap Dog

Kele was scrubbing the decks as ordered too directly by the captain. His eyes never peeled away from the wooden boards beneath him and his goal in getting his job done at a sufficient time. The more he could show he was an asset rather than just another crew member the better his chances were at increasing his quality of living on this ship. His language skills improved every day since Kele had been captured. His interactions with the crew were still for the most part not going so well, but it was how Kele liked it. He kept to himself and just looked out for himself, it was simple and easy and exactly how he'd want things. Of course every day he dreamed of returning back to his family, his old life, the life where the colors of the land were extreme in beauty and purity, where the only job he had was to hunt, where he and the others would dance and rejoice all night. His old world, beat the new world he had fallen victim too, he almost felt bad for those who never experienced what he did on a day to day basis when he was younger. All he had now though...were the memories.

His eyes fixated on scrubbing the wood, his head swirling with thoughts and images of his prior life. His memories flashing in motion pictures sparking emotions that he wish he could call real once more. He only held hope, and cold stares to those around him. Kele got up from scrubbing the wooden deck above and made his way below to begin his second task for the day, upon walking down the crickety wooden steps he encountered a group of crew members huddled, laughing, and talking with one another. Kele's next task was passed these men so he had to walk through them, and without any words he forced his way through the bottle necked area of men.

"Ey! Ey you! quite rude o' ye t' be walkin' through our conversation like ye did don't ye think?"

Kele said no words and tried to continue walking but was greeted by two other individuals who came out of shadows around the corner in front of him.


"Where do ye think yer goin', ye dog?"

The lower decks were always uncomfortably warm, and they usually smelled of whiskey and sweat. Only lit by the light that could seep through the spaces between the wooden boards. Each crew member spoke, a whiff of alcohol could be grabbed by even the most stuffy of noses within these corridors. The life style of men aboard these ships did not suit Kele. He liked his appearance tidy, not so "all over the place" one might say describing the appearance of a "Pirate".

Kele's head was down for the first encounter and upon being greeted and stopped by the two individuals in front of him, he lifted his head to meet their eyes, Kele's red eyes revealed themselves giving him that eerie, demonic look which no man aboard could trust, or deny the intimidating presence they had when they fell on you.

"To do my duty aboard this ship."

His voice was strong but soft at the same time, it added to his mysterious character, he even had a little bit of rasp to his voice as the time increased on-board the ship. Kele didn't talk as a majority of the men did either, he talked more like the captain on this ship, most of his time was spent when not on the ship protecting the captain, so he learned through observation and repetition of listening in on his captain's conversations. Hence he got the nickname "Guard Dog," from all of the crew members. This didn't bother him too much, it was situations like these however where Kele knew that the only way it was going to end was with physical altercations.

"How about instead o' that, ye let us cut that lily livered arse hair off an' make ye one o' us, instead o' a lap dog fer th' captain."

Spit flung out from the man's mouth in front of him, his eyes were baggy and his hair was a mess. One front missing tooth showed his lack of hygene and the man's putrid smell lingering around his body added to what was already known, he lacked any type of upkeep.

"How about you allow me to pass and go about my ways instead of wasting my time with you squabbling with insults toward my hair."

Kele clenched his right fist to prepare for what was inevitably approaching,

"You aren`t anythin' without th' captain by yer side, nothin' but meat fer th' rest o' us t' get a piece o' ye, yer beneath us ye scum gamara piece o' bilge water, me an' me heartys be goin' t' teach ye a lesson."

The man stepped forward and as he did, Kele immediately closed the gap before the man could react and slammed his large fist into the man's gut. This created the attacker to gasp for air and bend forward from the impact. The attacker took two steps back after the blow and tried collecting himself but failed in doing so and instead dropped to his knees as his two hands covered his stomach and collapsed on to the ground shriveling up into a ball of pain. Kele aimed right for the kidney, which seemed to be a successful shot. Kele moved forward and walked over the collapsed soul to continue with what he was going to do.

Kele made his way back up to the top of the deck to start with task two after grabbing the things he needed from below. He reached the middle of the deck before being tackled by one of the men he had encountered down below earlier. The man who tackled him was on his back mounted, delivering shots to his side. While two other men joined the violence, one throwing a kick to his face, while the other went to help pin him down. Others began chanting and making noise who were observing the fight on the top deck that it lead to allowing the captain to become aware of what was going on. He heard all of the commotion and exited his quarters to see Kele getting beat up by three individuals.

"What is the meaning of this!?"

The three individuals had Kele up against a mast, striking him over and over until the captain's voice struck through the air with the power of thunder behind it. All with blank stares looked behind them to see the captain's displeased face and all of them knew they were not going to like the outcome of whatever was next.

The one holding Kele up let him go and stood at attention for the captain as did the others, and Kele dropped to his knees, blood dripping down from the side of his lips to the side of his chin. It trickled and dripped smacking the "scrubbed" wooden floors. His hair was just about to be caught before the captain walked in, and his eyes were low, swollen, and his body had bruises from several very hard blows. However his awareness did not faulter, even if his vision tunneled. Kele was a Gamara by heart after all, and would not accept a bunch of cowardly rats to get the best of him. At least not the one who got the jump on him.

The captain was delivering his punishment through verbal abuse and orders of what their tasks were going to be. Everything to Kele was quite muffled and jumbled, and his mind was set on the blade that rested loosely in the ties around one of the attacker's waist. As the captain finished up, Kele mustered just enough energy to explode from off his knees, grasped the sword resting in the attacker's waist band who was intently listening the captain with his back turned, as they all were. Drove the blade quickly through the back of the attacker and twisted it.

Before anyone could gather on what just happened the attacker had blood shoot from his mouth as he coughed and looked slowly down at his stomach. A blade stained with his own blood rested in his stomach. His hands naturally drew close to the blade before he abruptly fell to the floor. Kele dropped to his knees again as the strength to just stand was too much. Although physically beaten, the fire in his eyes remained, and that is what still kept the men on guard, even with the state he was in. The other two who aided the dead attacker drew their blades in retaliation to Kele's actions but were silenced by the captain.

"You do not touch him! Place the weapons back to where you grabbed them or fear death by the wrath of yours truly."

The two lowered their weapons,

"This be nay over, ye ugly dog."

One said as he spit on Kele while walking passed him.

Kele slowly drifted into darkness after this display of disrespect and found himself lost in a world that was familiar to him. Where the land around him was extreme in beauty and the songs of his family were heard.

BUMP

Kele woke up with the ship slightly hitting something which caused him to rock off the cot he could only assume he was recovering in. He wasn't quite sure how he arrived at the room he was in, or where he even was, except that he knew he was on a ship. The smell could only be from one place and that was the lower decks.

He gathered himself together, and as he did so the door to the room opened up.

"Ahh, your awake! It's about time lad, you've been asleep for quite a bit, let me get you caught up to speed on things. After that little incident you had with a few of the crew members, you showed me you had more value than just watching guard when off the ship. You showed, you have a lot of fire and a lot more smarts than a majority of men on this ship, which is sad considering you were yanked from your world into ours, which I do apologize for, unfortunately I cannot change what has been done, but can only make things better. You were promoted to officer after that situation, I need a man like you to run the men when I am not around, and considering the faulty job of my last officer, I demoted him back into the lower decks. So what say you?"

Kele was quite rattled with unstable thoughts and trying to piece back together what had happened and what brought him to this time and place. He was trying to remember the situation that the captain was referring too. He could only remember punching a man and then...Kele had all of his memories race right back into his skull.

"Well, no need for an answer now, but your new clothes are sitting there on the table, I expect you to look the part of an intimidating officer, today we are going to meet some old friends of mine."

Before Kele could ask a question the captain was already gone.

Kele got up from the bed and looked over at his new clothes, they weren't the rags he was used too.

Kele was now wearing a Shoulder Brace that shows his rank on-board the ship, no shirt which allows him to show off his tattoos as all Gamara liked to do, and black pants, brown boots, two leather finger-less gloves, along with a pair of goggles. Which all of these beat his ragged, ripped, clothes from before.

Kele placed everything on and slid the goggles over his head so that they rested around his neck and opened the door making his way from out of the lower decks, on to the top deck and laid his eyes on a massive network of ships.

Behind him he could hear the voice of his captain,

"Welcome Kael, to Baffin Bay!"

[Bosch]

Nate looked around the Hall at the assembled Scouts and figured that the time preparing the stores had been well spent as the Scouts would need to arm themselves for the upcoming trip. The motley crew assembled before him was likely to be the best he could assemble on short notice and he couldn’t wait any longer so he stood and purposefully strode to the lectern standing at the front of the room.

“Scouts, Its time for the brief.”

Nate waited a beat while the talking died down and everyone found a seat.

“Apologies about the short notice but the boffins over in the Library are all riled up about something which means we get to come in on a perfectly good evening. I spoke to Head Librarian Cavalcade earlier this evening and she has asked me to travel to Baffin Bay to pick up some kind of document from a man called Jenks. Some of the older folks out there may remember Jenks as a Scout, these days he’s a bar tender in a pub called The Harlot’s Wrath.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from some of the younger Scouts.

“Yes it used to be the Harlot’s Wrath and yes the Lucas Greybeard is the proprietor. We only want Jenks so Mikra willing we won’t have to get involved with that basket case. According to Cavalcade we may have our hands full on the psychotic front thanks to Mr Jenks who is a little paranoid and will only hand the documents over to me. I know, I know I thought it sounded like a fool’s errand too but the Library has deemed it important enough to send a team of genuine Chalk sniffing Librarians in with us.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd and a few of the Scouts leaned in further.

“Thought that would get your attention. This will be a straight pickup but as we’re bringing some Librarians along for the ride it is also an escort run, the first in quite some time. That means the Library wants as many Scouts on this as possible and that’s why you’re all here. I want volunteers.”

#

The Librarians Edith had summoned were sitting quietly in her office some winked and nodded amongst themselves but most just glanced around nervously. Edith reviewed her notes one last time before getting to her feet and clearing her throat.

“Librarians I have requested your presence this evening as we have received some information of great importance, information about Sky Haven.”
She paused for effect but most of the room was furiously taking notes. Her dramatic flair wasted she continued on.

“As you all know Sky Haven was the last refuge of Ochilian Royalty before the Calamity. It’s commonly believed to be a lost city and is not given much serious academic thought due to the lack of evidence. Nevertheless obscure and sporadic references to Sky Haven are found in Literature from the period. This makes sense as the city was designed as a refuge for Royalty during times of strife so revealing it’s exact location would have been counterproductive.”

Edith pulled a map of Ochil down in front of the Blackboard.

“The message we received related a page fragment that apparently offers much background history on Sky Haven along with a possible location. The man selling this document is called Jenks and he lives in Baffin Bay. Here.”
With a long cane Cav pointed to Baffin Bay.

“Mr Jenks was a former Scout and for this reason we are putting more stock into his claims than most. It is also for this reason that the Library has agreed to offer Jenks a lot of gold for the document however before we part with that sort of coin we’ll need to authentic the document. That is where you come in.”

#

“Basically the job is holding some Librarians hands on an Airship flight to Baffin Bay, collecting a document, getting them to authenticate it before giving Jenks one of the biggest chunks of change I’ve ever seen.”

Nate cleared his throat and took a glass of water, he noticed Abigail wasn’t in the audience but didn’t dwell on it. Girl was probably still embarrassed.

“The Airship we’re taking is The Icarus, her Captain is Dashiell Mover and he’s the fellow at the back of the room with the busted beak. He’ll explain the rules on board the Airship once we get up there for now all you need to know is we set off in two hours and the Icarus is docked at the Library Cloud Walk.”

#

“I don’t need to tell any of you how revolutionary this document would be if it proves to be legitimate for that reason it is not possible to overstate your roles in this endeavour. To this end I will also be sending a team of Scouts along with you headed by Nathaniel Lake. They are there for your safety and to protect the document, don’t expect too much out of them by way of conversation though. “
A few of the Librarians laughed and Edith considered that to be a standing ovation considering the crowd.

“You will all be travelling on The Icarus which is captained by Dashiell Mover. Some of you may know him as Emmet and Caroline Mover’s son. Needless to say he didn’t follow them into the Library. On board the Icarus he is in charge. Outside the ship listen to the Scouts, they may look boorish but I assure you they are the only thing standing between you and Baffin Bay.”

Edith looked at each of the faces before her and felt like a mother bird pushing her chicks from the nest. Baffin Bay would be a massive culture shock for most of them and she just hoped Nate Lake had chosen his Scouts wisely. She knew if anything happened to them the fact she sent them into harm’s way would weigh heavily on her shoulders.

“The Icarus leaves in two hours I recommend you all collect the supplies you need and get to the Cloud walk.”

#

After the meeting Nate and Dash left Scout Hall and went directly to the Library Cloud Walk which was a docking station for Airships of the Library’s own design. The two men stepped on to the deck and continued with their preparations while Scouts and Librarians began to arrive.

When the team was complete Dashiell would give his talk to his new passengers and they would cast off.

[Anneyong Haseyo]

For someone who was not acquainted with Annabelle Hartz, they would have found it very peculiar when a small, fiery haired woman stormed off the airship amidst a group of worn out looking scouts who easily engulfed her with their size. It was even more strange that the angry expression on her face was quite frightening and contrasted with the blank and doggedly tired looks of her peers. Apparently, they were walking too slow for her as she quickly barreled past them, shooting them angry looks if they even dared glance in her direction. They never once dared question her authority, some even moving aside for her to go ahead of them. That’s right, she thought, with a grim smirk, it’s the least they could do after what happened today.

With purpose, the woman made her way to the command building at Cloud Walk to have a word with Payter, the man in charge of the company of scouts she was a part of. The hook nosed, raven haired man didn’t even turn from the window he was surveying as she slammed the door open, his flustered looking secretary following close behind.

“I tried to tell her, Sir! That she didn’t have an appointment, but she just went right on through like-“, the secretary turned to Anna with a look of disdain, “like one of them savage Gamaras!”

The look on Anna’s face was equally icy, save for the hard smirk that seemed to be plastered on. It was a habit of hers that she unconsciously resorted to whenever she was in a foul mood. It was as if she found some twisted humor in whatever caused her emotional turmoil.

“Really, Diane, you say it like some kind of insult. I admire the Gamaras. In fact, I’m particularly fond of the way they deal with people they. don’t. like.” She spat.

“Ladies,” Payter sighed, finally turning around with a tired look on his face. He was met with the fierce glares of two women who seemed about ready to bite his head off. “Diane, thank you for your efforts. You may return to your desk.” He watched the smug look that Anna shot the retreating woman, who mumbled something under her breath.

“As for you,” he said, locking gazes with the red head, “I would appreciate it if you were more considerate of my employees, your co-workers.”

“Considerate? Considerate!?” she hissed, turning the full force of her wrath directly at the man in front of her. She marched toward him, with a finger pointed accusingly in his direction. “Do you want to know what considerate did for me? I’ve been nothing but considerate with the new recruits. They may have memorized everything there is to know about technology, but they know damn near nothing about survival and you know why!? Its because they haven't been on a real mission! Just those stupid gadget retrievals that those bookworms send us on! We were almost killed out there, Patyer! There’s a small glitch in the plan, and they freeze! It’s like all of their training went down and out their stupid little asses. Severny has no mercy for anyone, Payter, especially the weak.”

The older man, looked calmly at her and waited a few moments until she lowered her finger and looked at the ground. The angry glare was still fixed on her face, but there was a tinge of guilt. Despite her frustration, he was still her superior and she had crossed the line.

“I know,” she said dejectedly, “I’m on probation.”

“For a month,” Payter added, as the woman blew out a breath, and placed her hands on her hips. He knew it wasn’t in response to her punishment. Judging by the thoughtful frown on her face, her thoughts were elsewhere. His suspicions were confirmed as she began to speak.

“I don’t like what we stand for anymore, Payter. I feel like we’re just pack mules to the librarians, running this errand and fetching that trinket. The comradary’s absolutely gone.” She leaned against his desk recalling stories of the earlier days the older scouts were so fond of talking about. Of course, she wasn’t a part of those times, she became a scout much later, but ever since she became one, it’s been a secret desire of hers to restore that. Unfortunately, the system was way too powerful for her to even make a dent. As it always is, she grimly thought, referring to her past in Severny.

“And you’re saying this is why the new recruits aren’t up to par,” he concluded, watching her nod slowly in response.

“The newbies, they may know how an air-ship works or how to pick out a pre-stem gun from a pile of other guns without even blinking, but they just don’t have,” she searched around for the right words, “what you have, what I’ve learned from you guys. You know, the butt kicking, diving head first into danger and emerging with barely any scratches skills from back in the day. Remember those?” A small, rueful laugh accompanied her last statement, both from Annabelle and Payter. They stood in silence for a few moments reminiscing before Patyer’s face lit up. He turned around to pick up a rolled up piece of parchment from his desk.

“A summons for you from Nate himself,” he smiled as she took the document and quickly read through it, “Perhaps, this may be a chance for you to stop complaining to me and do something about it. Complain to the big man himself. He’s right outside.”

Annabelle’s smile widened at the thought of why Nate was amassing a group of them together and she ran to the window to see the man himself talking with one of the airship captains. Must be something big, she concluded, giving Payter a playful salute before leaving his office. His secretary looked up from her desk as Annabelle walked by, throwing her an icy glare.

“Oh, he’s right outside? Well then, when I meet with the big man, I’ll be sure to do you a favor and ask Nate for a new secretary for ya,” she smirked, giving a suddenly terrified Diane a wink as she made her way out the door.

“Oh, and a temp for you, considering you’ll be on probation when you return from your mission with Nate”. She heard Payter call after her. She could almost hear the laughter in his voice. However, the thought of impending boredom and doom did not phase her jovial mood as she stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.

The woman barreled down the sidewalk toward Nate, summons in hand and a large grin on her face. She appeared before him breathless, and took a moment to catch her breath before speaking.

“Sorry, boss, I uh, just got back from a mission and Payter handed me your summons just moments later,” she grinned, waving the parchment in his face enthusiastically. “Sorry, I wasn’t there for the briefing, but you know I’m always up for a good adventure. Please tell me this is one of ‘em!?”

[Naril]

The door to Kay's office squealed in protest as she pushed it open on its long-neglected hinges. Light filtered in through the tall windows, specks of dust floated in the sunbeams as the air currents disturbed them. Kay's desk, a huge, ancient thing that had come with the office, stood crammed with papers, half-broken mechanisms, and a dozen sizes of shell casings. A leather satchel hung on the back of the old wooden chair, itself already housing a paperwork catastrophe in miniature. Kay breezed by the academic disaster area and snatched the satchel off the chair, a dull clank very loud in the dusty room as things inside shifted. She set it on a pile of correspondence, the top page marked "IMMEDIATE ATTENTION" in faded red ink then flipped the top open with a practiced gesture.

The usual collection of gear greeted her: notebooks, grease pencils, a stick of charcoal. She flicked through this thing and that for a few minutes before she reached into a drawer of her desk and pulled a few other sundries out, and replaced certain things with other instruments. She did it with a quick, efficient method that suggested long practice; even apparent dilemmas between pieces of gear lasted only moments. Apparently satisfied, she flipped the lid of the satchel closed, tugged it through a bright metal buckle, fastened it tight. She patted an outside pocket, ran a finger along a deep score in the thick, dark leather, and smirked to herself.

Chasing legends, she thought, Madmen and tall tales. Like some children's story, but Cavalcade is taking it seriously enough.

Kay turned on the spot, reached toward a peg on the wall and removed a wide-brimmed wool hat, tugged it over her dark hair. She examined herself in a dusty mirror for half a moment, adjusted the hat to a more rakish angle, and turned back into the room again. She crossed the creaking floorboards with long strides, then yanked a drawer out from an old wooden cabinet that, against all probability, seemed to require folded-up cardboard under all four feet to stay level. The drawer slid out with a low rumble, another apparently random collection of mechanisms jumbled together inside. She levered a couple of dusty, cracked armatures apart, pulled out a thick leather belt. The wooden grip of a revolver poked out a well-worn holster slung low on the leather strap, and Kay hefted it a few times. She shrugged, then tugged the belt around her waist, worked the revolver's trigger, hammer, swung the cylinder out, then clicked it back into place.

Sky Haven, Last Citadel of the Old Time, ran Kay's thoughts, And someone says they know how to find it. If there's even a breath of truth to it, probably won't be back here for a while…

Kay pulled another drawer open and tossed a couple of dog-eared paperback books onto the desk beside her bag. She looked around the office for a long, lingering moment, her eyes faraway in thought. Every time she left, she felt like she had forgotten something. Sometimes she had, but most times she hadn't. Still, it always did to be thorough. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let it out slowly into the still, dusty air. Then she picked her long, brown coat off its peg by the door, stuffed the paperbacks into its cavernous pockets, slung the satchel over her shoulder and walked back through the door, quick steps on course to the Cloud Walk.

Five minutes later, she ran back to the door, wrenched it open, and grabbed her rifle.

---

Ropes creaked as the wind sliced through the Cloud Walk. The handful of airships bobbed in their berths as men and women swarmed along the catwalks; dirty, rough-faced Scouts, soft-fingered Librarians, bewildered travelers. The Icarus certainly took no effort to find, its sleek, streamlined gondola decidedly out of place among its peers. Kay paused and took a breath of the clear, cold air, grateful that she had remembered to button her coat before she'd gotten off the elevator. She hefted her satchel back onto her shoulder and stepped out onto the worn wooden skyways, each step making a thud against the ancient oak. She jostled past a pair of porters, some huge glass-and-metal thing slung between them; deep inside it an yellow-green spark still flickered. Kay resisted the urge to stop them and peer at whatever the thing was, but she still goggled as they bustled past. A hostler and his very nervous charge knickered and whinnied their way along the catwalk towards a large elevator, each step clattering with nervousness.

Her steps took her though a curved piece of catwalk, right near the nerve center of the whole operation. A squat, dark building at the center of a dazzling cobweb made of speaking tubes and ropes, brass and leather and hemp corkscrewed through pulleys and held on shining hooks from whatever surface would hold them. A dozen people worked with furious purpose inside, shouted into the bright horns of the speaking tubes, tugged on a levers to change a sign a hundred strides away. Two figures stood outside the command center, one tall, one short, and Kay recognized both of them.

"Afternoon, Mister Lake," Kay called out as she approached, "You joining us on this little adventure, then?" She looked at the young woman in Lake's company, short of stature and with a fierce cast to her soft, otherwise inviting features. One of Kay's dark eyebrows rose as she took in the rest of the woman, in particular the way her outfit squeezed certain things together.

"Why, Miss Hartz," Kay said, mock surprise in her voice, "I daresay the ship will wait until you're finished getting dressed. Unless you're that eager to depart, of course."

[Vinsanity]

Old Friends, Old Past, New Times

"Welcome Kael, to Baffin Bay!"

Kele froze as he gazed over the massive expansion of ships all inter-connected with bridges and flocking with a variety of different types of people. Between the large masts and all the intricate details each captain to each ship had put into their own beauty was remarkable. It reminded kele of how his people dressed in accordance preparing for battle. His people would paint themselves with intricate designs on their bodies to sport their legacy as a tribe and to show who they were on the battle field. kele saw there wasn't much difference between the sky fairing people and his people who walk Ochil. Kele turned back around to his captain after hearing a name that wasn't promptly given to him before use, which threw him off a bit to which he didn't know if the captain was referring to him or not.

"Kael?"

The captain had a smile on his face as if it was a clever name he had just came up with to give Kele.

"Yeah, don't like it? We need a more traditional name than what your people called you, it isn't that far off is it?"

Kele didn't quite understand the reasoning behind it, but he was just rewarded and given the chance to live by this man so he just nodded and looked back at the vast airship empire.

"It's an incredible sight isn't it? Well being as how your an officer aboard this ship Kael, I need you to escort me to The Harlot’s Wrath, I have business with a very old friend there."

Kele looked back once more at his captain and nodded his head,

"What kind of business?"

"Nothing too serious, just catching up and what not."

Kele finally moved from where he was standing and made his way to the center of the airship as the crew had been bustling around tending to the ropes and knots along with preparing everything for departure off the ship. With everything they had looted over the passed few months, they were about to sell here and make a good buck on top of the coins they've collected from their raids as well. It was a great day being a pirate who was alive and settled in Baffin Bay.

"Well Kael, lets take our leave, first I will address the men, go tend to the dropping of the bridge and make sure the fools catch the port."

Kele headed off as the voice of his captain silenced a majority of the men working, the speech began, and it was the captain reviewing the last voyage the crew had just been apart of. He also gave them the option to depart or stay on the ship after all the affairs in Baffin Bay were settled. The captain would get one man to take roll of who was staying and who was going, and then hold a recruiting session within three of the most populated bars and locations in Baffin Bay to repopulate the men lost, if any.

Kele finished with helping the men drop the bridge into the right spot as it caught onto port and the men began to file off the ship to go attend to their own needs. Kele however had his orders and being foreign to this type of living he didn't exactly know what to expect. He figured being as close to the captain as possible, a man of great knowledge or so it seemed of such places as Baffin Bay would be the best course of action he could follow. Soon the captain made his way to Kele's side,

"Shall we make our leave?"

"Yes sir, I will be right behind you."

The captain began walking and Kele was adjacent to the right of his shoulder with about a leg spand apart from his captain.

"You can walk next to me Kele, there is much to discuss on what you are going to do when we walk in. I know this is all new to you, so you must conduct yourself as though you've done this a thousand times."

"Yes sir,"

At this point Kele had closed the gap and was now side by side with his superior.

"The man who owns this ship, is one of the greatest air pirates to of ever sailed the high heavens, his name is Lucas...Lucas Greybeard. Although I am not sure what has become of his stature I know that this man has enough stories to fill an entire days time. He has more knowledge of the pirate life than the majority of pirate captains you'll see floating about in Baffin Bay, he however also hasn't seen the evolution of the outside world from Baffin Bay due to his complacent nature in staying docked here. So like I said, I do not know of what has become of him mentally or physically but respect him for if not who he is, respect what he was. Now with that aside, when we walk in you will drop to my rear to my right, I will do all the talking, you will have none, and keep that fire lit in your eyes, be suspicious of anyone and everyone on board. I am an old friend of Lucas but will not know the men who have populated his decks. You will stay close but not too close for comfort, do you understand?"

Kele allowed all the information to soak in for a few moments before he would reply with the acknowledgement of understanding. Upon being told to keep the fire lit in his eyes he could feel all of the faces in Baffin Bay staring upon him. Kele knew he stood out like a sore thumb, dark olive tan complexion, with a very different hair style than the rest of those occupying Baffin Bay, along with his orange reddish eyes that breathed beneath his eye lids and seemed to fuel his appearance in allowing others to create him as this walking monster that did not belong. Not even in a pirates world.

"Yes captain, I understand."

"Good."

It was only a few more turns and paces before the Harlot's Wrath was in sight, you could tell due to its appearance. It looked like the only ship in Baffin Bay that looked its age. It was in a rough condition, which could be accounted for its inactivity in the air except for staying port at Baffin Bay.

"Ready?"

"Yes sir."

Kele nodded and dropped back behind his captain. There was a bridge that was on a incline up to the ships top deck from Baffin Bay. A few pirates inhabited the deck but nothing for concern or alarm and they were all keeping to themselves or with whatever group of other pirates they were conversing with. His captain's goal at this point was too seek out Mr. Greybeard, Kele had no idea what the man looked like so his eyes were pretty useless in that regard, but his eyes observed and remained quite open so that he could take in all the movements of the inhabitants aboard. Nothing was getting in between him and his captain. Especially nothing with a dangerous point.

"There he is!"

The Captain spotted Greybeard's back to them, it looked as if Greybeard was in a very staggered mood. The ship held no emotion, as did none of the people on board. Kele could only come to the conclusion that this man Greybeard would probably lack the same thing. It was eerie, and there was something about the ship that seemed to drain any type of motivation you may of had before getting on it.

They picked up the pace until the captain was only a short distance away,

"At last, Mr. Lucas Greybeard, Captain of the Great Harlot's Wrath, and Number one air pirate to of ever sailed the heaven's, what became of you my old friend?"

[Xartarin]

Of course it wasn't an excavation. After undoubtedly holding up the meeting by packing for a fossil hunt, Lithia had to make another trip back home to dispose of her shovel, brushes, spades, lantern, and a bunch of other junk to replace it with a magnifying glass and some other tools for authenticating historical documents. Which was a lot less fun.

Exhausted but dreading the thought of missing the ship, Lithia wearily stumbled through the Cloud Walk, looking around at the airships. They all looked pretty much the same to her, but if her memory was correct they were meant to fly an airship called "The Icarus". Were the airships supposed to have the names written on the sides? Were there going to be signs? So far Lithia didn't see anything that obvious in the area. It was just a bunch of flying boats and an assortment of scouts and librarians.

This wouldn't be the first time Lithia had ever gone out of the library on an expedition, but this one seemed more serious somehow. She'd never been to Baffin Bay specifically, no fossils to be found there. This document was far more important than the usual relics she helped dig up as well. Though it was probably a hoax, this sheet of paper could verify the existence of a legendary lost city. As proud as Lithia was to be selected to be part of that, there was something in the back of her mind that felt like things weren't quite right. This whole situation sounded like it could be significantly more dangerous than she was comfortable with. Which is to say, it could be slightly dangerous. They might get mugged! That would be awful.

Lithia went around asking some people about the location of the Icarus. The scouts tended to be a bit cold, so after a few tries she asked some librarians. Although it seemed like no one was keeping track of ships other than their own, there weren't too many ships currently docked and Lithia was able to find her's by process of elimination. Lithia noted that, in retrospect, she should've checked the sleek, stylish, bullseye-esque boat first. Trying not to bump into anyone, Lithia hurried through the catwalk before stopping when Kay and Lake were ahead.

Lake was obviously a stranger, but Lithia recognized Kay immediately. They hadn't had the opportunity to speak before being sent to gather their things, but Lithia was still relieved to know that someone she knew would be on this trip, especially someone that was as confident and strong as Kay. She might even be able to hold her own against a scout in a fight, though hopefully her combat skills wouldn't be needed for this trip.

Lithia wanted to talk to Kay (even if she didn't know what to say at the moment), but Kay was talking to Lake at the moment. Keeping her head down and trying not to draw Kay's attention, Lithia walked past them and headed up to the ship proper. She'd get opportunities to say "hi" later, and she didn't want to be scolded for being on the catwalk when the ship was supposed to take over. Besides, there was nowhere to sit on that catwalk, and Lithia desperately needed to get off her feet and set down her things.