She had been waiting over a decade for this. Ever since she'd heard tales of The Consortium Dihala had known that this was what she wanted; to be in command of ship, crew at her side, the wind at their backs. There was no telling how many things she'd stolen, lies that had been told, hearts broken, and money that had been spent on this endeavor, but it had all been worth it.

One of the informants had come to her about two months ago telling her about a ship that was coming to port in Shyllshara and would be vulnerable. It was perfect. A frigate in good condition, new solar sails, and a crew prone to drunken parties where they would be incapacitated. It would be hers as long as she could pull off the feat of stealing it. And so Dihala began to plan her heist of stealing what was then called "The Sky's Siren," and before long the plan was set in motion. Dihala would board the ship as a passenger, posing as a tourist wanting to see the ancient ruins of Shyllshara, wait until they were on the planet and the crew got drunk, and then steal the ship right out from under their noses. It was fool-proof! Or at least that's what she thought. What the good captain hadn't planned on was a dryad aboard the crew taking a liking to her and starting to follow her around like a puppy. Honestly, who got attached to tieflings like that? At any rate the Dryad had caught Dihala in the midst of her heist, and she'd been forced to lie on the spot. She told a story about how this ship (which was brand new) had been in her family for generations, and that these horrible pirates (merchants) had stolen it from them many years ago (brand new ship), and she'd been tracking them down ever since. If they could work together, Dihala would offer her a place on her crew and they'd sail the stars exploring together (she was going to drop her off on the first moon they reached).

Much to her surprise, the dryad believed her and kept believing her. Even after she let it slip that she was actually a pirate herself. She believed the next lie too. And the next... And the next. Wow, this dryad really had no street smarts. Well, long story short, Dihala started feeling really guilty about lying to this incredibly innocent creature, and decided not to abandon her on the first moon they reached for fear of her not surviving. Not to mention she actually turned out to be a really good navigator? Who knew acorns made such reliable guides?

Finally they made it back to The Consortium base on Iyananor and Dihala began the process of making the ship "officially" hers. They forged some paperwork, had her sign it, had a professional carpenter come in and change the name on the ship to The Wayward Maiden (Dihala thought it was fitting), and there you have it! She had her very own ship to captain and run as she saw fit. All that was left was to find a crew, which wasn't exactly a struggle until it came to hiring general deckhands, powder monkeys, and the like. That's when she remembered her old favorite band of faeries and decided to have them come fill in this role.*

The rest of the crew was filled in easily enough. There were a few odd characters that tried to sign up, and it had taken quite the silver tongue to turn them away peacefully, but nevertheless she was left with what she thought to be a rather intriguing bunch. There was her quartermaster; a man by the name of Valyrim. Bit bland and to the point in her opinion, but he seemed honest enough. Ironically enough she respected that honesty. He did weird her out with talk about an angel, but eh. So what the guy was a bit off his rocker? Speaking of off their rocker, the engineer she hired was most definitely more than a little bit mad. However she'd seen some of his work, and it had been very impressive. As long as him and the pixies didn't blow anything up it would all be fine. Oh, and then there was the cook. The cook... Dihala was slightly worried the she-orc (Morag?) was going to end up murdering her one of these days, but no one had wanted to challenge her for the cook's position so Dihala had no choice. Also she made a mean hydra stew. The master gunner seemed fairly unproblematic at the very least, which was a refreshing change of pace.

Oh and of course Dihala couldn't forget their centaur medic. Seemed to have a shady and tragic past of some kind, but what else was new? Perhaps one of the more unique crew members though was some sort of... Genasi goliath? It was a very odd mix, but he was charming nonetheless. Dumb as dirt (no pun intended), but very endearing and seemed to do his job as bosun well enough. The navigator was none other than the dryad she'd picked up on Shyllshara.

So here they were. A motley crew in search of fortune and adventure with just enough brain cells between them to keep the ship running. At the moment they were all readying the ship for takeoff, and Dihala herself was pacing back and forth on deck trying to keep an eye on things and help where need be. It wasn't quite time for her to take the helm yet. They were just loading the last of their supplies, then they'd be releasing the sails and making their way out of port. She could already feel the solar winds lapping at her hair, beckoning her further into the black unknown that they called space. She had waited so long for this. They were finally going to be on their way, exploring whatever secrets the darkest reaches of the galaxy held.

*

Kaladan could feel a familiar thrill running through him, though he kept his expression fairly neutral, at the prospect of returning to the familiar star filled skies he traveled with his mother. They may potentially be experiencing unexplored space, which is one of the whole reasons he signed on with The Consortium. It had been a dream of his ever since he was a kid, but it never really seemed possible until now. It had been some time since he’d had the opportunity to travel with an actual crew that all wanted to be there, and didn’t plan on stabbing each other in the back at the first available opportunity. He did have a few concerns about the powder monkeys, he wasn’t sure about the competency of faeries when it came to loading and firing cannons, but the Captain seemed fine with it so who was he to complain. As long as they got the job done and listened well enough, but he’d have to keep a close eye on them for the time being, just to be sure. He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with the rest of the crew as they were all in the process of getting the remaining supplies on the ship, but they appeared trustworthy enough.

The crew certainly appeared to be an interesting bunch, all different races from all different parts of the system. He could safely say he'd never met a Dryad or a Genasi before so they'd certainly be interesting to get to know. He kept to his thoughts, quietly humming a tune under his breath as he casually explored the ship that would serve as his home for however long the Captain decided to keep him signed on.

He walked across the gun deck doing the final checks of the supplies that they had, making sure they hadn’t forgotten anything important and that all the necessities were in their proper place. The last thing they needed was an explosion going off because the gunpowder didn’t get stored in the proper place. Everything appeared to be in order including the sugar loving faeries hanging around. Walking up onto the main deck he could see the captain pacing around observing the going’s about on deck. He found an out of the way place to lean against the side of the ship and watch the remaining supplies and crew members find their places on the ship.


From the first impressions he got of the crew here, they’d certainly have some interesting tales to tell. Seems like each and every person on the ship is trying to get away from something or make something of themselves, but he wasn’t about to judge. Avi did a quick mental inventory of all of his medical supplies and found them to be in good order. He grabbed a few leftover supplies and found a home for them in the various secured cabinets and bins around the med-bay. He’d already had to patch up a deckhand’s broken fingers after she lost her grip setting down a heavy crate, but it was nice to know that his skills wouldn’t go to waste on the ship.

He picked up his belt from one of the side tables and set about placing the proper supplies in their proper pouches. Despite his healing magic he did like to have whatever he might need for smaller injuries that were bound to happen in the hourly goings on of a ship of this size. Burns, small broken bones, or the occasional black eye from some mess hall brawl. He’d seen it all as well as a hell of a lot worse. His supplies packed, he secured the belt and made his way on deck, taking care on the steps. People always assumed it was easier to have four legs rather than two, more stability or some nonsense, but stairs continued to prove that theory wrong.

He walked over to the dockside railing, watching the hustle and bustle of the port. He rested his arms on the rail and allowed himself a moment to relax. He could see their Captain keeping an eye on the deck and briefly wondered exactly how much stress she was under. Trying to get the ship set for sailing, learning about a new crew, and a new ship all at the same time. He shook his head, he was good with being the medic and nothing else, but he made a mental note to check in with her and make sure everything was going okay. Returning his attention to the docks he waited for the ship to set sail.

“ One screw. Two screws. And that’s it!”

Barnabum wiggled the spanner out from the bolt, wiping a river of sweat off his brow. The room they’d housed the rune engine in was cramped with mold festering cracks and cobwebs in the rafters. The lack of ventilation had turned the interior of the room into a soupy mist, as hisses of coolant and coughs of smoke punctuated the silence of his work.

Overall, it was tiring, unpleasant and horrible work.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tightening the last of the screws and checking the pressure gauge one last time, Barnabum began to walk out of the boiling engine room, carrying his toolbox with his gloved hand. Closing the door behind him, Barnabum climbed up onto the deck of the Sky Maiden, brushing the dust off his pants. The last batches of cargo were still being loaded onto the ship by the band of fae they’d hired.

As he strode through the deck, he gave small faint nods to each crew member that was situated there. He made a mental note to converse with the master gunner later about his ideas for augmenting the large-bore cannons with gravity accelerators.Overall, it was an odd bunch that he’d decided to join up with but you couldn’t count on a rigorous application process when you took up piracy as a career. The funds would be worth it, though. It had to be.

Eventually, Barnabum leaned against the solar-sail mast and took out a small moth-eaten handbook, flipping open to a brand new page. “ Now, that sure as heck won’t work.” Barnabum playfully mused to himself, crossing out the figure and writing a new sketch of his proposed engine, “ Or will it?” . His eyes flickered across each and every hypothetical measurement, equations dancing in his mind to ensure his prototype would tread the line between failure and success. He continued on this tangent for a little while before noticing the captain in the corner of his eye. He snapped his book shut and stumbled over towards her hurriedly. A maniac crescent grin split his face in half as he took out a sheet of parchment with scrawlings on it, presenting it to Dihala as if it was show and tell.

“ Ah, Captain! I’va made some absolutely scienterrific modifications to the ship’s engine. I calculate….hm….let’s see here...lots of ones. Lots of twos…..Lots of zeroes...That’s good. I’ve managed to darn near increase forward thrust in her by a factor of 1.32 and reduce vacuum drag by a good ol’ 1.65 peeerrrcent!” The gnome giggled excitedly, taking a moment to wipe a smear of grease off his beard before trailing off again. “ I do have some ideas about bolstering our forward propulsion engines, though, this require a significant quantity of unstable isotope of mithril for - “

Barnabum paused for a moment, realizing at how cruddy he was at delivering pitches, before rewording his suggestions to convert their sky-ship into a hyper light cruiser instead of a nuclear meltdown.

“Well, shoot, I can see the problem wit’ tha last idea. That’s just fer your consideration.” Barnabum once more began to return to his rant before he frowned, his face curdling like sour milk. He looked over Dihala’s shoulder and shouted “ Oi, gerroff mah shrooms! You’re supposed to be loading the cargo, not sampling the cargo!”

He jabbed his finger towards a pixie of the Joy Division who looked like a murderer caught in the middle of a crime scene, cigar dangling out of his mouth.

“ You damnable flower spawn” Barnabum snarled out loud as he ripped the cigar out from the . Instead of reprimanding the pixie further, he took out a fresh cigar out from the box and shoved it roughly into the pixie’s hands.

“ You’re smoking it the wrong way! Here, let me show you how to properly enjoy one of these cigars.”

Barnabum took out a small pocket knife and cut off the end of the cigar, showing the pixie how to grip it properly and how not to stick it in his mouth. After the short demonstration, Barnabum lighted his and the pixie’s carefully, the ends of their cigars glowing orange bright. The pixie sucked in the fumes and blinked several times, eyes dilating and staring upwards at the sky. Judging by the dazed bloodshot gazes they were both giving Dihala, it was evident that they were high as a kite.

Valyrim felt the lightness of elation as he surveyed the the hull. He had been working towards this for decades doing things he would rather have forgotten to lead up to it. He could foresee their travels being quite interesting, to say the least, especially what with the clan of dragon rider pixies clamoring about and the cheery but naive dryad. The captain seemed to be more than capable, though, and for the time being he opted to not concern himself much with it. When faced with a future of freedom to see the stars and someday sharing the skies with the galaxy, he couldn’t have summoned up any real ire anyway.

The stores were booming with the sound of teams of faeries carrying loads he was frankly surprised they could handle under his watchful eye. He stepped gingerly around the ones scurrying towards the exit to carry more loads, having learned his lesson once one he narrowly missed squealed indignantly and promptly bit his hand. He hadn’t thought they could jump very high, but the angry tooth marks on his hand taught him otherwise. He paused now and then to check the cargo and pulled out his notebook, muttering the numbers to himself before calling out whatever supplies still hadn’t been brought down by the Joy Division. Surprisingly, the pixies were grudgingly willing to listen to him as long as he maintained the steady supply of sugar in the corner of the room.

In a way it was a grounding if simple task. He would rather not take the chance of leaving any necessities behind due to disorganization and besides, it helped to channel his elation into focus. His eyes flitted from the pages to the stores as he paced belowdecks until his meticulous inspection was complete. “Thank you for your services, but I’m sure we won’t be needing anything else.” A pixie pouted, gesturing at the sugar. He levelled her with an unimpressed stare. “I am aware of the fact that you already snuck two extra bags in with the rest of the cargo. No.” The pixie stomped away, throwing a fit that was greatly mitigated by her size.

He watched her leave, safely out of biting range, and followed suit, making his way out of the hull and onto the deck where the solar breeze made his clothes flutter and his heart sing. Being there made it all the more real. Although the vision he had had of the ship had been darker and lit by starlight, he saw the same wheel and figurehead, made clearer by day. He allowed himself to ruminate in his thoughts for a moment longer before his eyes landed on a pixie who was clearly high enough to touch the heavens. He raised an eyebrow but elected to ignore it for the time being, instead approaching and matching strides with the pacing tiefling.

“Supplies are fully loaded, captain. Gods willing, we should be ready to sail any minute now.”

"Easy now with the cargo, y'all! Capin' ain't gonna be any pleased if she finds only broken or dinged supplies once we get off the ground!" A voice that sounded like an avalanche roaring its way down a mountainside boomed over a group of the pixie deckhands that were bickering over a crate of sugars that was set to go to the ship's kitchen quarters. The owner of the thunderous voice was no other than the ship's giant of a bosun, Clay. He offered the little fairy folks a stern look that quickly melted into a warm smile as he kneeled down and scooped up the box of sweets, settling it onto his shoulder with ease before letting one of his meaty mitts slip into his pocket and fish out a nice chunk of rock candy. The stone covered Goliath gave the candy a quick squeeze and caused it to break into a small handful of shards that he happily handed to each of the pint-sized pirates. "Y'all get yer sweet tooth fix with these then load up the last few boxes, alright? Too easy!" Clay said with a warm laugh as he stood back to his full staggering height and hauled the crate of sugars the rest of the way onto the ship, leaving the little group of tiny barbarians to fight over their newly awarded rock candy.

It was hard not to notice Clay as he made his way around the ship, his towering size set aside the behemoth of a man filled the halls with a cacophony of off-key whistling that did little for the moods of the pixie workers that lugged the supplies alongside him. Despite all of the looks and small comments he spurred from the others, Clay was far too happy to pay them any of the mind he did have. He was about to set across the stars with a crew of honest people and make more money than he had ever seen before, what was not to be excited about? All this joyous energy was practically radiating off of the big lug as he helped lug round after round of supplies onto the ship, eventually seeming to have loaded the ship by himself as he constantly had to break up fights between the other ship hands with quick bribes of sweets.

It was once the last of the cargo was safely accounted for and secured that Clay made his way to the deck and caught sight of the rest of his less vertically challenged crewmates, a wide grin planting itself on his stone face. "Hey there y'all! Well, guess I should be sayin' ahoy now, right?" The living mountain said with a hearty laugh and snort at his own joke before waving it off. "But really just wanted to say can't wait to get this goin'. Ya seem like really fine folk." Clay would say in a tone to dripped with genuine excitement before his eyes fell onto his new violet shaded leader. "Oh I'm sorry Capin' probably should of told ya first, but all hands and supplies are secured and ready fer sailin'. Won't let it happen again." The giant's tone would grow a little more formal as he took his hat off quickly and stood up a little more rigidly, it would seem that he was trying to make a good first impression.

---

"Captain!" Fel shouted as she launched herself onto the upper deck from the darkness of the crew quarters. Several pixies wheeled away from her with annoyed shouts, but they knew better than to try to lecture the dryad. For every statement they were met with seven questions and the tiny creatures had quickly grown weary of her endless curiosity. Normal sized crew members presented a bigger problem, but Fel deftly avoided them as she raced forward. Stairs remained a mystery to the dryad and like life she preferred to take them in great, leaping bounds heedless of what awaited her on the other side.

"Captain!" Fel shouted again at the top of her lungs, completely oblivious to anything other than the tiefling captain. "Good news! I have good news, Captain. Great news even. I have consulted the acorns and it would seem that now would be an ideal time to depart."

With her feet firmly planted on the upper deck, Fel paused for a moment to listen to voices of the Wayward Maiden. The voices the others did not hear. The trees. The forest of magical trees that had built the ship. Normally Fel was against cutting down trees in order to build any thing, much less a pirate ship, but the planks seemed happy as they were. The ship buzzed with amendable arcane vibrations that left Fel humming happily as she practically danced across the deck. She felt happy. She felt at peace. She could feel the starlight touching her across the darkness of the stellar seas. She could see adventure on the horizon.

"The ship is pleased as well," Fel continued in an excited voice as she gestured towards the star. The azure robe that she had wrapped herself in danced with every exaggerated movement of her lithe limbs. Her summer's smile was contagious and full of mirth. "The Council of Planks have wisely decreed that it is high time for the ship to sail. The forest stands with you."

It was only after she had delivered her message that Fel realized the Captain was not alone. She struggled to remember the names of the other crew members. She had not had time to invent new names for them. Appropriate names. Better names. Not silly mortal names that said nothing about the person. Fae names. Names that meant something. She was excited already. The Captain had managed to hire an excellent crew. They were all very interesting which was the most important criteria for the dryad.

The voices of the ship whispered and Fel's face fell with growing panic. She had only recently learned what meetings were, but they seemed important. She wasn't sure exactly what the ship meant, the magical trees were always fond of ambiguous poetry.

"Oh no, I'm not late, am I? Was there another meeting?" Fel as she grabbed a hold of the Captain's hands. "Was there wine? I love wine. We should have some wine! Right now!"

Just as the captain finished her little internal monologue she was bombarded by several people. Barney had come up and started rattling on about something to do with the engine, and somewhere through the confusing mess that was Barney's speech pattern she was able to grasp that he'd improved them in some way and had an idea of how to improve something else, but before she could respond he started shouting at one of the pixies and went over there- evidently to teach it how to properly get high. Well that was a force for chaos.

"Thanks, Barney, she said simply. There wasn't really time to say anything more before her quartermaster was there, and he was followed closely by their resident genasi. The big rock seemed to be a bit flustered and eager to make a good impression, and Dihala would be lying if she said she didn't find it at least somewhat endearing.

"Thank you, Valyrim," she replied to the quartermaster before turning back to the genasi. "I'm glad you're excited. I am too, and thank you for informing me about the supplies. You're doing a great job-"

She was cut off by the slightly faint call of "captain!"
Oh no.

Prancing her way to the upper deck was none other than their navigator, who like everyone else, came straight for her and started rattling off about something or another. Evidently they needed to set sail, and the... The council of planks was in agreement... Oh boy. There had been many times in her life when Dihala had felt like she'd gone mad, but none of them quite compared to the feeling of hearing Fel speak and then realizing she was actually going to listen to what this nutcase said they should do. And why, might you ask? Because somehow she had proven that this stupid acorn theory worked. And now apparently there was a council of planks. It really felt like something out of a child's imagination, but she supposed that for right now, she'd just have to deal with it.

"... Right. Uh... Let's hold off on the wine for now. We'll have some with dinner. No, you didn't miss a meeting, everyone is just doing their jobs and informing me when they finish them. Speaking of which..." Dihala peeled her hands from the dryad and then made her way up to the helm of the ship. Excitement was electrifying the air, and it seemed like the whole ship was feeling it. This would be the crew's maiden voyage together. It was a special moment in time and Dihala hoped that they would all remember it fondly for a long time, no matter what adventures awaited them.

"Lads!" she called out, getting everyone's attention. "Stow the gangplank, hoist the sails, and weigh anchor. We're about to be on our way."

She spoke a little quieter, but still projected her voice a bit towards their quartermaster. "Do make sure none of the pixies get caught in a rope, please. We don't need another incident with chief Boom Boom."

Kaladan watched from his comfortable position, out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the deck, as the vast majority of the crew made their way up to where their captain stood. The mechanic, bosun, quartermaster, and navigator all appeared to be vying for her attention as they prepped to get under way. An amused smile worked it's way onto his face as he watched her address each of them, this was certainly going to be an interesting group of people to work with. They seemed reliable enough, judging by the fact that they all seemed to be providing assurances that the entire ship was prepped for setting sail.

He took a moment to ponder about the member of the crew he could see: the quartermaster seemed calm enough, which would be a good balance to the more...eccentric types on the ship. Their dwarven mechanic appeared to be an interesting character, and he figured that he'd probably need to work with him on their cannons; that'd be an interesting conversation judging by the quiet ramblings he'd heard. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to understand half the things that he said. Their unique looking bosun seemed to have a way with the small powder monkeys, despite their obvious size difference. Though being made of stone probably had its benefits against their tiny, sharp teeth. He'd never met a dryad before, so actually getting to know their navigator should prove to be an enlightening experience. If he could keep up with her rapid speech. He certainly looked forward to getting to know all the members of the crew better. It had been quite some time since he'd actually joined a crew he wanted to be on.

His meandering thoughts were cut off at the shout from the Captain. The excitement he'd felt before kicking back up as the crew began to rush around and do as she said. He kept a close eye on the goings on, making sure that no one got caught underfoot and none of them needed any aid in prepping to set off. The pixies were surprisingly quick and efficient when it came to all of these things. He moved to stand at the base of the stairs just in case one of them needed something. He hoped they didn't need his particular brand of help, since that mostly involved hitting something with a sword or cannon balls, but you never know. He glanced up towards the Captain and gave her a nod and a sharp-toothed grin as the sails unfurled and the anchors were drawn up.


Avi immediately brightened at the call from the captain for them to set sail. He trotted over to and carefully made his way up the stairs to the helm, hooves clopping across the wooden boards of the deck. He took a spot among the group, standing significantly taller than most of the crew surrounding them, except for the genasi. "Med-bay is prepped for anything Captain," he directed towards the tiefling at the helm, "Hopefully we don't need it anytime soon."

He quickly took in the nearby pixie that appeared to be high as the tips of their sails along with their mechanic, and shook his head slightly with both amusement and exasperation. He gave a polite nod to the other members of the crew that were still gathered nearby. Once they were under way he was sure they would have some time to sit down and get to know each other a bit more.

The clattering and clanking noises of the sails unfurling, the anchors rising, and the gangplank being stowed were music to his ears. It'd been some time since he'd had the chance to travel by ship and the prospect of doing so with such an interesting group of people had him smiling brightly towards the stars. The sails catching and billowing outwards forced him to plant his feet more firmly on the deck, if only for a moment, as the movement evened out. He was excited to see what new adventures awaited them among the unexplored parts of the universe.

“Yoooooooooo, dwarf. That’s a funny little beard you got there.” The pixie giggled, waving his hands in what could be misinterpreted as Treant sign language. He took another puff of the cigar, pupils crooked in opposite directions, as he stared dazedly out into the space port. Barnabum gingerly took the cigar from the pixie and took a puff, wheezing as the dry smoke entered his lungs and made him briefly retch for a second.

Ah, this was the life. Hanging out and smoking mushrooms with pixie sailors.

Unfortunately, pixie constitution’s didn’t quite hold him to gnomish constitutions. One of the pixie sailors didn’t take quite as well as his other compatriots, his head tilted upwards and walking around in circles repeatedly.

“ All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad.”

Barnabum perked up at Dihala’s command and rubbed his hands together excitedly. Finally, they could get out of this blasted rock and finally set sail into the far outer reaches of this quadrant. He stood up, knees a little wobbly from chomping down 3 mushroom cigars, before replying back.

“ Aight, c’ptain. I’ll just go downstairs and warm her up. Don’t want her dying of a stroke on her first voyage afér all.”

The pixie who had been staring upwards suddenly shouted.

“ BARNEY! I need you to tell me that I can have the rest of your cigars!”

“ You can have the rest of my -”

“SHUT UP, YOU’RE NOT MEH DAD!”

The pixie then returned back to his routine.

“ All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad. All these stars make a salad.”

He might have given him a little too much dried shroom. Poor lad. He didn’t develop the taste for it yet. Barnabum gently picked up the pixie by the shoulders who was still muttering incessantly to himself and set him on top of a barrel full of pickled dloops. He then made his way again down towards the engine room.

“ Come on, old girl. Don’t be temperamental with me.” The gnome murmured, finding the button, and resting his finger against it. He sucked in a breathe and pressed it. Nothing for a moment. Then, the old engine began to whirr to life. Barnabum wiped off the tang of grease off his hands, grinning, as he felt the Maiden’s heartbeat in the palm of his hand.

Outside, the thrusters began to belch green smoke as the Wayward Maiden shuddered, the runic fields on her hull blinking with energy as arcane energy soared through conduits and reignited the sails, now shimmering with golden light.

Valyrim eyed the chaotic flurry of activity on deck and looked up to the sky, silently praying for tranquility. He turned back to the captain at her request, wincing inwardly. The idea of dealing with an irate pixie was less than appealing. “Understood, captain.” He raised a hand in a polite if stiff greeting to the dryad-Felosial, if he wasn’t mistaken-although he guessed she hardly cared for social niceties if she understood them at all.

The elf turned away to take up a better vantage point on the quarterdeck, returning the nod of medic who for his part seemed to be one of few on the crew of a serene disposition. He paused, eyed catching on a pixie who had somehow managed to hang himself upside down in the ropes by his legs. He sighed.

“Do I want to ask?” The pixie paused his wriggling to grin sheepishly. “At least you have some shame, I suppose.” Despite his scolding, he untangled the faerie gently, catching him in his hand and lowering him to the ground. The pixie chirped gratefully and gave Valyrim a perturbing sharp-toothed smile before scurrying belowdecks. The elf watched him for a moment before leaning on the rail, watching for any more inexplicable predicaments.

His attention was torn away by the now familiar shuddering of the deck and golden light of the sails. He smiled faintly, shaking his head. It wasn’t exactly what he had pictured but at any rate, he was here.

---

Fel clapped with unabashed glee as the ship rose into the skies. She loved a lot of things. Perhaps too many things. Or so she had been told. Material world creatures had such quaint ideas about relationships. But she reserved a special, boundless measure of love for sailing the stellar seas. She suspected that she would never get bored of it. Each journey was magical. Each league of stars traveled was special. It filled her with endless joy to feel the solar winds as the sails caught them. The ship was pleased. The Council of Planks was pleased. The crew was pleased. And most importantly the Captain was pleased!

The dryad offered a quaint, theatrical bow before she left the Captain and the crew remembers that remained on the idly on the deck. She had a place to be. A spot even. Assuredly she had great faith in the helmsman. She believed in him. But as navigator she had a duty. A special duty according to the Captain. The acorns could change at any moment. The solar currents could shift without warning. And she had to be ready. She had to be able to offer guidance to the crew. It was all so wonderful!

Fel appeared with great grace at the bow of the ship, leaning precariously over the edge. With a sudden pirouette, she turned and released a dozen acorns from hear hands, cackling as they sailed through the air. Fel wrapped the bottom of her robe around herself in a gust of motion as she knelt on the deck and carefully studied the pattern that the scattered acorns formed. Whispering quietly she imagined the eldritch and ancient constellations that the acorns really represented. A light solar wind was promised, but the current would be stable, at least until they cleared the gravity of the solar system.

"Helmsman! Steer true, seven acorns starboard, five acorns windward!" Fel shouted happily, collecting the acorns before she return to her position at the bow dangling over the bow of the ship. She wasn't completely sure the others understood the intricacies of acorn-based navigational theory, but surely there was no better time to learn than on the job? She was an expert after all, they could have no better teacher.

"Thank you, Mister Starcaller," the captain replied to their medic.

The ship buzzed and got just a little more chaotic as her orders were carried out. Pixies flitted to and fro storing whatever last bits had been forgotten, the gravity anchor was being hoisted up, ropes were tied off and double-checked, the high pixie was shooed away from potential danger- and finally the sails were unfurled. It was a beautiful sort of music. Like the sound of a flock of birds ascending to the sky, their sails fluttered and and flapped as they opened and began to shimmer with solar energy. There was a brief and electric moment where everything fell silent. Dihala's grip on the helm tightened, the excitement threatening to make her squeal like a child opening a present.

Then the ship lurched forward.

She'd grown accustomed to their dryad's form of coordinates and quickly adjusted the helm as instructed. Seven acorns starboard, five windward. As the ship picked up speed the lights of Iyananor began to fade and dim, and eventually the planet itself faded as well. The sails were producing a low hum (as they should be), none of the ropes had come loose, and no one was tossed overboard, so all in all Dihala was calling it a successful departure. They were now on their way out of the solar system and in a month's time would be in unexplored territory, on their way to riches and glory. Everything was going according to plan. Yes, this was going to go well.

After all what could go wrong?

Oh a lot. A lot could go wrong. The sails could die, they could be attacked, arrested, crash, explode, suffocate. They could get stranded on a hostile planet with no hope of escape, or they could stumble across some hidden gang hideout and get murdered. Someone could get space madness and try to take over the ship, slitting Dihala's throat in her sleep in order to rise to the rank of captain. They could decide they hated her and start a mutiny. That damned crazy old dwarf could have a horrible experiment go wrong that leaves all of them horribly disfigured for the rest of their lives. A star could go supernova right as they pass it and decimate the ship. Oh there was a never ending list of things that could go wrong, but Dihala was going to try to focus on what was going right. Their ship had taken flight and they were well on their way to fulfilling her- uh, the crew's dreams, they weren't broke (yet), no one on the crew hated her (yet), no one seemed like a terrible person (yet), they had plenty of supplies (for now), and everything was going well (for now). With this thought in mind Dihala locked in their heading and left the helm for a brief moment to triple check that everything had been stowed correctly.

"Mister Clay, all of the cargo still secure and undamaged after take off? I know how pesky that atmospheric turbulence can be. Also," she raised her voice a little bit, "if the quartermaster, navigator, and of course our dear mister Clay could join me at the helm in about twenty minutes after we're very well on our way, I'd be very much obliged. I'd like to discuss our destination."

Once the Sky Maiden had eventually reached an altitude high enough for a blind man to see the stars, Barney gave a wistful sign. His analytical mind yammered away at the back of his mind, pointing how the specific names of star systems that he was seeing, the location of various nebulas that buffeted the blackness of the cosmos and the paths of various comets that streaked across the night sky like migratory birds. The skyport soon became a speck in the distance.

Stardust looked beautiful from a skyship rather than through the suffocating guise of a planetary atmosphere. Barney briefly remembered an elf sorcerer who tried to enchant his corneas for a university project. He ended up being blinded for the next semester until a nearby cleric could provide their services. He had to thank the benefits of gnomish darkvision, though.

The Skyship swayed a little as it ascended, a bobbing lurch like a feather floating about in a gale. It was imperceptible to most of the crew but Barney frowned. He double checked to make sure that the engines wouldn’t hiccup. It was his finest work yet. For a newly built engine to have a slight malfunction in the first few hours…….The gnome checked over his shoulders to make sure no one was following him before sneaking down towards the engine room. Perhaps, he’d tightened the bolts too much or -

Uh oh.

“ KILL IT! KILL THE STAR DRAGON!” The pixie pirate along with several others were banging the engine with pieces of lumbar and their swords, slashing away at the assembly with all the fury their tiny bodies could muster. The engine was belching smoke and coughing, several nicks in the pressurised valves and tubes that connected it to the thrusters. The pixies eyes were bloodshot and the room smelt heavily of smoked mushrooms.

“ Alright, that’s it, ya little blighters.” Barnabas was picking up the pixies one by one and tossing them out of the engine room but it was too late. He then stared in horror at the mangled mess of the engine and began to pull on the roots of his hair. Oh, he should have never given those damn flowerspawns his supply of mushrooms. What was he thinking? What would the captian do if she found out? Nevermind that, the whole crew would die once the engine self-dest-

He paused for a moment. Why did he need to tell her in the first place? The mushroom fumes gave the air an electric tingle as he breathed it in, wondrous ideas flashing in his mind. Oh yes, he could improve the engine. He could make it even better than it was before.

“ Well,” He strapped on his googles and took out his trusty wrench. “ What the captain doesn’t know won’t harm her.” He rubbed his hands eagerly together as he pulled out a cobweb tattered box from the corner. Blowing the dust off, he clicked open the lock and opened it, the room filling with a nauseous green glow.

“ Besides, I’ve always wanted to experiment with radioactive fuel.”

As the (miraculously) functional chaos continued with what seemed to be only minor incident, Valyrim allowed himself a moment to be lost in the stars. He had traveled theough space a number of times but until now he had never let himself do so when he was about as significant to employers as a blade of grass. The Iron Maiden’s crew seemed as though it would prove to be more personable than hardened executives of shadowy conglomerates. As he stared out, part of him wished he had indulged more often. Even the horizons planetside didn’t hold a candle to the awestriking enormity of space and the stardust littering it. The vivid illusions of Cirrane’s finest couldn’t quite capture it, let alone the books he had spent much of his time in. He was jolted out of his unusually welcome distraction by the sound of acorns clattering on the ground.

Clearly, he had misjudged Fel’s abilties. They were in good hands if she knew the intricacies of acorn-based navigation. That at least was one worry quelled, although he got the impression that his concerns about the pixies and the engineer were rightly so. He may be certain he would get off of the ship alive but unharmed was no guarantee.

Your guidance would be greatly appreciated now. He pouted continued to survey the decks when no response from his angel came, fiddling with the charm that hung from his necklace. Later in the voyage, perhaps. It had been an eventful day, he reminded himself, and more would come soon enough. For now, he still had an obligation to the crew.

Speaking of, the ship had sailed a ways away from Iyananor. Per the captain’s orders, the elf made his way to the helm, taking care to avoid fairies and scattered acorns alike.