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Author Topic: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew  (Read 49277 times)

Offline Tyvaris

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Lark Ornnen took a deep swig from the frosty tankard of ale just as the balled fist caught him square in the jawline.  The bar interior span for what felt like an eternity in Lark's fleeting vision as he crashed upon the uneven wooden floor. The tankard of ale plastering patrons next to him in a froth of fermented barley. He had caught a faint glimpse of a white uniform in his spiraling fall and even though his senses were knocked awry by the blast he already knew his attacker could be none other than Captain Tellos Stormslade.  Lark spat blood and a molar from his mouth as he sat up on the alcohol stained floor rubbing his swelling cheek. Lark was astonished when Tellos offered him a hand.

"Is that how you welcome an old friend?" Lark gurgitated through his blood filled mouth as he accepted the outstretched arm and was pulled to his feet.

Tellos smirked mockingly and replied. "If you weren't an old friend it would of been a bullet. You whore-son wretch." The bearded naval officer smiled although it seemed to belie the other sinister thoughts that were veiled behind it.

"You violated the Privateer's code. That's something you can't do without being severely punished." Tellos pointed menacingly at the still wobbling Lark and said. "You are lucky I don't kill you right here for what you've taken from me." Tellos massaged his swelling knuckles and watched as Lark brushed at his ale drenched jacket waiting impatiently for Lark to speak.

"Why should I care about your Privateer code?" Lark asked seemingly oblivious to the fact that four more white uniformed privateers appeared behind the statuesque captain. "I'm not a privateer anymore. In fact I don't own a ship anymore." Lark said matter of factually as he spit a blob of coagulated blood from the side of his mouth.

"Don't play games with me Lar.  I've known you since the Kallic invasion.  I know you think your some kind of aeroship captain but that doesn't forgive you for being a thief. Even if you aren't a Privateer I know Aeros aren't scum like you."  Tellos turned to face his newly arrived crew members.  "You see Lar, I want what you took from me and if you don't give it back I'll make sure my boys here find another way to pay back your debt."

"I'd sure like to seem them try: Besides I don't have those worthless guns anymore.  Cheaply made, rusty steel jamming contraptions; I sold them to a trader from Fardeth for a keg of ale." Lar smiled as he watched Tellos' bearded face redden with anger.

"How dare you insult me. Those cylinder guns were the finest arms that my lineage have ever made. I know you still have them.  They're probably mounted on that hovering trash heap you call an Aeroship." Tellos bellowed the anger swelling inside him. "You have til the end of this week to get me those guns back. Even if you have to go to Fardeth to get them. I promise you old friend that if they aren't back I'll make sure all of your limbs are crippled just like that one." He pointed at Lark's right leg. Lark's smile disappeared at the mention of his maimed right leg and he looked Tellos in the eye with anguish in his eyes.  Lark knew Tellos had witnessed how his leg was maimed in the breaking of the siege of Kall against the Orc host. This was an insult that hit Lark to the core.

"Fine, I'll bring them to you in four sunsets, you blabbering sea dog." Lark lied.

"Lar, you know you don't have a choice.  I have privateer brethren in every town and city from here to the Inland Sea.  A crusty face like yours will be easy to spot. Mark my words you'd be a dead man." Captain Tellos Stormblade, Lark regretfully knew was telling the truth. 

"You'll have them in four nights." Lark said knowing that he was signing his own death warrant.

"I have your word then. I'll be watching you. So don't you even think about flying off in that trash ship of yours either.  For perhaps I already spoke with that rabble you call a crew and maybe I know quite a few have families in Mistvald that they won't want to see any harm come to." Tellos's licked his lips and smiled for he knew that even if Lark were to flee his crew would revolt or mutiny if threatened with such an act.

"You'll have them, you mongrel.  Now leave." Lark knew he was pretty much dead in four nights and just wanted rid of the pompous naval captain. He needed time to think, or at least have something stiff to drink.  Tellos shook his head and laughed as he turned and waved his crewmen to follow.  The biggest crewman in a sweat stained uniform which appeared to want to burst open with tensed muscles gave a throat slitting signal before chuckling and leaving the bar.

"Inbred buffoon." Lark mumbled under his breath. Thinking now about how badly he could go for the ale that now made his shirt and jacket a soggy mess.

******************

Lark had no sooner mounted a stool and turned back to the bar when he was spun around in his seat and a muzzle of a rusted flintlock appeared in his face.  When his vision unblurred from focusing on the hollow steel muzzle he could see down the gun and up the red filigreed arm to the stern face of Parth Sinder.  Lark couldn't believe it; could his luck get any worse today.

"I'm amazed a pile of pig dung like you could even bare to show his face in this city again." Parth said as he cocked the pistol.

"Well I was just about to leave." Lark said trying to duck away from the muzzle which tracked his head like a magnet.

"I don't think so." Parth said forcing Lark back into his seat with a swift kick of a muddy boot smashing his back to the bar.  "Honestly, how stupid do you think you made me feel when you tricked me into that fool's errand. I should of known when I saw that grubby halfling that he had to be a member of your crew." Parth shock his head in disbelief at how easy it had been to find the man who sent him on a six month trek across hundreds of miles of hostile land.

"I should of known that tale that manling told me was too good to be true.  I spent a winter in the most remote lands and scuttled my aeroship for lack of coal hundreds of miles from a settlement. I fought my way through barbarians, goblins, and froze just to survive to find you."  Lark couldn't believe Parth was standing here with a gun to his temple.  Lark knew that he was probably going to die for the trick he had pulled on Parth, but at the time when both he and his crew were starving and the situation was dire he had to rid himself of his stiffest competition.  When competition was so fierce and a livelihood was on the line; a man would do just about anything he could to get an edge over his rivals.  Even if Lark assumed he'd never see Parth again the risk at the time seemed worth it.  He had sent his halfling lieutenant and navigator, Grumbald Aleheart to Parth's Aeroship with a falsified Legislated decree from the Mistvald Legislator stating that the vessel was to take an emergency cargo to Darnth on the far western fringe of the Five Realms.  The decree stated that a hefty reward would be supplied by the Darnthian Regent when the supplies arrived. Lark hadn't expected that Parth would take the cargo to Darnth without checking to see that it was crates of sand.  Lark's stomach sank as he resented making the decision that now put the ire of Parth Sinder and the entire crew of Parth's aero against him.  Lark knew that he couldn't talk his way out of this one. He sighed waiting for the inevitable pistol crack that would end his miserable existence and splatter his brain pulp all over the ale stained bar.

"Well look at how much I brought you and your crew together Parth." Lark said with a dry grin as he contemplated whether he would hear the pistol crack or if he'd die before the sound of the pistol ever reached his ears.

"I've waited a long time for this." Parth said with a smile that almost split the ragged cheeks of the aero captain.  A smile that spoke of grim satisfaction at having his most hated prey trapped like a bug beneath his heavy boot.  Parth's frostbitten finger crept slowly to the trigger as Lark's vision blurred to focus on the muzzle again.  Lark refused to close his eyes for he was going to take this like man. He stared Parth in the eyes to take away the satisfaction of allowing the deceived aero to watch him cowering in fear.

A shot rang out. Lark blinked and when he opened his eyes he expected to see the nothingness of death, but instead he saw the flintlock slowly inch from his head to point at the floor. Lark looked at Parth's face to see that it was now turned to face the door of the bar as three figures entered; one holding a smoking pistol. A warning shot, Lark realized but from who?  Who would save him? He had more enemies than a rapist serial killing orc pirate.

To Lark and Parth's surprise the figure that came in silhouetted by the sun beyond the bar's doors was wearing the crimson robes of a Mistvald Legislator and flanked by two Black Wardens.  The legislator's red flowing robe accentuated his grey bearded face and added to his regal appearance. Surely someone of such stature shouldn't be hanging out in the dregs of Mistvald unless he were looking for something or someone, Lark thought.

"Lark Ornnen?" The legislator asked.

"YEAH." Lark said quickly and loud enough for everyone in the bar to here him.

"Come with me." The Legislator commanded. "You there." The Legislator pointed at Parth. "Follow and you will perish. This man is now under the jurisdiction of the High Governance of Mistvald. You will not lay a finger on Lark Ornnen or my men will have you rotting in a dungeon for eternity ." 

Parth's mouth opened to protest and thought better of it when he saw the stone cold look of the Legislator.  Instead he turned and spoke to Lark. "I will kill you another day then. Swine."

"Away now." The Legislator gestured to Parth. Parth rose and spat in the direction of Lark and headed to the door; bumping shoulders with one of the Legislator's bodyguards as he departed.

The Legislator beckoned for Lark to follow and without haste Lark turned around grabbed a full tankard chugged it, wiped his drenched chin with his sleeve, and took off across the bar scanning for any other phantom enemies he may have failed to discovered.  Outside the bar in the bristling sun drenched busy streets an ornate government carriage awaited.  Lark had barely taken a seat inside when the Legislator began to speak.

"Before we begin, I want you to understand that what I am about to say is to never leave this carriage."  To this Lark replied. "You have my word." 

"As much as I would like to take your word. You must understand that I just witnessed two threats on your life in about as many hours from those who took your word.  You will do as I tell you or you will regret ever coming to Mistvald. Do not think because I am a politician that I am a fool or that I am weak.  I can put you in the deepest darkest hole in the Five Realms." The Legislator threatened.  "I know your past.  I know they say you are a war hero, but I also know that you were a pirate. You once bore the death mark of a Pirate that I know now is covered with the legion mark of the Kallic army.  You cannot hide from your past forever."  The Legislator paused for a moment to gesture to the carriage driver to move out.

"Do you understand? Outlander?" The Legislator asked staring Lark in the eye.

"Yes. Speak Legislator. I understand." Lark said tired of all the obfuscation.

"I have a mission for you and your ship.  A mission that only you or your crew are to be privy to." To this Lark nodded intent to discover every detail. "A courier aero arrived yesterday from Keln.  It appears an aeroship known as the Vilya has disappeared.  You are to find this vessel." The Legislator commanded.  "This is a matter of the strictest secrecy. If anything I say is released to anyone, I'll have you hanged."

"What is this Vilya? I've never heard of it." Lark questioned.

"The Vilya is a cargo aeroship sent on a secret mission to deliver aid to the besieged city of Pion." Lark's eyes widened at the mention of Pion. "It is carrying a special cargo of which must not fall into the hands of the attackers."

"Pion? That's at least three weeks travel from here even at full steam. As you said; Pion is besieged. You honestly want me to lead a suicide mission hundreds of miles to a war torn city-state?  That is no ordinary army that besieges Pion."  Lark shuddered.  He had heard the stories filtering in from the north of the Kabalist legions.  An army of war painted barbarians who worshiped the moon and prayed to dark gods. 

"Yes, but the Vilya has gone missing beyond Keln it has not made its way to Pion.  The ship must be found at all costs.  You are to find the Vilya and retrieve it's cargo." The aged Legislator demanded.

"How am I supposed to know what this special cargo is when or if I find it?"

"The cargo would be hidden in plain view as a bust of the goddess Orphia.  Bring me the bust that is all I require."

"What is in it for me? I mean that is a long voyage into hostile territory and I don't have the coal and stowage to get there. A trip to Pion will be very costly." Lark demanded stroking his goatee.  Although he knew that he had little room to negotiate.

"You will be given a sealed decree for the coal and food stores.  You will meet with a contact in Keln and refit there.  The Vilya is carrying a cargo of bullion gold and weapons meant for the garrison at Pion. The gold is enough to pay the defending mercenary legion at Pion it's worth more than a new aeroship.  The cargo and gold is yours.  If the captain or crew are alive you are to deliver this decree to them relieving the gold and supplies to your possession." The Legislator handed him a sealed parchment.

"That seems nice but I don't think even with a ship full of gold I'd be able to pay off the debts I've created here." Lark stated trying to squeeze out everything he could; as he felt he honestly wasn't going to survive a mission to Pion and if he did he wanted it to be worth while.

"Ah yes. Your two friends in the bar; I will take care of them, if you get me the cargo." the Legislator assured.

"And so I must ask you, my liege.  What if I don't accept this "mission" of yours or find this Vilya.  What then? Why shouldn't I just hop on my Aero and fly south to Burdin and forgot all of this?"  Lark asked as he crossed his arms over his chest anticipating to see the legislator beg. 

"Mr. Ornnen need I remind you that I am a legislator.  To fail to accept my offer would force me to do the obvious: To publicly execute you for piracy against the people of the Five Realms." A sinister grin appeared accross the Legislator's face. "As you know Mr. Ornnen being a legislator means that I travel and have a great many political connections. I would make sure that should you not fulfill my offer or if you even think about stealing the bust and making off with it I shall have you hunted down and burned alive."

"Seems like I don't have a choice.  Well Legislator with no name I'll do it, but if there isn't any gold or reward I'll do the obvious too and pilfer off your bust to the dirtiest Dwarve trader I find and I'll make sure you spend the rest of your days searching miles of underground Dwarven mines for your darling Orphia."


**************************************************************



Lark was dropped off at a street corner near the eastern docks where the Legislator had arranged a waiting common carraige to take Lark back to the Mistvald Aerodrome.  The Legislator made it strongly aware that he was not to ever be see with Lark and that noone beyond his crew were to know about the mission.  Lark wasn't sure if he should be glad he now had a paying job or if he should curse his luck.  Flying to Pion through barbarian and hostile territory to find an aero that could be anywhere. Let alone the fact that it was on it's way to one of the must brutal warzones in the Realms.  It sounded like suicide and yet to Lark it seemed to put him at ease knowing he'd soon feel the excitement of the unknown again.  If only he were ten years younger he thought as he stepped out of the carriage and thanked driver, perhaps this might be his last adventure for better or worst.

The Mistvald Aerodrome was a series of long hangers and sheds with a long aerostrip for Aeroplanes and Aeroships to land on.  Lark had barely been able to make the weekly payments to rent one of the massive hanger bays.  Before he even made it into his allotted bay he could sense something was wrong. 

Lark spotted first his wrencher Mcree pulling a cart full of spare parts and sacks of belongings out of hanger with a dapper look upon him.  Following Mcree were the last few remnants of his crew all carrying their belongings either pulled in carts like Mcree or slung in torn or shabby sacks over their shoulders.

"WAIT." Lark called to his crew as he began to run knowing he hadn't told any of them they could have a leave of absence. Some of the deckhands on noticing Lark began to either lower their heads or scuttle off faster.

"Where are you going?" Lark questioned as he caught up to Mcree who was hindered by the parts cart which was too heavy allow him to slip away from the hanger fast enough to elude Lark.

Mcree stopped pulling his cart and looked Lark in the eyes, "It's over Lar. We're all done."

"What do you mean your done. I've paid you for atleast another month." Lark's anger starting to build.

"You heard me. Done. We have all had enough. And frankly what you paid us isn't a quarter as much we could get elsewhere and without all the threats and danger involved." Mcree explained. "We were only sticking around because we had no where else to go or were to stupid to realise the truth.  That your a failure as an Aero captain and it's not worth the risk to get killed for nothing."

"Mcree, you know I'd get us out of this slump.  Stick with me.  I have something real big I need you guys for.  It's really important you stay." Lark pleaded.

"I'm sorry Lar.  It's over. Tellos and Parth stopped by and they've promised to kill any of us who stick with you. I don't intend to stick around to find out if they will." Mcree said as he stared off not trying to see the look of dismay and unbelief Lark now shown.

"Please stay. I promise you this mission will solve all of our problems.  We'll be richer than you could imagine." Lark pleaded one last time knowing that if he couldn't persuade Mcree now he never would.

"No Lark. We've stuck around long enough listening to your idle promises. We're done.  Good bye and good luck Lar."  Mcree turned and walked away without looking back.

Lark stared after Mcree and the others in stark disbelief.  How could his crew of years just abandon him when he needed them the most. Lark knew he was dead.  It two days he'd probably be lying face down in a gutter with a knife projecting from his back. He finally lowered his head when Mcree and the others disappeared from view.  He shook his head still not able to comprehend how in one day his life could go so horribly wrong.  Lark stepped into the dusty hanger bay wondering if his trusty companion Grumbald had abandonned him too.

The hanger was filled with the massive flying machine of the Graceful Gale. Lark's aeroship was a massive contraption of steel sheet and taurpalin that barely filled the huge expanse of the hanger bay.

Topping the aeroship were two smaller yet equally complex sparrow aeroplanes. Each sparrow was a sleek cylinder gun fitted reconaisance aeroplane mounted on flight skids atop the aero. Capable of launching at a moments notice to defend the Graceful Gale

Lark admired his ship even if it was grossly technologically out of date compared to newer aeroships. The ship which had been built ten years prior had been one of the first used to transport cargo from city-state to city-state.  Ten years was a long service life for a newly developed technology such as aeroflight.  Lark who was already crushed by the desertion of his crew felt his heart sink even more knowing that his his ship which he had worked so hard for was going to probably end up in the hands of his enemies. An unwilling bequethment to pay one of his many posthumous debts. Lark knew that even if they sold everything on the Graceful Gale including the sparrows that Grumbald would never be able to pay off his debts enough to keep the aero and Lark didn't even want to think about the possiblity that Parth may kill Grumbald for his part in his treachery.

"Grum," lark called out to the craft hoping Grumbald would answer him.

"Lar?" Grumbald Aleheart's gruff voice questioned from the craft's pilot house.

"I never thought I'd ever be happy to hear that scruffy voice as much as I do right now. Get out here you short rascal.  We have a couple problems to figure out." Lark said trying to be as chipper as he could be.

"I know what you mean Lar.  I tried to stop them. I begged Mcree and the others not to leave. They wouldn't listen.  I couldn't stop them." Grumbald said with a gruff sad voice.

"Forget them Grum.  We have to think about us now.  We need to get out of Mistvald and we need to leave as soon as possible." Lark said as he walked past Grumbald to climb up the landing skids of the Graceful Gale and enter the pilot house.  Grumbald followed him continuing the conversation as they both entered the Aero.

"So what do you wanna do Lar? Where are we gonna go?" Grumbald asked.

"We'll gather what we can carry on horseback and we'll burn Gracie to the ground and head south to Burdin." Lark said without emotion although his lack of emotion was signal enough for Grumbald to know that Lark was masking how much it hurt to say it.

"Burn the Gale to the ground? Lar you can't be serious." Grumbald said aghast.

"We can't pilot an Aero by ourselves.  We wouldn't be able to get it off the ground with just me and you.  We don't have a wrencher or anyone to man the boiler. We have to face the facts that we need to ditch the ship and get out of Mistvald as quick as we can before one of Parth or Tellos' men trail us."

"So that's it then.  We ditch Gracie and everything we've worked on for years." Grumbald bellowed frustration showing across his red bearded face.

"What would you have me do Grum? We don't have a choice." Lark said trying to plot his case.

"I've never known you to give up so easily Lar. We should at least try to get some of the crew members back or find new ones. Anything, We can't give up.  Not after everything the Gale has done to save our arses." Grumbald stomped his feet and threw out his arm to take in the cabin of the Aeroship dragging his open hand around for emphasis.

"Do you honestly believe we could find a crew by tomorrow night capible of flying an aero to Pion of all places?" Lark questioned laughingly.

"PION? Who said anything about Pion.  Why the hell would we go to Pion?" Grumbald said with a look of utter confusion upon his face as he looked up to Lark with an expression of curiosity.

"Oh. Pion.  Yeah, about that.  I was approached by a Mistvald legislator about a mission to Pion to retrieve some piece of crap artifact or something.  It's of no consequence now. Your right though. We could pay or trick someone into flying us to Burdin."  Lark said realising the obvious.

"A mission? To Pion? Why would anyone but soldiers want to go to Pion.  It's a warzone there.  Why would anyone want you to lead a mission there?" Grumbald questioned inquisitively.

"Well, for a bust of Orphia or something.  The legislator really wanted it; was willing so he says to give me a whole mercenary armies worth of gold for it. Why would anyone want a bust that badly?"

"A mercenary armies worth of gold you say?"

"He said an aeroship known as the Vilya was taking a cargo to Pion for the garrison.  A cargo of weapons and pay for the mercenary troops and it went missing.  He was pretty serious about it too.  He wanted us to find some bust of Orphia and he was willing to "take care" of Parth and Tellos if we did."

"Are you serious? Lar we should do it. It'd solve everything.  I mean, I know it's suicidal. Pion for orc shat sake.  That's four or five weeks of travel but to be rid of your debts and rich.  How could you turn that down?" Grumbald said with a sinister grin.  A grin Lark had seen on the eave of all of their earlier adventures.  A look Lark hadn't seen in years.  Grumbald continued. "Think man, where is our sense of adventure? where is the old Lark Ornnen I know?"

"Your right Grum.  I guess I only have one question for you then." Lark said with a smile.

"Anything Lar." Grumbald said impatient for the question.

"Will you come with me to Pion?" Lark said with a mischievous grin he hadn't expressed in years.

"To the end of the world, Lar." Grumbald said with a look that only two men with years of comraderie could express between them.

"Then may Gracie give us one last flight to remember."   




********************************************************************



Lark and Grumbald began to prepare immediately. Packing and preparing provisions making mechanical checks, checking provisions, and loading stowage.  Grumbald and Lark and Grumbald moved with an eagerness they hadn't experienced in years.  The ship was ready although Lark knew they had some serious problems already with the ship. 

"So Grum I'm thinking we'd need a pair of pilots for the two sparrows, a wrencher, some deckhands, and if we can get someone who knows how to fire a cyl gun that would be fantastic." Lark listed.

"Well we need more than crew Lar. We're lacking some key supplies. Do you really think we can make it to Pion with out them?"

"Grum I'm gonna need you to go to the dregs and find anyone who'd be stupid enough to go on a suicide mission.  I don't care if you have to trick them.  I'll take care of the supplies."

"Should I offer them anything?  What should I tell them?  I don't have anything to give them up front.  What can we pay them." Grumbald asked.

"Tell them they'll be richer than they can imagine for a month of service.  If they aren't then we'll sell the Graceful Gale and give them the payment and disappear up north."

"I'll do my best.  I guess it's starting to get dark out.  I better be off then to the dregs before it gets too dark."

"Good Luck Grum, just tell them to meet here at the aerodrome at sunset tomorrow." Lark said as Grumbald shook his head and walked off into the fading sunset to disappear into the horizon like the rest of Lark's crew did earlier in the day.
« Last Edit: July 21, 2010, 06:20:14 PM by Castellan »

Offline Tamrissa

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Re: Misthaven:Secret Flight of the Vilya - PART 1: A Troublesome Crew.
« Reply #1 on: July 07, 2010, 10:46:32 PM »
The misshapen shanty known as The Quandary was the nightly haunt of a variety of unsavory personalities.  Its owner was a retired sailor (some said pirate).  Here the whiskey was diluted, the beer was stale, the rooms were cheap and the patrons were cheaper.  Yet no matter the reputation, it often was the place to go when all else was too expensive or less appealing.  It fit Linden Vireo's situation perfectly.

She tromped down the inn's stairs shrugging her longcoat over her shoulders.  Casually she flipped the collar up as she glanced down at the shady characters that filled the dive that evening.  Her hands then found the deep pockets at her sides as she shuffled towards the door.

As she passed the bar, a halfling turned away from his ale and a conversation with the innkeep.  He eyed her thoughtfully and his gaze lingered longer than she cared for.  She pretended not to notice as she hurried out the door and onto the stoop.  Placing a rolled cigarette between her lips she squinted around for the closest torch or lamp. 

Suddenly, a flame sprung to life to her right and she felt herself jerk away instinctively.  When she realized it was merely a lighter contraption, she bent back towards the offering and inhaled a few puffs as the cigarette sizzled.  After a long exhale of smoke, she nodded at the halfling holding it.

"Thank you, mister," her low-toned voice acknowledged.

The halfling blew the flame out and smiled at her crookedly through his beard, "Welcome."

After they had both examined a fist fight taking place a block away, he turned back to her, "Are you looking for work?"

Linden looked down at him through slitted eyes and plucked the cigarette from her mouth, "I'm an independent pilot without a plane, so, if that's what you meant by work, I'd say my answer would be 'No'."

"Even so, I might have a job you'd be interested in."

She began to turn away, her head shaking, "I doubt it, mister."

Just as she took a step down the stairs, the short man smoothly asked, "What if it meant a new aeroplane for you when it's over?"

Her boot scuffed against the stone porch as she froze. The door opened behind them and a few patrons exited, laughing boisterously.  She turned her head to the right and eyed the small fellow as the drunks passed by. Surprising herself, she turned back to him and opened her arms in a disbelieving gesture.

"Exactly what would pay such a hefty sum?"

He waited until the two men were out of earshot and tilted his head at her, mouth quirked in mild amusement, "Being the member of talented aeroship crew...and being able to follow orders.  The usual."

Brushing at some invisible dirt on his sleeve, he spoke again, "You keep your head down and do what your told, we'll see to it your taken care of when we return to Mistvald.  Works just like any other job you might have taken."

This little man didn't look like a pirate to her, yet the way his eyes glimmered when he said she'd be taken care of made her suspicious of such grand promises,  "My other employers would make sure I had food..."

"Done."

"...shelter..."

"Done."

"...and a contract."

He chuckled darkly, the edge of anger entering his voice, and folded his arms across his chest, "I don't even know that you're a real pilot, woman.  And your self-confessed lack of an aeroplane hardly helps your case.  Let's not get too high and mighty."

She clenched her teeth and flicked her cigarette, pondering his words, "Some sort of insurance that I'm not going to be sold into slavery would be nice."

"You're a slave to your troubles already according to the owner of this establishment," he let that sink in for a moment, kicking at some gravel littering the porch. "He plans on kicking you out at the end of the week.  Seems you're a little behind in payments?"

"None of your damn business," she said matter-of-factly and glared at him. That innkeeper chatters like a snoopy old woman.

He held up his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, eyes staring right back her,  "I'm trying to help you out of that situation here."

Linden's bottom teeth scraped against her upper lip as her own anger and embarrassment surfaced.  She tucked her right forearm against her ribs and rested her left elbow against it's wrist as she pulled one last drag from the cigarette.  Scowling, she dropped the remainder on the stone slab and outed the ember with the heel of her boot.

"Name of the aero is the Graceful Gale. Tomorrow's sunset at the Aerodrome or the streets...your choice."

He tossed the lighter into the air and marched back into the Quandary, griping to himself the whole way.  Linden quickly snatched the gadget before it could hit the ground.  She flinched as he slammed the door behind him.  With a heavy sigh of smoke, her narrow eyes went to the object resting in her palm.  Inscribed on the lighter were initials of 'PS', which had been scratched out haphazardly, and below, in similar scratch were the letters 'GA'.

Stolen?

"Better to rot in the air than on the ground I guess," she decided aloud and tucked the device into her coat pocket.

-------------------------------

The activity during the late afternoon at the Aerodrome was like a beehive.  Rotary engines and hundreds of voices made it nearly impossible for one to think.  It was especially painful to Linden, who had moped over her decision at various pubs throughout the Lower Dregs until dawn.

She blinked up at the light in the sky and saw that it would soon be time to find her new employer.  With a resigned sigh, she decided she needed to go do what needed to be done.  Lowering her eyes, she pressed on to a run-down storage hanger.

"'Ey!" a man's abrupt voice called to her as she came within range of her shabby little plane within the hanger.  "Vireo!"

Lee, her friend and mechanic, was wiping his hands clean on a red oilrag, his plain young face twisted in annoyance.  She licked her lips nervously and glanced around before she roamed in his direction.  He furiously threw the rag down on the engine of his current job as she stopped in front of him.  Meekly, she reached up and pulled her flight cap off, goggles and all. 

"Afternoon, Lee," she greeted with a brave smile, free hand working to tame her hair.

"Do ya know how long I'been making excuses fer you?" he answered with irritation, his nostrils flaring and eyes widening.  "I need whatever's in yer pockets today or bossman is goin' ta have both of us tossed in a cell."

"Fine.  Scrap the plane."

"No more stallin'--eh, what?"

"Take 'er to the scrapyard and pay off the debt with whatever they can get for her.  Keep the rest," Linden patted her thigh with the flight cap and looked out over the hanger, feigning disinterest in the fate of her plane. 

"Okay," he responded with some doubt.  "What're you goin' ta do?  Yer aunt and uncle goin' ta take you in?"

"Psh," she waved away that notion and shook her head. "I got a new job.  Some sort of aero crew position."

Lee picked up a wrench and flipped it into the air as he responded, "Oh yeah?  Which aero?"

"Don't know."

His forehead wrinkled as his brows rose and he caught the wrench pointedly, "Ya don' know?"

"Oh," she reached up to scratch above her eyebrow as she performed a pensive scrunch of her face.  "The Red Hawk?"

"Ya got a job on a military vessel?!"

"Nonono...a different Red Hawk."

Lee shook his head slightly and eyed her suspiciously, "Ah...well, they have a plane for ya then?"

"Mmhmh," she agreed absently, turning her eyes to the aeroplane he was in the midst of fixing.  "Turning wrenches earning you much?"

"Not as much as a pilot on an aero apparently," he pushed.  "Say...yer crew need a mechanic?"

"Nope...nope, got that all covered," she looked around the hanger one last time, lower lip pushed out as though she were in thought. "Wellp, I guess I better go find my ride.  Thanks for storing the plane and all.  I'll stop by when I get back."

She felt his eyes watching her as she turned on one heel and strode away as fast as she could without looking like she was running away.  After a moment, he called out, "Ya watch yerself, Lindy!"

"Always do," she muttered and pulled her flight cap back over her head.

Her eyes welled a bit when she passed the plane she had just sentenced to scrap, but she didn't turn.  With her upper lip stiff in determination, she made sure she had everything.  Backpack, jacket, goggles, sword belt, gun, and fire contraption.  She sighed and pulled the last item from her pocket.  If she couldn't be afraid or upset over her plane, she could at least have one weakness.

Once the cigarette was properly perched at the side of her mouth, she continued on to ask after an aero called the Graceful Gale...

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: Misthaven:Secret Flight of the Vilya - PART 1: A Troublesome Crew.
« Reply #2 on: July 08, 2010, 03:03:41 AM »
At the outskirts of Mistvale, a strange, bulky shape was lumbering aimlessly forward.  It moved steadily, albeit with a faint limp in its left leg.  Each footfall thudded loudly.  Faint hisses of steam accompanied the metallic creaking of every movement.
 
Darkness had changed to light and back to darkness more than once since it had awoken, but it had learned nothing of the world around it since then.  In that time, its body had grown ever more heavy, its movements slower.  A strange desire, a feeling of hunger gnawed at its inside.  The steam-powered humanoid construct did not know where it was, or where it was heading.  It only knew that it was afraid, lost, and completely alone.
 
The dreary surroundings did little to allay those feelings of abandonment as the construct paused to get its bearings.  It was standing in a narrow side-street in one of the poorest parts of town.  The structures here were dilapidated, with not a single right angle or straight wall in sight.  Mortar crumbled, wood rotted.  Small rodents ran and chattered across uneven cobbles, pools of oily water swirling with foul colour.  Flies hovered hungrily over the many piles of refuse and garbage.  The construct was lucky it had no sense of smell.
 
Voices from nearby.  Gruff, harsh, hushed voices that floated through the crooked window of a dilapidated shack.  They spoke of bloody deeds - planning the murder of a nearby family for refusing to pay for their ‘protection’.  The construct did not understand what their words really meant, but it felt a growing sense of fear and unease.  It knew that it needed to leave here immediately.
 
The construct crouched as low as possible and made its way beneath the window as stealthily as its massive, creaking metallic body would allow.  Its effort was for naught, however.  Too concerned with what was ahead, it missed what was above – with a loud noise, a rusting metal downspout crashed against the construct’s upper back.
 
“What was that loud clang?!” a voice shouted.
 
“Someone’s here!” another said.
 
A door burst open, and five thugs – armed with cudgels, knives, and a flintlock pistol – ran out onto the street.  They were rough, cruel-looking men, scarred and with the steely eyes of murderers.  The construct panicked, and broke into a run.
 
“Stop him!”
 
“How can he move that fast in all that armour?!”
 
A loud crack echoed through the streets, and a metal slug impacted on the wall next to the construct’s head.  They were trying to destroy it!  It had to escape!

The construct forcefully hurled its massive body around a tight corner, bouncing harshly off the brick wall before continuing its run.  Despite its best efforts, these tight alleys made it almost impossible to escape.  The construct never had a chance to build up any momentum before it had to turn yet another corner, barely keeping its balance.  The thugs were gaining.  It needed to find an open space!

It heads for the nearest rays of weak morning sunlight, filtering faintly from behind a pile of planks and rags piled haphazardly at the end of an alleyway.  With a loud crash and amidst a cloud of splinters and dust, the metallic humanoid hurtles out onto a wide cobbled street, loses its footing, and crashes headlong to the ground.

“We’ve got him now!  Take him out!”

A cudgel is raised high as the construct struggles to get back to its feet…

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #3 on: July 08, 2010, 02:45:31 PM »
The dwarf gritted his teeth together, eyeing the half elf across from him.  The five cards in his hand were shaking.  It wasn't nerves giving him such tremors.  The half elf was taking all of his money.  He didn't remember how they started playing cards, although he had a distinct feeling that it was this half elf's idea.  One moment he was drinking a beer, the next he was excitedly fishing around for a deck of cards and buying a round for the two of them.  There he goes with that sly smile again.  Probably another two pair.  The dwarf's eye started twitching when the half elf slid half his pile of coins foward.

The dwarf throws his cards face down onto the table in anger.  "I fold, dammit!  I hope you're buried with it!"

The half elf gives a big toothy grin as he scoops up the round's pot.

"My, my...  Such harsh words between friends!  Here, just between pals."  The half elf slides a coin across the table with his pointer finger.  The dwarf looks up and catches a wink from the half elf.

"Why, you crumby half breed!"  The dwarf shouts as he leaps up out of his chair and over the table, knife in hand.  The half elf quickly snatches up the rest of his winnings and jumps back, out range of the stubby arms snatching at him.

"Now, now, theres no need for violence."  The half elf says, gripping the hilt of his scimitar as he backs up.  Not looking where he's going, he bumps into a crowd of humans standing at the bar.

Drunkenly, one of them shouts, "Ey!  Git yerself offa me ya lout!"  Grubby hands shove the half elf into a group of dwarves sitting at a table.

"Oy!  Yer the one takin' all me mates money, eh?  Why we oughta pummel 'em boys!"

"Oh no!  Fine sir.  I was merely sent to deliver a message from that group of men over there.  They requested that I inform you that they, and I quote, 'Don't take kindly to stumpy, rotten, mole people such as yourselves.'  Myself I find them rather disagrea--"

The half elf is shoved out of the way as the dwarves get up and charge at the men at the bar.  His poker playing friend was still stumbling across the room towards him, knife in hand.  Just then a halfling throws the door open, whacking the dwarf in the face with it.  Regaining his balance, the dwarf screams and lunges at the surprised halfling.  A pebble comes whizzing across the room and smacks the dwarf in the head, knocking him to the ground.

In a hurry, the half elf runs for the door, grabbing the halfling by his coat and dragging him outside.

"Don't want to get caught in the middle of that mess, pal."  The half elf explains with a wink as he lets go of the halflings coat.

"Get offa me!  I knew the Crooked Propeller was a rough place, but brawls are rare these days."  Eyeing the half elf up, he chuckles a bit.  "But so are fellas such as yourself, eh half elf?"

"My heritage is none of my doing.  I merely play the cards I'm dealt..."  He plucks a few cards from somewhere in his armor and tosses them at the halfling.  "And maybe a few others, but whos counting."

"A man who makes his own luck, I like that.  How would you like to make some money?  Can you fly?"

The half elf crosses his arms and rubs his chin.  "Yes, in fact I can fly.  What would yo need a pilot for?"

"A simple retrieval mission.  Pick up some cargo and bring it back.  You'd help around the ship and fly one of the smaller cra-"

The door to the bar flings open, nearly flying off the hinges.  An angry dwarf followed by a group of men charge out of the bar.

"There he is!  Get 'em!"  The dwarf points at the half elf.

"Sunset tomorrow, the Graceful Gale!"  The halfling shouts the half elf takes off running.


--------------------------- A few hours later --------------------------


"Ey," *hic* "yer al'ight.  Ne'er knew a haf elves ta be so scrappy!" *hic*

Every seat at the bar was taken, dwarf sitting next to man, sitting next to half elf.  Each had a few empty mugs and a few full ones sitting in front of them.  Shot glasses line the length of the bar.

The half elf pats the man on the back.  "Aww, yer jus' sayin that!  You ain't so bad," *hic* "yerself!"  Wobbily the half elf stands up from his barstool and takes a look around the room with glassy eyes.  The men and the dwarves are busy laughing and trading war stories.  A silly grin plants itself on the half elf's face as he walks out the door quietly.

"Those fellas'll be right pissed when they realize I lef them with the tab...  Wha' was the name of tha ship?  The Greatful Male?  No, no...  The Graceful Snail!" *hic* "Now wherez'a hangar at?"

The half elf stumbles down the street towards what he believes is a hangar, the sun starting to peek over the city walls.  He hears a large crash a few streets over and what sounds like men shouting.

"Poor fella..."

Offline Daccio

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #4 on: July 09, 2010, 10:38:04 PM »
"HAH! I told you I could do it, owe up!" Alfons holds his hand out to the other boy who was with him, both surrounded by several people whom seemed to be taking much interest in what he was doing

"Yes yes, you took it apart and put it back together in less than a minute" He motioned to Alfons' perfectly crafted wheel lock pistol. "But it has to fire!"

The crowed starts to cry out "It has to fire!" "Fire it off!" "I bet it doesn't work!" Alfons grins and hold the pistol up in the air.

"I am the best mechanic in all of mistvald. I graduated from the academy before people my age are allowed in." He pulled the trigger and a shot fired into the air. The mechanisms worked flawlessly and the gun looked amazing. The boy who had challenged him whistled between his teeth as some of the people flinched.
 
"Boy, that was worth it" he hands Alfons a coin "You really are the best! I hear there is some guy lookin for a crew, you could get hired on one of those fancy aero ships"

Alfons put his one hand on his hip, Putting the wheel lock pistol in the holster with other "Sure sure, another half bit captain looking to get his start in the aero plane business. I could put myself up for bid and become the wealthiest engineer this city has ever seen, why would I want to be with some half lout?"

The other boy shrugged "I just heard it, that's all. Have a good day Alfons, good luck with your projects!"

The crowd started to disperse. Alfons put on his dark brown coat, settled his hat, and buckled on his rapier. He looked fancy with it and it was fun to wear it. He supposed he could see what this captain was about and what was being paid and all that, though he knew he could pretty much have whatever he wanted. He was, after all, the most brilliant engineer to date in mistvald.

Alfons started walking down the street. He often did this, wandering around the city, just looking at things and meeting people. He liked to study architecture and the structures everywhere. He wandered down a cobbled street as he suddenly heard a ruckus and a giant thing made out of metal tumbled in a  giant crash into the street in front of the 16 year old boy.

“What the-?” he had time to get out before he saw the thugs and what they were going after.
“What’s going on here!” Alfons shouts as the cloud of splinters and dust settles. His right hand shoots to his pistol grip and he looks at the man raising the cudgel “What are you doing?!” He demands, having no idea what to do in this situation… but he was just kind of thrown into it as it were. The armored person seemed to be trying to get to his feet.

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #5 on: July 10, 2010, 02:11:50 AM »
The cudgel descends, smashing hard onto the construct's head - it gives a loud bang, but rebounds off, leaving only a small dent.  The construct roars in pain.  Looking up, it spots Alfons standing nearby, taken aback by the events.

Words seems to click together inside the construct's mind, and it speaks in a hollow voice:  "Help... me!"

The thug prepares for another strike as the construct tries to shield itself with its massive forearm, while a second jams a knife between some of the construct's plates - though to his surprise, this has little effect.

The three other thugs have noticed Alfon's intrustion, and turn to face him.  They finger their weapons, but a look of worry flashes across their faces - this is not how they had imagined this situation, and they didn't want it spiralling out of control.  The bravest of the three steps forward, menacingly dangling his cudgel from his hand.

"Pike off, lout, and pretend you didn't see anything!  This has nothing to do with you!"
« Last Edit: July 11, 2010, 01:26:43 AM by Soul Reaver »

Offline john greymore

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #6 on: July 10, 2010, 04:47:06 AM »
The Graceful Gale...

Nonsense. Prepostrous. No machine could ever be as graceful as the work of Mother Nature.

And really, why do cities need light this bright!?! It seriously hurts the eyes.

Serassey walked along the cobbled streets, grumbling and complaining to himself about the state the world was in. A few hours back, he had come out of 'The Quandary'. He had heard that it was one of those places where the many races congregate and socialise, although after being there for just barely an hour, he could not see anything special about it and had decided to left.

But the stay had been quite informative. Apparentely, the non-elves preferred drinks that almost made one puke and smoked things that elves never even knew existed.

Like that girl that came in, the one with the goggles.

It both amused and shocked him that a female would ever attempt to pass off for a male... at least, that's what he thought she was doing, with that overgrown coat that she had...

But a halfling, the same one that had approached him earlier on and asked him whether he was 'interested in a job' (to which he had promptly replied that he had no interest in whatever he was selling), had decided to approach her and actually lit that rolled paper up such that smoke was emitted. Intriguing... and smelly.

As halfling and woman had talked on, Serassey had strained his ears and picked up on their conversation. By the end of it, he had a new piece of information, the location of an aero by name of The Graceful Gale. Hmm... perhaps he would visit this aero and inspect one of those machines that he had seen flying in the air back at home more closely later on.

Time had passed since then, and he now found himself walking along one of the quieter streets. There was a calm in the atmosphere that reminded him of--

--"Stop him!"

Serassey flinched at the sudden noise, annoyed that his reverie had been broken even before it had started. Deciding that he would find the source of the commotion, he followed the source around a few corners and turned a sharp bend... before quickly retreating into the shadows as he peeked out.

Ahead, he saw a huge construct falling over and hitting the ground with a loud crash, with four men closing the distance, a particular one holding a cudgel, preparing to strike.

'Good. Destroy that monstrosity. Things like that shouldn't be allowed to exist.' He thought to himself as the cudgel was raised.

Then a cry. "What's going on here!"... and...

A reply. "Help... me!"

Serassey shuddered and stepped back. It could talk!?! Soon, machines would be able to take over the world!

"Pike off, lout, and pretend you didn't see anything! This has nothing to do with you!"

Serassey jumped, thinking that it was directed to him, before realising that it was actually a warning to the young boy who had shouted. Still hidden in the shadows, Serassey considered just walking off and making his way to the aero. Besides, this had nothing to do with him. Yet his instincts were telling him to wait, and he knew why. The boy. The construct he could leave, but with the boy's involvement, there was life at stake. He couldn't see what the boy's right hand was doing, his line of sight blocked by the mess of machine and man, but he was sure the boy was probably shaking in fright right about now.

Rule 1 of the code: Life is sacred, protect all that you can.

To protect him, those four men would need to suffer... but there was nothing about suffering in the code. Besides, no pain no gain.

Ensuring that his hair was still tied up, he ducked down and reached out to his right boot, gripping on his flintlock pistol. He had left his bow back at his new home so as to draw less attention to himself. All the better, it would give him a chance to test out this new-fangled contraption of a slingshot.
Destruction begets Creation. Creation begets Interaction. Interaction begets Society. Society begets Use. Use begets Destruction.

Thus the cycle begins and ends.

Offline Daccio

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #7 on: July 10, 2010, 09:24:28 AM »
Alfons pulled out his wheel lock pistol with one hand, rapier in the other. He pointed the rapier at the man. Alfons’ was 16, he was at that stage in life where he felt he could do anything, was always right, and was nearly invincible.

“Pike off? Why don’t you get out of here while you have a chance.” He said, taking up fencing stance. He had been shown a little of fencing by his father. He was by no means an expert, but perhaps he could take on a man with a cudgel. He held his Whee lock up, with the rapier pointed at the man, and stepped forward a few keeping the sword pointing out to force the man with a cudgel back.

At the last moment, Alfons would thrust with his sword. He knew any experienced swordsman would likely defeat him, but the man with a cudgel was a thug. The man would be forced back as Alfons came to stand between the men and the giant… thing made of metal

“Go now, run back before things get ugly!” Alfons shouted at the men. Thoughts raced through his mind. What if they fought back? What was he going to do? He /might/ be able to take one, but not all at once… this was going to be an interesting day for Alfons’.

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #8 on: July 10, 2010, 05:49:42 PM »
Darterity stumbles around the corner.  All the commotion got his drunken attention.  Wobbily, he surveys the scene.  Some kid was standing up against a group of dirty thugs.  A fool in way too much armor was lying on the ground frightened as a baby.  Never a dull day.

The thugs notice Darerity standing there and start pointing.  He could turn tail and leave the kid and the fool to their fate, or he could intervene and maybe eke out some sort of reward for helping them out.

His shallow pockets made his decision.  Opening his arms and raising them in the air, Darterity approaches the group with a silly grin.

"Gentlemen!  What brings ye out on such a fine evenin'?  I see you've met my brother there, rolling around on the ground.  He's a might peculiar.  Takes to putting on every piece of scrap he can find and likens it to being some kind of knight or sumfin.  A bit touched in the head, that..."

Darterity quickly eyes up the boy with his weapons raised.  The thugs grumble to themselves, noticing the cut of Darterity's armor, and the scimitar and flintlock at his hip.  Raising an eyebrow slightly at the boy,  Darterity continues.

"This 'eres my brother's ol'l pal.  Always quick to draw as long as I've known 'im.  Whatever wrong's been done I'm sure it ain't worth a tussle in the streets..."  Darterity grips the hilt of his scimitar.  "'Specially after drawing so much attention to yourselves."

He continues grinning at the thugs.  The cudgel is lowered as the lead is caught up in Darterity's speech.  Glancing back at the others, he catches shakes of the head an frustrated grumbles.

"You didn't see nothin, and tell that simpleton he didn't hear nothin neither.  Yer lucky yer brother's friend 'ere came by, son."

The thug spits on the ground as the others turn back down the alley, walking rather quickly.  With a nod to Darterity, he also turns and leaves.


Darterity releases his grip on his scimitar and sighs.  A burg gurgles out of his mouth at the end of the sigh.  He saunters over to the kid and the guy in the armor, shaking his head.

"Buncha lowlifes, they usually turn tail and run when they're out in the open.  I wouldn't go prancing down any dark alleys for a while if I were you, though."  He says, as he extends a hand down to the guy in the armo-  Wait that wasn't any suit of armor!

Lowering his voice, he says, "My friend, I'm not sure if you realize this, but you're missing your skin under all that metal...  What sort of machine is this?"  He asks the boy.
« Last Edit: July 11, 2010, 05:39:40 PM by Kitharsis »

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #9 on: July 11, 2010, 01:40:22 AM »
Having drawn such a sizeable crowd, the thugs realize that any further attempt to hide their misdeeds is pointless.  With surprising speed, they have tucked away most of their weapons and have started to saunter off in a nonchalant fashion.  One spits on the ground in front of Alfons as they depart, but in moments, they are gone.

The construct lowers its arm fearfully to see Darterity looking down at him.  The man is clearly surprised at his appearance, but makes no hostile moves.  Quiety, he speaks.

"Thank... you."

A jet of steam escaping from his thigh joints, the construct heaves itself back onto its feet, towering over both Alfons and Darterity and looking curiously down at its rescuers.  It overhears Darterity questioning Alfons.

"Machine...?" it asks itself.

Offline Daccio

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #10 on: July 11, 2010, 09:25:07 AM »
Alfons suddenly feels a little embarrassed about holding his weapons out and quickly puts them away. He looks to the new man who had arrived with a mix of relief and curiosity. 

"Thanks" He said, before he glares at the man who had spit at his feet. After a moment he kneels down next to what looked like a giant suit of armor.

"Huh... I've never seen anything like this before..." He would lean down to put his hand on one of clang's elbow joins, inspecting it, then moving around, looking at the metal plating, its materials trying to puzzle out how it appeared to be made and how it was moving and speaking on its own.

"Not... a person" He said astonished "Seems to be made out of mostly Iron, with some bronze and copper in there...." he said while inspecting. "Steam is escaping..." He would say as a jet of stream shoots from clang's thigh joint "So there must by some sort of furnace in there, to produce the steam, which means coal is necessary to keep this thing running.... " He frowns a bit as he touches a spot of rust "And has been exposed to elements for some time. It's hard to say, considering the amount of corrosion."

For a young kid, he was pretty knowledgeable. You would hear his name mentioned 'Alfons Jensen' by the crowed several times and if you had been in the city any length of time or long enough to listen even, he was heralded as the most brilliant engineer in the city.

"I have no idea whats producing the ability to speak though.... and think. That is impressive... That can't be done by steam-work... but I cannot think of what it might be." Alfons looked around at the crowed

"Perhaps we should move out of the streets"

As he would stand he would look to the construct "Do you have a name?" he asked curiously, wondering if perhaps the intelligence had been a fluke or something similar.

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #11 on: July 11, 2010, 04:02:20 PM »
The construct watches slightly apprehensively as Alfons pokes and proddes at his joints.  However, this man had come ot his aid, and was not yelling or trying to shoot him.  Then, however, comes the question.

"Do you have a name?"

The construct's thoughts begin to whirr.  A name?  It racked the dark, empty void of its memories for what its name might once have been, yet finds nothing.

Slowly, the construct begins to shake its head, but then stops.  It remembers the hastily shouted words of the thugs it had first encountered.

What was that loud clang?!

It could not go on nameless.  This would do.

It looks down at Alfons solemnly.

"Clang.  My name... is Clang."

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #12 on: July 11, 2010, 05:49:13 PM »
Darterity takes a wobbly step back when the... thing stands up.

“Clang.  My name... is Clang.”

“Clang it is then,”  Darterity says, still a bit in shock.

Turning to the kid, Darterity nods.  “Yes, I think we've hung around here long enough.  This thi- er... Clang... would fit in around the hangar, what with all the spare parts lying around.  Besides, I was on my way there before running into you lot.  And hey, what's your name, kid?”

Offline Tamrissa

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #13 on: July 11, 2010, 06:15:28 PM »
Late afternoon - Near Sunset

The sky was still bright and, despite being pointed in the direction of the hanger, Linden was hesitant about arriving at the Graceful Gale ahead of time.  She found the shade of some scaffolding and stared hard at the building that housed the aero.  Her keen brown eyes watched for a long while as workers passed it by and no one seemed to stir from within. 

Her mouth worked at chewing on the inside of her lower lip as she thought about the predicament she was about to immerse herself in.  The little man hadn't seemed concerned whether she'd show or not.  He could replace her with another random pilot, possibly one that wasn't as instinctive as her, but it didn't matter.  Hired help was expendable.

She'd made the mistake of being openly vulnerable, yet again.  Poverty had brought her low and she had assumed that no opportunities would arise.  How stupid of her to admit she was so desperate!

Giving a huffed out sigh, she looked down at her boots and let go of the disgust with a roll of her shoulders.  If she saw a new aeroplane out of the ordeal, it'd be worth it.  Hell, she'd at least get some much needed experience. 

Heaving her backpack back up onto her shoulders, she pressed on to the hanger.  Her rosy face was scrunched against the heat of the sun and her mouth was set in a line.  As she entered the side door of the hanger, her face slacked in appreciation of the cooled interior.

Her eyes went up to the aero that nearly overtook its shelter.  As her chin tilted back to include the sparrows and all else, her mouth fell open and she tucked her thumbs into the straps of her pack.  It seemed an eternity that she admired the aged, yet impressive, vessel...

Offline Daccio

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #14 on: July 11, 2010, 10:06:42 PM »
'My name is clang' The construct replied.

Huh... the intelligence didn't seem to be a fluke, but he had no idea where it came from.

"Clang eh? Alright Clang. Come along with us, I want to figure out how you work. Perhaps we can look into getting you fixed up, your kindy rusty" Alfons mentioned. He sounded almost excited at the prospect.

He looked to Darterity with a bit of suprise.

"You havent heard of me? I am Alfon's Jensen, engineer Genius" He said proudly. "Graduated from the acadamy 6 years ago, at 10. Thats 8 years before anyone is allowed to be admitted to the acadamy." You could tell he had a bit of an ego, but it wasnt as bad as it could have been.

"Yeah, lets get off these streets."

Offline john greymore

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #15 on: July 12, 2010, 01:04:25 AM »
Alfons and... what was that? Clam? Clan? Serassey's ears were not attuned to picking up the sound made by machines, himself having grown up around the trees.

The thugs were gone now; they had taken a different route. Serassey had not caught the name of the drunk half-elve.

He shivered. Half-elve mutants.

But it was enough for now. He would return home and grab his bow before making his way to the hanger.

-----

Just before sunset, fully geared up with his trusty bow and arrows, Serassey made his way to the hanger after asking for directions.

That had been an experience in itself.  Some of the citizens had simply pointed in a general direction with a quick 'that way', while others simply eyed him and laughed before walking off. If it were him, he'd ensure that fully accurate and precise directions were given... while holding back his laughter if there was anything on his face (he had checked right afterwards, but could see nothing wrong that would cause such laughing).

But he was lucky. He had run into Grum, the halfling that he had met earlier on in the 'gathering room' as Serassey now named it. Running up and tapping him on the shoulder, he had thrown his question:

"Excuse me, erm... Grum, was it? I'm looking for the Aerodrome."

Eyeing him suspciously, Grum had replied, while rubbing his chin. "Have we met before? You look strangely familiar... Either way, what would an elve want in the Aerodrome?"

"I simply wish to see an Aero, like the many I have seen back at home."

"Do you... want to see how it works?"

Serassey paused. Did he? The thought of being swallowed up by something that big...

"I don't know. Do I have to swim inside it?"

Grum had burst into laughter then. "No, no nothing like that. More of an overall picture. How about you I give you a job on--?"

"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling." Was the automatic response.

"I've heard your voice somewhere... Mmm... I think you misunderstand me. I'm selling you opporunity."

"I have none of what you people call 'coin'. I cannot pay. Therefore, I am not interested."

Laughter again. "You're a funny one! This is for free. You come with me to the Aero, you'll learn many things that the rest of your kind have not. The machines really aren't that bad you know." Grum flashed a toothy smile at the end of the sentence.

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Excellent. The Aero's name is--"

"The Graceful Gale. I know. But I need to know, how will we hunt in the air when there's no food? What about drink? Hygiene..."

"Now now, slow down there. You want to learn things, you've got to do it firsthand. Everything will be taken care of." Grum pat Serassey on the back, or tried to. He simply succeeded in whacking his butt.

"Alright, I'll do it."

With directions given, Grum had walked off cheerfully, whistling some tune. Serassey had caught words like 'free' and 'cheap'. He scratched his head. What was that supposed to mean?

Regardless, he eventually arrived in the hanger and to The Graceful Gale.

Serassey gawked, nearly expelling his tea. This was an Aero? Up close it looked so much more intimidating than it appeared to be.

Nevertheless, he sat down on a ledge nearby, waiting for the halfling and any others that were to come.
Destruction begets Creation. Creation begets Interaction. Interaction begets Society. Society begets Use. Use begets Destruction.

Thus the cycle begins and ends.

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #16 on: July 12, 2010, 11:31:25 AM »
"I'm not from around these parts, Alphons.  And this academy is sounds like a pretty big deal, if yer into that kinda thing."

Darterity turns to Clang, "Whatever you are, you should probably stick around with us for the moment.  Let's roll."

The recent events did wonders for Darterity's drunkenness.  The near miss of a scuffle cleared his head a bit.  Although now early traces of a hangover were looming over him.  He waves everyone along as he starts walking towards the hangar.  A great deal less wobbly than before...

Offline Tamrissa

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #17 on: July 12, 2010, 02:18:02 PM »
Linden's awe finally dwindled and she went to scouting the hanger for a sign of life.  She ducked under some rigging and a rickety set of mobile stairs as she first searched the ground-level space around the huge aero.  As she finally turned one last corner, she began to call out.

"Hello?" her question bounced emptily around the large building.  "Anyone there?"

Her eyes caught sight of a slim figure waiting silently upon a ledge.  She noticed his unique features first; bound snowy hair that did not seem due to human aging, very pale skin for one dressed in clothing meant for travel, and a height that would have towered above her had he been standing.  If he were one of the aero's crew, she thought he must be an officer with this appearance she deemed quite imposing.  Yet, there, when he turned his head, she saw the point of an ear.  An elf?

Swallowing her agitation, she wiped the perspiration from her right palm along the side of her longcoat and stepped forward,  "Good evening."

She then extended the same hand to Serassey, "How do you do?  I'm Linden Vireo."

Her long face pulled tight with an attempt at a calm smile.  Within her mind, she went over all the facts she knew of elves and strained to remember if she'd ever met one before.  Failing to obtain anything pertinent, her eyes briefly dodged to the left and then back to the elf as she continued to reach forward to grasp his hand in greeting.

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #18 on: July 12, 2010, 05:08:52 PM »
Clang listens to the invitations of Alfons and Darterity to join them.  He had nowhere else to go, knew nothing else of the world.  These two had put themselves at risk to save him.  Was there even a choice here?

"Yes..." Clang replied, and nodded.

Limping slightly, with noisy, heavy footsteps and the occasional gust of steam, Clang falls in line behind the other two as they make their way to the aerodome.  Clang had no idea what was to be in store for him, but it had to be better than the place he came from.

Offline Daccio

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Re: Misthaven: Secret Flight of the Vilya - Part I: A Troublesome Crew
« Reply #19 on: July 12, 2010, 08:51:23 PM »
Felix would move beside clang, inspecting him every time steam shot out from a joint. He didn't stop them, just moved along. He wondered where clang had come from, and where the voice was coming from and a thousand other questions, but there would be time for that later. He suddenly realized he didn't know their third companions name.

"So, what's your name?" Alfons asked dar, wondering where he had come from as well. He had been impresses by the way the half elve had thought on his feet like that, to prevent violent.