《Sky Emerging》 Pilot Airship "You know they say that the next ship is coming in the next fortnight." "Fortnight? I thought the Cloud Bandits blockaded the route and are making so shipping is barely profitable." "They are, it just the transmission came in when around the time a grade 1 storm surge came in, it even had the potential for grade 2." "Insane... This empire is already on the fritz with the merchant wars and trade has gone down by 30% in the last hundred years." "Yea... well we might as well close the stream port for tonight, remember to refill the lighthouse before locking up." Two workers in coveralls stood up from the small card table. "Hey, do you hear a ship?" "Nonsense, it''s pass hours. They would have to anchor in a harbour-" CRASH "Coughing... Are you fucking insane boy?!" "Sorry! Freak.... I almost had it." Two days earlier~ Ah.... open sky and we''re almost to River''s Dawn City. A couple more moments and I''ll go back to communications. I might as well do some ship studying, I''ve never had an interest in merchant sailing before much less knew anything about it till now. Sitting atop the main mast''s crow nest, a young lad no more than 15 or 16 years of age with long burgundy hair and a culture and eccentricity aura look wistfully at the sky time to time. In his hand held a very compact book with little words and schematics of the ship he was currently on a voyage on. Bored the lad slipped the book into a coat pocket. The city that I lived in for the past 15 years still came to me as a surreal dream or nightmare. Consistent studying, albeit censored, and martial arts training in a private world of stagnant was my solace. Martial arts are the only way I could vent in that place while studying prove to me there was the world out there to be explored. I solely devoted my efforts and talent, the little I had, into training and seeking new knowledge, the rarer or random the better. Hence I quickly became the ''Welkin, the young genius of the century'', of course entirely senseless rumour was ignited by the bored homemakers that held more pride in their bloodline rather than life. There was an adage that men would say going out to brothels or gamble halls,''The Hen pecking the nest again" the nest being the man''s business and the hen, well it pretty self-explanatory. Though of course, it''s probably the woman who bring back bread to the house in this matriarchal society. One way or the other it somehow convinces the elders of the clan council to allow me on a diplomatic mission. Not out of goodwill, the elder most likely used this excuse of ''he''s strong enough, let him go'' in hope I meet my death. The book was fairly new, considering that every ship log had to be updated periodically every launching. I couldn''t help to be distracted by the vast sky and skim the contents. The sky was so different than the smog, or the ''industrial effect'' as the nobility humorously called it. But ou here you''d think that the sky was just the city''s sky, however, you would be mistaken. The air thins, blood madly rushes around your body, the sun isn''t the focal point anymore and the gentlest winds seem to behave like crashing tsunamis. Without training a magic art you would definitely be swept up by the air currents.
Ship Model: Light Air Sloop Able- Yes
ShipFunction: Merchant Class: Ox
Max Sailors: 50 of 100 Fathoms: 50,000
Guns: 7 Armed
Envelopes: 8 Semi-Rigid
Looking down on deck the hired crew grinned foolishly as it''s their first job in years. Eyes full of hope and desperate stares on the horizon to see the setting of their depression that has ravaged and essentially sold the empire into a plutarchy. Afraid of working too fast or too slowly the hands were jittery making a mistake or two. Raising the emotional stakes within their hearts. Ten have already died from the excitement of the first week. Falling into the cerulean blue not knowing which way was up or down. Crippling themselves in machinery below deck then preceding to fall under the Oil Sickness. "I wonder, how many years will this depression last for. Ten more, twenty, thirty, another century? I don''t live in this backwards empire... much less fix it with all the plutarchy has done to prevent it." Mumbling to myself a freak of nature twitches his ears and curls his lips from the main deck. The man was also known as captain, a true freak of nature. Not only are men not innately apt to the sky like women, they also aren''t as meticulous. Freak completely disregarded this common sense and developed his own trading company a century and a half ago. Luck, OCD or the other strange habits like doing things of three or four''s pertaining to odd and even things. "Ah don''t be so down young master, there''s lots of new to be depressed and repressed by! Just worry about having a new experience and enjoying the warm currents that foster the sails forwards!" Yea, I know. The Freak is right, I can''t always make a pity-party for myself everytime I think of my expendable role. Let''s just enjoy the voyage. The reason I''m here. "Thanks, captain!" "Oh and while you''re up ther'' look for some bandit airships!" "...Bastard." Hearing me the Freak or more commonly known as the captain, laughs and barks some orders at some overly excited sailors with poor results leading to a more cheery mood. Regardless of the couple deaths, the morale of the Green Linnet soared almost to joyous tears from the promised payment at the end of the voyage. At night, singing and dancing rang into the darkness. Women and men drank to sides of the ship, giving their... alcohol deposit, to the black clouds beneath. Caught up in the skyfaring I make new memories for the next couple days. Having my first sailor''s meal which consisted of a mysterious light-weight meat that could fill a stomach from small amounts. My family super advisor "strongly" advised me not to eat it without even acknowledging my existence and walking passed me, "Young master think of your image, that slop is no better than dog chow" out of duty and preceded to his cabin to finalise the top secret document that was to be delivered. My first compass lesson that came with a free compass from the captain himself. The word free has nigh disappeared from the depression which had made me evaluate the captain a little higher. My first introduce knowledge of the outside world. An entirely new branch of vocabulary, from what they called it... ah, sailor talk. I learnt over hundreds of new words and sayings that most had some sort of vulgarity in it. My first kiss... taken by that drunk freak. If he was alright in my books before, now he is just a freak. I vomit so much I wouldn''t be surprised if a mountain settlement thousands of fathoms down thought the spirits were cursing them. The most influential and remarkable memory however without a doubt would have been the day of the duels that took place. On that morning of the small tournament, the crew got a little too excited. ''Idle hands beget the devil''s means'' the Freak said.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Al'' rightly you little shits. You forced my hand, a tournament starts at high noon!" "Aye!!!!" The crew almost acted like dogs being promised a treat I was naturally confused. "What tournament? What are the rules? How do you prevent people from falling overbroad- "Shut up boy. You''ll know soon. And if yer'' have the guts you can get in too." The Freak laughed and later ordered the somewhat undermanned airship into a new manoeuvre from the unpredictable winds. The winds could be gentle as a feather or as sharp as a blade, unpredictable and dangerous, in short thrilling. This didn''t halt progress but certainly made the engines worth their frightening cost. A couple hours at noon''s end after fighting the sky''s breath the men fell to the ground while the women were barely keeping their demeanour as tough as the sky tales told by their fathers. Proving yet again another reason why women naturally took a matriarchal position in society, the men were designed for the ground, unlike the women. Nevertheless, the de facto deterred no one. Ragged of breath the Freak declared "Father Wind, you''ve been hateful today, taking up bird clearing duty. Why don''t you find a person to test your might and leave the birds alone for another day? Ah, as promise let proceed to the tournament. Everyone knows the rules but little Welkin, so I''ll explain for his sake and yours." The crowd groaned and the majority closed their eyes to regain some strength from the day''s work while the other started some private chats over betting. Predicting who would win and who would fall to their doom. "Rule number one, no intentional, direct or indirect killing. punishable by forced labour Rule number two, no breaking or battling against or with the safety cord. Rule number three, no bullying, teaching a life lesson is, of course, a must sometimes. Rule number four, a Floating coal must be on close hand or body at all times Rule number five, challenges are affirmed via the captain, otherwise known as this one." Smiling at the distraught sailors, who knew the captain liked a good show whether long or terribly short. The man just loves the violence of it all. ¡°Hahaha, Ruben you¡¯ve been feeling a proud of yer''s selve because of a little breakthrough in your Art? I think I¡¯d see it before I believe it.¡± A greyed and black haired man on the edge of his golden years laughed on a crate in good humour. ¡°Alright, just don¡¯t break your hip gramps.¡± soft and steady words sounded from anearly twenties man step forth into the makeshift ring of crates. If this was in any other place than an airship this behaviour would be rude to the extreme. City denizens demand a certain type of respect that is deeply engrained into their doctrines, religion, creed, you name it. ¡®Beat me up for weakness, but don¡¯t insult me for my weakness¡¯. Brutish in nature it appealed to the brutish nature of the country. In a way it brought an entire humility to a population, ceasing unnecessary conflict from petty remarks or opinions. Contrasting in the sky, what morals could exist other than the once you brought up. It creates a mirror for a person to realise their true nature. Which is essential for survival. Traits, particularly physical or speech, could tell a story for a seasoned jack. For an amateur like Welkin, all he could think was ¡®such impudence¡¯. Neither respected each other or even made a attempts to. Albeit in good fun, couldn¡¯t this lead to tragedy? ¡°I bet my money on~... the young fellow, Ruben was it? Underdogs are always a treat when they win.¡± ¡°Nah, the two obviously have conflicting natures. The boy is passive while gramps is aggressive. I¡¯d bet money on the old man, passive arts are typically stronger in old age.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­ I¡¯m guessing the gramps will win in~ ah, within ten moves.¡± Confident in one their own ability the two partisans beta small portion on themselves. To prevent any suspecting cheating. As the crew frivolous in speech eventually had the majority betting on the old man, no one quite noticed the subtly placed wink between the old man and Ruben. Except for Welkin, who just so happen to capture the exchange did not understand the complex workings outside of his shielded noble house. There was no way Welkin who was raised innocently could not fathom this shamefulness. ¡®Huh? Are they taunting each other? If so¡­ why is it so unnoticed by the crew, are they that absorb into bragging about their forethought on the fight?¡¯ Innocent to a fault Welkin believed he was witnessing bad sportsmanship and no one cared. A certain freak swaggered from gin to Welkin bemused. ¡°Boy, tell me, how did you discover the ploy made by those second rate cons?¡± ¡°Ploy? Aren¡¯t they taunting each other since they have no dignity?¡± Somewhat upset Welkin furrowed his brows. Eyes widen and teetering on his heel, the Freak gave a brass-like laugh that boomed the ear. Maybe due to his chubby physique, the sound travelled throughout the entire night like a drum. ¡°You¡¯re far too innocent for this harsh world. It¡¯s a good thing that you¡¯re engaged to warrior noble and not another stupid merchant.¡± Furious and defeated by the truth Welkin Zi Truze could only accept the reality that he, an expendable of the family, hit the jackpot regarding the family he was to marry into. But it did not mean his acceptance of it all had come to acquiescence within himself. ¡°Shut up, I don¡¯t even care much about it all. It¡¯s my duty so I¡¯ll fulfil it.¡± Mumbling under my words, the Freak shakes his head. ¡°Lad, live for yourself. Blueblood is no different from red blood. Everybody runs out some day.¡± Before I could speak a loud thud came from the deck. Turning to the duel, two men struck each other¡¯s punch, creating small red sparks and a falling green mist from the collision. ¡°You little brat only been two years and it seems you¡¯ve made a breakthrough in your art.¡± The younger of the two grinned and retreated at a fast pace. Following him, the old man seemed disappointed and a sad sort of gratification. ¡°You have grown up, you used to always fall for my Collective Fist art every time.¡± Weak, almost flickering green and red areas envelops the two. A sharp and fuzzy, plant-like, inducing odour erupted from the Ruben. Pulling out a deep green kitchen knife from the accumulated aura while a burnt rock or the smell of a flint being struck smell waft from the now congealed red energy on the old man¡¯s fists. Pressing forward with a smile, Ruben crouch holding the palm-sized knife sidewise as if it would parry the massive force that was the old man''s fists. Crack! A low hum emitting from a red gloves rupture. The old man clearly astonished look back forth at Ruben and his left fist. "Boy... You''ve really come far... I think you''re still gonna lose with that small knife of yours." Visibly angered, Ruben stayed true to his passive personality and maintain a stance where the knife slanted diagonally as if the be on the defence yet could strike at any time. Regaining his breath and left red glove the old man crossed Ruben for the third round, and the fourth, fifth, sixth all up to the ninth round. For most nobles, this fight would appear like children fighting, however, for regular civilians and Welkin who never witness a duel, this was two proud gladiators clashing against one anther. Creating small and long scratches on the deck along with gusts of compressed air from the collisions were proof on a great fight. Painting and losing speed the two came to the regular speed of the average person. Still exchanging blows Ruben yelled. "Viper Strike!" The green aura burst with its final remaining energy shooting the green knife upwards like a snake as the old man went slicing gramps shirt in two. Obvious who won the fight was not the old man whom blankly blinked as if remembering old times. Shaking his head to himself look towards Ruben and gave a short but dignified nod. ¡°You owe me a new shirt.¡± The crew, somewhat despondent fell silent. Then remembered this was the first fight they''ve seen in the year. Regardless of who won, like the Freak, the more violent the better. Like fireworks, they boomed with swearing and laughter. Then appeared, like the melted snow of the mountains, small streams lines of tears from their eyes, losing even a single copper coin was painful for the average citizen. Pooling together the total amount of thirty copper coins split upon three people two crew mates who like an underdog, and the Freak, the designer of it all, winning the majority, profited up to twenty coins. The crew although excited still studied the three winners, the two underdog-loving idiots most likely threw the bet in for fun without regard due to the astound ish faces they wore when receiving their amount. Looking at the Captain, most had no time to think about who they were suspecting of cheating they instantly refute the accusation with the impressive reputation the Captain had for equity even in the face of unfair expenditures. Especially in the almost free housing, he provided for the poor. Sighing and counting the loses, they remembered their promised earnings at the end of the shipment. Many making oaths to not squandered any more money till they had the wealth to do so. Welkin being naive, did not mean it affects determine his instincts were defective. When the crowd scanned for injustice Welkin felt a cold sweat go down his back as they seemed to be able to see any wrong doings. The Freak played it cool, simply giving a happy smile, more importantly, surprised smile that could have fooled anyone other than Welkin who heard it himself from the captain, the game was rigged. Glancing from the Freak to the crew, Welkin gains a new insight of the world he had to be so every carefully protected from. Noticing the boy''s reaction the captain smiled to himself. And had an almost too true thought. ''Haahaha, his family should be paying me for the lesson I just gave you. You don''t really see the con artist to the very end and if you do then he''s a shitty con. The boy is a... fawn, yea, still, bow-legged and not aware of what kind of cruel world this place can be.'' Walking to his quarters for rest the Freak stopped and turn to Welkin, who was walking up to him. "I guess I''m a shitty con?" Welkin too stunned and bewildered stood still for a while and found the Freak gone. "This world is truly too much at times." Tired from the excitement Welkin retire for the night. The next morning brought upon a change of fate for the crew and Welkin as a single yell could be heard throughout the entire airship via pipes. "Bandit! Fuckings Bandits are on the port side! Get up you Bastards!" Its Only the Main Engine Rumble.... Rumble.... Crackle-Boom! "What the hell! The ceiling is gone!" Wide-eyed, and pulled straight from his dreams, Welkin, stared mouth gaped for a couple seconds at the missing quarter sized chunk of the roof. Till he heard the Freak barking out orders at the highest speed and voice. Thundering commands to sustain the already burden apparatuses down below deck. The airship sunk lower and faster as the Sky Net machinery had already fallen. Allowing ample occasions for the wind pushing down on the ship. "They''re going above us, Captain!" The entire crew froze in fear for a good second and pressed even more obstinate in the face of oneof the most venomousand cruel tactics in an airship battle,AmmunitionJettison. Not only possessing an abhorrent potential for the ship below but also for the weakest part of the attacker''s airship, the keel.The rainingexplosives, poisons, acids, Ignition oil, andmagic. The list of weapon varied upon aship to ship basis. Nevertheless, these were the most common and feared. Welkin felt his knees becoming weak standing to the cabin door. Outside the room, the Family Advisor sat legs apart and nailed to the opposite door. A sword length splinter wedge between his chest and stomach into the diaphragm. Blood still flowingfrom his mouth after death, an inferiorhealth potion and green poisoned dagger lay in both hands. Welkin didn''t see any of this, he only saw the ugly, hatred and crazed-eyed expression thatlingered after death. H-he''s dead... he''s gone... why Stumbling to his room he immediatelypuked for a solid minute. The stench waft upwards to the cries of the crew''s retaliation against those damning bandits. Calming done from a violent shake to a steady tremble, Welkin stood up. "I can''t die here, I need more... I need more life to live. I will live! Okay, where''s my rucksack, it should have the key." Shifting frantically in pockets and hidden compartments, the keys still are not to be found. "Shit, shit, shit, damn it all. Where''re the keys! Only I have been in this room this entire voyage, so know one else could have-" Suddenly an image I wanted to forget popped out of nowhere. The Advisor, Bramwell, laid sitting against the door outside of the cabin. Convoluted expressions followed by two hands, one with agreen dagger and a healthpotion. "He was trying to kill me!... Wait, calm down. He could have appeared to protect and escort me to the safe room. He''s definitelyhere for me his room is the closest to the safe room, he had no other relations to the crew other than me. I n-need to search him."
Thud, thud, thud, thud,thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. Screams of order turn to warcries. "Bloodyfuckers have boarded us from above!" "You fuckers stop that guessing what they''re here for! Kill them all!" Freak boomed around a mile round. The 80 to 90 bandits were not pirates by no means. They were in derelict conditions, wounded, diseased, starved. They could not manoeuvre with the expertise of seasoned sailors. This made them even more dangerous, as for one, they would manoeuvreobvious tactics that most piratesavoided. Second, bandits did not adapt well to the air like those whose job align with the sky. This was why despite realising the airship was controlled by bandits, the crew was stunned by the blunt and direct attack. Making it difficult to react to unorthodox methods, however, now only a single round of cannon fire could blow the bandits out of the sky. But once again, the foolish bandits turn insane boarded them! No one would profit in terms of the crew lost in battle. While cargo is important for success trade, cargo without crew meant nothing if one wasn''t already at a port. A wily figure emerges from the crowd of bandits, pale-faced from the strength of the merchant airship it was the leader. Mumbling to himself, "What the are these badasses doing on a bug rank ship? Fuck my luck." Putting on an arrogant face, the leader saunter to the front of the bandits who had to regroup into a defensive position to protect their leader otherwise known as their employer. Noticing the undying and bloodied faces on the opposite side of the deck his face darken. "Captain of this bug rank, order your men down or watch them fall one by one. We have you outnumbered 1 to 3, your crew is only little more levelled than ours." Speaking slowing so the words would register within the merchants'' mind, the crew only became more insulted. "Fuck off!" "Yeah, we may be outnumbered by you but you''ll still die!" "Stupid cunts!" Curses and vulgar oath were thrown to the now uncertain bandits. Knowing his uplifting morale tactic not only failed, he just realised would most likely lose a lot of his men. At the edge of a cliff, he could go forwards in his attack on the airship. Gritting his teeth, an overly ripe fruit odour erupted from him as a murky aura surrounded him. "Shout all you want, look at yourselves. You are already down by five sailors and We''ve only lost 13. Die!" Charging forth, the leader felt heavy in his heart. Cursing himself for being inexperienced he knew this attack would make or break his current career.
Opening the door with now stained sleeves, I most likely resembled a cat about to jump at any movement. Softly treading to the now dark bloodied man the above deck explodes with a battle. I scream "What the hell?!" My heart beat should have never been this loud ever. I need to calm down. close my eyes and take a deep breath and search Bramwell. Counting his items I find a couple necessary clues for his weird behaviour. Bramwell''s inventory
Weapons: Poisoned knife Plain pen ----------------------- Condition: New
Clothing: Studded Coat Leather shoes Belted tunic Condition: Bloodied/Ripped
Potions: Lesser health Bad smelling Acid Sleeping mixture Condition: unknown
Keyes: Cabin 34 (CU) Bramwell''s safe (Fe) ----------------------- Condition: New
Grabbing all the small items and throwing them into the leather knapsack. I recalled the consistent cries of pain sounding from the deck. Running to down a stairway the sunlight that once shone through the ceiling was replaced with oil lamplight. Ow, my eyes weren''t ready for the darker corridors. I just for a while. Standing I keep imaging Bramwell, cold lifeless, that same surreal feeling appeared like someone would say ''Got Ya!'' but it never came. Resolving myself I find Bramwell''s cabin, unsurprisingly locked. Using the Key I picked up, the door creaked open to a very neat, and at the same time bestrewed room.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Still feeling the vibrations of the battle above deck I make haste on the search for the safe room key. Stubbing my toe whilst examining the bed I found myself lugging a large iron chest, that must''ve been above 100 kilogrammes. Red face and coughing I enter the key. Listening to the screams above for the last quarter of an hour I enjoy the symphony of pressurised air and iron ticks discharged from the mechanisms within. Iron Chest (unlocked)
Ruets: Weapon: Documents: Misc.
64 Small Air Pistol Marriage Letter Safe Room Key
Looking through the compartments, "Holy... 64 Reuts... that could sustain a bug ranked crew and ship for weeks. Assuming they''re successfully trading under a monopoly like salt or spices. Someone could start a business, even a small ground level business. According to the economy volumes in the library." Stunned for a couple of seconds, the intervallic battle noise awake me from the grandeur of the small silver coins. Filling the knapsack halfway full, I put the pistol into the side coat pocket and the key into my shoe. "Looks like I''m done here." Walking out of the room, I walk back in with a red face. "Ahem, I guess this is the cause of the whole conspiracy. Books speaking, it''s always the marriage partners'' families that try to break up the union because of business opportunities or of the such." Rubbing my fingers, I felt somewhat pitiful... and somewhat happy to be found in such a story-like setting. It could almost block out the battle... Oh yeah, I probably should make way for the safe room. Two minutes later the battle quite down to just sabre and pistol shots.
"..." "... You''re... the only one." Flesh ripped into ribbons and clothes caked into his skin, the bandit swayed left to right, never turning away from the five remaining merchant crew still standing. Opening his mouth words couldn''t come out, only a croak. Noticing how the situation had fallen from unadvantageous to a complete wipe of his trusted subordinates. The middle-aged man''s eyes darken, thinking of how he would die from his piss-poor luck made a sinister and wrathful gleam appear in his aura, making his iron-shaving scent turn rotten like sulphur. The merchants noticing the change felt their throats stricken by a fraction of a second. Thinking stimulatingly ''What the hell, he made a breakthrough during a fight?'' Taking a defensive formation the merchant slowly positioned themselves to the higher deck for strategical purposes albeit minuscule. The Bandit leader''s swaying stopped and a smile curled something sinister, the light was finally gone from his eyes. The man was broken, the lost of his crew and future had destroyed his hopes of buying an estate to run a business on while playing with noble women in the lower city. This provoked the most hidden and limit guarding a person had. Turning his race''s potential to its most basic form, in short, an animal''s potential. The blood stopped, and the ribbons began to fuse back together with an unhealthy red colour. Roaring into the vast blue like a common beast then ran, dropped onto all fours. The distance closing the finale men and women had their life flash with their resolves following ''I can''t die here! My child needs the herbs from my pay to live on! I want to watch Ruben live happily unlike my life! I need to make this pay so I can restore my village! I want to embrace ten women at once, how can I when I''ve died!'' With a battle cry, the two parties'' distance closes, one attacking and defending. "Aaaah Diiiieee! Go to hell!" Preparing to leap into the air the Bandit''s smile stricken like ice, then fell face first into the deck with all the momentum he had put in his charge. Looking closely, a hand was grasping the ankle of the man. The hand came out from some bandit corpses, clean and unmarred. The person that had tripped up the crazed monster... was Freak himself. "Oi oi, you kill over ten of my people and expect to get away with mutual destruction?" Crack!The most blood curling scream emerges from the bandit, his spine and ribs splintered and broke from the Captain''s stomp. Still animalistic, and screaming the bandit tried to run away without regard to where or how far he could go. "Piece of shit, even though I could beat the shit out of every one of you filthyou had to bring over 80 men just to get the job done?! You dare murder, my crew?!" Stomping without the goofy and fatherly like atmosphere the Freak went from a dandy persona into a near manic one. Torturing the man by destroying all the bones that cause immense pain like the femur, not killing himself. Ten minutes later, exhausted physically and emotionally from the loss of the hope-driven people he''d worked with for the past weeks, Freak gave a last hard punch to the flesh warped face, then preceded to cast the garbage overbroad without looking. Taking a couple breaths he finally checked up on the remaining stunned and shaking people that look on in horror. Not even the derelict slums where races of all kinds were captured for slaves or forced labour. Rumours of the new week rape or murder could prepare them for the harshness of the unlawfulness of the sky. Calming themselves down didn''t take long, they realised in the end... they were alive, and it was thanks to the legend himself that supported the poor with housing and trade. In a way it made them subconsciously put their faith into him, this was what all captains possessed, the actions and motives of a leader. Not just words thought and beliefs. The rage he felt towards the bandits were because of his crew not because of loss of payment or anything of the sort. Before any words could be thanked from the sailors, Freak gave an order "As the mission has digressed so far, its no longer has importance to mention this... The reason for the attack on us right now is because of Welkin." "The Captain''s wealthy nephew?" "No, he''s not my nephew, he is the reason for the trade mission. Not for the salt and food below deck." "What?! So he''s the reason so many of us had to die?!" "No, this was supposed to be a simple escort mission where the noble and advisor would reach their destination in Root City. Someone must have either use radio transmissions to contact the bandits in order to locate our position or they came upon us by chance. Both of which are unlikely but bandit stumbling onto to us is an even bigger miracle." "Then... someone betrayed us?" "Correct... There only needs to be one to down an airship, therefore the crew hired are always check and then double checked for criminality and various personality traits that can be assessed by past guild records and so on." "So... the bandits weren''t the masterminds but rather the ones who manipulated the guilds?" "Aye, and there is only one type of power cable of commanding influence over municipality businesses, the Nobility. Leaving this attack not as one of thievery, rather an assassination." "Welkin was below deck right? He should be in the safe room by now, or at least near it. You five look for survivors, heal them with anything you have. I go look for the lad."
Died, he''s dead. That man that just fell just... died. Gone... Welkin still in the ruptured chamber, where the safe room lay at an angle, had tears, not from sadness over the man''s death but rather the abrupt and cruel way he died without ceremony and family surrounding him. A new sense of mortality and fragileness dawned upon me, death wasn''t partial. Death could and will one day take me to the underworld. Bile from me has already become a slimy and drying mixture now, luckily the ship rations That I had been eating for the past week are design to be efficient for the sky where many would lose their meal quite often. Though that fact didn''t stop Welkin from burping from nauseousness couldn''t move. Why is this happening? Because of greed? Survival? Madness? Where''s the morality of humans? Thinking questions that I could not answer but only desperately try to find them suddenly felt a redness come to my throat. Travelling from my cheeks to ears. A deep crimson red of shame. Something soul burning as if putting my body into an iron oven. Why am I so ashamed of myself? Thinking about it, shame came to someone when something else couldn''t come to fill that void. So, could it be because I don''t have the strength to contribute to the crew sacrifice? No, I don''t think that is the answer at all, that''s not it, not even close. ......That''s it, I don''t want to be useless. I don''t want to die and let others die too. I can at least fire the pistol. Breathing deeply I open the cabin door, prepared for the onslaught of bandits. Face first into a soft wall? "Uph, Well looked who showed up finally." "Freak?! You''re o-okay?" Still pudgy and smug, Freak had some new wounds and was covered in blood. By the looks too much to be his own. "Aye, it seems the mission has gone awry. Additionally- Eeeeeeek...Boom! the ship has taken some minor damages." "You call that minor?" "Well, of course, anything is minor as long as your life is guaranteed. TheGreen Linnet has been through far worse." "But, we''re still sinking?" "Aye, but have you notice? The sky isboundless. our own empire only takes up a very small bit of it. By the time we hit the ground level it would take days. If we lost all our engines then we''d a day tops." As the captain spoke a light smoke entered the room from the air grates. Filling the room with an oily black smoke. "cough, cough, Is this whale oil smoke? The sailors said the only black smoke you''d find on a ship could only be whale oil." "They are right too, it seems that explosion was one of the engines. Probably the main too." "The main!?" "What? It''s only the main engine." Walking now with me stumbling over the broken wooden beams, chairs, beds, lamps, and barrels, the Freak walked as though he''d done it a thousand times. With a relaxed With that relaxed expression, you''d think he would a plan. Wait... "Do you have a plan to stop the ship''s descent?" "Nope" Ah, we''re doom.