Illorn will grit his teeth at the nobles braying but keep quiet, focusing on keeping an eye out for any sudden moves from the knights or the scouts.
Garm is unimpressed by the noble's laughter. The worst their laughter signifies is mockery or death. Unlike that of the Druchii, which usually signified that - and much worse.
With teeth that are not yet gritted, he replies, with emphasis:
"Our might *would* be of great aid to the force that wins our favour. We require details. Size of forces, locations, whom is allied to whom. And scholars who might understand Low Gothic, the common tongue of our crew. Are you willing to provide such or point us to a worthy source of such?"
"I know nothing of your forces bar what I see before, small in number and strangely clad but no wizards or great beasts. You may have some skill but men of great skill die in great numbers these days. If you'd know more of the war take your flying boat to the east across a great mountain range. After a time you'll spot a large river follow it up or down stream and you'll find one of the larger cities of the Empire there either way. The distance is too far to know more than the forces of Chaos yet descend from the wastes they hold as their own."
"As for your low gothic, I have never heard of it perhaps to the east you would have more luck but I would hold little hope."
Garm seems more satisfied:
"We have more men, we are merely seeking information. I thank you for your directions and advice. I will speak with my crew."
He turns to the others.
"We are in the Duchy of Lyonesse. They are unimpressed by the 'mercenaries and anarchists' in Remas. Apparently, 'hordes of chaos' burst forth from the wastes and this duchy are sending forces to this great war in the east. Where we might have more luck finding scholars who know low gothic. They only see our meagre few here and not our main strength. I say we continue east and see this fighting for ourselves. It would be less frustrating than dealing with the locals."
"Chaos? I haven't hear about those before. A battle would give us a good opportunity to see what kind of technology is on this planet and acquire some more gear".
"If there is naught to gain here then let us sally forth from this place and leave'th these inbred fools behind" Illorn states flatly. "Their braying begins to vex me, and they wouldst nay like the me whence I am vexed."
"Indeed. Gizzard, get ready to exit."
He turns and briefly speaks to the knight:
"We will take flight again and see this war for ourselves. Goodbye."
Turning again to the crew, he begins to walk towards the shuttle.
"We leave, for the east. If only to scout."
"Yes Captain."
Gizzard will get himself and the shuttle ready to leave.
Illorn will take the last bite out his apple, look the noble fop in the eye and toss it towards where the scouts are hiding, before joining Garm in walking back towards the shuttle. "I wouldst lay good money down the ploughing sop hath never earn'eth a thing in his life since his mother hath squirted him out" he will rumble to Garm as he walks beside him, letting out a short laugh and pointing dismissively back over his shoulder with his thumb at the knight.
"I would not take that bet Illorn!"
Garm chuckles softly, while walking forward and not glancing back.
"I would not try to land your flying contraption in the cities to the east. They are less civilised but far more inclined to take you for some sorcerous assault and destroy you. Do not do so in any of our cities either, fair warning is given land outside if you return here but do not expect such an esteemed reception."
The cavalry moves away as your shuttle takes off.
Heading east the rolling hills give way to a large thick forest before a mountain range stretching far to the north west and to the south east. Beyond it are more lands heavily wooded but you can see fields and other signs of the land being tamed. A large river the one the knight must have spoken of comes into view though it is well over an hour and a half at high speed since you left the coastal city. Do you follow it downstream to the North West or upstream to the South East?
"We should head north east as well be scouting the lands closer to the ship."
"The knight advised against landing in the cities of the east, less 'civilised' and prone to shooting at us. And should we return here, to land on the outskirts and not expect such a 'dignified reception'."
Garm chuckles, then coughs.
"That sounds fine, Gizzard."
You get a vox transmission from the ship. Various xenos and human forces of small size were encountered on the hull. Light fighting, a few casualties. Known engagements have all been largely in your favour but there is an exception. One squad of armsmen is missing with no, two bodies found and signs of fighting but several unnaccounted for.
Largely the enemies didn't seem interested in protracted fighting. Only one had guns but more than one had a witch openly using powers.
"It's clear that we're being tested. We should try to find out what the various factions are here and try to either ally with them or destroy them. Either which way we can't return empty handed."
"Yes. But we must learn soon, or learn what a shuttle crash is like."
"I wouldst imagine tis similar to what occured before, except on a smaller scale" Illorn will say. He is currently checking over the heavy stunner "I dislike being from our ship or' long. If we doth not find aught of use soon we should'st turn back."
Illorn seems uncharacteristically uneasy.
Following the river north you come to a large port city that lies on the coast. Far more smoke is emitted from this city than the previous one encountered, possibly suggesting a more advanced industrial base... comparatively.
"Aye but this city might prove more useful. If we still have fuel to return safely, land on the outskirts."
Lax shifts from his seat and puts his hand on his inferno pistol.
"Illorn back on the ship you told me to be honest with you. Now it's your turn. Tell us what has you rattled"
Garm turns to Lax.
"Good question. Take your hand off your gun. That's an order."
Lax will do as he's told
Illorn, who had been slowly rising from his seat in response to Lax's threat, relaxes once Garm takes command, and addresses him directly "Nothing solid, Captain, 'tis just a feeling in my wick. Something...something be'eth unwell and I know naught what. But it be'eth the feeling I hath had before on occasions whence all went to s#~&." Ilorn will sink back down onto the seat, contemplative, but will then grunt and look back up at Lax, a hint of the once growing rage flaring momentarily.
"Thou shouldst thank thine Captain, boy. He hath save'eth thee a broken wrist. Thou wilt not be so lucky next time."
"Illorn, if you can pin down what that something might be, I'd appreciate dodging such things. Lax, do not let fear make you foolish. Unless one of us is about to kill someone, you have no reason to draw."
Philips adds "We've got one usable shuttle. Should ye decide to attempt to kill each other please do not damage it."
Lax looks embarrassed.
"Sorry Sir, it won't happen again, I've just never seen Illorn nervous before. Truth be told I didn't think he could be nervous"
Garm does not openly reply to Lax's last comment but the thought gives him reason to reflect.
After a moment, he speaks to Gizzard:
"Take us down to the edge of the city limits - and away from any cannons."
Gizzard sets the shuttle down about two kilometers from the walls of the city. The farmers in the fields nearby retreat from you and signal horns are noised. The ground outside the shuttle is a little softer than you'd expect being quite moist in the field.
A group of ten cavalry in breastplate with pistol holsters on their hips as well as a sword ride towards you but stay on the nearby road where the ground looks much firmer and better suited to cavalry. Their riding beasts appear to be horses but of a smaller and lighter breed than ye saw in Lyonesse. They each have twin flintlock pistols drawn but so far are not pointing them towards you.
You are thirty meters from the cavalry. They call out but it is not in low gothic.
"Not this again" Lax sighs. "Gothic do you speak it?"
The man calls out in another language... you think the one they used in Lyonesse.
Garm grimaces, then speaks:
"Or the tongue of the Druchii? Though if you have a wise man who understands low gothic, you would make my day much brighter."
One of the others turns to the previous speaker and says something in their barbarian tongue. Then turns and calls out in the same Eldar dialect as in Lyonesse.
"You would address us in such a foul tongue. None have heard of this low gothic of yours. Voice your allegiance and intentions."
Illorn will wait beside Garm, weapons sheathed, keeping an eye out for any trouble.
Gizzard will wait on the ramp of the shuttle with his bolt pistol holstered at his hip.
Garm makes a sound of annoyance, then resumes speaking, from the sound of it trying to be diplomatic.
"By foul chance, this is the only tongue any of us know that the people of this world understand and I am the only one who knows it. I am Garm Dariyal, captain of The Hymn of Battle and sworn to the Lord Trader Dupont. These are fellow crew. We seek wise men who can translate languages for us, so we would know this world. We have spoken with men of Remas and of Lyonesse, and have heard differing accounts of this world. What is the situation? Is there war here in the east?"
The man responds more Grimly to Garm this time.
"We have not had the worst of it here in the League of the West but are far from untouched. Raiders from the Sea and Beastmen of the Forrest as well as deserters from the East plague us. Trade suffers. The war rages more fully in the Empire to the East, they are our distant kin but we broke away from them long ago."
"Still we have sent men hoping that the Hordes of Daemons and Chaos Worshippers do not reach us in the numbers that assail them there. The forces of Chaos are Roused once more."
"You may find scholars who can speak many tongues here but I've never even heard of this Low Gothic of Yours."
"I think I understood a few words of that. I also speak High Gothic and Trader Cant. Can you ask them it they'd heard of those?"
"I see. Could you understand any of my man's speech there? High Gothic? Trader Cant? If none can speak these, would you be willing to trade for a map of the world?"
"All those tongues sounded much the same. What do you have by way of trade? If a map had the whole world on it then it would be missing details. The far off corners are rarely visited by any who comes here and there are places where no sane mortal would tread."
"But you have come to the worlds greatest port of Marienburg, men from many Kingdoms and other peoples come to trade here. If you come to trade and abide by our laws we will see what can be made of you servants of Lord Trader Dupont. Your ship Captain Garm Dariyal is somewhat small for so grand a title but airships are valuable and I've never seen one such as yours."
Garm continues speaking, at various points gesturing to the shuttle.
"Those tongues unknown as well. I see. We have much to trade, gold, gems, technology, knowledge, the services of skilled armsmen, for the right items.
"This is but a shuttle for conveyance and scouting, tiny compared to the Hymn of Battle, a ship with thousands of crew. Excuse me for a moment. I would inform my men of where we are."
"We are in Marienburg, the 'world's greatest port' and a great city of trade, in the League of the West. They too send soldiers east to face -", he pauses, "-'hordes of daemons and chaos worshippers'. They have no inkling of low or high gothic nor trader's cant. Airships are rare, I have explained this is but a scouting conveyance."
"Captain, excuse my interruption. If this is the world's greatest port do you think we can buy anything resembling full for the shuttle? Ideally resembling fuel more so than not. We're ok right now but we can't keep hopping around this planet like mad c!+%s without it becoming an issue."
"A good point, Gizzard."
"You say airships are rare, but are any around Marienburg? And can fuel for them be found? Promethium and the like?"
"Aside from you the only ones I know of who would come here are dwarves. They might know of this 'promethium' you speak of."
"Dwarves? Do they speak this tongue as well? Otherwise we would need to bring someone along who can translate further."
The man's eyes go wide.
"No doubt some of them do but I wouldn't open up negotiations using this language. At best they'll increase their price. At worst they'll refuse to deal with you or attack you. No our tongue or their own would be best. You'd need a translator."
"I guessed as much. Can you recommend a reliable translator who knows dwarven as well? Or three? I would give a personal guarantee of safety and worthy reward for service."
"I think I might know a few places where you could try to pick up some scholars."
"My thanks. I would see these places, with your direction."
Garm turns to the others.
"We will enter the city. This man knows a few places where we can try to pick up scholars, after I suggested that worthy reward would be offered for translation service. And it looks like we will need them. The only people around here who might have fuel worth the name are 'dwarves' who both speak their own tongue and who may attack us on sight if they hear me using the Druchii speech. Perhaps a scholar quickly trained to use a microbead might work for negotiations?"