But it's attacks are so haphazard that they likely wouldn't have hit home even if it could see her.
Bessie's head begins to rise, far higher than it should be able to unless...oh no. The realisation of what is happening hits just as you hear Markus' shout-
THERE'S A CRUSH COMING, GET DOWN AND HANG ON!!!
Bessie has reared back onto her hind legs, an instinctive response to a threat - she's hoping to create enough noise to make it go away. The crash down will be coming at the end of your next turn.
Also - pass a DC 15 fortitude save or be temporarily deafened from the noise.
Gerome's sword bites into something that just does not feel quite like flesh should, his blade heralding no blood but tiny globules of light. The angel-thing seems to pay it no mind, instead diving towards Ouroboros and attempting to lay hands upon him.
Its hand settles on his shoulder and holy light spills forth...at least to the eye. To the fiend-blooded Ouroboros however it is clear this is something quite different - whilst his brain is telling him that holy power should be burning his skin right now the physical sensation from his shoulder feels like something...else.
It feels like electricity.
And at that - nowhere near enough of the stuff to overcome his innate resistance to it.
Then the remaining angel smiles... and explodes into nothingness.
The thin clouds that had been filling the sky thicken and swell with rain, a heavy waterfall of the stuff near instantly cascading down out of what had been clear skies. There's an all too close rumble of thunder...
And now to Gerome there is no doubt, that thunderclap happened after a massive wingbeat. Of what exactly he isn't sure - but it's getting closer. Fast.
Reality shudders, grinds to a halt, glitches wildly and then restarts.
Now there are 4 angels of mercy standing before you. Although the gentle smiles they used to wear now somehow look...sinister.
BZZT swipes the golden jaw off the ground and reaches for his safety line, hastily buckling it back onto his harness.
Salt feels the ground shift and drops to her knees before aiming one last shot at the creature.
Then the world around them...explodes.
A rush of upward air is followed by a single great sound of near-unimaginable impact that both Salt and BZZT can feel reverberate throughout their entire bodies, rupturing eardrums and filling vision with stars and colour, following close behind this comes a flesh-quake that puts the previous difficult terrain to shame. Disoriented and wobbling the pair stand no chance at keeping their feet and both go sailing off of opposite edges - the precious safety line rapidly playing out behind them.
Vision clears as you fall...but sound won't be back for a little while yet.
OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
Salt scrambled for her safety line, pulling the cable to attempt to tighten it off. The emergency brake slammed into effect, 150 or so feet below where she started. Then a new issue. The ballistic Svirfneblin coming toward her at speeds aproaching ludicrous. They collided, bouncing several times before Salt could pull the little man under her arm.
The lack of sound was a problem, but nothing new, the great bell from the temple had deafened her more than once as a kid. Nothing a good night's sleep (or magic) couldn't fix. Bessie's colossal neck streched out above them, still undulating from the force of the impact. Then she looked down.
The scene below was stunning. The roiling dust of the desert cascading away from Bessie's feet in great concentric waves, blasting in and around the creatures, easily as big as large houses, chasing, and being chased, by pinpricks. Salt guessed those were the Outriders. They must be... She watched in awe as five of them rode down a spawn, bright flashes then the great formless mass came down hard in the dust and disappeared, leaving just a massive jaw quickly lost to the dust storm.
The whole scene was eerie in it's muffled silence. Salt watched until the wriggling of BZZT under her arm broke the reverie. He was mouthing... something about getting back up top. Salt leaned back in her harness for a few more glorious seconds, enjoying the feeling of freedom just hanging in the void.
What she now realised (and accepted that the little man would never understand) was that this was f!!$ing incredible.
The world turned upside down. BZZT barely had time to reattach his safety line before the deafening crash and the tumbling. Then the colission with the purple one. BZZT tried to do the maths of what was happening, the forces involved, the coefficients and variables, all to take his mind off the falling and the smashing into Salt. Then she caught him and, in the least dignified way possible, held him still. He looked down. Repressed the urge to throw up. Then looked up. That was somehow worse. He was a DEEP GNOME, for Rhombodazzle's sake! HEIGHTS WERE NOT HIS THING! BZZT couldn't hear his own screams of terror. They were lost to the rushing wind and his own newfound deafness. Salt, it seemed, was deaf to them. Or ignoring him.
Probably the latter...
Wriggling was the order of the day. He needed to get her attention that they needed to get back to some semblance of ground. NOW.
Of perhaps more interest is what the lightning illuminates being catapulted out of the sand by the force of Bessie's stride, a structure of some sort of gleaming metal, huge compared even to the fully sized Storm-Spawn that circle it in increasingly random patterns. It must have been wedged against something below the dusty expanse as the sheer weight of Bessie not only leverages it out but sends it flying into the air.
Very, very, very high into the air.
Salt can only see that the strange thing is big, sleek, seemingly made entirely of a black but shiny metal and that the edges are very sharp indeed. The whole thing looks like maybe a...vehicle? Of some kind anyway. Though how the propulsion of the thing would work she hasn't a clue.
The engineer inside BZZT sees much the same as Salt...the archivist however has a great deal more to say.
That thing must be...no way...
Storytime.
There are currently (as far as you know) 12 great Cities spread out across the land, each created and led by one of the great Archaeomancers. Not to say there aren't a great many other settlements and towns dotted all over the place - but none of them warrant being called a city with a capital C.
Yet...there were once more than 12. A good few more in fact. The currently relevant one of these now gone Cities being the City of Stars. By all (heavily edited) accounts a place of wonder and exploration. But not exploration of the face of the planet. No, the City of Stars set the Dark Tapestry itself as the target. And with borrowed technology and unknowable magics they created an innumerable number of ships like the one below, launching a full 100 craft into the void in a great celebration of their might. These ships were to be the pioneers of the City, set to scout, learn and gather the secrets of the darkness between the stars. The data they would assuredly bring back serving to create an even greater fleet with which that horrific place of nightmare might be subjugated.
But the ships did not come back.
A year.
A decade.
A century.
And the ships did not return.
But something did.
What that something was is unclear, witnesses from a great distance describe the sky itself seeming to catch fire, a huge blast of light and heat, the dust and ash rising into the air to clog the sunlight for days on end.
There were no close-by witnesses.
The City of the Stars died that night, along with everything for miles around it. The site of this impact? Why you've just come from there. The far newer City of Gold is effectively a giant mine sat directly over the ruins of a former City. Scraping what it can from the total ruination of an Archaeomancers plans.
And one of the ships assumed to have triggered that disaster just came perilously close to swatting you both out of the sky.
Then it sinks, silently (to you at least), into the dust cloud once again.
Something big is coming!!! Gerome calls to his comrade. the appearance of another two angels terrifies him beyond words, and yet Ouroboros keeps swinging and keeps taking them down. He sucks up his courage and throws himself at the nearest angel.
Ouroboros is slightly surprised by the jolt of electricity he receives from the angel, but it does not hurt him. He grins, newly filled with confidence.
They're melting, He thinks, And they can't hurt me!
He swirls is scythe around and attacks anew.
The remaining 2 angels glance at each other, the unnerving smiles briefly flashing to rictus grins of mania before swiftly returning to their odd serenity. They face one another, weaving fingers together as if about to begin a serene dance.
A giant wingbeat can be heard over the wind and a lightning bolt swells outward from the two angels, swallowing their forms completely and flying up into the air.
A howling gale picks up, thunder breaks, deafeningly close. A cage of lightning seems to form around the entire area as storm clouds darken the sky to near pitch black.
An eye forms in the centre, directly above, the wind and rain die away and a spotlight of sun illuminates you as the unreachable circle of blue sky grows to hold a steady size.
But it brings no relief.
A shadow appears overhead, blazing sunshine casting it in silhouette. Slowly the great penumbra descends towards you, swooping down on gigantic pinions, lightning dancing across its blue-black plumage as wicked looking talons flex underneath, a primeval toothed beak opens to give a haunting cry as it makes a low pass, giving a great idea of just how very big this creature is.
It circles, eyes of glowing purple tracking your every movement. Then it banks, facing you. A single wingbeat accelerates it forward in a crash of thunder, a second fills the sky with lightning and wind, a third and the eye of the storm snaps shut, bringing back the pouring rain and plunging the world into twilight.
And in a final grand flash of lightning it is upon you, wings raised, talons extended, mad eyes glaring into your soul.
The Master of the Storm is home, and you are not welcome.
Gerome! Blackblood calls out to his comrade, apparently frozen in terror, What in the name of all the gods, is this?
He tightens his grip on his scythe, assuming that this is a part of the storms illusions that Gerome had previously described. He stares into the eyes of the beast, mad eyes, eyes or terror, surely not a minion of Sarenrae.
He hesitates, Gerome?
And he takes the brunt of it directly to the chest.
This time the bolt proving strong enough to blast through his resistance.
Yet the exchange is not unequal, as Ouroboro’s scythe cut through the creature so too did it seemingly cut through the storm itself, a massive gash tears through the encompassing thunderclouds, seemingly burning them away to allow the bright sunlight to illuminate the platform upon which you stand, the hole above mirroring the wound Ouroboros inflicted in shape if not in size.
The creature itself swerves violently to the right, apparently not dealing with the pain of its wound very well. A scream of pain and it puts distance between you, circling at a range you cannot hope to reach.
At least, to Gerome it sounded like pain. To the twisted ears of an anti-paladin it said a bit more. Pain yes, outrage too, surprise, offence - perhaps at the way he did not die...
And below all that the tiny little tone of something very sweet indeed.
Fear.
Pretty... I wonder what did that?
I wonder what happens if I drop an Alchemist's Fire from up here?
Wish I had some grenades... Or a rifle. That'd be fun.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Salt hangs lazily, merrily lost in thought, bathing in the sun. BZZT still flailing manically under her arm.
FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK! NOW IT'S BRIGHT TOO! FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!
Gerome bursts into action as he sees his... not his friend, his kidnapper? struck down by the massive bird. He would not let Ouroboros die, not because he liked the man, though his character is oddly compelling, and his presence in dark times reassuring, but because he still held Tyrone captive in some unknown location. That's what he told himself anyway as he raced to place his healing hands upon the Teifling.
As he let the magic do it's work, Gerome turned to face the sky beast, rapier out ahead of him.
The great bird struck true, sinking massive talons into Blackbloods chest and a jolting him with enough electricity that any ordinary man would fall. But Ouroboros Blackblood was not ordinary. The blood he spat from his mouth was the blood of the Rakshasa. He was not done yet. He hefted his Scythe for another round.
The hands of his tiny companion suddenly pressed against his arm both surprised and humbled him. He took his eyes off his foe, circling in the sky above him, for just a moment to acknowledge the little gnomes healing hands.
So he was to die hip to shoulder with this little gnome. So be it. Perhaps no one would sing of his misdeeds after all.
Feeling strong he readied himself for another attack.
As it swoops into the sunlight the shadow of its body seems to concentrate against the brightness, turning the beast into a silhouette of darkness topped only by the mad staring gaze of glowing purple, such is the size of the creature that as it approaches you'd be forgiven for thinking night had fallen in an instant. A talon of deepest black, laced with violet electric death comes at you both at near undreamable speeds, aiming to sweep aside your trembling weapons and crush you to paste...
The claw strikes against your blades...
The reality of this strange dream flickers, a blink of utter nonsense...
And the real world remembers - a storm is not a bird.
Flesh and sparking blood burst into the cold wet vapor of a cloud, the deadly thing unravels before your eyes with a single last great scream, the terrible eyes the last thing to disappear, the storm that had surrounded you melts into nothing as beams of sunlight burn the gloom away. The white cloud that had been the monster rises into the air, seems to writhe for a moment in an effort to stay together...and dissipates.
The sudden shake of the floor from the forgotten footsteps of Bessie whisk you back into the suddenly bright sunlight of reality.
You're back on top of the carapace.
And both weapons clatter to the floor as something else forces its way into your grips.
Both Ouroboros and Gerome are left each holding a large purple egg. The shells roughly twice the size of a humans head, heavy with yolk. And maybe something else...
And just like that - the storm disappears. Thunderclouds and purple lightning melting away as if they had never been. The Storm Spawn down below follow swiftly in its footsteps, bursting into vapor at the touch of sunlight.
Bessie comes to a halt, relaxing as the threat disappears. Salt and BZZT swing back and forth a few times in the silence of their temporary deafness - then both feel the sensation of someone manually hauling the lines back up onto Bessie's back.
Awwww...
Salt looked disappointedly out into the void as she felt the line start to reel in, enjoying the last swings of freedom and warm sun before returning to "stable" ground.
I wonder what the pod was...
BZZT had stopped flailing, and was now excitedly gesturing down toward Bessie's feet.
What have you seen, little man? What do you know about that thing?
Salt gave a thumbs up to indicate she'd seen it too, and hoisted him into a more comfortable position to ride the lines back up.
I need to learn to fly...
THE POD! THE POD NEEDS TO BE FOUND!
BZZT couldn't hear his shouting, but he hoped someone else could. As the line reeled him and Salt up, he pointed and shouted, hoping Markus at least would hear and understand they needed to stop, to dig that thing up and examine it!
Ouroboros sags in relief as the bird and storm dissipates. He looks to Gerome who is studying his egg carefully.
So? He asks What did we win?
An old rhyme comes to the mind of the bard...
To face the thief inside the dream,
Fear to lure, hate to gleam,
Rage and joy to bring down hell,
Fight your fight, fight it well,
Then master of the storm arrives,
Steel souls, affix your eyes,
And when great shadow charges down,
Strike as one to earn the crown.
It's obvious now what that big thing was, though obviously it was way weaker than it should have been - maybe to do with it all not being real? Anyway - that thing must have been a THUNDERBIRD. A creature certainly deserving of the title "Master of the Storm."
In fact there's theories that Thief-Storms first manifest when a Thunderbird dies, generally in less than pleasant circumstances.
And to go by the rhyme...well, it charged, you both struck. So now you've..."Earned the Crown." Which is apparently an egg. Each.
I mean...a Thunderbird is still a bird...
Down below the carapace - atop Bessie's neck, you can both hear a faint but obviously shouted tirade of words, apparently to do with some kind of pod?
Speaking of the shouting svirfneblin...
Markus finishes hauling both Salt's and BZZT's safety lines up, hand over hand. You couldn't hear it before for obvious reasons but it's clear he's laughing his head off, very happy about something.
The bristled dwarf winces at the shouting tirade, not that it dampens his mood. Glances at Salt and points to his ear in understanding, producing and handing over a couple of potions and motioning to drink. His brow does furrow at the mention of this "pod," and he seems quite happy to let Bessie remain standing where she's stopped, a rumble of...pleasure? Coming up from the neck as Bessie enjoys the sudden warm sunshine apparently indicating her agreement.
Markus jerks his thumb over his shoulder towards the carapace, he sets off, still laughing, back into the office and up the ascension cable.
Ouroboros and Gerome have never really seen Markus smiling before, it's somewhat off-putting. At the sight of the twin eggs Markus almost charges over to the two of them, clapping both on the shoulder in congratulations.
HAHAHA!!! Knew I made the right choice sending you two up here! Just look at that! Two Storm-Eggs! I was expecting ya both to drive off the thing at best - and you go kill it!?!! Well done! WELL! DONE! HAHAHAHAHA!!!
Taking a deep breath he manages to calm himself, the normal slight scowl of an expression coming back - though a distinct twinkle in the eye says he's still in a good mood.
So? he says Ya know what ya both got there?
Salt gratefully takes the potion and chugs the viscous liquid in three mouthfuls. The world slams back into audible clarity, and she gently sets BZZT on his feet, smiling calmly.
Thanks Boss!
The gratitude is genuine, even if the words feel sarcastic, shouted after the rapidly retreating Markus.
Checking that BZZT is steady on his feet, she takes off for the office and to meet up with Robbit.
BZZT steadies himself, then looks closely at the potion. Watches Salt drink hers. Watches for a few seconds more. Then drinks his.
Boss! There was a ship. A ship from the City of Stars. I'm sure of it.
BZZT fled after Markus as far as his little legs could muster.
Salt followed and grabbed a line up. Stepping off onto the Carapace, she offered a fistbump to Ouroboros, patted Gerome on the head in an almost friendly way, then looked over at the purple eggs.
What'd you kill, Robbit?
Gerome murmurs an old rhyme under his breath. When he looks up from his egg, he's surprised to find himself surrounded by his party.
Oh! He smiles up at Salt as she pats him on the head. A Thunderbird Egg? He half asks. He knows, but he's not sure what it mean.
Ouroboros looks up from his egg at the arrival of his admirers. Salt was the first to reach him, arm extended awaiting his fist bump. He obliged, though never really understood this custom.
You would have enjoyed yourself up here my friend, he says to the girl smiling a rare fanged smile, We got to punch Sarenrae straight in the mouth.
He turns back to his gnome companion. Gerome never stopped surprising him. He had recruited the bard because he was in need of the his healing magic, and desired a herald, someone to write songs about his misdeeds and run ahead to warn of his coming. The fact that Gerome had this spark of innocence and goodness about him that was just begging to be corrupted, was the juicy cherry on top. But he had never expected the little gnome to take up his sword and fight at his side. Not willingly anyway. And yet.
Gerome was having his spare hand ringed by Markus and his head patted by Salt, he was grinning like a loon. The sweet innocent child...
Thunderbird egg? He ask Gerome, who always seemed to know what was going on. Do you mean we will hatch a couple of those feathered beasts? His yellow eyes dart between the gnome and the dwarf. Someone had better fill him in. Already he is beginning to imagine...
An image of himself, flying through the storm on the back of his great eagle-like mount, raining thunder and lightning down upon his unsuspecting victims filled his mind.
Think of the the drownings as the waters rise and engulf the innocents homes. Think of those crushed under falling stone and wood as lightening strikes and destroys their villages. Oh just imagine the songs they will sing. They'll tuck their children into bed at night, and tell them to be good or Ouroboros Blackblood and the Great Storm will come and take everything you love.
Could it be? Had Zyphus sent him a gift from the Gods?
Close lad, close. T’weren’t the real thing ya fought in the dream ya know? More like something the storm remembered. Those things ya both got there? We call em Storm Crowns - after that ol’ rhyme you was hummin just then ya know. As for what’s gonna hatch out of em...well that’s more your call than anything else. Get yerself a good idea of what it is ya want and the thing’ll do it’s best to oblige. Only real trick is that you really have to want it.
He smiles again, almost wistfully this time. Before the sound of something cracking gets everyone’s attention.
Ouroboros egg suddenly cracks in his hands, tiny sparks flying out of it as a small toothed beak breaks free, swiftly followed by the rest of the bird as it flops onto the floor, still giving off sparks. Aside from being covered in the eggs albumen and having its eyes closed it looks like a completely black tiny twin of the thing he had just faced down in the dream.
It’s head immediately turns in Ouroboros direction, eyes still shut and unable to open it still seems to know exactly where he is. Rubbing its small forehead against his trousers the little thing lets out a squawk of obvious happiness to be near him. And us the remains of the egg are cleared away the glued down eyes begin to open. A hellish red glow against the black feathers.
It climbs on to his foot, wraps wings around his leg and two lots of small but already pretty powerful talons grip down on his leg. It attempts to climb up higher, but slips and falls, sprawling onto the ground. Only to immediately try again, with the same result.
That's f&#!en adorable! You killed one of these?
Ouroboros ignores the hyperactive aasimar and gently scoops up the small creature smearing sticky goop up his trouser leg. He studies the hatchling for a few moments, raising him to his face to get a proper look at the scraggly wet plumage.
One day this will be fiercely beautiful. he thinks.
With all the gravitas he could muster (after all he was about to name a creature brought forth by his God) he says.
I shall call you Storm Fury, and one day, we will do great and devastating things.
He then placed the little weakling onto his shoulder foe safe keeping.
Gerome watched Ouroboros with a mix of fascination and jealously. The Teifling proudly displayed his Thunderbird Chick on his shoulder, like some sort of demonic pirate from the pits of hell. He looked sadly down at his egg and gave it a small shake.
Where's my bird? He thought. Though in reality he did not want some taloned beast that could wreak seven levels of hell and damnation upon the world. Maybe something kinder and gentler and cuter?
Nuzzles against Ouroboro's head, then opens beak. Plaintive cry for food.
A little lightning bolt accidentally shoots into the tieflings shoulder - though it is no where near strong enough to do him any damage.
The tiny bang produced by the spark startles Storm Fury, almost causing him to fall off the shoulder. Two large black wings spring open and flap desperately to remain in place, accidentally clouting Ouroboro's in the face in the process.
There is a faint - but unmistakable - rumble of thunder. A few wisps of cloud spiral up into the air.
The little bird regains his footing, gives a little trill of happiness. Resumes demands for food.
Gerome's egg sits, warm - but still, in his hands. Evidently he needs a more concrete idea of what he's after.
Salt watches Storm Fury intently for a few minutes, before turning back to Markus:
Boss, we saw something... big launched out the sand where BEssie put her foot down. Can't be more than a hundred feet back along the trail. Little man seems to think it was a ship from the City of Stars. Could be valuable. Or if nothing else, full of useful tech. Permission to go take a look?
She kept her voice level and professional, but her excitement was obvious in the rare light in her black eyes.
Maybe there's something that explodes in there...
Gerome’s ears prick up at the talk of the City of Stars and listens intently. This sounds like the beginning of an exciting adventure.
Oh can we?! He looks from Salt to Markus. Please.
He seeks Ouroboroses eyes, hoping to see his consent, or a sparkle of interest in those slitted yellow orbs, but the Tiefling is far too interested in his new pet. Was that a pang of jealousy?
Sadly Gerome looks back to his own egg. What he would give for his own companion. Something cute and fluffy, fiercely loyal and both willing and able to protect him in battle. Blackbloods Storm Fury will one day be huge enough to ride, but Gerome would be content wth a little friend that would ride upon his shoulder, and zap anyone who threatens his safety.
Finally catching his breath, BZZT looks around at the assembled party.
I can fill in some of the gaps, but I expect taking a closer look will be better. There may be something fun in there...
He looks sideways to Salt,
Or maybe even something explosive for the insane angel-spawn over there.
Salt shifted her weight and pouted slightly.
Aww, did the little man not like his flight?
Whatever gave you that idea...?
BZZT is still visibly shaking, his voice hoarse from shouting.
Markus strokes his magnificent mane of a beard in consideration.
Not too sure bout yer lost ship there little grey man - but I’m sure as hells willing to believe that Bessie kicked up something in that little run of ours just now. Sparkfinders lot’ll want to be throwin’ a party bash and to start divvying up the jaws anyways - and all my girls could use a good long soak in the sunshine yer friends so graciously provided us.
He pulls what looks to be a collapsible brass horn from the small knapsack seemingly permanently affixed to his back and blows a series of ringing notes, he pauses and waits for a few seconds before an answering barble of sound comes from the back of Bettie.
Bessie herself gives a trill of presumed happiness that thrums in the air - clearly she knows from past experience what the notes mean. A stiff breeze picks up as she turns her vast bulk to rub her face against Bettie’s. The two titans communication briefly audible as a fantastically deep rumble before it sinks into a frequency well too low to hear.
There’s a barely legible whoop of exhilaration from far below - though the fact you hear it at all is markedly impressive as at the same time the crew beneath you explode into activity, the sounds of heavy loads and whizzing cables filling the air, along with indistinct shouts of happiness and celebration.
Come on then, he nods downwards, We’ve all gotta clear off the carapace before they can start opening the shutters. I’m checking the girls, cargo and crew - in that order - so if the four of you want to go traipsing over the stirred up sands be my guest, if you find something good let us know and the crew’ll help salvage - you guys saw it first so you can have the first picks of the pile if it turns up gold.
Gnome? Be back this evening for a performance, pick something lively. And stop scrunching up yer face like that - you gotta know in your bones what you want, thinking about it won’t help any. Be like the daydreaming boy with the bird over there - thought you bards were all about the creativity?
Speakin’ of - Snake Brat? Congrats on the hatching. Stop by supplies on the way down, get yer beast somethin’ ta eat. Good hunks of meat’d be my suggestion.
And with those words of wisdom he swiftly descends into the bowels of the tiny city Bessie carries atop her back.
We'll go looking, Boss. Hopefully something fun down there!
She looked around at the assembled crowd.
Who's ready for an adventure?
Scooping up BZZT, Salt jumped lazily onto a groundline and began her descent. Looking over her shoulder,
Robbit, get your bird fed and meet me down there! Who knows, we may have something to kill! And Little Green! Let me know what you're playing and I'll dig out my guitar! WHEEEEEEEEEEE!
With Salt's joyous cry, the line carried the pair down toward the distant ground below.
Oh s!&%, not again...
BZZT quietly resigned himself to once again rocketing through the air on a structurally questionable wire using little more than a footplate and a metal tube with some (probably unstable) magic and magnets involved. But the nice, solid looking ground would be back under his feet soon, and that meant he could get a close look at that pod.
Salt! He shouted through clenched teeth and over the rushing wind.
I don't know what we'll find in there. But I want you to be careful. This won't be like magic, tech is volatile and can do some things we don't fully understand. If you're serious about the path you've chosen, patience is vital.
Is that concern, Little Pirate?
Salt blinked a couple of times against the wind. In as serious a tone as BZZT had ever heard from her,
I know I tease, sometimes break things, rush ahead and pull stupid stunts... But I care. And I've got your back. The angry Snake and the little Green guy, all of you are all I have now. I'll follow your advice here. You go first, and I won't touch anything that glows or looks like it goes boom. You have my word.
Salt's demeanour suddenly shifted to bright again as they neared the ground.
And besides, if you go first, I don't need to worry about the traps!
Salt deposits BZZT on the ground, then shoots back up to Bessie's back, through to her bunk to restock on ammo and snacks for the coming adventure.
BZZT smiled gently behind his massive white beard.
She may be an a@+&~$@, but she's not entirely a dick.
The ground felt good beneath his feet, even the shifting sand a comfort after the dizzying heights of Bessie's head. And now for digging! Digging was fun, it meant going under the ground and finding shiny things. A little of the ancient Gnome still lived on in BZZT. He was grey, yes, but every so often a little spark of blue shot into his dark eyes as the hint of something exciting and new came his way. And right now, that spark burned brighter than ever.
And actual ship! That's not something you find every day. I hope some of it's still working...
He pulled a bar of some or other jerky from his pouch and started tearing it apart with his teeth. The salty, dry meat reminded him of Vulkengard and the markets, of the home he could never go back to...
Ouroboros gently stroked the little bird on the head, chuckling at its tiny attack. One day he will be so fierce. Not today though and he certainly wasn’t going to take his new feathery friend into an unknown dangerous location.
He can keep the goat company. he thought, returning to his chambers. He carefully made a small nest of towels, placed it up on a shelf and deposited Storm Fury to rest. He then found some dried meat in his ration pack to feed the tiny creature and set about packing his gear. He’d certainly need his usual adventuring gear (paladin kit) his bed roll and rations, and of course weapons. He double checked his black chain mail armour, tightened his wrist sheaths and daggers, and picked up his scythe from the bed where he had previously tossed it. Maybe he would find some fresh meat for Story Fury on his adventures.
His hand was on the door handle ready to leave when he remembered.
The goat... he was not a monster, not when it came to animals, and so he was taking great care to ensure the Tyrone was well fed and watered. He pulled a blanket from a large crate at the foot of his bed, and peered inside to find the goat nestled in straw, chewing on a carrot. He checked that he had enough food and water for a few days, and sling the blanket back over the box. And that was that. With a swoosh of his dark green cloak, he left the room, careful to lock the door behind him, and headed down to the rendezvous point.
Gerome took the opportunity to return to his quarters. The egg was too large to carry into an adventure. He placed it lovingly on his bed, and went about packing his gear. His trombone was his pride and joy, and would certainly be needed to keep moral up during the adventure. He had cleverly adapted a loot strap so he could sling the trombone over his back and have it ready if an unexpected battle began. He was already armed and armoured he just needed his adventuring kit and rations and he was ready to go.
Sliding down the cable to the ground, he landed with about as much grace as a dancing hippo, right next to Salt. He smiled shyly at the colourful lady. She was so pretty, but also terrifying. And not just in the way that pretty ladies were often terrifying. He swallowed hard and half stuttered.
Ready?
Ouroboros dropped down next to him like a silent phantom.
Ready. he said, patting the gnome on the head.