One by one the group recollects the next morning -- some early, some on time and one preposterously late. The doctor greets each newcomer with her oddly stern manner, but seems grateful for each of theirs presence. When any of them ask her about Cortland or the locator, she asks for them to wait for everyone else to arrive so that she can speak to them all together.
"Thank you all for bringing this to my attention," she began once everyone arrived. "You were of course right to do so. Let me bring you all up to speed. I have no association with this Cortland, although I don't doubt that he is an Applicator. As I told you all yesterday evening, there are those in my guild who would gladly see this mission fail, or better yet take control of the artifice prototype for their own calibrations. Please, any of you who were approached by this Cortland, produce the locator. Keep the marks for yourselves if you took any."
As some members of the expedition had already brought the matter to the doctor's attention, she knows who to trust for their honesty, but any who have not yet acknowledged their conversation with Cortland, now is the time, as she turns to each of you one by one. Isengrim shrugged innocently. "No, I never saw this Cortland," he replied. "Wouldn't have minded an extra 500 marks though," he joked. Dr. Serabel hesitated before moving on from him, but she nodded thoughtfully.
Once everyone has shown the locator, she looks to each of the party members. "Now what do we do?" she asks them all.
When everything is ready for launch, the doctor notifies Raruna, who is quick to get her craft airborne. With a controlled yaw and roll the airship rises free of the other craft, ascending far too quickly for some of the more sensitive members of the crew, namely Isengrim and Jedas. A surge of power from the large stannum crystal embedded in the heart of the engine room kicks the ship forward with a lurch, and soon the airship is cutting across the landscape toward the northern horizon.
Although the plains north of Barberry are not known to be especially hostile to travelers as far as caithness go, the skies are another matter. Airships are among the newest and certainly rarest of the major artifices of Allevent, and whereas caithness hunters on land and sea have somewhat stemmed the tide of caithness around the more civilized areas, in the air the party finds itself subjected to a steady stream of these random encounters.
The first fight outbreaks when a clutch of Arrowhawks swoop from the cloud cover to land on the deck, giving their piercing scream as they launch themselves at nearby party members with slashing talons and their wicked hooked beaks. Not expecting the assault, each party member is caught unawares and has to fight alone. For himself, Isengrim took a vicious wound to the leg before countering with a crushing blow from his iron totem that reduced the beast to a stream of released caith that dissipated quickly, like the last breath of an extinguished campfire. A paltry few stannum crystals showered the deck at his feet, glittering orange in the morning light. When Isengrim released a small amount of the aurum in his reserves, the other elixers of the party would see a few golden butterflies flutter about him before landing on his wounded leg, disappearing with a flash of golden sunbeams that healed his wound.
From then on the party is on alert, taking on the new random encounters in small rotating groups. Each member plays to his or her strengths. For his own part, Grim eagerly takes on any caithness with attacks that are too strong for the others to risk -- such as Spinetails or Butcherbirds -- using his bountiful reserves of aurum to nullify their attacks while dishing out his own. Conversely the large northlander swaps out with another party member whenever a particularly evasive caithness approaches -- such as Lightningales or Horned Screamers -- as his own attacks are too lumbering to be effective. The one caithness that he always fights is the Goldcrest, which is likely to release precious aurum upon its defeat, with which Grim refills his reserves. The one caithness from which he always retreats is the Nightjar, an argentum-type Caithness that often casts confusion spells to which Grim is particularly susceptible. Not wanting to turn his heavy iron rod against his own party members in a daze, Grim wisely takes cover whenever one is spotted.
In this fashion, the airship skims along the clouds on its journey north.