Snippet #2363305

After being latched to another ship that had hurtled powerlessly toward the ground below, it was a wonder to behold when Raruna was able to stabilize their own vessel, after Jedas rescued the outboard party and severed the ties that bound them to the falling airship. As they powered away, Grim leaned over the deck to watch the runner smash into the ground -- his elixer's eyes noticing the flash of stannum that emanated outward in an orange shockwave. No doubt the caithness spawned by such a cataclysmic engine failure would be a truly monstrous creature -- the northlander couldn't help but wonder about the fate of anyone unlucky enough to cross its path. With many years as a guilded caithness hunter, Grim almost felt compelled to have the ship brought back around to investigate the crash and the subsequently spawned caithness, but with Dr. Serabel dedicated solely to the mission, there seemed little chance of that. Perhaps on the way back from the huldrefolk territories he could convince the others to scout it out with him.

"You should get some rest if you need," he advised to the three who'd gone aboard the runner, and to Jedas as well. "It should be smooth sailing from here." Although they sounded dangerously like famous last words, in time his prediction was borne out, as the airship made good time for the rest of its journey north. For his part, Grim idly circumnavigated the deck several dozen times, gladly speaking to any of the others should they engage him in conversation, but not seeking them out himself. Each time he reached the prow of the ship, the expansive mountainous region of the huldrefolk drew a little closer, as though sneaking toward them each time Grim turned his back.

"Get ready to bring her down, Raruna," he requested. Although not in the mountains proper, the ship flew over the gently sloping foothills that were home to the northmost human settlements. Scattered throughout the landscape on either side of the airship, Grim could see a small settlement here and there, with lone watchtowers interspersed among them. As they slowly made their descent, small clutches of caithness could be seen roaming the open hills. Spawned not by a large, refined caith crystal but by random fluctuations in the ambient atmosphere, these caithness were small, meager things hardly worth the time to hunt. Farther north there would be even fewer encountered, as the huldrefolk had systematically cleared their mountain homes of virtually all caithness over the countless ages of their ancestors.