Elric Mahal's Story

The sun slowly rises above the horizon, the surface of thick clouds becoming clad in shades of red, pink, and orange, and this colorful display was seen infinitely in all directions, seemingly no end. Within this sea of color moved a single spec, tiny in comparison, and this spec drifted as if it was asleep. This spec was the Wayfarer, and although it had looked better in its twenty years of service, some of the patches where the finish of the hull remained shimmered in roughened glory. The vessel, tried and weathered yet still strong, by this time has been out at-sail for nearly a month now, and its occupants are almost out of supplies, almost out of ammunition, and have been out of patience. Just the night before, the Wayfarer stumbled upon a herd of sky-serpents, snakes not even a foot long that glide through the sky-bed and breathe a short spurt of fire, and the ship was forced to react to nearly twenty or so of these serpents, not helping the already low morale of the crew. It was not a particularly hard fight, but everyone participated in some shape or form, the targets too small for any canon usage, so if anyone aboard managed any sleep it was not much. However, it at least has been tranquil on the ship, no movement on deck or in the halls below deck, and the only sound is the soft humming of the engines, an almost soothing ambient noise.

A muffled voice breaks through the shattered silence. It is the very basic intercom system that the captain uses to send quick messages, surely more effective than sending the cabin-girl to deliver messages to all crew members. The captains voice was muffled and cracked coming out of the rickety make-shift speakers, but making out what was said is not all that difficult with familiarity or practice. He spoke in a casual tone, which at least gave rest to any worry they were in danger yet again.

*All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant need to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all.*

Caintry released the button under the rickety microphone, the metal circle popping out with a click, and with the announcement done he knew he only had a minute before everyone was gathered. He slumped back into the chair, giving a quick huff in coordination, and he decided to give one final notice to his notes before heading above his head to the quarterdeck.

The desk in front of him was littered with askew papers, rolled up pages, ink blotches dotting the surface of each one, and frantically scribbled notes beside open books; it was as if a printing press had exploded in front of him to form a fine layer of writing. At the center of the clutter was a map tattooed with drawn lines and side notes, a book that read “Duden’s Guide to Places without Guides”, and a paper that seemed to be donned with the documented thoughts of a mad man, so despite the disorganization, there was a clear purpose and achieved goal to the mess. He had checked his math with the navigator, inquired if any “off the map” islands were known of by the adviser, effectively complained to the First Mate, and checked over all defenses as well as offences with the Sergeant, and the fruit of his labor was three equally mysterious choices to resupply and put the crew to work.

Paradiso, the lair of pirates and thieves where Caintry’s mischievous soul could find an infinite amount of trouble to get into.

Parada, a rock covered in jungle in which the crew of the Wayfarer might very well be the first to reach its true depths.

Perodo, the tiny jungle island that became home to a peaceful colony with the same name, but right before setting sail it was rumored that Perodo had went dark for a month at the time, meaning no one has heard of it for two months now.

A devilish smirk, one signature to Caintry, slithered onto his cheek, for he was always one up to explore the unknown and dive into trouble.

Caintry reached for his gyeroot tea in an almost celebratory manner for mayhem yet to come, but a thought stopped him from taking a sip. This is a new crew, he thought, how many of those have I seen? It seemed at first a simple thought, he even began to innocently count in his head, yet it really hit him when he flipped the question. How many crews have I lost? Caintry had been the captain of the Wayfarer for a little over twenty years, a crew member of the ship twenty years before that, and although some would argue that is not much in the long life of Denaucmen, that does not make it shorter. Forty long years or forty short years is till forty years, for time travels the same for all. A solemn mood fell over Caintry as he struggled with his runaway train of thought. Was it due to his leadership? What could he have done differently? Should he have taken those jobs in the first place? Should he have known? Finally, one thought struck him that summarized his pondering.

Do people follow him into the darkness, or does he lead them into the darkness?

However, before Caintry could finish these thoughts, he broke out of his pensive state by realising he was going to be late to his own meeting, and after throwing the entirety of the gyeroot tea back in one large gulp, he swung up to his feet and began to make his way to the door, the smirk returning right where it was used to being.

Varsh was in the middle of a long series of stretches, unwinding his muscles from the brief skirmish yesterday. As he stretched, tired muscles groaning in pain, he reflected. He thought back to the fight yesterday, fighting a species he had never fought before. Air snakes of all things. They had caught him unawares, and in the heat of battle he had realized his sword was too large for these small beings. So he preceded with bare hands, giving his war cry, a gutteral shout that would have sent odd little shivers down the backs of his crewmates and gathering the attention of the snakes. With odd little hisses and shrieks they all swept towards him, with little gouts of flame lancing towards Varsh, singing his cotton shirt and burning his arm slightly, both of which he ignored with extreme disdain, but the pain did activate the first round of adrenal glands, causing his muscles to swell, and his pupils grow wider. With a deathshead grin he grabbed a pair of snakes and bashed their heads together, scattering brains and blood everywhere, and then went for more to grab. While in his mask of rage, he barely noticed the crew doing their best and accounting for sky snakes right along with him.

Varsh was going deeper into the reflection when his Captain’s voice interrupted him. Ending the stretch immediately, he stood to his full height and strode out the door of his cabin, clad only in pants and leather vest. His shirts were cleaning. This put on display his powerful physique, and also the burns and scratches that covered his arms and shoulders, most still an angry red, the scratches not even attempted at being covered. His hair was bound back in a warrior’s knot. As he strode to the quarterdeck he began barking in a loud and powerful voice “All hands report to the captain’s cabin! All officers to the quarterdeck! Time now!” After yelling his orders he moved up to the quarterdeck to observe the rest of the crew as they assembled.

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Loud banging rattled the ancient wooden walls of the Healer's Quarters. Needless to say, Eire wasn't having the best day. Most of the crew would agree their night wasn't all fun and games, but no one, no one, loved sleep the way the young Arcadian did. The woman paced her medium-sized room that doubled as the sick bay for the crew, slamming cabinets open and closed again after grabbing various supplies for the crew. She stomped her feet [a habit she'd picked up from the flightless races] as she walked from one side to the other, but her light weight didn't give it the same satisfying THUD.

To make things worse, she'd been up all night preparing things for people who never showed. Feeling useless as well as tired, Eire sat twiddling her thumbs after healing her own wounds. Well, she actually spent her time whipping up a new pain elixir she'd been working on, but she felt as though her time was wasted nonetheless. Perhaps she should have been used to the members of her crew tending to lick their minor wounds in private by now. Eire couldn't help the disappointment that burned in her stomach, sometimes a girl wants to heal a nicely scrapped knee or a little snake bite. Healing only life threatening situations tends to get boring. Eire took a deep breath and settled her annoyance. Despite her feelings, she was happy that no one on the crew was grievously injured. To lose someone after the long months abroad would be even more disappointing.

With a resigned sigh, the cherub slumped down on her bed next to an open porthole and felt a chilly morning breeze roll in. Just as she got comfortable, the telltale crackle of an announcement filled the quieted room, "All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant needs to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all." It hadn't taken long for the healer to pick up the skills to decipher announcements made on the speakers, though she did suspect hers was one of the best behaved.

"Of course!" Eire called as she jumped back to her feet in one swift motion. She ambled to the door, swiping the elixir from her desk as she passed in case anyone had wounded more than their pride. With a flick of her wrist, magic flipped her 'DOCTOR IS IN' sign to the otherside. It now read: 'DOCTOR IS OUT; OF HER MIND'. She'd made it herself in a language only spoken in Arcadia, and as far as the crew could tell the sign only translates to the first half of the statement.

Though she wasn't in a hurry, Eire caught up to the growing party of her mates that had already arrived at the Captain's Cabin. Minutes after arriving, thought it felt like hours to the cherub, she was already bored. More than anything, she hated to be kept waiting. Sure, the officers likely had something important to discuss, but that didn't make it less boring. To find something to entertain herself with, she examined the crew. The minute her eye caught the first burn hole, her eyes flew to her own blouse. Directly to a rather large hole with singed edges just above her navel. Cursing aloud, she vowed then and there to use those foul beasts in her soul-sucking research should she ever see one again. This day couldn't get worse.

The Cannoneer's unique scent arrived long before he did. He trundled up the stairs with Carina in tow. The poor girl was hobbling in a fashion the healer had only seen in the extremely old or the extremely sick. Again, the Arcadian's temper flared a bit, but was quickly squashed by a more overwhelming wave of professionalism. As Shenk and the navigator joined the crowd, The healer eyed the red potion in the woman's hand. Scoffing inwardly at the painkiller, Eire offered the blue elixir to the Navigator and called, "You're going to be late at that pace; not even a quarter to the way of the quarterdeck." She laughed shortly at her own joke before adding, "Perhaps you should take this instead and stop by my Quarters after the vote. Please note should anything unusual occur. I hope it helps."

After sending Carina a hopeful smile, it didn't take Eire long to regain her previous boredom. Turning to Shenk she joked,"So. You're cheating on me with painkillers, eh?"

In the depths of the hold a faint hum from the corner brought a smile to Elric’s face as he nursed a mug of mead between his large, gnarled hands. The bees were acclimatising to the height rather well, and the abundance of flora that had spread across the hull were keeping them amply supplied, and doing the same for him with honey to brew into this sweet nectar. As he drained what was left he turned away from the hives to see the lithe form of a silvery cat stretching on one of the nearby crates before regarding him with an almost human look of disappointment.

”Aye, I but it’s too early for you my sweet, even if It’s a fine brew.” he muttered and held up one hand placatingly which merely got him an equally disapproving look before the cat lifted her tail and trotted off towards the far end of the hold where the Quartermaster made his bunk, where she paused by the makeshift heap of furs and cloth.

This was shortly followed by a faint pause of unnatural silence, almost akin to the sound of the universe taking a breath. After which a small girl now sat on the furs with a scowl across her face and arms crossed.

“Hasn’t stopped you from drinking it though, Papa. And don’t try saying you’re bigger so it doesn’t affect you. I’m not young enough for that anymore.”

”Well then, that’s me told isn’t it? And it’s for ye Aftahs, lass.” He chuckled, almost tauntingly as he reached over and filled himself another draught of mead which he drank a little slower to help fill the silence between them while her continued glare began to soften.

“I don’t like being holed up down here, Grandfather. I miss the open air…”

”I know but It’s safer to be on the move mo cridhe, and this old girl seems to be our best bet for that.”

“You ain’t told me who we’re running from neither… or have we just spent these years fleeing our past?”

”Your mother never stopped with the questions either lass, but aye, fleeing’s as good a word as any. And whatever chases us isn’t something I want catching us.” Before he could voice much more the old speakers flared to life, barking the tinny and gruff voice of the captain in an almost deafening tone.

--- All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant need to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all. ---

”Well, seems like duty calls, eh lass?” He sighed and placed the now empty mug down on a nearby bench before furrowing his brow at the empty air where his granddaughter had been moments earlier. As the distorted echo of the announcement died away he saw a pair of feral eyes glaring at him from under the thickest corner of the bedding, accompanied by an equally disgruntled growling. Chuckled to himself he reached over and lifted some of the furs and leathers up that revealed themselves to be a thickly hewn coat which he draped around his shoulders.

After a shake of his shoulders to help it settle he reached down to pick up the agitated fox in his hands, gently scratching behind her ear for a moment before laying her down again. A little bit satisfied that she’d be somewhat settled he began to make his way above deck, barring the doors to the hold on his way out as he did so, since he didn’t wish to enable her midnight roaming. Small clouds of dust spiralled into the air to accompany his climb upwards, stirred from their rest by the pounded of his heavy feet on decking.

Stepped into the open air he took a large breath and stretched his arms wide, cracking the bones in his back and neck to help ease their stiffness. He shared the confiding feeling that bothered his wee one below and took some comfort in the freedom above, wondering if keeping her hidden was perhaps the best course. He knew she didn’t take to it, and feared for her discovery especially given her habit of sneaking around during the night regardless of his words of caution. Sighing softly he glanced towards to starboard side of the ship where his companion, Kaela lay curled up with her paws resting on the half chewed remains of two flying serpents. The rest of the crew may not have been keen on the creatures from their earlier encounter but the Dire Wolf certainly had few qualms in regards to their flesh. As he looked she raised her head slightly before stripping a little more meat from the maimed beasts.

Pleased to see that someone aboard was enjoying a filling meal, since rations had been running low of late, he strode towards the captain’s cabin where it appeared several of the others had already gathered ahead of the coming vote.

As soon as Caintry swung open the door to his cabin he saw the crowd that was his crew waiting, and he silently cursed to himself, seeing as it was probably bad he was late to the meeting he called.

He gave a grin of appeasement and begun to walk through the crowd.

The first face in the crowd to standout was Killian, not because he had a pretty one but the fact that it expressed how little he wanted to be here. Caintry typically hired whimsically and sporadically, but engineer is one of the few positions of the crew that has to be filled to survive. Fortuitously, he had found Killian as a stow-away right after their last engineer had met his untimely demise, and Caintry was not one to waste fortune.
“Happy to see you, as always, Killian. I presume you are making friends,” said Caintry in almost a sarcastic chuckle, if detectable.

The next face in the crowd was that of the pale, cold, and hard Lady Mercy, and it just occurred to Caintry that she reminded him of a marble statue of sorts, the thought bringing yet another smirk that would be the many throughout the day. She was tall and tough, Caintry sometimes doubted whether he could take her in a fight although he would never admit it, and he could tell she underestimated her Captain, which he liked and was cause for the growing of the smirk. He could detect sadness behind the eyes of the statue, and he wondered if statues really did have the ability to peer into souls of the people who make eye contact, as the old women of his village would have him believe so long ago. Just for the sake of trouble and the analogy, he made sure to lock eyes in his greeting.
“Lady Mercy, I am shocked to see a single hair out of line,” he said playfully, not quite teasing, “Careful, some might mistake you for human.”

As Caintry continued his way through the crowd, his gaze now fell upon Robyn Janye, the cabin girl. Caintry had the talent of having lived a long time, and in that time he acquired the skills of reading eyes. However, you did not need that to see that Robyn was acting tougher than she was, and he almost admired her acting so tough. He wondered if she still thought that he was a pirate, but either way he might as well confuse her.
He let out a histrionic and dramatic “Aaargh!” with even the one closed eye and hooked finger as he passed.

Caintry barely noticed Matrist as he kept walking, the man having an almost uncanny ability to not be seen, and he shared something in common with him that he wondered if Matrist had noticed. Matrist, like Caintry himself and Varsh, were almost like people plucked from a different time, given Caintry was plucked back in time and Varsh and Matrist forward, and there was almost an understanding in a shared disposition.
Caintry simply nodded in his direction.

Next he saw Nadia leaning against a wall. She was one of the military trained people aboard his ship, but she seemed to lack the discipline one would see in a professional sailor, and that was good. The freedom and lack of structure he provides was much more suited for her creativeness, and he was happy to provide her with the environment, given she does not send the Wayfarer into the unknown below as the product of an experiment.
“I hope this time you were nicer to the speaker, or are you the one that is going to tell Robyn she better obtain running shoes,” he remarked with a nervous laugh, hoping that he did not actually have to buy a new speaker.

Next was Jia, the monk-cook. That was enough to hire her immediately, could not get much more unique than that, but he begun to wonder if the cook part of the title was just added to get the job. No matter, she had an interesting story, at least her eyes said as much, so he probably would have hired her with no cooking experience at all, if she had any now.
“Good to see you as always, Jia.”

For lack of time, not favoritism, he quickly rounded the corner, up the stairs, and took his positions among the officers and planners looking down on the rest over the railing; he made a note to give a greeting to those he missed. With a clearing of the throat, he began his briefing.

“A nice morn, I hope all slept well. You all look, well… terrible.” Caintry paused. He meant to only give a small introduction to each of the three islands, but as his devilish instincts tugged on the back of his mind, a smirk once again began to show itself.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer, and I assure you none of you know what to expect. A long time ago, I first came into contact with this beauty of a vessel in a rather special way. The Wayfarer was neither the first airship I found myself working for or the best equipped, but she has always been my favorite and the only one I actively tried to work for. Why? Story. She was the most interesting, simply. My old Captain brought me on as the ship’s scout, thief, cheater, or whatever you wanted to call me, and why did my glorious, honorable captain pick me? I was the best, and I was the most qualified in that degree of expertise. Obviously I did not stay in that position, I am now standing above you on the quarterdeck. So, that leaves the question: why did I bring you on? Surely, in line with the practices of my good Captain, I would carefully choose only the best for the job, the role, when selecting who is privileged enough to be a member of my crew. Well, no, not even close. Some of you, I wonder, probably never did the job you agreed to do before coming aboard. Most of you would not ever in your right mind agree to come aboard this airship, as well as no Captain in their right mind would ever hire you. Some of you had no choice but to come along, helping more than one of you escape your respective authorities, and some of you would have joined any airship. So, again, why did I choose you?

Your eyes.

Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story. I could not know whether you would serve faithfully and turn out actually suited for the job, such as when I took Varsh on as muscle, eventually being promoted, or stab me in the back and attempt to burn my ship down, literally in some cases in the past, but neither would I care. In short, you are not the most suited, but the most interesting for your respective jobs. You are, each and every one of you, fantastic stories.”

For a moment, an instant of noticeable sorrow fell over Caintry, a hiccup of melancholy or a blink of solemn, but he did not dwell.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer,” he continued, the signature smile that had only wavered returned and his tune still cheerful, “and although we are not heading into any of three islands with any certainty about anything, you can depend on the fact that we will find trouble, mischief, and something to preoccupy ourselves anywhere. That, my dear…” He thought to say friends, but stopped. “That, my dear crew, leaves us with our choices and your voting. You have had it rough enough lately, so I will let you decide where to dock. Well, I will let you vote on where to dock, and as long as your choice doesn’t sound absolutely dreadful that is where we will go… Well… Forget what I said, just vote on where to go.

Anyways, your choices are between Paradiso the pirate den, Parada the unexplored jungle-rock, or Perodo the peaceful colony that is probably dead. There is a possibility everyone is sleeping I suppose, but unlikely. Now, I can not tell you anything about Parada or Perodo, you know as much as I do, but I have been to Paradiso, so I might be able to answer some questions. However, I would really prefer not to.

You may give a short speech before your vote explaining your position, but all that is needed is a simple naming of the island."

It didn't take long after his own arrival for the rest of the crew to show up. Why was he the first to appear? Well, discipline, probably. The other side of it was that he was among the few members of the crew who remained unscathed in last night's tussle with some beasts of the sky. Amazing as they probably were, he had little interest in trying to fight a flying snake thing. Besides, while he avoided any direct confrontation, he had his hands rather full dashing about here and there and trying to make sure the damn critters didn't set anything crucial on fire, nor tried to chew through the sail for whatever reason.

It was a good thing he could leave the machine room to Robyn for the most part. He wasn't on the best terms with the girl - not that he was on good terms with anyone, really, it was just that he had to deal with her a lot more than anyone else - but he was somewhat worried if she came topside, she would just get snatched away to a horrible fate. After all, the sky serpents gave the crew significant trouble, and he was among the least combat-capable people around. Which was saying a lot, really, because while he was just average by build, he was in fantastic shape. When he was invited by the captain, he expected to have to pull his weight fighting things as well, but that was entirely unnecessary in the end.

And he was happy for it, really. He didn't learn to fight because he wanted to, and while he had grown to enjoy physical activity of most kinds over the long years wandering the world and avoiding police and second-grade bounty hunters, he would rather not be forced to fight. Besides, it didn't seem like he could compete with the more combat-oriented members of the crew. The quartermaster, one Elric Mahal, was a mountain of a man. Though no longer young, he was big enough that he had to duck into most doors, and some of them were problematic for him to fit through because of his muscular girth as well. The next most imposing man was certainly Varsh Terask, a full head taller than Kilian and then some and with arms almost as thick as his legs. No less imposing was a certain Lady Mercy, which was the only name he knew her by, the formal enforcer slash captain's bodyguard. While not that much bigger than himself, the way she carried herself betrayed countless years of experience wielding the sword she had on her at most times.

The others, including the captain himself, he would dare to take in a fight, but not those three. While some looked significantly more threatening than himself, they didn't seem too skilled in combat or relied on weapons that had little utility in close quarters. Not that he was usually eager for violence, nor measured a person's worth by it. Rather, had this ship had a crew comprised of more ordinary folk, they might not have made it through last night, certainly not all of them.

"Cap'n." He acknowledged the man with a short word and a salute. Well, never having learned much of the military, he wasn't even sure if he was doing the gesture correctly, but it mattered little on this ship. Caintry proceeded to make a far more theatrical greeting than entirely necessary, eliciting a smirk on Kilian's own face a couple of times. The eyes, yeah right. More like how much of a weirdo they were. The crew were a collection of misfits, some more obvious and some less, but few were entirely normal. The captain himself was probably more than a little insane, a slightly twisted smirk basically never leaving his face. The people who seemed more normal in terms of character were probably Carina, their something of a pushover navigator, and Uriel, the adviser who certainly had some great assets. Jia was just very foreign, Robyn was a little girl who tried too hard to look tough, and himself, well, he was probably broken in more ways than he knew. What a merry bunch they all were.

"I'd rather go to Perodo." He voiced his opinion second, rather upset that Paradiso was the first one called out. It wasn't a good place, certainly not for someone like him. It probably housed more than a few of his old partners in crime he would rather never see again, as well as countless people he crossed, not to mention more bounty hunters that wouldn't mind going after him. His reward - even though offered separately by four governments - wasn't so great that people would chase him specifically, but who would pass on a bounty that came right to them? And while he could appreciate nature, a jungle island was a lot more nature than he would like, likely dangerous nature at that. Besides, Mercy did have a point. They couldn't count on an uninhabited island to provide supplies.

"I think we all need a small break, so a peaceful place sounds perfect." Kilian continued, deciding to give his argument more weight. "And if it is dead, there's going to be a lot of valuables we can just take. Say what you will about looting, it's practical." He shrugged. Depending on how long the colony had been silent and potentially dead, there might not be any fresh food around, but there would likely be preserves. Everybody made those and they could last years until opened. "Sure, there's danger, but it's not like Paradiso is safe, either."

Arc I--Day 1

When Carina finally arrived at the quarterdeck, she was surprised to see everyone had assembled...except the Captain. Although...considering her clothes were still covered in ash, she probably wasn't doing very well in terms of presenting herself, either. At least Seeleheiler's potion got rid of the dizziness and at least some of the aches, so she could focus somewhat on whatever the captain had called them for.

For whatever reason, the first mate, Terask, wasn't wearing a shirt at all, as if he was proud of all the angry red burns and scratches covering his body. Either that, or it had gotten burned off. Of course, Terask was nothing if not resilient, so he was no doubt taking it well. On the other hand, the advisor, Rozinan, seemed like she hadn't suffered much from all the chaos last night. Perhaps she just hadn't gotten caught up in any fighting at all.

Leaning against a railing and folding her arms, Carina nodded in acknowledgement to both of them, but said nothing. (She didn't acknowledge the sergeant at all, he could get fed to the serpents for all she cared. He obviously felt the same way about her.)

Within a few minutes, Captain Osborne finally came out of his cabin with a smile, greeting some of the assembled crew members in his usual witty manner. And when he climbed up to the quarterdeck alongside them, he delved into a speech about how he chose everyone for his crew because...they were "interesting" or whatever. It took much of Carina's willpower not to roll her eyes throughout the whole thing, it felt like stalling in every sense of the word.

...although part of her just wanted him to stop talking so she didn't have to think about how she might not really good enough as navigator for this voyage...

At last, the Captain let them know about their options for where to restock. Parada was completely out of the question as far as Carina was concerned, you just couldn't trust a place no one knew anything about that couldn't simply be noted from outside observation. So...it was either the colony that had mysteriously gone quiet, or a place that was crawling with pirates and thieves. Hm...

"I also believe Perodo is our best option, Captain," Carina offered. "As Lutz has noted, even if it really has died out, there must be something we can make use of there. And dead or not, it seems more welcoming than Paradiso. Going into a thief den, especially after last night, would just be begging for trouble."

Damascus coolly watched the crew as they fidgeted around waiting for the, remarkably late captain from his position leaning against a stack of crates behind the assembled members. The orb under the bandanna twitched as he decided to open its eye briefly to get a, new perspective on the crew. Barely visible under the bandanna a faint purple glow began to emanate as the orb fired to daemonic life. Filtering into his reduced field of vision came faint purple aetheric traces lacing the sky, following the ebb and flow of magic that was helping to keep the tub afloat, as well as the traces of the magically inclined of the crew.

Scattered throughout the assembled members of the crew were pinpricks and traces of magical energy. Some was retained in weapons, some from hands, eyes, whatever the foci of their craft he saw the traces of it. He noticed that in many of them the traces were much fainter, weaker than they were when he had first observed them as such. He could attribute this to the recent battle, and the general tiredness of the crew. One of the crew caught his attention by virtue of simple the amount of concentrated energy in one area. The young Cabin Girl, what was her name, Bobby? No matter, but the arm under the long glove was simply buzzing with purple aetheric traces. It had him curious as to why the arm was so imbued, but it wasn't his place to ask.

His thoughts, and indeed concentration, were interrupted by the, by court standards, quite grand entrance. The captain strode powerfully through his hirelings, nodding and interacting with those he seemed to know for either longer, or better than the rest. He was a good man, seemed personable, seemed to care for his crew. He'd known another captain of the same such vein. His left hand concealed under the cloak curled reflexively around the pommel of Lizbet, caressing its smooth cold metal with the care and grace one might treat a lover. Or a memory.

His thoughts were once more interrupted by the captain, this time by his words. Damascus wasn't going to lie, he'd expected this sort of filibuster from the captain before he'd opened his mouth. And Filibuster was all it was, something he was quite used to. His time in high court had been populated with such measures and he was proud to say he was one of the best at it. He didn't particularly enjoy it, he would rather say just what he needed to, but he was exceptionally talented at the intricacies of court and public and private conversation. While the Captain was certainly good at it, Damascus couldn't help but call it what it was, filibuster to appease a tired crew and build up to what the actual point was.

Your eyes. Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story.

Damascus couldn't help but scoff audibly at the man. Only having one eye, Damascus sincerely doubted that the captain had seen anything in his eye. None on board had seen beneath the bandanna, none on board had witnessed his shame, none of them could possibly have seen his story. He did not doubt that the captain had seen something in him, but he preferred to think what he saw was what Damascus had wanted him to see, a quick wit and a quicker blade.

This man must have been the son of a senator, Damascus thought as he listened to Caintry rattle on. He was almost proud of the man, almost wanted to see how he'd hold up in a noble court. But eventually the man got to the point and laid their options out of the proverbial table. Perodo, Paradiso, or Parada, a triple threat of P's. Privacy, piracy, or primeval it was a tough choice. He could see the merits of any of the places laid out before them. Though he had no intention of visiting another possibly abandoned settlement. Too much risk for repeated history.

"The way I see it is as such ladies and gentlemen," Damascus began pushing his shoulder off of the crates. Standing straight he ran a hand through his hair, setting it back away from his eye. "Each of these places holds... unique opportunities, as well as dangers. On the one hand we have Paradiso, a notorious hive of sin and villainy. Just the sort of place that any of us could lose ourselves in and rest reasonably undisturbed for a time. While there restock, rearm, refuel, and relapse into our.. finer habits," he said with a devilish grin. He began to pace behind the crew, much like a lawyer would making his closing arguments, every movement calculated for maximum effect, his cape billowing and swirling about his feet in a theatrical way. The captain wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic.

"On the back edge of that sword, it is a hive of sin and villainy. There are plenty of opportunities to find oneself in how shall we say, in a pit of trouble. Bounty hunters, assassins, high port taxes, truly dreadful stuff that." He paused to gauge reaction. "Now on the other hand we have Perodo, the silent settlement. If there are people still there wonderful, locals to trade with that have had no recent communication with the outside so we're likely to not be... ratted out. And if they're dead, unfortunate as that is, as Mr. Lutz so bluntly mentioned, looting is an option," he noted with a head nod and gesture to the man in question. "Again, on the other side of the coin, if they're alive and have been silent, there must be a reason. Perhaps a reason more sinister than we could imagine," he paused for a fraction of a second, memories tied to the statement flashing through his mind. Recovering almost immediately he continued. "Sickness, cultish behavior, pirate slaughter, daemons, it could be any number of things. We could be walking into as much of a trap there as we could be in Paradiso."

He paused and turned to face the crew. "Now Parada, not much to be said there, its a jungle plain and simple. And in the jungle, well we all know the dangers and rewards of such places do we not," he stated with a grin and sweeping gesture. "So here we stand, a choice of Privacy, Piracy, and Primeval, each could be as rewarding and treacherous as the last. I for one prefer the comforts of civilization, so my hand is cast for Paradiso. At the very least there we can be assured a warm bed, cold drink, and if so inclined welcome company."

Having said his piece he took a single step back to his stack of crates and resumed leaning against it. The habits of a noble and the court duties that go with it die hard. He was simply glad to see that the recent gauntlet of tribulation hadn't dulled his tongue any. Whatever the crew decided on, he would abide by, but he had a yearning to see the lights of civilization once more from the comfort of a glass of brandy, a comfortable bed, and a warm companion.

Practically the entire crew had gathered at the behest of their captain, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Big surprise there. Nadia let out another frustrated sigh, drumming against the wall with the fingers of one hand, this did little for her ill temper brought on by lack of sleep. The gunner perked up a little when she noticed the ship's cook approaching, however, and acknowledged her presence with a nod and a slight smile. She had gotten along fairly well with Jia since their new recruit's induction on the Wayfarer.

"Yeah. Rough day, too. Cleaning burn marks and sky-serpent guts isn't my idea of fun," replied Nadia wryly. Just then, the sound of the door to the captain's cabin opening caught her attention. Here he was at last. It felt like the crew had been waiting far longer than necessary for him to show his face. She quickly stopped leaning against the wall to make herself appear at least mildly presentable, then turned her gaze to the deck in embarrassment when Captain Caintry brought up the speaker she had previously wrecked. "No, Cap'n," she mumbled. The last thing she wanted was to have that brought up again, in front of the whole crew.

When the captain began his speech, Nadia mostly tuned out at first, expecting the same old sort of introductory spiel from her military days. But then came the odd part, the bit that got her attention, or at least her curiosity. Captain Caintry had picked the crew for their... stories? Did he intend to write about them in his memoires or something? Looking to the collection of misfits she would be calling her crewmates, the gunner almost missed out on what their leader had to say next. The reason why he had called them all here: to vote on their next destination. A pirate den, a wild jungle, or a ghost town? Decisions, decisions. Nadia listened carefully as some of the crew members cast their votes before deciding to make her voice heard.

"I don't see us getting restocked on a wildland, so it's a toss-up between Perodo and Paradiso, from the look of it," she said. "And if we dock at Perodo, we may end up running into what made the place a ghost town in the first place. At least we know where we are with cutthroats. Just keep our big 'uns in plain sight and we'll only have the idiots trying to mug us. My vote's for Paradiso."

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Eire had remained silent for a good portion of the voting, only piping up after Varsh to add, "I've got 10 blades to cut through illness right here!" She raised both hands and wiggled her fingers in a magical manner for effect. Usually, she'd have added an eyeroll at how pretentiously Varsh was speaking, but that just seemed to be how he was. He always seemed to be ready to fight whomever dared to contradict him, so of course Eire had to.

Truth be told, Eire couldn't care less where their adventures took them. As long as it was somewhere new, she'd be happy. However, she was still feeling a bit under utilized and was eager to remind people that she did actually have the ability to take away their aches and pains they all seem to grumble about constantly. Sure, she could just do it, but she preferred consent. Magically healing someone is a very intimate process, and it made Eire feel much less skeevy when the other party agreed to it.

In any case, the healer was eager to get underway to wherever as long as it had food and a nice place to take a nap.

He didn’t have to wait long for their captain’s arrival, with his usual flamboyant showmanship shining through as he threw out passing comments to certain members of the crew before bursting into charismatic spiel. Elric half sighed at first, caring little for the speech but understanding that embolden them would certainly result in a better chance of success regardless of their destination as well as garnering some modicum of loyalty. Despite himself he could feel a faint smile curling his lips as the captains speech continued, finding himself reminded of why he’d signed up with Caintry in the first place since as corny as it sounded he genuinely believed what he was telling them; and he was doing it without the several drinks they’d shared on their first meeting as well.

Honest to a fault would be perhaps the best way to describe how he viewed the captain as he finished and the others stepped forward to cast the bones so to speak. Some clearly took this vote seriously while others almost made fun of it but they all appeared to want to be heard regardless of how much note was taken.

When Jia finished he couldn’t help but smile softly in agreement, especially since she’d summed up much of his own reasoning. He stared over the heads of the crew, looking towards Caintry before he stepped forward to say his piece. His voice was soft, with a faint rasp but thick with accent, in slight contrast to his build.

”I divenay care for the sound of Paradiso, crowded with them buggers that’d soon slit our throat and pick wor pocket. Our provisions are certainly lower than I’d like, as wor Lady says.“ He directs this comment towards Mercy before continuing.

”Especially to have us explore a place what’s went silent, so nay to Perodo an all. But we’ll no starve just yet nor will we be feasting either, and I’ll no be wantin’ to push that. Not unless they’ve all abandoned yhem leaving them there valuables in a heap for us to find.”

He smiles mirthlessly while giving his shoulders a faint shrug and nodding towards Jia.

”Wor cook’s got the way of it, canny lass that she is. I vote for Parada, beasts and food a plenty I reckon with water at better prices than we’ll find in that thieves den or ghost town. And I’m sure we could do with a bit’a room to breathe for a while.“

While he knew they’d be more likely to restock the Wayfarer in more civilised locations Elric knew full well the ease with which he could gather supplies in the wilds given half a chance, and the chance of the past haunting them there was slim compared to a town of cut-throats.

“Good morning.” Lady Mercy greeted, her tone as cool as usual. Robyn couldn't help a small grin but it faded when she realized that Lady Mercy didn't smile. She wasn't so easily amused. “I expect we’ll be finding out soon.” She went on answering her question and then went on to -seemingly- appraise the others that arrived. Robyn straightened her back, taking on the same posture and stern expression as Lady Mercy.

Shortly after, The Captain made his appearance, greeting each one of them accordingly. To her, he hooked a finger, closed an eye, and gave a wild "Argh" out of nowhere, startling Robyn a bit. She blinked and fought the urge to laugh. What the hell was that all about?

Soon the briefing began.
"A nice morn, I hope all slept well. You all look, well… terrible.” He said and Robyn scrunched up her nose.

Rude, she thought as he went on.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer, and I assure you none of you know what to expect. A long time ago, I first came into contact with this beauty of a vessel in a rather special way. The Wayfarer was neither the first airship I found myself working for or the best equipped, but she has always been my favorite and the only one I actively tried to work for. Why? Story. She was the most interesting, simply. My old Captain brought me on as the ship’s scout, thief, cheater, or whatever you wanted to call me, and why did my glorious, honorable captain pick me? I was the best, and I was the most qualified in that degree of expertise. Obviously, I did not stay in that position, I am now standing above you on the quarterdeck. So, that leaves the question: why did I bring you on? Surely, in line with the practices of my good Captain, I would carefully choose only the best for the job, the role, when selecting who is privileged enough to be a member of my crew. Well, no, not even close. Some of you, I wonder, probably never did the job you agreed to do before coming aboard. Most of you would not ever in your right mind agree to come aboard this airship, as well as no Captain in their right mind would ever hire you. Some of you had no choice but to come along, helping more than one of you escape your respective authorities, and some of you would have joined any airship. So, again, why did I choose you?

Your eyes.

Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story. I could not know whether you would serve faithfully and turn out actually suited for the job, such as when I took Varsh on as muscle, eventually being promoted, or stab me in the back and attempt to burn my ship down, literally in some cases in the past, but neither would I care. In short, you are not the most suited, but the most interesting for your respective jobs. You are, each and every one of you, fantastic stories.” He said and Robyn was sent back to the day she met Master Jacken. He told her the same thing...there was something in her eyes. To his credit, he'd sifted through her mind telepathically but it started with her eyes. That's what he explained to her.

To hear that again, from someone who'd never met Master Jacken and never will, made her want to see what they saw. The Captain saw a story.
She reached up, gripping her shoulder on her 'good' arm. Oh, she had quite the story, Master Jacken saw a kindred spirit. She made a note to pay attention to people's eyes. Apparently, they told quite a lot.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer,” he continued with a grin. “and although we are not heading into any of three islands with any certainty about anything, you can depend on the fact that we will find trouble, mischief, and something to preoccupy ourselves anywhere. That, my dear…” He paused causing Robyn to narrow her eyes some. “That, my dear crew, leaves us with our choices and your voting. You have had it rough enough lately, so I will let you decide where to dock. Well, I will let you vote on where to dock, and as long as your choice doesn’t sound absolutely dreadful that is where we will go… Well… Forget what I said, just vote on where to go.

Anyways, your choices are between Paradiso the pirate den, Parada the unexplored jungle-rock, or Perodo the peaceful colony that is probably dead. There is a possibility everyone is sleeping I suppose, but unlikely. Now, I cannot tell you anything about Parada or Perodo, you know as much as I do, but I have been to Paradiso, so I might be able to answer some questions. However, I would really prefer not to.

You may give a short speech before your vote explaining your position, but all that is needed is a simple naming of the island." He said and Robyn already had her vote. One they needed supplies, she -as in her and Killin- needed more parts of the ship as well as a few new tools but Robyn also really wanted to see this pirate sky dock. She wanted to go to Paradiso.
Robyn rose her hand but then the others spoke before her and she dropped her hand. Did she even get a vote?

"Paradiso," Lady Mercy said, shocking Robyn into whipping her head in her direction. "We need provisions, do we not?" the white-haired woman went on to say and Robyn was shocked. She thought the same thing she did.
Inwardly, Robyn was cheering, having found something, however small, in common with the otherwise enigmatic woman. Robyn dropped her head to hid her grin, hoping that Lady Mercy did not see her gawking and smiling like an idiot.

The others went on to explain where they wanted to go and finally Robyn rose her hand again.

"Ah, Well, I don't know if I count as crew or if my vote even counts but I want to go to" She paused, her eyes flicking over to Lady Mercy before she continued. "We should to Paradiso, we need supplies in the Engine Room, new parts and such, I figure that's the best place to find something good." She said, not really that great at explaining herself as it was, so it just made it worse that she wasn't exactly being entirely honest. She did want to go to get new supplies but most because she was curious.

After descending to deck level and seeing some of the crew on deck, Matrist had taken up his post by the mast where he had remained unseen for the most part while he watched the rest of the crew come on deck. As they gathered and waited for the captain, Matrist could not help but reflect on the oddity of voting on a destination, in what should have been a rigid command structure. Never in his time standing the wall had this ever happened, surely, he mused, this could lead to dissent and possible mutiny down the road. However, if the captain wanted to pursue decision making structures that meant it was more likely for Matrist to be able to fulfill his own mission so much the better.

Eventually the captain did come out and took a quick turn around the crew, to Matrists surprise he was noticed and nodded at. A strange feeling ran through him at the time, as it seemed as though the captain understood how he felt as if he had jumped forward in time. The island of Dimmar was a woefully technologically bereft place, however because of that magic ran in the veins of the folk there more strongly than many other places, deep, and old, strange, and wild. However, Matrist did not wish to give away any of his background or ties to that place yet. Though it was rare to find people who had traveled to Dimmar, and rarer still to find those who knew anything of the Mistwalkers, their reputation as assassins, and more specifically mage-hunters, tended to make people.... uneasy. So instead he gave the bow of the outer Torrad islands; right hand across his chest over his heart, the palm outwards, a slight inclination of the head, and but the barest bend at the waist. It was more the impression of what might have been a bow, but they were a proud people.

The Captains speech was illuminating, full of passion and conviction, though hiding the glimpses of unknown stories as well. Charismatic and yet somehow unknowable, he spoke of recruiting the crew for the stories glimpsed in their eyes. Matrist almost chuckled, there would certainly be few people with eyes as unusual as his; over-large and glowing a blue in the faintest way you might not even notice. He offered them choice, decide he said, where shall we go, and one by one the crew spoke up. Some cast their votes simply, and some would be orators persuaded and cajoled, some used bravado, and some used simpler appeals. Ultimately, there could be only one choice when the votes were all numbered. Seeing this, and knowing that the fulfillment of his true mission could occur at any of their ports of call, Matrist elected a different route.

Either entirely unnoticed by the majority of the crew or forgotten of in the self interest of voting, Matrist stepped forward and into the silence spoke the first words many of the crew had heard from him.

"Where my Captain goes, I follow" Simply that, no more needed to be said and he was not a man to waste words or blow hot air when his task could be simply accomplished. With a nod to Caintry at his spot, he resumed his lean against the mainmast.

The Captain of the Wayfarer simply nodded, confirming his recognition of the votes, and with that he made his exit, a polite farewell as he went back into his cabin. With that, everyone was to go back about their business, everyone fulfilling their roles, and now the calmness of the morning was replaced with the melody of regularity and plentiful toil, same old same old.

---

Another morning, several after the one aforementioned, was beginning to form as the sun found its way over the western horizon, the thick clouds of the sky-bed seeming less fantastic now as they drew near a clearly visible, vibrantly green island in the distance, and making its way skimming the less impressive clouds was the Wayfarer, expedient with a purpose. As the airship drew near, one could make out the island in detail, sandy shores giving way to thick jungle with a single rocky peak protruding in the middle, and in a rocky cove laid a visible settlement, a dark red-brown from being made of the wood of tropical trees. The settlement was built into the high rocky walls of the cove, wooden buildings being built into the sides with wooden walkways and bridges connecting the two-hundred and seventy degree rock face by several levels. The island seemed to fit the name Paradiso very well, enticing and beautiful like a femme fatale, but sometimes the mesmerizing lights and jovial music of the pirate den, the freedom it radiated, was accompanied by the screams of a rape victim or the crack of the odd flintlock shot. It, in fact, was a grand summary, a poetic representation, of all piracy and what pirating had to offer; wonderful glory and grit reality.

The Captain of the Wayfarer stood at the helm. The vessel drew nearer, now even the smell of festive food made its way to the crew if any cared to whiff, but suddenly the ship changed direction, driven by the captain. Although hugging the shoreline just off to the side of the infamous pirate cove, the ship was making its way, slowly, around the island, and it was clear to anyone he had no intention of going to the den anytime soon...

The days following the vote on their destination had been somewhat stifled as those with doubts about their chosen destination appeared a little more withdrawn, but overall the feeling the crew appeared to be good spirits. Well other than the slight malcontent among the crew caused by a faint singing which had seemed to echo above deck during the twilight hours recently. The source wasn’t quite apparent with the, presumed female voice filling the night’s air for a little while at varying times with old sounding songs they couldn’t quite place or fully comprehend the words.

Elric knew full well that despite his warnings that his granddaughter had continued her midnight strolls through the decks of the ship and had now also taken to filling her time in with song; and as much as the tunes often made him smile he knew it was unlikely to garner them any friends should she be discovered. As he made his way through below he thought back to the hold where he’d left her earlier and the argument over him going ashore with the crew and leaving her trapped. It had ended with him taking his supplies for trade and sealing the door behind him for all the good it clearly did to halt her exploration.

He turned sharply down towards the galley and mess, ducking his head to pass through several of the arched doorways of below. As he reached his destination he wondered if he’d have been better off checking elsewhere but nonetheless he thought this might be the best place to take it. He put down his large satchel of goods onto one of the benches in the mess and carefully withdrew a couple of jars, filled with a rich honey. He glanced around the room, trying to see if there was anyone else down here but not managing to do so.

”Jia, I thought you might have use for these. So thought I’d drop em off a’fore I head into town.” he called out waiting for a reply before lifting the honey to his eye and inspecting them to make sure they were two of the best he’d brought and gently placed them onto one of the benches their cook used to prepare meals in the galley.

He glanced around once more to see if their cook had appeared before shrugging and heading out and above deck, pulling his furs and leather overcoat a little tighter around him. As he strode across the deck he wasn't able to see the others and wondered if they'd already went on ahead or were still below. Regardless of their location he set off down the boarding plank to the ground unsheathing the axe from his back, which was more of a polearm especially given how he started to use it as a walking stick; planting the butt of the weapon against the ground in time with his footsteps. A moment or two later he heart the faint pad of something soft on wood before a light thud behind him signalled that Kaela had joined him as he ventured inland.

The Quartermaster had little worries about the supplies aboard but they’d always need more so he figured he might as well check the area for game as well before trying to see if civilisation has anything to offer. He spent much of the walk on the lookout for any tracks as well as setting up a few traps to check on his return trip but as time passed the ship grew smaller behind him and distance to the town grew smaller. However the thing which caught his eyes as he approached was not the town nor its inhabitants but rather the cluster of figures who seemed both equally familiar and somewhat distressed.

”What’s up with the wee lass?”

Bobbie kept her eyes closed as he was spun around, facing Giles she figured. She heard him huffing and puffing on the way forward. "You'll pay for that, cunt" He hissed and she just kept her eyes closed. He was going to take her arm, or at least try and went it didn't work, he was going to kill her. Damn it. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready to die yet.
She squeezed her eyes as tight as she could against the pain on her arm, trying to hold back tears. Suddenly, there was a crash, and she was released, it caused Robyn to open her eyes. Once her vision cleared, she stood stunned to find that, one, the big man that had been shooting at her was the one to have found her. How that happened wasn't important, because two, he was down, and Killian was holding pieces of a broken stool.

He found her. Somehow, he found her in this mess of an island. He found her.
"What a big man you are, picking on little girls" He said and she would have cracked a smile if her arm wasn't in so much pain. Why couldn't he have shot the good arm? She held the wound closed, blood seeping through her gloved metallic fingers.


"What's it to..."

"You look the type to be someone else's "little girl" every other night, so I guess you wanted to take it out on somebody?"  Killian said and Robyn smirked but jumped when she heard the man that held her groan. Killian proceeded to stomp the man back into unconsciousness and continued with Giles. Her vision began to blur, and blackness dotted her vision. She wasn't sure what happened next but Giles was gone and Killian was facing her. She stood there looking at him, blinking, sniffing, huffing and shivering. It got mighty cold all of a sudden?

Killian removed his belt and for some reason, Robyn thought he was going to beat her for her folly. Hell, she deserved it, and at this point, she'd take the beating if it meant she didn’t have to deal with this place alone.

Instead of beating her, he kneeled and wrapped the belt around her arm. "I'm sorry." She managed quietly, and then suddenly, he scooped her up, and beat a hasty retreat. Robyn rested her head on his chest, sobbing quietly. She swore to herself she'd been less of a brat to him. He didn't have to save her, he could have left her to her fate and been rid of her for good.

"He was gonna take my arm." She whimpered to him. Killian was the only one to know about her arm so she knew she didn't have to go into detail. She was, however, going to explain how he knew about it in the first place but she was getting very sleepy all of a sudden, she could barely keep her eyes open and it was cold. This was a tropical place, why was it so cold.

"It's cold?" She murmured just before she heard a few familiar voices but her eyes long since closed and she didn't have the strentgh to open them.

"...h-how did this happen? Is she going to be okay?"
”What’s up with the wee lass?”

"why is it so cold?" She muttered before darkness took her.

"I bet you are, dumbass." He grumbled as she apologized. It was probably really mean of him to insult the girl, especially since she was seriously wounded, but she sort of deserved it. Robyn didn't technically need to apologize as she had done nothing to hurt or offend him. Rather, the only person she owed an apology was herself for getting into some mess within an hour of walking around the damn island. He warned her against the dangers of a real pirate den, nothing like their ship of misfits and lost souls, but he didn't want to order her around or keep her on a leash. But perhaps he should have, for her own good.

"Of course, now everybody and their grandma shows up. Not when they would have been useful." Kilian cursed in his mind, but said nothing. Well, perhaps they weren't completely useless at this point. Not Carina, their navigator who was somehow even smaller and skinnier than the orphan girl who had to work in a factory to not starve, and for whatever reason pulling along a large cask of water that probably weighed almost as much as herself. Why did she have that anyway? He sort of remembered her volunteering to get water for the trip ahead - he didn't usually pay much attention to what others did, as long as it didn't concern him - but surely she wouldn't have gone on her own when she was very obviously unfit for manual labor? Except, evidently, she did. Was she trying to prove something or just an idiot?

"Don't know." He gave a very short reply to her question, not wishing to lose his breathing rhythm. Robyn wasn't all that heavy, but he wasn't some musclehead and he needed to keep the pace. Why ask him anyway? He wasn't a doctor. He never pretended to be, either: basic first aid was all he knew. Luckily, the other person who showed up was potentially more useful, their resident bear-man. He was no longer young, but if he kept that shape at this age, that might not slow him down.
"She got hurt, perhaps badly." He answered straight to the point. "Think you could run her back to the doc?" He asked, feeling quite hopeful. He knew he'd be dead tired carrying the girl back if he just walked quickly, but to Elric, her weight might not mean anything. Even if he couldn't run as fast as Kilian - which was a pretty big 'if' actually - he looked like he'd be able to keep a better pace the whole way.

"She got hurt, perhaps badly." Kilian answered simply. "Think you could run her back to the doc?"

”I’ll see what’s I can dee, just got ta hope wor medic’s still aboard and not wen a wand’rin, eh?” He chuckled slightly, though there didn’t appear much mirth in his face as he sheathed the axe across his back and shifted his pack into a better position.

”hand’er here lad.” he muttered as he reached down to pick up the trembling bundle of rags and blood that passed for their cabin girl. ”Shaken’ like a leaf she is, you get em what did this? Or we having a hunt come dark?”

He pulled her close and nestled her against the crook of his right shoulder, holding her easily with one hand while he gestured towards their navigator. She seemed in good health herself however there was a strained look on her face accompanied by an ever increasing sheen of sweat on her brow. He moved over to where Kaela stood, her eyes scanning the sparse woodland for any interlopers on their gathering and rested his free hand against her side, running his fingers through her pelt as he growled something the other two missed.

”Mighty impressive, tricks of the mind an all but take it easy.” He smiled warmly as he reached out and hefted the barrel from where it hovered and tucked it under his left arm. ”Kaela’ll take you both back I reckon, keep us in good time. If you're coming.“ He nodded towards the immense dire wolf, who stretched and looked impassively back at her would-be riders.

With that the old clansman started to make his way back towards the cave where they’d docked earlier that morning easily keeping pace with his wolf once she caught up, though by the time they arrived he was beginning to flag while she was peeling ahead almost tauntingly slow as if to show off.

As they return the sun already hung high above suggesting that noon was fast approaching and with it their expecting meeting with the captain.

Arc I, Paradiso

Not surprised at having been brushed off for the most part, Carina stood by as Lutz entrusted Jayne to the care of Mahal, the quartermaster, who just happened to run into them as they started to leave the city. And luckily, he had his pet wolf as well, so he probably could make it back very quickly. Although, this presumed Seeleheiler was still on the ship, and Carina knew the healer walked into town with the rest of them...

However, she didn't expect Mahal, who was still carrying Jayne in one arm, to stride over to her and try to take the cask of water from her shoulder. Carina shook her head quickly and insisted, "N-no, it's fine, I can mana--"

”Mighty impressive, tricks of the mind an all but take it easy.” With those simple words, Mahal flashed her a warm smile, but all Carina could do was stare at him with shock. How...what...? Did he know about her magic? As far as she could remember, she hadn't used it in the presence of the crew, or really anyone in general, until the incident with the sky serpents. How did Mahal know she was using magic?...okay, maybe her less than impressive physique gave it away, but that was hardly the point.

Even so, Carina's mind reeled so much from Mahal's remark that the barrel remained suspended in the air for a split second, refusing to budge, before letting its new courier accept it. She wondered if she should insist on taking it herself so he wouldn't have to put up with the strain of carrying the incapacitated cabin girl and a casket of water at the same time, but...she did feel kind of lightheaded right now...and for his part, Mahal seemed to not mind the extra load. In fact, he even told her to ride back to the ship on his wolf...wait, was that really okay? Shouldn't she hurry back to the meeting place?

Okay...maybe just a few seconds to sit down and recompose herself would be okay. Relenting, Carina carefully seated herself on the back of Kaela, hoping her mount wasn't holding a grudge for the time Carina first ran into her, panicked because there was a wolf that huge on the ship without her knowing, and tried to shoot her on the spot. Ultimately, Mahal let it slide--otherwise, why would he take the water for her?--but that didn't necessarily mean Kaela did.

In any case, Carina spent the ride in silence, letting her gaze wander to the scenery around them, but not sparing a glance at the other crew members. The pain was ebbing as they neared the cave where the Wayfarer was docked, but not quickly enough for her liking.