The Return of Arcanum (IC)

[Yggdrasil_Hugger]

OOC - No longer accepting

Things felt different. The ground, the people, even the air felt different than it had a week ago. It couldn't be described, but King Rothwell couldn't help but feel as though everything was slightly shifted. Like someone had come in the night and moved everything one inch to the left.

He knew why everything felt different, but that didn't change how he felt. It was magic of course. Until just seven days ago it had been a thing of myth. Something that had existed once upon a time but not anymore. But now it did exist. It was real. It might not have been tangible in the physical sense, but he could see how things had changed. Just yesterday he had seen a child run through the street chasing sparkles that seemed to spring from the air by themselves.

Never in his years did he think he would see magic. He was young by any other race's standards, but even still, he was old for a human. He was nearing his 90th birthday. Shaking himself from his thought, the king drummed his fingers on the armrests of his golden throne. He stroked his grey beard as he waited.

Today they would arrive. Nearly three ago, he had sent out messengers across the lands seeking adventurers. He needed them, the world needed them. They would be burdened with the heaviest responsibility of any group in living memory. They would be the ones to return magic to the world.

Gazing out the window across his city, he could see pillars of white steam climb into the sky confidently from the factories that powered the city. Soaring around them, airships floated above the city. He knew that the world might not have needed magic any longer, but he couldn't stand the idea of the world having just a fraction of its past arcane glory. They had already released the smallest bit of magic. It would be unsatisfying to keep it at that.

So he needed the group to find the remaining artifacts. He knew there was more. The Ancients couldn't have sealed away all the magic and only left one artifact. There must be more out there. Which is why he needed the group. These brave adventurers would find and open the artifacts. And he could die knowing he had overseen the return of arcanum.


Alek rubbed the letter with his thumb. He hadn't expected a letter from the king of Gandomere of all people. But upon reading the letter, he saw why. The king needed adventurers to find magical artifacts of the Ancients. It seemed his renown as a mage had already reached the king's ears. He supposed a mage would be a well-known figure nowadays. He had already mastered arcana in the seven days that it had returned.

He lamented his comparatively weak abilities, but he knew that anyone who could create bursts of flame without the needs of a blastgun was already a powerful person. In any case, he had been summoned. It had been a harrowing journey across the continent in a rented airship, but he had made it to Gandomere in one piece. He was never a fan of airships. Dwarves belonged with two feet on the ground and stone over their heads.

He had made it two days before the date listed, and spent them in Luminaa's great libraries. Even his own library in Emblatonn was put to shame. He spent the time researching the Ancients' own cities. Little more than rubble now, the remains of the Ancients' civilization was a good place to start anyways.

On the day the letter had said, Alek made his way to the palace of the king. He showed the guards his letter and was given admission. He walked up the cobblestone path that winded its way through the royal gardens, lush green fields dotted with flowers. He entered the palace after showing more guards his letter and nearly gasped at the beauty within the throne room.

The room was lit entirely by the massive stained-glass windows that lined every wall. Pneumatic tubes lined the ceiling, every so often emitting a woosh noise as message cylinders shot through them. The throne was flanked on either side by mechanical suits of armor holding halberds. The throne itself was on a raised dais that could be sunken into the floor and covered by three feet of brass at any given moment.

On the throne, an elderly human man gazed intently at Alek with a grin. His skin was yellow, like ancient parchment. His hair was long and grey, and on his head sat a brass crown. He had a beard, a rectangular one that extended far below his chin. He wore purple robes and had many bejeweled gold rings on his fingers. He sat nearly on the edge of his seat, clearly excited about Alek's arrival.

Alek suddenly regretted being as early as he was.

[Enigma]

Nicolas Figgins held up the test tube containing the latest plant extract - and sighed as the door behind him opened.

"What is it, Alfred?" he demanded. "Another invitation for dinner?"
"It's an invitation...." the gnome butler drawled.
"From which family? Not the Simmons, I hope? The girl spent most of the dinner talking to her pork chop."
"Her pork chop?"
"You would have thought they were life-long friends. I had to explain to her parents that what they needed was that alienist on 4th Avenue - and not as a husband," he said, placing the test tube back in its rack. Slipping off his gloves and goggle, he turned to face the butler.

"So if it's not the Simmons family, what family is it now?"
"The king," Alfred said.
"The king? I thought all his daughters were married off long ago?"
"I don't think it's about one of his daughters," the butler sighed, handing him the letter. "The king is asking for you, sir."
"Could it be? A knighthood?" Nick asked incredulously. "This is so unexpected...!"
"Not at present, sir," the gnome said dryly. "The king is asking you to undertake another mission for king and country."

"Ah," the human said, swallowing his disappointment. As he read the letter, his brow began furling stormily in concern. "This.. this cannot be! But it's all here!"

"Indeed, sir. Shall I prepare the luggage?"
"First, I need to see the king!" Nick cried out, but paused to look back at the gnome butler. "Best to cancel all my invitations for the foreseeable future. Do give them my apologies."
"But of course, sir. I've already laid out court clothes in the bedroom and will have a cab waiting for you when you are ready."

[Lu321]

"Where is that stupid wren- Ah! Found it!" Kristen murmured to herself, grabbing the wrench laying next to her and tightening a bolt on the pipe in front of her. She had spent the entire day making sure every connection in Ms. Landings house was tight, even though Kristen had assured her that there were no leaks anywhere. At least she was getting paid for it.

After receiving her payment and hearing the usual mutterings about how being a mechanic was unlady-like, she sighed. Picking up her tool box, she wandered the streets of Luminaa for a few minutes before returning to her home. She was tinkering with a new design she had come up with for an airship engine. It would be lighter, smaller, and more efficient, but there was still a lot of things she had to do to finish the prototype.

Entering her garage where she worked on most of her inventions, she noticed a letter had been pushed under the door. Curiously picking it up, she glanced at the envelope. "What could this be?" Ripping it open she quickly read over the letter. "What? This can't be real." She exclaimed, but after looking at the letter again she knew it was..

Two days later, on the day the letter had said to come to the palace, she arrived at the gates. She was permitted enterance by one of the guards and led to an elaborate throne room. She saw that she was still early, only one person had arrived. The king's eager gaze made her uneasy, but that was to be expected. She always felt more comfortable around machines than people.

[Moonlit_Fae]

"These are the wares I bring back to the clan." Night Mist bowed to her elder, Kind Stream. Names here were for concepts and ideas. Night Mist was named for her prowess and ability to be unseen to most being's eyes. She was the emodiement of stealth and shadow. That was how she got her name. One was not named until their true self was known. Kind Stream, the Tabaxi clan leader, was named for always being patient like water and carrying others under her leadership. She was like a swaying current, easily pulling others toward her.

"Please rise, Night Mist. Your contribution will go far." Kind Stream patted her head gently. Night Mist stood and smiled, revealing her sharp teeth. Night Mist only cared for her people. Tucked away in the jungle, they were safe from others. Night was one of the few who ventured out into the surrounding territories. She took odd jobs to steal things here and there to gather coin and wares for trade. She stole for the glory of her tribe. Many thought her greed was for her own, but it was really to protect her clan. The treasure she brought back were spent on defenses and expansion of her clan. Tabaxi were graceful and loved among their own, but the outside world had a different opinion of them. Night was used to others judging her by her appearance. She was a humaoid cat, covered with fur instead of skin and paws instead of hands. It unsettled humans and others made of coveted flesh. She was determined to prove them wrong and help to bring Tabaxi into a positive light within civilization.

Night was ready to turn and leave the clan leader and start her vacation, when Kind Stream cleared her throat. "Unfortunaetly you must return to Luminaa, you are being summoned." Kind Stream handed Night an envelope with the royal sigil sealed in wax upon it. Night hurriedly ripped it open and anxiosuly read the words it contained. Her feline mouth was agape as she read the words. The King summoning her? She was sure it could not be good. She had stolen much from the wealthy aristocrats, perhaps it was time she paid the price for all of her crimes.

"I will go if you will it.", she said her indigo eyes holding steady as she looked upon her clan leader.
Kind Stream's golden eyes looked saddened as they looked upon a loyal member of the clan. The warm jungle breeze fluffing up her pure white fur. "I am sorry, but you must go. The King knows of our clans location. If his only desire is to have you then take out his wraith upon our clan, you must go. Our people's safety is worth more than either of our lives." Night nodded in understanding, feeling a void start to grow inside of her of homesickness, even though she had not left yet. Her clan leader's will was also her will. She gave one last bow and that was it.

That same night, she was upon the first airship out of the jungle headed for the capitol of Luminaa. She was not sure what waited for her in the metallic city. Her Tabaxi heart raced within her chest, but her face held steady as the night sky.


Once she was in the capitol it was easy for her to locate the castle. Night would not wait around to see what her fate was, she was determined to face it head on. She would just do it her way, through shadows and secrets. The guards stoood in front of the entrance of the castle and were blocking her path. A challenge she would gladly take. This would be a test of her skills. Night was already hidden by the shadows, her dark grey fur highlighted with a slightly lighter grey, already gave her coverage. Her clothes were also of black and navy blue so dark, it appeared black. All of her clothing clung to her body. She could not chance wearing loose clothing that could make noise as she slipped past or bursh against someone. Her clothes were only made of fabric. She only wore simple trousers, a long sleeve shirt, and a vest. Her feet were bare because her paws were more silent than shoes. Her daggers were hidden inside of her vest, and her shortsword was strapped tightly to her back. Night also had a short bow and some arrows, but she kept those hidden for when she was on the road. This mission did not call for that.

Night easily climbed up the wall surrounding the castle and landed silently on the other side, still covered by shadows. No one had seemed to notice her yet. Her dark eyes easily took in her surrondings to find her next stealthy path. The ground might not be the way to go. Night continued along the wall and began to climb up the wall of the castle. Most never thought to look up, so she would use height to her advantage. She slipped into an open window and made her way into the King's castle.

Before long Night was upon a blackony looking down into the King's throne room, still hidden. It had been easy to maneuver her way around courtesans and servants in the halls until she found her way here. The King definitely needed to up his security if someone like her could easily sneak in.

There the King was seated all regal and poweful upon his throne. There were already two others summoned there, a man and a woman. She began to wonder what was going on. If the King really did want her to pay for her crimes, she doubt other commoners would be here. Also, why even send a letter? She began to feel foolish all of a sudden. This wasn't a summons to court, it was another job. She felt calmer and decided to make her move to see what would happen.

Night lept from the balcony that was not that far of a fall for her agile graces. With her cat-like reflexes, she landed gracefully and silenlty. She then walked from the shadows into the lit area of the throne room to be seen by the others. Night gave a slight bow to the King to show him respect, then stood fastened to her spot to see what would happen next.

[Enigma]

Alfred was helping Nicolas Figgins put on his jacket when he suddenly told him, "You should put on your coat too, I'm going to need you for this."
"Me, sir?" Alfred raised his eyebrow speculatively. "In that case, I need a word with the cook, sir."

Slipping through the servant door to the kitchen, he found the cook and the maid already at the servant dining table. "The master wants me to accompany him," Alfred told them, grabbing his coat off of the peg.

"Oh!" the maid sighed, looking suddenly miserable. Alfred gave the cook a glance, and she rolled her eyes and smirked. "Just leave the master and myself a plate in the ice box, if you please. I'll try not to make a mess."
"A man, clean?" the cook chortled softly to the maid. "Certainly would be something to see."

Alfred pretended not to hear that, and slipped out the door before he could hear any further comment.

'Well, Alfreda,' the butler thought to herself, 'who knew that tonight would be a command royal performance?'

The master was already seated in the cab, the driver giving her a rum look for holding up his business as she slipped in the door and took the vacant seat to the right. Knocking on the roof of the cab with his cane, they took off towards the palace.

Alfreda leaned forward, carefully adopting her well-practiced masculine voice. "Sir, I'm not sure why you feel the need..."
"You're an intelligence gatherer, aren't you?" Nicolas shrugged. "It's why I took you on as a butler, so nobody would look at you twice."
"Clearly, you've not observed the maid."
"Oh, fancy you a bit, does she?"
"Affairs between staff are not to be encouraged," she stated firmly in her male voice.
"Yes, proper discipline and all that," Nick grinned, taking the arm of her coat familiarly, then frowned. "Are you armed?"
"Always, sir."
"We're going in to see the king!"
"Part of my job is to protect you, sir. The king already has all the protection he could possibly want."

Minutes later, the cabbie came to a stop by one of the royal gates. They showed him the letter, and in moments they were on the grounds.

A guide led them to the audience chamber where the king and three others were waiting.
"Your Majesty, Nicolas Figgins ..and his butler, sir," the doorman introduced them.

"Hang back here and stay out of sight as much as you can," Nick told her as they bowed to the man on the throne.
"My sentiments exactly, sir."

Nicolas strolled forward, eyeing the odd trio already present. A woman with a sword, and another who worked the trades, judging by her callouses. While the older gentlemen had the loook of a librarian.

"Your obedient servant, sire," Nicolas said, bowing again slightly.

[Yggdrasil_Hugger]

The king gave a toothy grin. He said nothing, however, and seemed both excited and anxious. His left leg began bouncing rapidly, and he pursed his lips as time went on. Four were here, but there were still some missing. He had laughed when the Tabaxi had seeming appeared from the shadows, but he was not laughing now.


Alek scratched his beard as more people began to arrive. Instantly, he was memorizing faces, gaits, how they carried themselves, and any weapons they carried. He himself carried no blade nor hammer, but his very mind was a weapon. The Tabaxi carried a shortsword, the Human woman had a longsword strapped to her oily coveralls, and the Human man seemed to carry nothing but a walking stick.

He twitched his nose as they waited, and began doing silent calculations in his head. The air was becoming thick with the king's nervous energy. He wondered who else they could be waiting for. Outside the window, the city gleamed as sunlight bounced off the copper pipes and mechanical skyline. Airships landed and left the floating docks. Anyone could be on one of those.

[Nikaris]

It had been a day just like any other.

Waking up-early, eating breakfast with her parents, and then it was off to lessons. The first lesson was always the worst. Manners and etiquette. It was a lesson that occurred throughout the morning until lunch. The longest one. Professor Hobs was an ancient, cranky halfling with wild white locks and spectacles that adorned a thin, spidery crack on the left lens. At first glance with his permanently hunched back and natural looking walking stick he appeared to be interesting; however, his appearance proved to be misleading. Professor Hobs would drone on and on about how to hold a teacup correctly, when is it appropriate to greet others, and why manners are the core of running a company. All aspects of running a company that the younger halfling could care less about. It was difficult to pay attention when his whispery voice droned on monotonously. Right as she felt her eyes begin to shut and peaceful slumber began to take over a thunderous SLAP startled her awake. Professor Hobs had slammed a book on the table in front of her reading "25 Different Ways to Greet a Dwarf: A Guide on how to properly greet and not offend a Dwarf."

"Unala, my dear child," He started, annoyance seeping into his voice, "If you want to be successful at running this company you must know which greeting to use and how to interact with other successful individuals." He turned sharply and rather quickly for an older man, and then started to drone on about proper table manners. Unala frowned, and let her head lop onto the table--which earned another stern lecture from Professor Hobs.

As soon as the lesson was over the younger halfling rushed from the room and to the dining hall. She was eager to get away from Professor Hobs before he assigned work outside of the lesson. As soon as she thought she was far enough she stopped rushing and walked the corridor of the mansion slowly. Upon coming to the door that led to the dining room she froze. Whispers, frantic and angered, could be heard through the miniscule gap in the door. It was her parents. Jodal and Lemia Greenbottle were discussing...something. Unala could not hear anything besides the tone and muffled voices.

Suddenly, a flaming head and beady black orbs appeared at the crack in the door. Blinking rapidly and staring at her Unala tried to shoo the fire salamander away, but with no luck. The whispers stopped and her father’s voice bellowed, "Unala! How long have you been there?" Without a second thought the wavy locked halfling opened the door and addressed her father.

"A while." Unala answered, looking between her parents, "What are you whispering about?" As she asked, she could feel the small salamander climb up her leg and then nestle into the crook of her neck. Newt, the fire salamander, was not allowed in lessons with her due to him "being a distraction." So, he stayed with her father until she was done.

"You've received a letter from the King," Her mother interjected, just as stern and watching Unala closely, "You've been summoned to meet with him." Without another word the letter with its gold trimming and official signature was tossed callously onto the table. "Unala Odida Greenbottle, what is going on?"

There was no hesitation anymore. Her parents would find out either way what she had done. During one of her secret visits to the town with Vaara she had heard that the King had sent out letters looking for Adventurers. Knowing full well that her parents would not agree she wrote a response stating that she desired to volunteer. Hence, the letter that was laying on the table. "Well, Mother, Father, I volunteered to be an Adventurer for the King." Her father’s face turned so red that she was sure that he was going to reach out and smack her. However, he restrained himself and slammed a fist on the table. Unala continued, "And since this is the King who is summoning me there is nothing that can be done." Resigned with the knowledge that she was right her parents glanced at each other and frowned. Unala dismissed herself to get ready to leave.

That afternoon Unala packed and arranged for transportation to the city. Thoughts of distant lands and journeys danced through her head. Excitement flooded through her very bones as she placed the last piece of clothes in her bag. Then, she flopped herself on the soft bed. Newt crawled quickly to stand on her chest. "Newt, if you want to come you can. I don't know what will happen, but it's bound to be exciting. And having a familiar face will help." Then in all seriousness she sighed, "I hope one day they can forgive me."

The trip lasted about three days and two nights. Unala was comfortable on the airship as it glided above the clouds. Once arriving at the city, she quickly made her way to the palace. Wearing a forest green undershirt, loose white blouse that was cinched at the waist by a belt, and brown capri pants she was dressed more casually than normal. The defining feature was the longbow and barrel of arrows that were strapped to her back. Along with the short sword at her side. The fire salamander lazily lounged across her neck as she walked. Showing the guards her letter--and noticing the skeptical glances from them--she ventured in. Though the mansion she lived in was elegant the palace surpassed that elegance easily. Finally, she made it to the throne room where she paused. The sudden thought that she would not be the only one struck her. Who else would be going with her? What were they like? More curious then nervous she knocked on the door and waited to be told to enter.

[Denraven]

Orin sat squatting, his bare ass resting on the now warmed porcelain of a public latrine. In his left hand was a near half-empty clear glass bottle of some brownish-black liquid. The strong, unpleasant odor that wafted from the throat of the bottle suggested that the liquid within was closer to airship fuel than anything fit for consumption.
In his right hand was a fine piece of parchment, the quality of the print had an air of importance. Orin squinted at the words printed on the page, trying to force his inebriated brain to decipher

“Royal decree, summoned by the king, blah, blah, blah” Orin stammered out to himself before ripping a strip from the summons, reaching behind himself, and using it to wipe his ass. He did this until he was satisfied that his backside was clean of filth. He brought the bottle to his lips once more and drained the remaining contents in a single draft.

Orin stood up, pulling his pants up simultaneously, in doing so he the bottle slipping from his grip and shatter on the cobblestone floor.
“Shit” Orin swore loudly, he gave the door a swift kick in annoyance, causing it to swing open violently, and stepped out into the pub. He walked towards the entrance of the pub, stopping at a small alcove to the right and knocked on the polished wood of the frame. Almost instantly a small round dwarf popped up.
“Whadda ya’ want ye’ git?” The Dwarf barked incensed.
“Da fuck you think I want Yon? Gimme my bloody weapons back.” Orin retorted
“Plow yerself.” Yon fired back, while still complying as he handed Orin back his yari and stiletto.

Orin, weapons in hand, promptly exited the pub and made his way towards the royal palace. Due to his advanced state of inebriation this was quite the task, as his path to the royal palace lay up a rather steep incline, on a cobblestone road. Orin struggled immensely with this task stumbling and tripping over his own two feet. His yari swung and bounced about bringing mortal danger to anyone who ventured too close. Thankfully the reeking smell of cheap booze permeated the air around him and gave advance warning to those far ahead of him to stay clear.

Finally, he reached the palace gates, only to be met with hostile guards, hands on swords and pikes at the ready.
“Halt!” One of the guards issued forth the challenge.
“Halts whats you gits?!” Orin slurred his response.
“What business do you have here drunkard?!” Another guard questioned.
“The *hic* hell do you mean? I’m *hic* *hic* here for the royal appointment for awendurrrs” Orin said, pointing his Yari forward accusingly.
“The King clearly would not summon a vagabond drunk like you, begone.” The first guard spoke up.
“Fuck you! I’m a veteran!” Orin swore swinging his yari about, the sun gleaming off it revealing the richly engraved design of a dragon coiled into an ouroboros, the symbol of the Royal Dragoons.
“Hold up men!” Boomed a confident voice, clearly one who was in charge. “This man is as he claims to be, a Dragoon, though a sorry excuse for one. Take him into custody and drag him before the king, but disarm him first.”
“You ain’t disarming shit!” Orin shouted charging forward, onto the stumble trip, and thoroughly concuss himself on the stone brick road, rendering himself unconscious.

When he awoke he was in the royal audience chamber, disarmed, cuffed, and flanked by two guards, his head ringing like a church bell, and his mouth filled with the coppery taste of his own blood..

[Yggdrasil_Hugger]

The guards opened the doors for Unala, letting her by after a quick inspection of her papers. It seemed that these letters from the king had become less interesting and rare as more and more adventurers arrived. As Unala entered the throne room, behind her two guards hoisted a man reeking of alcohol into the throne room. They dragged him off to the side, clasping heavy iron bars around his wrists and removing the man's spear. The king cleared his throat, his nervous energy gone. Now he was the king of Gandomere, not the old man on the throne. The guards nudged Orin awake as the king began his speech.

"Welcome, brave adventurers! As you know, magic has returned to world. However, in its present state, it is highly diluted. So something must be done." He swept his eyes over each of his gathered warriors, locking eyes with them for a moment before moving to the next.

"Seven days ago, an elf walked out of the Viridian Glade and deposited an artifact of the Ancients into the hands of a traveler. This traveler brought the artifact to me, and my scientists and historians determined exactly what it was. They opened this," he gestured his hand, and a pedestal in the center of the throne room rose, a silver dodecahedron on top.

"This artifact, this well of power, once opened, returned a modicum of the arcane back into reality. I have reason to believe that there are more of these artifacts elsewhere in the world, each holding a piece of the ancient magic." He paused to gauge reactions.

"I do not know what will happen when magic is fully restored. But I do know this: magic was once a vital piece to our world. Once it was gone, we nearly perished. But if we can bring the magic back, untold wonders will ring across the lands."

"That is where you come in. Your group will be tasked with finding these remaining artifacts and opening them. Your party will have the goal of returning magic to the world. You will face many dangers along the way. Some might seek to stop you. Which is why I have procured your group an airship. Stamped with my royal crest, you will have unrestricted travels. There isn't a place you won't be able to fly. It does not have a name currently, so you will have the pleasure of christening your ship." He smiled to the adventurers.

"And should any of you not feel as though the quest is a reward in and of itself, you will all be paid handsomely upon completion of the task. Estates, gold, anything your hearts could desire will be waiting for you when you return." He let them salivate over the idea for a moment before continuing.

"There are two possible leads we have about the location of the other artifacts. Scattered across the lands, ruins of the cities of the Ancients sit undisturbed. Perhaps the artifacts lay there. The other is the Viridian Glade. When the Ancients disappeared, so did the elves. It was thought they shared a fate, but now we know this isn't true. I'd like you to investigate the Viridian Glade and track down the elves. They could have more of the artifacts. After all, they had the first."

"If you ever need to return to a safe haven, I have also procured your group an estate here in the city. You may return at any time should you need to. Your keys to the estate will be in your airship." With that, he concluded his speech. He didn't say anything more, he just looked at his adventures expectantly.


Alek gaped at the full extent of the words the king spoke. It was still news to him, and possibly others of his group. He knew that magic had returned, but he didn't know where it had come from. He didn't even know it had been an elf that brought forth one of these Artifacts.

After that, it was a blur of motion. If there was a discussion, he missed it, deep in thought. Very quickly, he and the other adventurers were ushered out of the room by the guards. They led the group through the winding city streets, past the various shops and upper-class housing. They eventually were brought to one of the spires, and all crammed into one elevator car. They shot upwards in the brass tube, and exited dizzingly high up. From there, they were led through the sky-docks, dodging and weaving between the various airship sailors going about their dock duties. If they thought their group was diverse, the docks were a rainbow of peoples. Massive Firbolgs carried brass beams and wore belts weighing more than some of their group members. Tiny Kobolds scurried through the docks, sometimes stepping between the legs of others on the docks.

The group was brought to a very expensive-looking airship. 200 feet long end-to-end, it was made for a crew only slightly bigger than their size. A light metal frame surrounded the hydrogen envelope, a navy blue canvas balloon filled with lighter-than-air hydrogen. Under the hydrogen envelope, a brass hull protected the steam engine, living quarters, and mess hall. On the sides of the hull, long wings lay folded to the sides. Behind the hull, a rudder waved slightly in the wind. On either side of the deck, two light cannons sat, ready to be loaded at any moment. On the front of the deck and on between the cannons, ballista also lay ready to be loaded. The whole airship was painted cobalt blue and silver. Above the hydrogen envelope, the flag of Gandomere waved in the wind. Although it was hardly the largest airship, it certainly drew people's attention.

As the group peered at their new airship, the guards spun on their heels and left. Although they didn't rush, they didn't seem to want to stay on the docks for very long. The airship hung in the air, only kept from floating away by a few ropes. Alek cleared his throat.
"Does anyone know how to pilot an airship?"

[Enigma]

"My training was in ocean-going vessels," Nicholas Fibbins admitted. "Steam engines I understand, but flying one of these is nothing I was trained for. I could make do, in a pinch, but without a licensed pilot, I doubt we would be allowed to leave, King's crest or not."

"We could hire a crew, if none are present, but I don't recall the King mentioning anything about expenses. While we may prove lucky and find the air ship is fully provisioned and possessed of a crew, we should probably go aboard and inspect the craft the king has provided. Alfred?"

"Sir?" The butler asked, stepping forward.

"Best to pull out that notebook and pencil of yours," Nick warned as he headed toward's the airship's unattended accommodation ladder, the only means to board the vessel.