Sunday, April 21, 2019

Skyspace #3 - End of the Storm

Pressmore & Glenna

The patter of rain continued to drum upon the grated floor of the hatchway, in addition to the drone was the flash of lightning and boom of thunder. The winds had ceased their howling for a time, the Oaken was drifting in the eye of the storm. Under a pilot’s guidance, the ship made lazy circles, flowing in the same direction as the storm. All effort made to keep the ship as stable as possible. As they stood, their bodies swayed with the motion of the ship. Back and forth, like a gentle pendulum.

“We have to get her down from there,” Glenna said as she loaded another shotgun shell into the breach, “I think the lass has a bruised or broken rib. Either way, it’s agony for her to try and move in her present state.” With the shell loaded she pumped another round into the chamber.

“Terrible, just terrible,” Pressmore shook his head. His eyes dim in plaintive sympathy to the Captain’s condition. With one hand he gripped the side of the handle as the ship had begun to turn again. For his stomach’s sake, he preferred a moment of relative stillness.

“You’ve got to do something for her,” Glenna said.

“I’m sorry, me?” Presmore blinked in sudden realization and looked at the Dwarf.

“Aye, you have to get up there and treat her condition, or at least treat it so she can climb back down and we can button up,” Glenna said, “Don’t you have some magic or some sort?”

<Magic Item Check: Does Pressmore’s kit include a healing potion? 35% Yes with a result of: 05%. Exceptional Yes>

Bastagan Pressmore looked from Glenna down to his bag. It was true, he had some health potions <1D Health Potions results in 4>, he was also content with sharing what he had with his traveling companions as they were helping him travel to his new job. He had also appreciated that he had found quiet accommodations at a reasonable price in exchange for such aid he could provide. The moment appeared as a perfect opportunity to help, with but one lingering reservation.

“You sure you killed that thing on the roof?” He asked. His tone was grave and lacked any note of sarcasm or mirth. His hand tightened on the handle of his case as he asked the question.

“I thought I killed it. I mean, I definitely hit it with the buckshot…”


Eliza recalled that the last thing her mother, Florence Stillwater, told her before the two parted on the airship dock in Ilysium was: “Keep the ship. It’ll serve as an adequate home for a girl without a family.” 

Eliza was the first one to turn away, after a hard stare between her and House Matriarch, she had showed her back to the woman. She had wondered if her mother would have tried something right then. A poisoned dart to the back, a death spell that she had learned from their vast arcane library. Lady Stillwater had lacked the raw arcane talent like Eliza’s sister, Meriweather had possessed, but Florence did possess both an arcane knack and a natural cunning. By her grace, and maybe a little luck, Florence was able to board and leave. 

That was nearly a year ago. In the present, Eliza fought back ears as every action of life made her chest ache. No position was perfect, every inch of movement was marked with a shock of pain. Some of the shocks were short, fading quickly as she settled, but then a tremor would quake through the ship, or the movement of her torso coincided with a movement of her hip and together created a blossom of pain that was deep and throbbing into her side. 

Those heavier jolts caused her to halt all activity and close her eye. The pain was so intense that she yelped in pain from the shock. Compounding her injuries was the constant spray of cold water, soaking her shirt and skin right to the bone. Within the eye of the storm, the wind had died into a constrained breezes that magnified the chill she felt. She swore if she got out of this she would, after downing a bottle of whiskey and rye, that she soak in her tub and remain until they touched down on Landfall. She had cursed the storms vocally and without shame. Quietly, she cursed Pressmore for needing to be in Landfall in a timely manner and Snaptongue for needing to cut through the storm which was occupied by these creatures.

<Does the creature begin to move? 35% Yes results in: 83%>

Eliza glared at the body laid out on the deck. Her voice picked up again after all her quiet cursing, it had to also wait for the pain to subside into a dull ache before the words left her mouth.

“You really had to come up here you bastard and mess with my ship?” She used her throat and tongue to gather a wad of spit. After a breath she leaned forward and spat on the gray humanoid.

<Agility 3D+1 - 1D for 2D+1 vs. TN: 15 - 10 = 5. Result is: 5; Wit: 3D - 1D = 2D vs. TN 12 to Identify the creature. Result is: 4>

The bubbling wad of spit hit the wispy hair of the creature and scattered as it struck. Droplets ran down the lengths of hair while other beads clung to the top. She tried to recall just what exactly was she dealing with on her ship. She couldn’t place the name at that moment, the pain flowing through her made it difficult to concentrate.

She looked up at the noise coming from the hatch. Metal scraped against metal as the top was open and coming out to join her was the Gnome. He said, “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Terrible, you’ve got something to help me out here, Professor?” She asked.

<Does the creature begin to stir? 50% Yes with a result of: 74%>

Pressmore had with him his little black bag as he knelt beside her. His voice was quiet, soothing as he spoke over the rain, “Thankfully I stocked up before we left Point Rook.” Pressmore uncorked the health potion and asked Captain Stillwater to oblige him by tilting her head back and opening her mouth so he could pour the sweet tasting liquid down her throat. As she imbibed, the shock of pain was replaced by a soothing warmth that masked the ache. As bones, sinews, and flesh began to mend the warmth shifted in its intensity to cover the sharp pains she would have felt. The process left her with a distant ache and vanished as she gingerly moved her body.

<Search check Pressmore (5D) vs. Gremlin’s Stealth (5D) = 22 & 19>

Pressmore patted her hand. He was relieved she had recovered from her wound, that relief very present on his face and within himself marveled how quickly such light feelings changed when he heard the wet slap of skin on the ground. He looked behind to see the Gremlin standing the wing. It’s forked tongue drawing across its lips as it watched him.


GM: 2 of Spades

Pressmore: 9 Clubs

Eliza: Joker

Glenna: 6

<Eliza gets the Joker and is healed. Her Joker grants her a bonus Wild Die that may also explode. She raises her pistol and fires twice at the Goblin. The roll code becomes: 4D+1-1D for a total of 3D+1 + Joker Die vs. Defense: 15. Results of both shots result in: 14 & 15. Miss & Hit! With Final damage totaling: 26 - 11 = 15.>

Eliza’s pistol rose up and fired two shots. The first grazed the Gremlin’s cheek while the second one, back by her rage and carried by luck, planted itself between the Gremlin’s eyes. The shot planted itself between the eyes and knocked the creature to the ground, black blood poured from the open wound as it laid there. Whatever spark of life that existed faded from the gremlin, its fingers and toes twitched involuntary before the body stilled. 

“Glenna,” Eliza said over her shoulder. She could see the silhouette of the Dwarf above her with shotgun in hand, “Please get that mess off my wing,” Eliza said, “I’ll be below if you need me.”

“Aye, I’ll do that,” Glenna said. It took some work, slow steps as persons changed position in such an inconvenient location along the flat upper deck of the drifting skyship. It took an extra nudge by Glenna’s boot, but she managed to kick the body of the Gremlin into the storm clouds below. The ship made another circle before it pushed back into the storm and at an agonizing pace limped through the maelstrom towards Landfall City. 

The crew was ever watchful as they moved. Their figures tense as they looked to the storm clouds to spot another gremlin in their midst.

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Skyspace #2 - Man On the Wing

Session #2

Ship’s klaxons blared as Eliza Stillwater approached the hatchway ladder. She had bundled up in a heavy duster with its collar pulled close so that rain would run off the edges and lessen the amount that ran down her shirt. She fit a long brim hat and a pair of goggles to her eyes. Every advantage in order to work in the hurly burly of the storm. She shut her eyes to the constant wail of the klaxon. With her balled fist she pounded on the wall and shouted into the nearby talking tube, “T! T! We get it, turn off the alarm!”

The lights continued to flash but the alarm was silenced. She sighed, preferring the howl of the wind and the drawl of the rain across metal to the squawk of the horns. As she took comfort in the storm’s ambiance, she heard a distant whine through the bulkhead of her ship. The sound was soft, but constant and grating, it was at the perfect frequency that chilled her spine and her shoulders compress. It reminded when she was a child with a private tutor, that sound that horrible woman could make by running her nails down the length of a chalkboard. Scratching, a constant scratch, and from the sound she knew it was no chalkboard on the wing. She turned and waved Glenna to her, as if her motions would speed the Dwarf onward.

“Bastard out there is scratching something on my ship,” She said.

Glenna began threading a guideline along Eliza’s waist. The line served as both an aide to lead her back to the hatch while in the tumult as well as a measure of security. As long as the line held she could never fall too far from the ship. Glenna tied off the line on both ends and gave her Captain a hearty slap on the flank, “Your good to go, lass,” Glenna said, her common was spoken with an accent.

Eliza stood on the upper half of the ladder as she reached for the hatch’s release wheel. She gave it a twist and in turn was rewarded by the soft gasp of air escaping confinement. Rainwater began to spray into hatchway from the side, striking the underside of the hatch, the side of her head, and down towards the deck below. She called down, “Get the bilge ready to expel some of this water!” Eliza yelled more for her comfort, she had confidence that Glenna would know what to do.

Tosk & Bastagan

<Pilot Check vs. TN 16 = 19. Ship Condition Stable>

Though he had seen some better days for flying, Tosk Snaptongue maintained a steady hand of a trembling ship. His mouth held in a deep frown as he continued stare ahead, keeping calm by ignoring whatever had landed on the wing of his ship. The scratching had exacerbated his concerns of what was going on outside. Taken together: the storm, the man, and the sound, it all lead to trouble that other Goblins may have flinched at. It was a true test of mettle and adroitness to keep the ship moving and stable in such trying times. The Gnome didn’t help much.

“You say that you saw the figure of a man outside?” Bastagan Pressmore asked.

“Why did you leave the bow window again?” Tosk asked sharply over his shoulder.

“I figure I could be a help here, seeing as the Captain is stepping outside and your Engineer is occupied with other things. Of course, I wouldn’t want to impose if you’d rather be alone-”

“You're a professor, right? History or something like that?” Tosk asked.

Pressmore nodded and adjusted his glasses, “History and I have a minor in Arcanum. Are you a practicing magician, sir?”

Tosk shook his head, “You ever hear a man who can swim in the air during a storm?”

<Pressmore makes a History check. The GM determines this is a moderate Difficulty at 14. He rolls 6D+1 for a total of: 17>

“A man? Maybe if he was an Aeromancer- a Mage who specializes in air magic, that sort of a thing. Maybe a storm Djinn, but they would significantly taller than man-size. Only other thing I know of are gremlins.”

“What the hell is a Gremlin?” Tosk asked. He heard the distant thud of weighted boots on the surface of his ship. He knew that was Eliza, walking the line.

“Gremlins are a feyish creature. They get here sometimes either by enchanters drawing too much magic from the Fey Wild or a portal is left open too long. They have a very mischievous and malicious sense of humor by our standards. It’s because they are associated with the Queen of Air and Darkness, chaos and entropy-”

Tosk blinked and asked, “She have that many titles?” He was something of a novice when it came to discussing the outer the planes. The last time he had such a conversation was never-and-a-day ago.
“No! She’s called the Queen of Air and Darkness. But she is associated with chaos, it’s why gremlins serve her court. She can control them, but whenever they get too far away, or they end up here, that’s when the trouble really starts.”
By that time a new sound drowned out the world. That’s when the shooting began.


It was the damndest thing she ever saw. The man on the wing drew his fingers along the surface of her ship’s wing. The figure was bent over the wing, its head peering close at the metal as it continued to run its fingers along the metal. Its bulbous head appeared bare at the crown, with wisps of gray or black hair trailing behind its back. Despite the cool air rushing past her and kissing her bare cheeks, the creature had gone without a shred of clothing. Its prominent musculature rippling and gliding as it continued to tease the airship’s wing. Every scratch of its claws created bright yellow sparks that whipped behind it. She took a third step towards the figure, her hand on the grip of the pistol strapped to her waist.

<Does the figure notice Eliza? Rolloff! It’s notice of 5D-1D (4D) vs. her Stealth of 3D+1-1D (2D+1) = 17 & 15 respectively>

The figure lifted its head towards Eliza. A pair of black eyes reflected the soft glow of the ship’s running lights in the faintest of glow, like lighthouse beams reflecting off the ocean at night. The mouth had a slight elongation from the rest of the head, giving the creature a further inhuman quality. It snapped its sharp teeth in the air, its long forked tongue drawn across its soot gray lips.

“By the Light,” Eliza muttered, her heart beating fast. Her limbs ached from the constant motion of winds buffeting her body as she stood there, feet frozen to the floor as she took in the creature that kept low as it scuttled across the deck of the airship. She drew her revolver and said, “Back into the storm. No free rides.”

<Initiative! - Initiative will be determined by Card Draw. This is a standard playing deck with the order going from Ace to 2. Black Suits are valued higher than Red Suits. Jokers are ‘Wild’. Drawing a Joker allows the player to go at anytime and they are granted a bonus Wild Die along with their current dice total. This secondary Wild Die can explode like a normal Wild Die. With that explanation out of the way, we see the following results:

GM: 3 of Hearts>

Eliza Stillwater: King of Clubs>

<Eliza goes first an elects to fire twice at the Gremlin. The stormy conditions are granting the monster a level of concealment, which adds +5 to the TN. The Gremlin’s TN is now 20. Eliza fires twice, reducing her pistol shot by -1D for both attacks as it is a multi-action penalty. Her modified Pistol skill is now: 3D+1. Her rolls are: 11 & 14. Misses!>

Eliza fired two shots rapidly. The shots were timed with a flash of lightning followed by the thunderclap. It was hard to tell what was louder. In the glow the lightning her eyes became wider as she caught a glimpse of the creature standing, its head bent forward as its dark eyes bore down on her. A soft growl escaped from its lips. She swallowed, for in that moment, she knew she had missed. Her shots were too wide.

<The creature closes in for a slash on Eliza. The distance moved combined with the storm costs a Die in action. The result is a Melee roll of 4D vs. a Dodge of 13. Though her boots were weighted, Eliza was not bound and helpless. She could still twist and move her body outof the way of the attack. The roll made results in a 16. Hit! It is not 5 over, so there is no bonus damage. The damage that is there is 4D vs. a Soak of 8 with a result of: 12-8=4. Eliza is wounded>

The creature’s claw swipe struck her in the side at the ribs. She cried in pain as the claws tore into her. She could feel her rib bones buckle, the force of the blow knocked her from her feet to the ground. The sharp puncture of its claws left her burning with blood flowing from the wound onto the raw nerves of her wounds. She maintained a grip on the pistol in her hand.

<At the start of the round, Eliza no longer worries about concealment, but she does have a wound. A wound reduces her rolls by -1D. She is desperate for an attack to work and fires a third shot. The creature’s defenses are reduced to its standard defense of 15. The result is: 8 with a 1 Wild Die. Fumble!>

Click! Her breathing came in quick, painful gulps. She blinked as she realized the pistol did not fire as intended. The gun was jam, and all she could do was see herself reflected in the black mirrors of its eyes. The creature tilted its head and leered at her…

<Does Eliza get rescued by a member of the crew? 75% Yes with a result of: 75%!>

The hatch opened behind Eliza as Glenna emerged topside, her outfit somewhat the same as the Captain’s, though her tough Dwarven skin did not require the excess layers like the Human did. She had her shotgun in hand as she made her way up blinked in surprise by the scene she had stumbled upon. It was effortless to determine friend from foe. By that same measure, it was effortless to determine what foe was going to get…

<Glenna gets a free attack and makes use of her Shotgun. The attack is close range, no bonuses given to the Gremlin’s defense. The result is: 9+6 = 15. Glenna spends her hero point and gets the number she needs to hit. The shotgun deals 4D+2 damage vs. 11 Soak. The resulting damage is: 16. Final result is: 5 - Wounded>

The shotgun blast hit the creature, the gremlin, in the chest and sent it sprawling backwards. It hit the wing and skidded across the metal with a moist grinding sound. During its skid, the body rolled twice, ending with the gremlin curled into its stomach.

“You think it’s dead?” Eliza asked. Each word shocked and drained her body, she had to pause for breath between each single utterance.

<Does the creature attempt to play dead? 75% Yes for a result of: 26%>

For the moment, the gremlin appeared still. Perhaps it moved, but it also could have been the wind. Glenna might have liked to fired again, but there was a risk her buckshot could also damage the wing. They needed a functioning ship if they wished to escape the storm. She said, “I’ll take care of it in a moment, we need to get you below.”

“I’m not sure if I can move… No, please, don’t try… don’t try!” Eliza shouted before Glenna attempted to tug on her.

<Stamina check 1D+1 vs. TN: 17 with a result of: 6>.

The Human let out a agonized scream as pain shot from her sides directly into her chest. Her arm reacted on reflex, her elbow striking Glenna in the chest to knock the Dwarf away. Tears flowed down Eliza’s cheeks from the pain. At that point, not even the threat of death could will her body to move on her injured ribs.

“Alright! Alright, you don’t have to move, I’m going to get Dr. Pressmore. You hold onto this,” Glenna gave up her shotgun, handing it to Eliza as she dipped below again.

Eliza leaned her head back against the swell of the hatch after Glenna had set it down again. The Dwarf had yet to button up the craft, Eliza took some measure of comfort that her shouts might would be heard with some clarity through the semi-open hatch. She waited for Glenna to return, her head shaking as she fought against fatigue. In her constant state of drowsiness she could swear she saw the gremlin’s body move...

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Skyspace #1 - Storm's Brewing


Mini Six Solo Game

Imperial Expanse, two days out from Point Rook.

The Skyship Oaken cruised through the constant blue atmosphere of Skyspace. The freighter was the smallest class of ship that could manage a long term voyage. Smaller models included planet hoppers and sky skiffs, ships that worked either to get one or two men from planet to planet or serve as tender from a larger ship, but ultimately, they were tied either to the Expanse or larger vessels. The oak could turn starboard and strike out for the Greater Blue. Once in the Blue, as it was called, there was very little to be found. No recorded planets had been seen within the blue. The occasional asteroid, some of which were inhabited by hostile or conquered by pirates or the Imperial Navy. What was available to the average, relatively law abiding freighter was crossing the leagues from the Empire in the west to the Republic in the east. The options were few, which was how a freighter captain could make it for a month by accepting what was called a crossing contract and those who could afford to pay either had something important or somewhere to be.

The Oaken was shaped like a silvery bird with a wide bow, shaped like a bird’s breast with a brass lined porthole looking out the center. The ship narrowed towards the rear with a pair of metallic stabilizers attached like a pair of tail feathers. Eliza made a note from her chartroom that she would need the paint touched up when she finished her run. Some of the silver had either chipped off or faded, it lacked its original opulent sheen from when it was first given to her. Two great wings jutted both port and starboard of the bird, making it capable of operating within the freedom of Skyspace or under atmospheric conditions of the unnumbered planets off the ship’s port side. The bridge was located within the head of the bird. Its eyes matched the great window in the bow: rimmed with brass, a light staining from the glazier giving it a soft prismatic look on one side. It looked clear and polish when viewed from behind where the pilot sat.

“Stormcloud ho!” Came the voice of Tosk Snaptongue down a speaking tube. Anyone listening could have heard the Goblin, though it was meant for the lady in the chartroom.

“Can we go around it?” Eliza looked over her charts. A few more planets within the Expanse and then they would cross to the east for Republic territory.

“Pretty thick, we’ll either be mired within the Expanse or pushed further into the blue if we try,” Tosk replied.

“Take us in then,” Eliza said as she stood from her chart, “I’ll inform our guest.”

The name Stillwater meant something in the halls of Imperial Ilysium. On that planet of cobbled streets, palatial grounds, and globular ball gowns, the Stillwaters were a family of notables. Supporters of the Imperial crown, patrons of the arts. A writer who wished to pen actual literature and not tenpenny pulp novels had to state their case and write with beauty before the Lady Stillwater. Lord Stillwater had passed sometime ago, leaving his grand fortune, prestige, and store of arcane items within his wife and children. Thinking on the manor house with its silver and black trim almost had Eliza spitting on the ground. She was by no means a rebel, perhaps a rebel sympathizer, but no true rebel who fought and struggled against the decadence she had seen on that golden planet. When she had her chance to stay within her mother’s good graces by political marriage, she had gladly chosen exile instead. The bird she stood in, that was her inheritance and barely a silver more. She sold most of her finery to pay crew wages and through herself into her work.

As a woman, Eliza had an athletic figure often in men’s breeches and shirts with a pair of calf-high boots. Her clothing was often patched, she may have lived rough but disliked going around in holes and tatters. Her hair was black with a thin red coloring in the tips. She was content in her femininity, but mindful that long hair could be easily snatched in a fight. She had kept her hair in a light shag.

She took a set of metal stairs that lead from the upper bow which held the chartroom and the Captain’s Quarters into the belly of the bird where the galley and general quarters were located. The interior was metal, with little comforts such as cushions on chairs and couches, and a single seascape painting on the wall of the galley. The painting was the latest touch, something for any passengers she had to look at. In this case, her only passenger was sitting at center metal dining table. A cup of tea next to him as he looked through a book.

“Professor Pressmore?” Eliza spoke loud enough to get attention. She fixed her friendliest smile as the Gnome looked up from his book and at her.

“Yes, Captain?” The Professor had forgone his ascot and suit jacket now that the voyage was at full speed. He continued to wear his white shirt and navy blue vest. A pair of wire frame spectacles were firmly attached to his thick nose and magnified the stark greenness of his eyes. It was as if he had a pair of polished emeralds stuffed in his sockets. As a Gnome, he had to look up to meet Eliza’s eye. He was roughly as tall as Tosk at the controls. But where a Goblin like Tosk had seafoam green skin, Bastagan Pressmore had pale skin with two light splotches on his cheeks. He closed the book and sat it down on the table. His mouth held in a frown.

“I’m sorry to say, but we’ve a storm up ahead. Don’t be surprised if it gets a little rough back here. Ship rolling, pots and pans shaking, that sort of thing,” Eliza said.

“That’s unfortunate, I was hoping we would have friendly skies on my first outing. Is there anything I can do?” He asked with an earnest tone. Of course, the Professor was no crewman. He was a Historian on his way to Landfall University within the Expanse and a passenger on the vessel. Eliza felt a certain sympathy for him: he was stuck in the middle of the Blue with little in the ability to help.

“Just stay here where it is safe. I’ll come back down and check on you. Did you happen to see where Miss Blackforge went?” Eliza asked.
“Engineer Blackforge is in the kitchen making a sandwich, Captain.” He tilted his head towards wooden swing door, on of the few organic items on the ship.

<Does the ship feel the effects of the weather at this point? 35% Yes results in: 07%. Critical Yes!>

Glenna Blackforge tossed a used knife into the galley sink. She knew she would have to wash it later, ship’s rules. The Captain was not the maid and if you soiled something, you cleaned it. She made a mental note to take care of the matter before she returned to her shift below decks. That’s where Glenna spent most of her time, it had become her world. Grinding gears and pressure gauges. She made sure that the arcane crystals that powered the Oaken were kept in the right temperature that created the steam necessary to keep the ship moving, but not so hot that the belly of the bird-shaped craft would explode.

She looked up from her turkey sandwich. Dueling sounds vied for her attention. One was a voice, which she recognized as the Captain’s. The other was a heavy rumble that burst in the distance and sent a shockwave that buffeted the ship. It was a cause for concern, which was why Glenna bit down and began to chew on her sandwich as much as possible. She filled her pale, freckled cheeks with as much turkey and mustard she could pack in. She went through all of that trouble to simply toss the sandwich. She felt the metal floor begin to tremble with a soft shaking noise emanating from the cabinet. The ship rapidly banked to port without warning. The movement was so fast and sudden in its tilt that Glenna had tried to hold on to something as it was done.

<Glenna’s Agility 2D+1 vs. TN 12 to avoid damage from falling object. The result was: 5. Failure! Glenna takes 2D+2 = 10 damage vs. 12 Soak>

Glenna was thrown back by the sudden maneuver. As she her back hit the counter, a bowl flew out of the cabinet at her. She was surprised by the movement that she had little chance to dodge the object. It bounced off her heavy utility clothing. She concentrated less on worrying about the maneuvering and more about checking her body for any cuts or scrapes. She appeared to be free of any permanent injury beyond a slight jolt of pain where the cup hit. She saw that Captain Stillwater had peaked inside and watched the Dwarf tossed around in the storm.

“The hell is Snaptongue on steerin’ the ship like this?” Glenna snapped as she grabbed a towel to try and soak up some of the brew she had poured herself. Her choice of drink was a light beer that covered her utilities. She snapped to Eliza and said: “Ye mind tellin’ me what that nimrod is up to?”

“We’re heading into a storm, Glenna,” Eliza said. She let the snap of her Engineer pass. It was the quirk of Dwarves.

“That don’t mean he needs to fly into every wind flurry inside the thing, Captain,” Glenna sourly retorted. She wanted to change, the last thing she wanted was the fermented liquid to cling to her. She took up a cup of water that Eliza poured for her and used it to help moist her sandwich so she could eat faster.

“Professor Pressmore, will you okay here or do you wish to sit in the chart room?” Eliza asked.

The Gnome looked at her and said, “I think I’ll keep an eye out through the hull window if it’s all the same to you, Captain.”

<Is the ship tossed anymore? 35% Yes with a result of: 45%>

A light tremor fed into the ship, otherwise things appeared to settle for the moment. Captain Stillwater nodded and said, “I’ll be on the bridge.”

Stillwater & Snaptongue
Captain Stillwater climbed the metal stairs and ducked underneath the rim of the hatch as she passed into the chart room. The previous turbulence had scattered some of the charts to the floor. She sighed, but continued up the second set of steps that lead into the skull of the bird. The bridge of the Oaken.

Tosk Snaptongue sat in the helm, his thin green arms fought with the control wheel to keep stability against the high winds and the flurries that buffeted the front and sides of the skyship.

<Pilot check: 6D+1 with a TN 16 to maintain stability. Failure means that the ship is being tossed and actions become more difficult. The result is: 24. Success!>

Though beads of sweat formed at the top of his brow, Tosk had timed his maneuvers well and kept the ship as stable as possible. It was not perfect by no means, and he was going to hear about it from Glenna later, but the Captain was impressed by her helsmen’s movements. She patted the top of his chair and asked, “How long do you think this storm will last?”

“I haven’t seen an exit out of here yet. It must be a large one. If it formed behind us, I would say it was an Arch-Mage in Ilysium sending the furies after you, but this one sat like a blot in front of us,” Tosk said. In the distance several lightning strikes flashed in the off the port with the Oaken.

<GM grants Eliza a Notice check to spot something within the storm. Her Search is 3D vs. TN 18. A Difficult task for even a trained spotter. The result is: 12+6 = 18. Eliza spends her Hero Point>

As she looked out one of the bird’s eyes, she noticed something in the distance. A dark speck that wrapped itself around a nearby cyclone, spinning, but never flailing wildly in the wind. It simply went with the cyclone’s action, yet a feeling within Eliza told her she was not looking at any debris. It had a build with a thick mass in the middle sets of a thinner appendages, like arms and legs.

“What is that?” Eliza pointed out the window.

<Tosk has a Search of 4D+1 vs. TN 15. Easier due to Eliza’s guidance, but not by much due to the storm. He rolls a: 17>

The Goblin narrows his yellow eyes, his sharp teeth worry his lower lip as he looked in the general direction that Eliza indicated. He sid, “I don’t know. It’s like a man… the most unluckiest bastard in the Blue.”
Eliza watches with interest as the figure continued to be pulled along the stream of the cyclone. She had begun to suspect that, much to her sadness and revulsion, found body that was unfortunately stuck mid-cyclone. It was too her shock that the body suddenly became ‘active’ as the ship passed that particular cyclone. Its arms spread and the legs were pulled towards the body. It appeared poised, like a diver right before they take the plunge. With a push, the figure had broken from the cyclone and sailed straight for the Oaken.

<Does the figure attach itself to the Oaken? Raw agility is 3D with a TN of 12. The result is: 12>

Whatever it was. Man or monster. It took to the air like a graceful swimmer. A perfect breaststroke followed by a controlled loop. Towards the end of the loop, as the figure sailed back down towards a revolution, it broke off and banked at an angle to land off view. As it drew closer, it was very clear the shape of a Humanoid. The drawl of the rain across the metallic frame drowned out the thud of it landing somewhere on her ship.

“Now it’s on my ship,” She growled and slapped the back of Tosk’s chair. She paused, hoping that Tosk understood the source of her anger. After a brief huff, she said: “Keep us steady, T. I’m going to have a look.”

“Make sure to keep a secure line on your waist,” Tosk called after her. He leaned and said, “Glenna! Glenna! Meet the Captain in the galley. She’s going outside.”