And so the group began jettisoning heavy equipment over the side of the gunwale. First went the ballista, Lambrac disconnecting it from its mooring and Krogan heaving it over the side. Then went the heavy ammunition and unnecessary navigation equipment, followed by heavier food supplies and water canisters from the hold. The Professor then reluctantly gestured to a collection of a heavy wooden barrels near the engines.
The fuel. The fuel was to go as well.
It seemed now that whatever happened, the
Scilandar would not be their carriage back to civilization...
Meanwhile, Abbas had begun attempting to repair the loose air compartments in the balloon. He tied the cut chords as best he could back onto their holdings on the gunwale and though not fully repaired, they were much more stable than before.
The ship's rate of descent had eased noticeably but the cliffs could not be more than a hundred meters away. From here, the first scrubs and thick jungle roots were already becoming visible on the rocky lip, as well as the beginning of dense jungle beyond. It was going to be close. Really close.
The Professor moved to stand over the ship's pointed prow and looked over the oncoming wall of rock and the waves crashing against it some two hundred feet lower. Lifting his arms in the air, he began chanting.