"These llamas must be some majestic and fearsome beasts", comments Lehai who had never seen a llama before. "But if all it takes to not get messed with by the storm is a strong will, I won't be in danger either."

And with that, Lehai Quandar starts eating.

Dal pondered what was said for a moment, trying to make sense of these storms. “You said ‘usually protected’. What happens to people if they aren’t protected? Are they changed somehow? Harmed? Transformed into strange beasts?”

Dal understood something of the randomness of magic, and had seen first hand what happens when it is left unchecked. “The other question is, is this chaos truly a natural occurrence, or is there really some strange entity behind it, controlling it all somehow? I’ve heard tales of strange practitioners and powerful beings that can manipulate the forces of life and death.”

"The question of great powers controlling everything is for clerics," Arcto says.  "We can only study the things in front of us.  If there is some mortal being behind this, it's not someone I want as an enemy.  Now, mind you, here in the Southlands you run across things like this.  This isn't the only wonder of the world, it's just chaos's wonder.  If you want to walk on a cloud, you can find that too.

"But we're living with this, and I would even say people prosper from it.  A chaos farm can make you wealthy, because it brings novelty and unusual things, and people will pay more for that they would pay for another bushel of whatever the local farms always grow anyway.  You just have to learn to live with the danger- but that's true for sailors and miners and many people, now?  Look at Alchemists, they've been tossed out of three cities and have blown up at least five of their guild halls."

"You should know about the dangers, but don't be overly frightened.  Over the years, a few people have been lost entirely.  A pair of prospectors with no llamas, a few folk from Stonebell."

One of the Fairies supplies a helpful reminder:  "If you are exploring and there's a storm you need a llama."

Arcto continues.  "A single event or two can become a legend, and even if it happened only once or twice it becomes something Everyone Knows Happens.  Stonebell is old.  It doesn’t happen often, but often enough to add up over the years.  A few lost, here and there.

"Then, there are a few who were changed, and survived. Occasionally a passing wizard will help out by changing someone back, and a few times it seems to have passed on its own. Sormel the Dwarf is still a four foot tall hedgehog.  And that poor fellow from Sanzi is a coach.

"Not the kind that advises athletes.

"The kind with wheels and seats."

Another Fairy interruption:  "But the creatures!"

"Yes," Arto says.  "A more common danger is unworldly creatures, and the changing land forms. The two roads always stay where they are, but past that, things change.  Rocks move.  Caves appear and disappear.  Never go into a natural cave when the storm comes, because that cave might not be there when its over.  Or the cave might turn out to be a tunnel opening into someplace else.  Dwarf made tunnels are safe."

The Fairy Staff brings out another menu, since there were requests.  Though smaller, it also looks like its been updated many, many times.

It is the Wine and Spirits menu, for those wanting more than the Stonebell Stout that comes with the meals.

Arcto's wife Cornelia explains one key point:  "The Fairies engage in their own distilling," she says, "and they are quite... experimental... since we have an unpredictable crop here."

"Brewing drinks from nature's bounty is old Fairy tradition," Firefern says.  "Most Fairies won't make quite so much at one time as we do.  A few cups will do it for a whole Fairy tribe, but barely get a Dwarf tipsy."


___________________________________________________________________

By the Glass
Yam Cordial          5 cp
Celery Root Liqueur  5 cp
Wildberry Brandy     1 sp
Homemade Watermelon Wine   2 cp
Honoan Rum.  Strong, Sweet, distilled from sugarcane and coconut.  2 sp


Tankards
Myrtle Elven White Wine.  Light, sweet, slightly floral  3 sp
Honoan Rum.  Strong, Sweet, distilled from sugarcane and coconut.  1 gp
Belande Midsummer Red   a standard   3 SP
Prozhian Dry White   3 SP  Stiffer, stronger than Elven wine


Imported, by the tankard
Ullandian Port   25 GP
Marvoni Wine     12 GP  A smooth classic from renowned vineyards across the sea.

Mixed Drinks 1 SP each.
Honoan Sunrise.  Rum, fruit juice, clove
Purple Dragon    Brandy, various berry juices, mint, spices
Rainbow Fairywhacker  (House special, the fairies won't tell anyone what's in it)
Rainbow Fairytickler (The fairywhacker, blended with fruit juice)

Dal shrugged, that made sense he supposed. Most people took risks in their work all the time, but because they were boring and mundane nobody else ever gave it a second thought.

He perused the menu, but decided to stick with his stout for today, thinking that maybe he would try the wine tomorrow.

His thoughts turned to the invitation. “So, we have all been invited to this land, with free board and lodging for a month. What does your queen want with us, about from our sparkling wit? She must have some grand plan to go with the expense of our travel and upkeep?”

"A fair question," Arcto says as Fairies check for drink orders.  "But one our queen has not provided a clear answer to, and I hesitate to presume on her behalf."

 

"So I'll presume instead," Zynobia says.

The old woman clears her throat, and takes a drink from her mug of stout.   "You see, Montebon is a small kingdom, less than 300 miles here to Kotvi, as the Dragon flies.  Small, but it's got some very fine points and good opportunity.  But, it's got all these mountains... the easternmost snow capped peak on the whole continent, and of course the Chaos Storms.  Also, Montebon isn't the wealthiest kingdom on the continent.  It's backers back across the sea aren't very wealthy, either.  So Queen Helena can't afford to hire a great army or the world's mightiest heroes to tame this place.  So invites have gone out, to people looking to settle in the Southlands, having us.. right there in the very strategically located Deluzion Break... host some people in lieu of being assessed taxes this year.

"Now  I can't help noticing that you are interesting immigrants.  None of you brought families.  None of you are my age with old clompy legs that don't go very fast anymore.  None of you are related. A few of you are fairly well armed, but no one has farming or mining tools.  Yet you have the air of decent folk, not a gang of thieves.  Now, of course there are no obligations to those certificates.  You might all leave tomorrow.  But just maybe one or more of you might stay a while, and in that while, I'm betting that the Queen is thinking you'll be good for us.  Maybe make life a little easier and better for the people here, maybe help us be more prosperous.  When word of that gets around, more of the settlers with families and tools show up, and then things really start moving around here.

"All just my speculation, of course."

Qui-Lin listened with interest, avoiding interrupting as Zynobia spoke. She'd ordered no additional drink, sticking with the stout that came with her fish.

"I'm no farmer," she admitted.  "And I have my own reasons for venturing this far.  But I've always been a sucker for the underdog.  Comes from being one, for a long time."

Dal nodded. “That makes sense. Why pay someone to clear the land when you can get adventurers to clear it for you for free. And if they find anything juicy like a seam of gold you can tax it at a later date.”

Lehai was just eating their food in peace and quiet but now they dare to speak up. "If the queen wanted something specific from us, she would have told us before coming here. It's frankly insane to hire people without telling them what they are hired for. So I assume the guy handing out the lodging documents was simply told to look out for strong looking adventurers. To clean up the place."

They take a long sip from the mug before slamming it on the table. "Fairies! As soon as you hear anything about beasts or monsters, tell me first. I am not good for anything but killing ... that's my job. That and leading people through the wilderness, I guess."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:15, Wed 12 Aug 2020.

"Patrol and protect? I can do that," Atraxus says in response to Zynobia. "I was a tracker and a guide back home, and was looking to do something similar here.

"Of course," he adds with a grin, "I'm not above helping farm if that's something you need."

Here, we skip a little bit of time.

The adventurers settle in for the evening, and even get their rooms- as uncrowded as the Guesthouse currently is, everyone has a room!  And since the rooms are cut into the solid rock of the cliff, you can hardly hear the snoring of that Dwarf.

Or perhaps that's the sound of the storm.

The rooms are spacious, comfortable, with plenty of extra room- one of the Fairies says that sometimes merchants will come, like the Dwarves of Chromic Notch, or wool traders and other Chaos Farmers from Stone Bell and even further, and they like having the storage space for their goods... although the Llamas have to stay in their shed.

They tell you will probably hear the bell at Stonebell in the morning.

"It's a big.  Stone.  Bell."  Petunia explains.  "Sometimes people are not the most creative with naming places.  But they strike the bell always right on time.  They say that keeping some very regular schedules helps lessen the impacts of chaos.  I don't know about that, but every morning they sound the bell, and we can hear it here, even though it's miles away.  So don't let it scare you."

**************************

By morning, the storm is raging, though it seems more wind than water, there is a lot of wind.   It howls outside through the gap of Deluzion Break, where the tight stone channel squeezes all sorts of sounds out of the wind.  It does sound somewhat… odd.  But the Fairies say it is just the wind in the gorge.  It does that a lot.

  But there’s nothing unusual inside the Guesthouse, where, one by one, everyone arrives in the Common Room for breakfast and morning chitchat.  Fairies serve hot tea and biscuits.

In the distance, there is a low gong sound, repeated at precise intervals.  Stonebell, Zwiddle says.

In the Guesthouse, scarcely a window rattles.  Everything seems sound and secure.  There are more people than there were the evening before- the rest of Arcto's family, which seems to be incomplete, as there are gaps- he has grandchildren and a daughter, no son in law, for example, and where does Zynobia fit in, as she and Arcto seem to go way back?  There aren't any more guests, though.  Zynobia mentions that this is normal, no one heads out when they think a storm is coming.

Fairies stare out of the window, looking out to see, commenting on the colors and swirls of light in the clouds.

"Oooh, purple!"

Taking a sip of her tea as she gingerly ate her bisquits, Qui-Lin gave the impression of someone who was working hard on her poise, rather than having it come naturally.

Even so, she carefully put the tea down and asked, "That bell is keeping the chaos at bay?"

"If you ask the Dwarves, they'd say any kind of Order helps keep Chaos at bay," Zynobia says.  "The more, the better, the bigger the better.  That's why they built the streets in Sanzi in a perfect grid.  And the people in Stonebell- Humans, not Dwarves- they agree, because they make it a point to sound that bell on exact schedules.  This place has its own protections, old spells, and that statue out front on the top side... ah, I guess you haven't seen that yet, with the storm going."

Fairies do seem a little fond of some Chaos, especially when its safely in the distance.  There's at least one looking out of the window, all the time.

It does look a lot like a normal storm, aside from the strange splotches of light and color.

It passes its peak, though, and is soon getting lighter.  The sound of the wind begins to die down.

Petunia is watching through the window, taking in the last acts of the natural show, when she suddenly squeaks up:

"Holy Hopping Wallabies Would You Look At THAT!"

Lehai tries to get comfortable as all of this is going on. Storms ... storms are nice and this one might be entertaining, too.


They look to see what is going on.

Just gonna stay silent for a while and watch the show until the storm does something wild that warrants action.

Dal settled in nicely. He enjoyed the comforts of a warm bath, his first in a long, long time and washed his body and hair thoroughly. After that he slept well in his big, soft bed.

He rose early and came down to break his fast, eating a combination of fresh melon and dwarf biscuits. Then he stood on the porch, silently watching the storm. His eyes shone above a broad smile. This was his kind of place! His sipped at his tea, hot and sweet, and silently watched, feeling the energy from the storm.

To no one in particular he said. “Humans like order, Dwarves even more so. We like to have things in the right place at the right time. We like routine, constants. We like the boredom of knowing what will happen next.” He sipped his tea again. “Well, other humans do.”

"Well, this is certainly different," Atraxus says as he watches the chaos storm unfold from the safety of the inn. He stands near one of the windows, close enough to have a clear view but far enough away to duck into cover should things go awry.

When Petunia makes her exclamation, the Half-Orc tries to spot whatever it is that caused her reaction.

It doesn't take a lot to get a Fairy excited, but Petunia’s frantic squeak cut through the Common Roof and there is silence as all eyes turn to the Fairy, pressed against a window on the cliff side of the common room, staring intently out into the chaos beyond the cliff.

Others start rushing to the window.

They see, amidst the still roiling winds of the dying storm, a ship.  Some kind of ship, long and wooden, though without any oars.  No sails, either, though where the sails would be the ship has a gigantic cloth bag, longer and wider than the ship itself.   The ship appears to be hanging from the bag, which is fully inflated.

Very quickly, those watching realize that this bizarre flying ship is headed straight for the Guesthouse.  It cannot possibly be sheer luck as there is nothing else of interest around for miles on either side.  For a few moments it seems as if it might be trying to land on top of the cliff near the Guesthouse, but then it becomes frightfully clear that it will not make it.  It is much too low, and still headed right towards Deluzion Break.

Is it trying to fly into the break?

It looks like everyone will know, all too soon.

"Uh-oh." Lehai stares intently at the flying ship heading towards them. "We might want to evacuate. Or at least retreat further into the mountain."

They try to estimate not with their head but with their intuition, wink wink if the ship might succeed in flying through the crack or, if it won't, which part of the guesthouse it will crush the most likely into.

16:33, Today: Lehai Quandar rolled 12 using 1d20+3. Estimating course of the ship.

"But I wasn't done with my tea yet," Qui-Lin deadpanned.

She rose and glanced out the window.  If the impact did seem imminent, she dashed to her room.

Lehai does some quick internal head math.

It's not going to hit the Guesthouse, even though it looks like it is trying to get to the Guesthouse.  It is too low, and losing altitude.  As it draws nearer, they can see the top of it- just a huge inflated bag of some kind, restrained by ropes.  The rest of the ship becomes hidden underneath.

Fairies crowd around the "big folk" at the window.

"They have to stop," Petunia says.  "If they do not stop they cannot get up over the cliff, and it is too big to fit into the Break."

Deluzion Break itself is a narrow canyon in the cliff.  It is actually a little wider (in most places) than the ship, but the sides are not straight, it would be impossible for the ship to wriggle into it.

"They must be trying to escape the storm," Firefern says, "but the storm is getting lighter.  If they can just hold on..."

 If that is what they are trying to do, they do not succeed.  It hits the cliff wall right at the Break, but well below the Guesthouse.  The impact can be seen but not heard inside the Guesthouse.  The wind, and the walls and windows muffle and obscure the sound from outside, and the impact of a giant air filled bag isn't a very noisy thing to begin with.

From above, all they can see is the great bag passing beneath, but then the balcony obscures the view.  They can see ripples race across the inflated bag, and then they see it bounce back.  The great inflated bag is rippling and sagging, but they cannot see whatever is beneath it.

Atraxus cannot help but flinch as the ship strikes the wall of the Break.

"Is there anything we can do to help them?" the Half-Orc manages to ask through a strained grimace. "Any llamas available, or is the storm too dangerous to brave?"

"I am available", replies Lehai snottily while gathering their stuff (they only take two shortswords and the traveler's clothes with them).

Lehai heads out into the storm outside to bring whoever has survived the impact inside the guesthouse. "Give me a minute."

Dal watched with morbid fascination as the strange ship struggled with the storm. While he wanted them to be safe, part of him couldn’t help wonder what would happen if they crashed violently...

Then it did crash, or at least collide with the cliff wall. Any sound was muffled by the storm, but he could imagine the noise made by ripping cloth and rending wood. He felt a strange compulsion to help. Grabbing his cloak and wrapping it around his slender frame he headed out with Lehai, to do whatever could be done.

Dashing to her room, Qui-Lin grabbed her rope.  Then, she rushed back out.

"We have to help," she explained.  "Anchor me." She handed one end of the rope to a friend, then tied the other around her waist.

"You don't need the rope just yet, we don't know where you'll be climbing to," Zynobia says.  "The cliff is four hundred feet high.  That's why we have the stairs and the lift.  Keep the rope handy, though..."

"I want to go to," Petunia declares.  "Tie ME down!"

"With what, string?" Zwiddle asks.

As if to underscore the point, the wind just from the opening of the door blows the Fairies six feet back from it.  The storm is ebbing, but there is still more than enough wind to hurl Fairies about like leaves.

"No weather for Fairies," Zwiddle says.  "I imagine even an Elf would have problems.  Well, a petite one.  Not weighted down.  Don't worry, Petunia, these folks will know what to do.  That one climbed up instead of using the stairs.


At this point we move to a new thread, The Airship.  I'm going to make the old threads public as we move along to the new ones, so everyone can read each other's past adventures!

"Damn straight, I did!  This Elf's got more meat on her bones!"

Kealoha had been rather quiet, all things considered.  She'd sat aside in silent introspection both the night before and that morning while others talked and elaborated on affairs of why the group had been summoned, what their goals were to be, and so forth.  The idea that there was no real plan apparent didn't bother her - she had her own destination in mind, after all.  It didn't seem like she'd have any trouble getting to it either - nobody had really seemed to notice when she'd absconded away to her room earlier, only to be drawn back out by the subdued clamor of the crashing airship.

It was timely enough for her to reappear at the top of the stairs, already decked out in her climbing gear with a battered steel piton in hand when she was mentioned.  Like a summoning spell to conjure a grinning adrenaline junkie, the Half-Elf had returned!  And promptly hauled ass out the front door to do what she could to help; threat of storm and gravity be damned.

>> To the Airship! >>