June 13th, 3:15 a.m. - the S.S. Halcyon, five miles from RhyDin's coast
The Halcyon was a beautiful clipper ship built in the classic tradition, a square-rigged three-masted vessel faster than most in her class that twice logged speeds of twenty-one knots. She had spent more than ten years in service, ferrying tea, spice and other precious cargo across entire realms to ports like RhyDin, and now she looked to be coming to an abrupt and ignominious end.
As with the previous four times she had approached WestEnd in her career, she passed close to Hjelgata, the illuminated spires marking the entrance into another world. The skies had been clear only minutes ago, up to the moment a dark storm ripped through the portal, blotting out the sky and the horizon with black clouds, high winds and a torrential downpour.
Calm seas suddenly rolled, tossing the ship from side to side, twisting her path. As the crew scrambled through the rigging in a desperate effort to keep their ship in one piece, the navigator came a horrible realization.
"Heading" What's our heading, Mr. Poole"!" the captain bellowed over the roar of the sea.
"Damnable Nexus...!" The navigator tore his eyes away from his compass' erratically spinning needle, cast one more hopeful look at the horizon (still dark, lost almost no distance ahead) and turned back to his captain. "We're lost, sir!"
And the jagged spires of Hjelgata were still close.
* * *
3:30 a.m. - Cadentia
"...watchman from....repeat....from Hjelgata....bad interference....Nexus messing....damned instruments! Over!"
"Hjelgata watchman, this is the Port Authority. Any sign of the S.S. Halcyon' Over."
"...minutes ago! I repeat....passed twenty minutes ago! ...see her at all in this storm, but....close! She's drifting close, no reply to my signals! Over!"
Sergei wasn't sure why his mechanic Xander had been up at this hour, but as soon as they heard the distress call over the airwaves they notified him, and he was out the door in his workshop within minutes. "What happened to your shed?" Xander asked as he entered
Outside even all the way in Cadentia visibility was rendered low by the sudden storm out at sea, strong winds kicking up thick clouds of sand and dust, but Sergei knew what Xander was pointing at. Earlier in the day the gardening shed had been reduced to rubble in an unfortunate grilling accident. "Never mind that now," Sergei replied, returning his gaze to his charts.
"Listen Serg, you head out into the storm, you could end up just as lost as the Halcyon. The Nexus has every compass within ten miles spinning like a top! This is stupid - steer clear of this one."
Sergei looked up and squinted at Xander. "Isn't that a ley-line chart?"
"Duh." Xander handed it over. "Fresh from the local Arcane Survey office. There's a +0.09 surge from Hjelgata along a line that goes most of the way back to RhyDin."
Sergei frowned at the chart and nodded. "Calibrate the magiometer to +0.03, we can use the spikes to navigate back, just like RhyDin..."
"There could be another big shift in about thirty minutes. If we're doing this, we've gotta move fast."
Sergei stared across at Xander, a faint amused smile on his lips. "Wait....weren't you just saying I should get lost....that I shouldn't do this" Shouldn't you be stopping me?"
Xander barked a laugh as he tossed Sergei his helmet: "I lodged my protest, my conscience is clear. C'mon, let's get you suited up."
* * *
3:45 a.m. - the S.S. Halcyon, near Hjelgata
"Mr. Aric, how's that topsail looking"!"
"Won't take another beatin', sir! Oi - what?s that light?"
The Rocketeer plunged headfirst into the storm, and were it not for his quick reflexes he would have plunged straight into the Halcyon's sails too. He had a searchlight attached to his left shoulder, illuminating the deck of the ship as he bobbed and weaved by the air, buffeted by the wind and the way he kept feathering the throttle on his rocket, staying just out of reach of the higher waves.
There were plenty of shouted questions, many of the crew looking at this strange figure with trepidation, but the Rocketeer had their attention and that's what mattered. "Listen close!" His voice boomed out of speakers in his helmet. "I'm from the Port Authority," a lie that would hopefully gain enough of their trust, "I'm here to lead you to RhyDin! Follow as close as you can, and I'll signal our next heading with my arms. Got it?"
The few sailors and officers on deck were still for a moment until the captain seized the initiative: "Aye, officer!" He turned to give new orders, and the Rocketeer waited no longer, roaring out in front of the ship to lead them out of the storm.
* * *
5:00 a.m. - WestEnd
Dawn was almost visible on the now clearing horizon as the S.S. Halcyon limped into port, battered but still intact, and the Rocketeer spent the last part of it on the vessel with the rest of the crew. He had a small medical kit on his suit and a little practical medical knowledge: he helped the ship's doctor with stitches and bandages, and looked after a sailor who'd gotten a concussion from knocking his head on the deck.
By the time they lowered the gangplank the Rocketeer was already suiting up again, putting his gloves back on, pulling his helmet over his mask and goggles. He was steadying himself on the slick railing when he heard a voice behind him.
"You're not with the Port Authority." The officer had his musket pressed to his shoulder, staring down the barrel at the strange figure's back. "But you said you were. So just who the hell are you?" At the Rocketeer's silence, the officer scowled. "I want a name, sir!"
The Rocketeer turned back, looking at the man through tinted goggles and shook his head slowly. "Sorry," he offered, voice filtered through a speaker.
"...You've naught to be sorry for," the officer sighed, lowering his musket. "These men'd be dead if not for you. Weren't a thing we could've done for them. Now get, before my superiors get up here."
The officer had to blink as the Rocketeer simply dove over the edge; in an instant the engine on his back roared to life, masking his escape with a thick vapor trail as he soared away from RhyDin.
The Halcyon was a beautiful clipper ship built in the classic tradition, a square-rigged three-masted vessel faster than most in her class that twice logged speeds of twenty-one knots. She had spent more than ten years in service, ferrying tea, spice and other precious cargo across entire realms to ports like RhyDin, and now she looked to be coming to an abrupt and ignominious end.
As with the previous four times she had approached WestEnd in her career, she passed close to Hjelgata, the illuminated spires marking the entrance into another world. The skies had been clear only minutes ago, up to the moment a dark storm ripped through the portal, blotting out the sky and the horizon with black clouds, high winds and a torrential downpour.
Calm seas suddenly rolled, tossing the ship from side to side, twisting her path. As the crew scrambled through the rigging in a desperate effort to keep their ship in one piece, the navigator came a horrible realization.
"Heading" What's our heading, Mr. Poole"!" the captain bellowed over the roar of the sea.
"Damnable Nexus...!" The navigator tore his eyes away from his compass' erratically spinning needle, cast one more hopeful look at the horizon (still dark, lost almost no distance ahead) and turned back to his captain. "We're lost, sir!"
And the jagged spires of Hjelgata were still close.
* * *
3:30 a.m. - Cadentia
"...watchman from....repeat....from Hjelgata....bad interference....Nexus messing....damned instruments! Over!"
"Hjelgata watchman, this is the Port Authority. Any sign of the S.S. Halcyon' Over."
"...minutes ago! I repeat....passed twenty minutes ago! ...see her at all in this storm, but....close! She's drifting close, no reply to my signals! Over!"
Sergei wasn't sure why his mechanic Xander had been up at this hour, but as soon as they heard the distress call over the airwaves they notified him, and he was out the door in his workshop within minutes. "What happened to your shed?" Xander asked as he entered
Outside even all the way in Cadentia visibility was rendered low by the sudden storm out at sea, strong winds kicking up thick clouds of sand and dust, but Sergei knew what Xander was pointing at. Earlier in the day the gardening shed had been reduced to rubble in an unfortunate grilling accident. "Never mind that now," Sergei replied, returning his gaze to his charts.
"Listen Serg, you head out into the storm, you could end up just as lost as the Halcyon. The Nexus has every compass within ten miles spinning like a top! This is stupid - steer clear of this one."
Sergei looked up and squinted at Xander. "Isn't that a ley-line chart?"
"Duh." Xander handed it over. "Fresh from the local Arcane Survey office. There's a +0.09 surge from Hjelgata along a line that goes most of the way back to RhyDin."
Sergei frowned at the chart and nodded. "Calibrate the magiometer to +0.03, we can use the spikes to navigate back, just like RhyDin..."
"There could be another big shift in about thirty minutes. If we're doing this, we've gotta move fast."
Sergei stared across at Xander, a faint amused smile on his lips. "Wait....weren't you just saying I should get lost....that I shouldn't do this" Shouldn't you be stopping me?"
Xander barked a laugh as he tossed Sergei his helmet: "I lodged my protest, my conscience is clear. C'mon, let's get you suited up."
* * *
3:45 a.m. - the S.S. Halcyon, near Hjelgata
"Mr. Aric, how's that topsail looking"!"
"Won't take another beatin', sir! Oi - what?s that light?"
The Rocketeer plunged headfirst into the storm, and were it not for his quick reflexes he would have plunged straight into the Halcyon's sails too. He had a searchlight attached to his left shoulder, illuminating the deck of the ship as he bobbed and weaved by the air, buffeted by the wind and the way he kept feathering the throttle on his rocket, staying just out of reach of the higher waves.
There were plenty of shouted questions, many of the crew looking at this strange figure with trepidation, but the Rocketeer had their attention and that's what mattered. "Listen close!" His voice boomed out of speakers in his helmet. "I'm from the Port Authority," a lie that would hopefully gain enough of their trust, "I'm here to lead you to RhyDin! Follow as close as you can, and I'll signal our next heading with my arms. Got it?"
The few sailors and officers on deck were still for a moment until the captain seized the initiative: "Aye, officer!" He turned to give new orders, and the Rocketeer waited no longer, roaring out in front of the ship to lead them out of the storm.
* * *
5:00 a.m. - WestEnd
Dawn was almost visible on the now clearing horizon as the S.S. Halcyon limped into port, battered but still intact, and the Rocketeer spent the last part of it on the vessel with the rest of the crew. He had a small medical kit on his suit and a little practical medical knowledge: he helped the ship's doctor with stitches and bandages, and looked after a sailor who'd gotten a concussion from knocking his head on the deck.
By the time they lowered the gangplank the Rocketeer was already suiting up again, putting his gloves back on, pulling his helmet over his mask and goggles. He was steadying himself on the slick railing when he heard a voice behind him.
"You're not with the Port Authority." The officer had his musket pressed to his shoulder, staring down the barrel at the strange figure's back. "But you said you were. So just who the hell are you?" At the Rocketeer's silence, the officer scowled. "I want a name, sir!"
The Rocketeer turned back, looking at the man through tinted goggles and shook his head slowly. "Sorry," he offered, voice filtered through a speaker.
"...You've naught to be sorry for," the officer sighed, lowering his musket. "These men'd be dead if not for you. Weren't a thing we could've done for them. Now get, before my superiors get up here."
The officer had to blink as the Rocketeer simply dove over the edge; in an instant the engine on his back roared to life, masking his escape with a thick vapor trail as he soared away from RhyDin.