“If you get sick one more time on my boat, I’m going to turn you into a mop and bucket,” the Arch-mage Havelock said. He then smiled in mirth, walked away shaking his head, as he left My-re sitting and resting against the side railing of the Unsinkable III.
My-re pulled her heavy blanket a little tighter against the cold. Logically, she thought it would be warmer this high in the air and closer to the sun, but it was the exact opposite. The Shagornan elf crew went about their duties, unaffected by the elements, and went around her when necessary. The flying swordsman tri-mast began to sail through another grey cloud in the morning sky. They were two weeks out from the Isle of the Eye and crossed the boarders into the Rirorni Empire two days ago. For those two days the ship flew higher to avoid detection. Since then, she had spent a second sleepless night on the deck of the ship and periodically heaving out her innards over the side. The entire insides of her body twisted, like an angry Shewish giant ringing out a wet towel. Her stomach was so tight if she even tried to take a sip of water it would immediately come back up with whatever other fluids her body could find on the way out. The quest to find Araminth didn’t matter. Her role as a Rirorni interpreter didn’t matter. There was no thought of drinking, comfort left her a long time ago, and food was right out.
“So, this is what dying feels like,” My-re bemoaned to herself.
The mere dragon called Koma sat near her. It raised its maroon colored head and sleepily opened its eyes, glanced at her, almost as if checking she was okay, and rested its head back on its front paws. Havelock was rotating the three creatures out of the hold and after exploring the deck, Koma had curled up next to her. At first she thought it had sought her out being the weakest member of the crew and planned on eating her. If that was the case there wasn’t anything she could do. She doubted she could have fought off a big fat baby at this point. She really didn’t care, because at least she’d be out of her misery.
A fresh breeze blew through her hair and it felt good for a brief moment before another wave of nausea swept through her body. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the deck.
“Good morning My-re,” came the voice of Vomarian Fae and captain of the ship.
“What’s good about it?” My-re retorted and curled into a ball.
“By the nine hells, you look worse off than yesterday. Your color is a mixture between white and grey. It’s like I’m seeing the color of sadness,” Vomarian said.
My-re opened one eye and glared. She was too sick to even raise a finger in a rude gesture.
“I’ve never seen sea sickness hit someone like this before. The ship isn’t even rocking, so I don’t know what’s going on,” Vomarian said studying her. “Do you think you caught a disease?”
“It’s altitude sickness,” Havelock said coming up eating a sandwich.
“Is it contagious?”
“Yes and no. Anyone can get it, but it’s not contagious,” Havelock said. “There isn’t as much air this high compared to on the ground.”
“Would decreasing the ship’s elevation help?” Vomarian Fae asked.
“I would caution against that direction. It would be better if our approach is undetected by our Rirorni friends,” Havelock said then added. “They’re a bit unpredictable and a might skittish.”
Vomarian pondered Havelock’s statement. “I agree. It’s better the Rirorni not notice a flying ship enter their territory. I know My-re is uncomfortable, but it’s not like she’s going to die.”
“Oh, her body is dying,” Havelock said.
“What!?” Vomarian and My-re asked simultaneously. However, she wasn’t surprised considering how horrible she felt.
“Oh, not immediately,” Havelock said waiving off the looks of concern. “Her body will probably go into shock from dehydration and lack of air sometime later tonight, so we can probably find a place to land when the sun goes down and let her recoup. So, that means another day in the air and further progress. We might even make it to the Storm Crags by then.”
“Can you last twelve more hours My-re?” Vomarian asked bending down towards her.
My-re moaned at the thought of another day of this sickness.
“Take us down!” Vomarian Fae shouted. He then turned to Havelock and said, “We’ll have to risk it.”
“I can make it,” My-re said and tried to grin, but more queasiness swept through her body.
“No, you look like death warmed over. I’ve seen creatures hit by coaches that look better than you do right now,” Vomarian Fae said and placed a lock of wild, blowing black hair behind her ear.
My-re nodded and laid back down on the deck. She could feel the craft descend and saw the clouds now above her.
“All clear on the plains below!” shouted a Shagornan elf from the crow’s nest.
About twenty minutes later, she started to feel better. The Shewish Giant had stopped twisting her guys, but instead traveled to her brain and began to beat on it like a drum. A fair trade.
“Your color is starting to return,” Vomarian Fae commented walking by and before leaving said, “Let me know when you are ready to eat.”
Nodding in appreciate, she pulled herself up using the railing and glanced to the Rirorni plains below. The lush countryside she was used to in Alastari had changed. The landscape was sparsely covered with tired grass and looked fit to produce only rocks, many of which jutted at odd angels. It was a dark and decrepit place, with a weak sun muted by thin, grey clouds.
“Keep her close to the ground! I want to be flying right above the tallest piece of grass! Stay behind the hills as much as possible!” Vomarian Fae barked to the navigator.
As the hours passed, and after a small meal of bread, fruit, and cheese My-re’s head started to feel better. She also noted the landscape began to become hillier. In the south vast peaks were starting to form.
“What are those? My-re asked Vomarian Fae pointing in the distance.
“Those are the Storm Crags. Impenetrable by foot or hoof. We want to stay clear of that. A simple shower can quickly turn into a tempest being caught between the jagged crags and the vortex of the winds trapping it within.”
“Large knoll approaching!” a Shagornan elf called out from the crow’s next.
The Unsinkable III bow rose up. Most of the crew, including My-re grabbed onto the railing for support. After a minute or so, the ship began to summit the hill. She noted the mere dragon Koma raise its maroon head and sniff around. It rose to all four feet and a menacing growl emanated from its throat. She watched as its green striped body turn to the bow of the ship and peak before it. Its long whip-like tail thrashed about quickly in agitation. Its heavy claws gripped the deck.
“Don’t go over the hill!” My-re shouted. “Turn!”
Vomarian Fae looked to her in confusion, the Shagornan elves at the wheel looked to Vomarian for orders, while Havelock patted Koma trying to calm the mere dragon.
The Unsinkable III crested the hill and began to quickly accelerate downward. On the other side was an enormous Rirorni encampment. A maze of similar looking bivouacs along with their cooking fires dotted the landscape. Mounted patrols stopped at the sight of the flying ship and turned their direction. In the center was a gigantic marquee seemingly made from thick rugs with a ring of heavily armored guards in ceremonial garb each decorated with the appearance of an angry demon. Each carried a short spear and a small shield and was completely motionless.
“Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!” shouted a Shagornan elf in the crow’s nest in panic.
The ship began to rise. A loud crash followed along with the snapping of wood. The din grew.
My-re ran to the aft of the ship and saw a trail of destroyed tents and their wooden support polls in the Unsinkable III’s wake. Rirorni swarmed from the camp, like mad fire ants and cursed venomously in Rathiri, the Rirorni native tongue. She cringed at the harsh language and even picked up a few new Rirorni curses she hadn’t heard before, which roughly translated to questioning the virtuous nature of one’s mother.
Like rain falling on a roof, the ‘thunking’ sound of arrow hitting the underside of the ship began. All the perimeter scouts sped their direction.
“Get us out of here!” Vomarian Fae shouted. “We have to get higher and out run them!”
As the ship gained altitude, the arrow fire waned, but the mounted Rirorni easily kept pace with the flying ship. My-re also noted some speeding away in different directions. She suspected they were going to get help or warn other nearby encampments.
My-re said, “We aren’t going to lose them. Those Rirorni ponies don’t tire easily and they will relay in fresh ones as needed. There’s too many to fight and too many to flee from.”
“Turn the ship south!” Vomarian Fae bellowed. “Set course for the Storm Crags.”