Session 28 - All The Stars In The Sky

Ahem.
Previously, across the Horizon...
The Starfall remains docked in the Triad, its crew sleeping aboard, another day gone as they work on finding new leads for adventure and finance and direction and crew members.
Also docked at the Triad is the Seventh Dawn, the airship that nearly ran our heroes out of the sky on their way to Alterna, the airhsip that has some sort of power over the magical storms and raging powers that make the former capital of the Empire so inhospitable to thieves and scholars alike, the airship that was last seen flying away, the airship that was last heard to be involved in the rescue of Orrey's father (though for what side, they do not know), the airship that has one Cassiat Alyon aboard, though whether she is prisoner, passenger, or crew is yet unknown.
Also unknown - the whereabouts of one Orrey Alyon, who snuck off of the Starfall after night fell. At some point after he departed, Apocynthion Lunakreia Tolvani, the Third, also left.
The sun has not risen. The chocobos have not crowed (though really, they only do that when they haven't been fed yet). The restaurants are not open. The city has not yet awoken.
And yet, on those docks, four people disembark the Starfall in the predawn haze, off to find adventure, finance, direction, or at the very least, one to two of their missing crew members...
"We get him back, I'm going to nail him down until we leave port." Bast, adjusting things in his various pockets, doesn't seem inclined to be more specific about this plan.
Yves is present, in that the physical form of Yves Mrjwin is one of the four people on the dock, but Yves is just following wherever Isa leads while the rest of his brain catches up to the current hour.
Linnet isn't in particularly talkative shape either, but she's lined up behind Bast and Isa with a grim expression, a flask of Wake The Dead black tea, and a tight breeze swirling around her fist.
"Alright. Dockside taverns first, see if we get lucky."
"Who in the unholy hells is still in a tavern at this hour?"
The Seventh Dawn is a twenty minute walk east along the docks, with about forty ships and two turns separating the two airships. There are very few people out and about at this hour, though the occasional conversation is heard on the decks of ships you pass, people readying ships for sailing sea or sky, people stumbling down or up ramps, depending on if they're drunk or just tired.
Isa is on high alert as they make their way along the docks, her spear already in hand but held along her arm and down her side to make it less than immediately obvious. She looks behind them from time to time, and meets the tavern suggestion with a dubious grunt.
"Sailors come and go at all hours." Bast strides along the docks with intent. "Someone might've seen them, if nothing else."
"Fair enough."
A seagull lands on a post and looks enquiringly at Isa, in case she has some breakfast of which she should be relieved.
Isa has no breakfast, only grim purpose. The bird goes hungry.
(To Bast: The Daring Rescue crew always talked a bigger game than they backed up, and when you spot that ship as the fourteenth on your journey, you slow down a bit. Sure enough, two of their crew members are talking to each other as they check the rigging, and it's so quiet out here their voices carry. Two people were trying to stake out the big 'pointy ship' down the docks last night, one of them really bad at it, but the other -- 'blue-skinned boy' -- seemed pretty good. They just kept watching that ship, like they were casing it. When the crew here came out in the morning, they'd gone, but didn't look like there was any kind of a struggle, and no one heard anything in the night, so maybe they got bored and went home?)
Bast slows his pace down, gesturing for the rest of the party to follow suit, as faint conversation drifts over from one of the ships nearby. Shortly after, he speeds up again, not stopping until everyone is two ships farther down. "Sounds like they met up, waited around until the crew started stirring again in the morning, then left. No struggle, didn't get spotted. Where the hell are they?"
"They who?" Isa asks.
"Our two stragglers."
"Any sign of the sister?"
"...does Cass really count as 'ours', though?" Linnet's a little behind.
Bast shrugs. "They didn't mention her. Apparently amateurs casing a ship is more noteworthy."
"Shit."
The Seventh Dawn looms ahead, three ships down. Far more impressive (and clearly expensive) than the ships surrounding it, the smooth lines are broken up by the recent addition of a massive harpoon cannon attached to the bow. The cannon has a first coat of paint on it, softening the hard metal into the same silver as the rest of the Dawn, though the shine will come on the fourth or fifth coat.
"Well, that's suitably ominous," Linnet says.
"Big game hunting," Isa remarks.
Bast sets his jaw. "Let's try not to draw too much attention. Where do you suppose Orrey would hide?"
There are a few approaches to the Dawn, and you wonder if Orrey had these same observations last night. The larboard side has a closed loading hatch, for offloading cargo, and there are smaller entrances on either side of that. The deck itself is up too high to see on, though with no ramp down that would be harder to scale.
"Somewhere with decent light and a suitable angle for sketching, but ideally not right under a street light." Linnet pauses. "Oh, you're assuming he's on the Seventh Dawn?"
"Didn't sound like it - what I heard was that they watched it for most of the night, crew started getting off, they left. No word of them sneaking on or being brought in," Bast says.
"Some good news at least," Isa says, looking up at the ship. "Not excited about trying to break him out of there."
"mprh?" says Yves.
"With you on that one, buddy." Linnet proffers her flask of tea.
Yves has a swig, staring balefully at the harpoon.
Bast casts an exasperated look around the area. "Hell if I know. Linnet, you want to ask around if anyone's seen them?"
Linnet salutes and begins to jog off to talk to people, slowing to a walk after tripping over her feet twice.
Yves begins ambling away toward... a warehouse? Yeah, to some crates and big coils of wire over there. He's taking the flask of tea with him. "...art..." he says.
Bast, after taking a few moments to figure out what Yves is on about, follows.
Linnet does not have to try hard to find some sailors, as one bumps into her about ten seconds after she leaves the group. "Oh, terribly sorry!" he says, reaching out to steady her before realizing that would be rude. He's young, human, floppy red hair, freckles. "I didn't see you there."
Isa is a beat behind Bast, but instead vectors off to shadow Linnet, in order to ensure that every nerd has backup.
"No need to apologize, it's too late for sensible people to be out. Speaking of which, you haven't seen a young human man with a sketchbook or an ice sylph, have you? Some of our crew went a-wandering."
Yves sits down on a crate to drink tea. "...because of the lamp," he says.
Yves's warehouse spot bears fruit immediately, because if it wasn't a great spot for sketching, why would it have a charcoal pencil resting on top of one of the coils?
There is a vague wave made toward the charcoal.
"Captain's talking about nailing them to the deck, but most captains do that, right?"
Bast nods, impressed, and looks around for any signs of where they might have gone.
He scratches his chin. "I mean, our captain doesn't do that, but she's the best captain I've ever sailed for," he says, brimming with conviction and pep. "I did see a human and a sylph out late last night, but they were just talking. I didn't see a sketchbook. Ice sylph? Water, maybe? I don't want to offend, feels weird to just guess elements, right?" he laughs nervously.
"We do it among ourselves all the time, so don't worry about it. But your thoughtfulness speaks well of you." Linnet winks at him. "Best captain you've ever had, eh? What makes you say that?"
The pencil doesn't seem to have any clues wrapped around it, Bast notes, but it is pointing in a particular direction -- the line of ships, maybe two down from the Dawn.
"I mean, ours talks a pretty fierce game, but there's a heart of gold in there somewhere. You've got to have a certain...charisma before people start lining up to sail with you, I figure," Linnet continues. (Linnet is leaning casually against a stack of barrels, trying to look like she's out at 5am asking questions all the time.) "In addition to knowing which end of a harpoon goes forward, of course." (She lets her gaze wander obviously up to the Seventh Dawn's shiny new cannon.) "Oh, Captain Dural, she's just... gosh," he says, stars streaking across his eyes. "She's got this belief about her, like she's going to make the world a better place -- she's absolutely going to make it a better place, I mean, of course -- and we all just flock to her."
His eyes follow Linnet's. "Oh, yeah, that! Heckuva cannon, right?"
Yves stares at the charcoal as if he's trying to figure out whether or not it has caffeine inside.
"I only know harpoons from reading too many books, but don't you mostly use them on, like, whales? And other big animals? Can you really get a whale from as high up in the sky as we tend to be? Sorry, I'm rambling. I'm Linnet, by the way." She offers a friendly hand.
He shakes her hand vigorously. "Serge Herman. Seventh Dawn."
"Wow, you're on the ship with the giant whale cannon? My goodness." Linnet looks from Serge to the cannon and back to Serge. "I'm hoping you're not assigned to that thing solo. It looks like it'd take an entire squad just to fire it."
"Oh, it's not for whales, it's for --" he starts, before catching himself. "Oh, I really shouldn't be talking about this."
"Oh, that's okay, I'm mostly just boggled by the size of the thing. If your captain was male I'd be tempted to make an overcompensating joke, but now I'm just...wow." Linnet's expression turns slightly shy. "So...what's your idea of making the world a better place, Serge?"
He squares his shoulders. "Ensuring that no one can ever again dictate the future of mankind -- that's all people, not just humans, she says language hasn't evolved properly since Alterna fell -- and that no one can ever use fate, predetermination, or relics to control people ever again." There might as well be a flag of hope billowing behind him.
Yves has decided not to lick the charcoal pencil. So far. He has also finished off all the tea in that flask.
(Linnet has composed her face into Thoughtful Listening Pose #5 while attempting to formulate an eloquent response.)
"How do you feel about people saying the path of humanity is etched in the stars?" he asks, conversationally, as if that's a normal thing to say.
Bast keeps an ear open for any sign of trouble from Linnet as he leans against a coil of rope and pretends to be cleaning his nails, watching the direction the pencil was pointing.
"Hm? I feel like it's a quaint old-fashioned worldview that people like to fall back on when they don't want to change because change is hard." Linnet shifts her weight. "'Written in the stars' is an excellent line to shut down any more inquiring lines of conversation, because it's not like you can go ask the stars. Would I be right in guessing that Captain Dural doesn't have much truck with the idea, either?"
He bobs up and down on his feet, downright giddy with that response. "Oh, man, you'd love her! I can introduce you, you know. She's always up this early. We have room for more crew! I-I mean--" he gets very, very sheepish. "Oh, I don't mean to try to poach you away from your current ship, that's not what I meant to do at all..."
"Serge, I would be honored to accept your invitation, if I could also take a bit of time to think over your bigger offer. Among other things, I didn't bring all my stuff with me at five a.m." She grins at him.
"Oh, of course! Do you want me to arrange a meeting -- I mean -- when do you want to meet the Captain?"
"Well, do you know when you're planning on leaving? Or at least, when you're supposed to be back aboard and not down on the dock chatting with night owl sylphs?"
"I don't know the itinerary, no. But sooner rather than later. And I should really be back up there soon, my brothers need my help getting the next coat on."
(This exchange is liberally seasoned with disarming smiles, the occasional wink, and strategic uses of brushing hair out of eyes.)
(It's working GREAT)
"Totally fair. Would two hours from now be an acceptable time? I'm normally on galley crew and I left a pan of biscuits in the oven. Our errant crew member might have wandered back when he smelled them."
"Sure! Back here?"
"Sounds like a plan! Meet you in a bit." Linnet watches him head up the dock and waves cheerily, moving out of sight and back toward Yves once Serge's curls are no longer visible.
Serge does a third-shake/third-bow/third-dopey-grin and then bounds away.
Linnet urgently reconvenes the party out of all apparent sight lines of the deck of the Seventh Dawn. "So, that was odd, but apparently I'm meeting their captain in two hours. Bast, you have ninety minutes to come up with a list of observations you'd like me to attempt, and possible questions to get answered by someone. Given the chance, I might actually dash back to the ship and make some quick biscuits as leverage."
"...will they be tea biscuits," Yves says.
"Bast, Isa, I'm also going to need you two to come up with an ironclad story for me if you don't want me using the name of our actual ship. Don't worry, Yves, I'll leave plenty for the crew."
"Have they seen Orrey, what's the situation with Cassiat, and who the fuck do they plan to use that harpoon on," Isa says.
"So what's your angle with their captain?" Bast asks.
"Mine? I'm planning to play up the wide-eyed curiosity as much as I can, without actually promising to join their crew. See if this Captain Dural has a cult of personality or if Serge was just particularly susceptible to dogma. Cass is young, she might well have been sucked in by a bullshit line like 'never control the destiny of mankind' or whatever it was." "Hm. What if you run into her?" Bast asks.
"I'll think of something. I'm tossing around several somethings, just gotta narrow it down."
Bast frowns. "Alright, probably worth a shot. You're not going back to the Starfall alone, and all of us wandering back and forth together would probably attract too much attention. What do you think you might need?"
"Almost everything I can think of, we don't actually have. I've got a few spells to hand, though, maybe we can make use of them in a pinch. Oh, and the biscuits would be a good cover story. Food is an important social lubricant."
"There should be a... uh...." Yves tries to think of words. "....signal. In case you need us to come in and get you or something. Especially if they can do mind control or something? Not sure if that's a thing? But lately..."
"Sure, but it would look odd that your old ship let you wander off with a sack of its food, no?" Bast says.
"Not if I leave plenty for the crew. Trust me on this one."
"And is there even time to cook those and get there and back?"
"There will be. That's part of why I left us two hours. Lightning is an emergency flare, ice is 'stay away, things are developing and I don't think your presence would help,' and if you haven't seen me in six hours, start formulating Plan Epsilon. Got it?"
"Shards and fire", Bast mutters under his breath. "Isa? Yves? Got any better ideas?"
"Plan Epsilon is when I go in and hurt people until you're safe?" Isa asks.
"You all figure out Plan Epsilon without me so I have plausible deniability," Linnet says.
Isa nods. Looks at Bast. "Plan Epsilon is when I go in and hurt people until they're safe."
"...this is not plausible deniability." Linnet sighs. "Right, who's coming back to the Starfall with me, if I'm not supposed to go alone?"
"I like Plan Epsilon," Yves says.
"We found a pencil that I'm fairly sure Orrey left behind, so we've got a good guess on where they were watching from, but it looks like that'll wait. Alright, everyone, back to the ship for some strategic cooking," Bast says.
Isa checks around her. "I'm going to find a place here in case Orrey comes back."
"I'm going back to the ship. Need...." Yves waits, and waits, and waits, and waits, and finishes, "..........coffee."
Linnet swipes her flask back from Yves. "I'll bring a second one next time we're out this early."
Bast eyes Isa. "You sure about this? I'd rather not split up any more than we have to."
"Said we'd attract too much attention if we keep shuttling back and forth as a group, and is there someone you'd feel better about leaving here alone?"
"Nope. Keep an eye on the ship, then." Bast motions for Yves and Linnet to follow, and starts walking away.
Isa nods, and begins scouting for somewhere that will give her a) a view of the Seventh Dawn and b) breakfast.
Bast keeps up an undervoiced conversation with Linnet on the way back: "...number of decks, any weapons you can spot, ammunition on deck, estimate of the crew..."
Kupowned, run by a moogle with the largest mustache you've ever seen, prides itself on games of chance and hearty meals that leave nothing to chance. The tables are painted to look like blackjack tables, and every meal has a name like a hand in cards. There's a window with a good view of the Dawn plus the approach from the west.
Isa settles in with a mug of coffee and the Gutshot Straight, which seems to be a bagel, cut in half, and griddled in bacon grease with an egg cracked into the middle of each half.
Two hours later, Serge and his brothers -- all older than him, introduced as Sims, Steward, and Stan -- welcome Linnet onto the deck of the Seventh Dawn, where the smell of fresh paint is strong, the breeze is chilly, and the tension is thick. "Do you want to come inside, or have her meet you out here?" Serge asks.
(Linnet bears a wide-eyed expression of amazement and a string bag full of fresh, piping hot biscuits.)
Yves has skulked into the same place as Isa, now much, much more caffeinated than before. Because it looks like a good place to get /even more/ coffee, that's why.
"I mean, if you're comfortable taking me inside, the captain would probably be more comfortable in her own quarters, right? Plus, thanks to your glistening handiwork," she nods at the cannon, looking sheepish, "the paint fumes are awfully thick out here." "...this is only the second airship I've ever been on, so please forgive any seemingly ignorant questions. I'm learning as I go."
Stan and Steward slide surly stares to Serge. Serge sighs and smiles sheepishly.
Linnet continues gazing around the deck, tilting her head back to squint up the masts. "I can't see the top! I mean, I assume there are people up there somewhere, but they're so high you might as well be sailing in the stars!" (deploy Honest Naive Curiosity) "That's the idea!" Serge says, and then grunts as Steward accidentally walks into him.
"Come on inside," Stan says, sliding the door open for Linnet.
Linnet tears her eyes from the sky just in time to avoid walking into a doorframe. "Thank you!"
Bast eyes the rope coils and barrels on the docks, then reluctantly follows Yves inside, picking a barstool with a view of the street and taking his time over a Rosy Flush.
"Really, you guys should eat these while they're hot. Share 'em around, too. Any day is easier to face with some good hot breakfast in your belly." She passes the bag to Sims and smiles shyly.
The interior of the Seventh Dawn is very different from the Starfall -- plush and comfortable, with tapestries hung on the walls, flags decorating some doors in the hallway. The Cardian flag on one, the Saron flag on another. There are little whiteboards by most of the doors, messages scribbled on them, words of encouragement or light razzing, most every room having its own flair.
Linnet passes through a room that would look like a great meeting room -- four couches, bookshelves, a chandelier, a record player with some chill beats to relax and study to -- but the four brothers do not stop there.
(Linnet allows herself to be a tiny bit sidetracked by the bookshelves, but she follows along willingly when they are passed over.)
Instead, they go to a large white door, and then pull it open, showing a very large, very sparsely-decorated room, chairs along the outer edges of the room, and the walls covered with display cases built into the walls, arranged in uniform grids, each of them unlit. "The Captain will be right down," Sims says, accepting the bag. "Coffee? Tea?"
"I don't mean to impose, but tea would be wonderful if you're already making some. Thank you, Sims." (Linnet very quickly committed to memory the names of the four brothers.)
He bows with a polite smile, and then they leave, Serge tossing one last hopeful smile back Linnet's way. Linnet is then left alone in a very large, very empty room.
Linnet is then left alone in a very large, very empty room.
She immediately scrutinizes everything she can see of the display cases.
The display cases are full of magic. There is magic coursing through this entire room, concentrated in the cases, evenly. A pressure turned inward on themselves, as if holding things in place.
(Her hands are fidgeting with the strap of her satchel, to give her something to do.) (Linnet has not worn her sword.)
The door opens with a sudden creak, but it's just Sims returning with a mug of lemon tea. He hasn't been gone more than a minute when it opens again. The woman that enters is human, somewhere in her mid-fifties, dark skin and even darker hair in long braids, though the roots are going gray. She's dressed comfortably, in tan slacks, a navy blue argyle sweater, and well-made walking shoes. A pair of glasses dangle around her neck. "You must be Linnet," she says in a very professorial tone. (Outside, the four brothers emerge back onto the deck and resume painting the harpoon cannon, three of them razzing the fourth)
"I am, and you must be Captain Dural. Thank you very much for the invitation...or if it was more a matter of accepting Serge's suggestion, thank you for that as well." Linnet sets down her tea and stands, a bit unsure of the etiquette here. (deploy slightly wry expression "Boys Are The Same Everywhere, Right?")
Dural smiles warmly, and offers a hand. "Serge tells me you're interested in joining the Seventh Dawn," she says, sitting down in one of the chairs and crossing her legs. "I think he told you a little bit about what we believe, but not necessarily what we do."
"Serge certainly seems to believe very strongly in your mission, and of course he knows better than to disclose too many details to a random girl he met on the docks. But what he did tell me certainly piqued my interest."
She nods along. "Tell me, Linnet. Are you a student of history?"
"I am, yes. With a focus on the history of magic, but it interweaves so thoroughly with everything around it that I'd say I'm fairly well grounded in most aspects of history." Linnet has taken her seat again and positioned her satchel on her lap.
"I am, too. Technically I am a professor of history -- a doctor, a title I'll admit I prefer over captain, but the sailors have different opinions than my students do -- but history is not just a matter for the past. What we learn in the past dictates our future. Or, more correctly, it helps us shape our own future." She pauses. "What do you know of the Great Crystal, Linnet?"
"...that's almost as broad as asking what I know of magic in general, Doctor. I know it was responsible for every aspect of life in Alterna, I know it shattered the existing social structure when it broke, and I know we'd have considerable trouble ever reinstituting anything like the systems that were built around it."
"And yet, there are people who are dead set -- and I do not use that expression lightly -- on doing that very thing."
"And I'm fairly certain that our current Job Crystals are related in some fashion, but I know that even the foremost scholars in the field have little more than theoretical arguments as to why. ...and you're implying the existence of people - meaning a substantial group of people, because this wouldn't be noteworthy if it was just a handful - willing to kill to place society back on a footing determined by a great sparkly omen that no longer exists." Linnet takes another sip of her tea and does not hide her "what the hell" eyebrows.
"My focus has always been on the Crystal, Linnet. I devoted my life to it. Abandoned all aspects of normalcy to better learn its truths, its secrets, its mysteries. When I prepared my thesis I thought I knew everything there was to know. When I officially gained the right to call myself Doctor Celadon Isara Dural, I stood in front of my peers and listened to their applause and knew that they were cheering lies."
"That's an awfully harsh assessment of your entire career, Doctor."
"An accurate one. In between finishing my thesis and receiving my title, I learned everything I had based my argument around was false."
Linnet takes a sip of her tea while her Active Listening Face settles in.
"Alterna used the Great Crystal to dictate the lives of the people under them, that much is plainly true. The actual powers of the Crystal itself, though, those have never been clear. What we have now is a pale imitation. What we have now is just a shadow of that incredible power. Fragments. "Fragments of stars."
"...are you saying the Great Crystal was a star?"
"Alterna captured constellations and imprisoned stars to create the Great Crystal. The Great Crystal was an abomination of chained souls, their lives used to enslave the people across the range of the Empire."
"...I have many questions and I'm not even sure where to start, but please, go on. You'll most likely answer many of them before I can think to ask."
"When the Crystal shattered, it returned those stars to the skies, it restored the balance of Ducorde, and it freed the people, Linnet. It freed the people from slaving under that yoke. We could cast about for our own futures. We could determine our own lot in life. For the first time!" She turns, that passion written across her face. "Four hundred years ago I would have been born a farmer, and a farmer would be all I ever could be. There was no choice. There was nothing but the stars, dictating a future that only the powerful could avoid. I never could have had goals. I never could have had dreams."
"And now you have not only a doctorate but an airship," Linnet marvels.
"And a means to secure the future, Linnet." She stands up. "The stars that made up the Great Crystal are falling, Linnet. Something here -- someone here -- is calling them back. Someone is trying to restore the Great Crystal. Someone is trying to enslave all the people of Ducorde again. It is up to me -- and I hope to us to stop them, and return the stars to the sky."
She snaps her fingers.
Six lights come on.
Six lights in the display cases.
Six lights on six masks in the display cases.
A beaked mask, extending into ridges of red fur or feathers along the edges, a broken earring dangling down on the left side.
An iron mask, almost a helmet beheaded, a weight to it that makes you think that there could almost be a head inside.
Purple ceramic connected by rough pink stitching, a bulbous, almost sac-like object.
A small mask, a perfect replica of a tiny genderless human face, pupiless eyes, lips slightly parted, bone white at the top, fading into orange at the bottom.
A small mask, a perfect replica of a tiny genderless human face, pupiless eyes, lips slightly parted, bone white at the top, fading into midnight blue at the bottom.
A mask that is just a wide, open mouth, significantly taller than it is wide, the open mouth painted like a gaping maw to nothingness.
Linnet gasps audibly and cranes her neck to take it all in, without leaving her seat.
"These are souls that were used to enslave and imprison. To control and to bend. To further enrich the powerful and ensure the poor and destitute knew their rightful place at the heels of their masters. These are the weapons of a sinister age, drawn again by a foe unseen. It is our task to see these weapons undone, our duty to see our people remain free, and our calling to see the constellations restored and the stars returned to the sky, so they can no longer plague Ducorde and create a new Age of Imprisonment." Doctor Celadon Isara Dural looks Linnet square in the eyes. "Join the Rising Stars, Linnet, and see to the future of Ducorde. See a new dawn for all of our people, for now, and forever."
"...I have more questions, Doctor Dural."
"Please." She smiles. "Doctor Cid."

End Session.