Chapter 1 - Summer

Looking at possible bottlenecks, Sans spots a large stack of heavy barrels resting on their sides tied with a rope.

Now those would make quite an obstacle, were they to accidentally roll towards the guards... he thinks.

Without thinking twice, he springs into action, unsheathing the Judge, his trusted rapier. He climbs and leaps towards the top of the stack of barrels, his gold cloak fluttering behind him like the wings of a crazed butterfly!
Once at the top, he will sever the rope with a firm slash of his rapier.

"Ha! I knew this would come in handy!" Issac shouts to no one in particular, as he hastily grabs the bottle of remaining liquor he took from the inn, stuffs some cloth in the bottle's opening, and lights it. He ponders throwing it at the guards but brushes that thought away and looks for a spot on the staircase that would catch quickest, hoping to cause a blockade of fire and smoke.

Round 1 Summary ~
Shoppers and merchants are shoved aside by the on foot cavalry guards. They swarm the air-dock, some taking knees and shooting up at the escaping Musketeers, and some chasing up the stairs with swords drawn.

A clump of guards are stopped in their tracks as the landing they've just hit BURSTs in to flames following the crash of a bottle.

The leading guard ignites and with an "AAAAaaaaaHHH!" pitches over the rail to the ground below.

"Push through it fools!" he cries as he bravely leads the flames...

...only to have a barrel smash into his knees toppling him over.

"Do NOT let them get awa--!"

His shout is cut off as on of the sacks of cornmeal Aloy's slashed falls on his shoulder taking him to the deck.






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Round Two 3/7 Success ~The guardsmen continue to pour up the switchback, though impeded by the burning, falling, and rolling debris! Still...they are determined and are climbing the stairs like ants disturbed from their hill.

"Cast off lads! Time to be in the air!" Shouts the captain as his boots hit the deck and he hurries toward the wheel at the steer.

Isaac's eyes widen as the lead guard catches aflame and goes overboard. "My error!" he shouts down at their pursuers.

Seeing the guards persistence, he thinks for a moment, we need to take the whole blasted thing down. He does a quick survey of the how the dock is tied to the ship, and grins almost madly when the idea comes to him, that'll do it.

"Lads and lassies!" yelling to make sure all his companions hear him, "Hold on tightly, lest ye meet the Clockmaker!". He pulls out his rapier, curls his forearm tightly against one of the ropes anchoring the dock to the ship, and cuts that same rope, hoping to at least unbalance the staircase or at worst cause the whole thing to come crashing down!

spoilers

Sans reaches the deck of the airship and looks down at the remaining pursuers.

Damn it, these guys are not giving up. They must really fear their superiors' punishment... Maybe I can exploit that...

He leans down and bellows in their direction at the top of his lungs.
"Is that the best the famous Queen's Guards can do? And is their honour so cheap, that any Traitor can buy it for a handful of coins?! Your employer better pay you VERY well, traitors, as I'm sure the Queen will spare no expense to get you lot hanged from her battlements!! "

The NOW Rickety Staircase ~
Issac, as you cut the ship free from its mooring you cause its release to go too fast thus setting the air-dock to sway dangerously!

The timber groans and ropes creak.

Sans, your taunt of discouragement stops the guards cold... several quizzical looks shared between the guards speaks to many of them, perhaps, being in the dark as to what is actually happening here.

Climbing back to his feet, "Don't listen to him! Climb you fools!"

But it's too late as their hesitation gave Issac the time needed to cut the last few lines needed to cause the stair to lean dangerously out into space.

"Climb aboard! Fast!" The captain calls out to the Gold Cloaks!

Aloys was a proper thief, scaling the sides of buildings and running amok in the alleyways of towns. Snagging a rope, he jumps off and kicks the unsteady stairway, aiming to give those stairs the last bit of encouragement to go toppling downwards. The momentum carries him to the netting of the airship where he grabs hold, laughing wildly all the while.

"Let it be known that this isn't the last of us! Whoever pulls your strings, this unseen mastermind, will be knocked down. We are the Goldcloaks, the true agents of the Queen, and we fear no man, no woman, no death!"

Swashbuckling at the Air-Dock ~
After Aloys boots hit the stair and he swings off, a groan like no groan heard before fills the afternoon.

The folk of the market who had stopped to watch the remarkable scene shake out of their stupor and run clear, more in excitement than fear.

With a crash the air-dock slams to the grass, toppling cavalry guards every which way.

The Cavalry Officer shakes his fist at the airship as it pulls away off in to the sky.









The wind blows, the sails flutter, and the ropes creak. The River and the grass below you begin to move at incredible speed.



The captain pops his pipe in his mouth and stomps across the deck toward the party.

"Well Royal Musketeers, welcome aboard the Golden Fortune--a fortuitous name, eh?"

Flying Through the Skies of the Royal Duchy ~
The Golden Fortune speeds north and west over the heartland grasses, distance peaks afire with sunlight. Farms, fields, villages slide by. The sails flap, the ropes creak, and the tidal engine hums with an otherworldly sound.



The watch has just been called, and crew members crowd the galley chatting loudly while eating from tin plates. The majority of the crew has treated the excitement at the air-dock, and the new passengers with a surprising amount of ambivalence.

Where do we see our heroes, now that we are several hours out from the air-dock.

Sans queues for the meal distribution, joining the back of the line to give the crew priority. The looks he and his companions are receiving from crewmen suggest to keep a low profile to avoid unpleasant situations. Their capes - and the recognition of the Captain - tag them as personages of import, yet... their boarding was not exactly official, and after all the Queen's Guard were after them.

These people must think we have fallen from grace, they might not believe in the narrative that we are the loyal ones, and the Guard are the traitors... he thinks. Then again, our beloved Queen Isbel is not their queen, and they might not care.

Once he gets his tin plate with a portion of the chow on offer, he looks for a quiet spot to sit with his companions. He is relieved to see Mathis has received medical cares, and is now resting on a hammock on the deck.

The warm stew is chewy, but flavorsome. His mind is cast back to the Monastery of the Acolytes of the Clockmaker, that was his home in the long months of his convalescence..."You are one lucky bastard, Sans Visage, he thinks taking another spoonful of the crew meal. He thinks that every waking moment, nowadays.

Sitting beside the contemplative Sans is the young and short figure known as Aloys. The empty bowl of stew sits on the ground beside him, voraciously eaten as soon as he could. It was the mentality of a commoner and a thief that he couldn't break; time was precious and you wanted to eat as quickly as you could so you could get whatever seconds were left. With a cleaning cloth in hand, he takes the time to clean his blade of the blood, wear, and tear that had collected upon it while his mind wanders over their current predicament.

"Back to the gutter again, it seems, friend." Aloys thinks softly to himself. He had been a pickpocket and a burglar before he was brought into the service to the Queen, a starving man who tired of playing by society's rules where the weak and unprivileged starved while the powerful ate themselves to an early grave. When he was brought into the most honorable of services, he realized he had a chance to help change things to a better. A more equal land, where men and women weren't forced to choose to starve and be honest or survive and become criminals. He would never have to see another mother starve so a child could eat, another noble pass by the wretched and not see them. It would take time, it would take patience, and the Clockmaker's good graces to change the world, but he had the chance to do so now.

"Now you just need to survive." The thought lingered in his head and a smirk spread across his face as he looked to his left. On the streets, he was alone and could not trust others. Within the ranks of the Goldcloaks, he had found brothers and sisters regardless of caste, service, or appearance. They had a purpose to change things to the better and he'd be damned if he would survive being a criminal just to be die being falsely claimed as one.

"So, my friends, what is our plan? We need to pool what we all know and make our choices from there. We'll need allies as well, if we can find them." Aloys said, frowning at the thought of it. Who knew how deep the poison was now spreading.

Golden Fortune's Galley | The Party ~
The clanks, thunks, and murmurs of the galley mask the party's conversation. You sit at your own, big scarred and stained table.

Her aristocratic sensibilities pushed, Elaine blushes slightly at Issac's comment. "Issac, please..."

Unaware of her friends distress, she changes the subject.

"I agree with Aloys. What do we know, and where do we go?"

She then reminds everyone of what she's learned or suspects.

One, Baron Regnard was part of a "fake" kidnapping scheme.
Two, the scheme was setup, in part, by Count Robert Dimont.
Three, there is a rebellious labour group involved.
And four, Capitaine Adélie Alarie has a stake in the game.

Mathis slurps his stew. "I still can't believe the Captain would do this... Why?!" He shakes his head, open to hear from the others.






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