[Interest Check]Seasons of Tempest and Mirth

Oril climbed up the cracked hull of the colossal airship. He had found the ruin while wandering the grimy Wastes of Khist-Nolmriah looking for the ancient hidden treasures scattered throughout. This one, though, was a surprise. It was ... fresh, not ancient.

Giant letters came into view as he crested the curved hull, The Spirit of Leviathan. The young man, who hadn't yet fully grown out of his teenage body, almost fell in shock of the ship's name. It was the largest airship ever built, only just completed in the famed shipyards of his home town, Sellean, an outpost supporting the wood milling and airship industry a weeks journey to the North. The forests of northern Khist-Nolmriah were a wild and dangerous place, but the silkwood timber harvested from there was essential for airship construction. He'd worked in those mills most of his life, just like his father. But unlike his father, he knew he was destined for greater things. He often took leave of the mills to venture into the vast wastes to the south hoping to find treasure that could fund a new life, travel to the great cities, find new experiences and escape from the hard manual labor and saw dust of the giant mills.

Oril ran his hand along the side of the ship. No doubt, some of the wood in Leviathan had been milled by his own hands. He loved the craft of creating from wood, but he wanted to do it on his own terms, his own projects, but that was not possible in Sellean, which was ruled by the two largest merchant companies in the World, Amez and Sons (A&S) and The Maltaph Coast Company (MCC).The Spirit of Leviathan had been completed a few months ago and had been expected to set out on its maiden voyage shortly after Oril had left Sellean on his current trip into the Wastes. And yet, here it was ...

Oril pulled himself up and over the railing that lined the main deck, which slanted downwards at a steep angle towards the fractured and smashed destruction that was the rest of the ship far below. This section of the ship was still somewhat intact. Leviathan was not a battleship, it was a luxury passenger vessel sponsored by one of the Kings of Llorinth to encourage travel between the Seven Kingdoms and the Quailing Heights, and yet there was evidence of a fight, arrows embedded in the deck, bodies impaled with weapons, scorch marks that Oril couldn't explain, but there was no signs of anyone living.

There had been controversy about the construction of the ship. The rest of the King's fleet had been built by MCC, but MCC had refused to build a ship as large as The Spirit of Leviathan, so the King convinced A&S to build it instead. MCC and A&S had worked as partners for decades forming a pseudo-monopoly that dominated world trade, but the Leviathan contract had fractured the relationship and put the merchants on the brink of a civil war. Oril wondered if that tension, which had been building for the last year or so, finally snapped.

Making it carefully to an entrance that led below deck, Oril opened the door and yelled, "Hello! Is anyone here?" There was no reply or evidence of activity below. He slowly descended into the bowels of the ship.Most of the ship was still empty. It was to be furnished upon arrival in Llorinth, however, one room was jammed full of exquisite provisions and decor. Rumor had said that the King's son, Prince Bedon, a child of only 10 years, would travel to Sellean, accompanied by a royal retinue and guardians, in order to ride with The Spirit of Leviathan on its first trip back to Llorinth. This must have been his room, but no one was here now, the content were strewn about, a mess from the crash. But one object caught Oril's eye, a stringless mandolin with emerald inlay. When Oril picked it up he was immediately overcome by a vision:

A prince stood in that same room, practicing the mandolin. It must have been before the crash because all its contents were upright and orderly. By the door, a woman with red hair stood guard, a Knight of the Feathers, her colorful companion perched nearby.

The door opened and a figure dressed all in black stepped inside. He pulled out the most ornate pocket watch Oril had ever seen. After checking it, the figure nodded to the Knight, who returned the gesture and turned to the Prince, "Alright Bedon, we must go. You must leave your things," she said as she took the mandolin from the child. "What? Why?" Bedon looked confused, began to argue and grabbed for the instrument, but only succeeded in grabbing the strings, which ripped off as the the Knight tore it away and tossed it onto the bed.

Suddenly, the ship jarred to the side as though from some sort of impact. A bell began to toll. The muted buzz of commotion and fear.

"Quickly! It's already begun!" The dark figure urged. The Knight picked up the prince, who had been knocked to the ground and gone quiet with shock and concerned on his face. "Are you sure this will work?" the knight asked as she followed the figure out the door. "No, but it's too late. It's our only chance now. We must get him off the ship and to Micester before ..." and they were gone.

Before the vision faded, Oril's mind spun and conjured what he recalled from rumors about the city of Micester, a dark city with tall towers, shroud in mist ...Oril strapped the mandolin to his pack and climbed back out of the massive wreckage and began his journey back home to Sellean.

Belief:
The information from his vision was very valuable. If he could get it to the King, along with the mandolin as proof, he would be well rewarded.

Apologies @Verrain, I'm going to have to withdraw from the game.

Thanks for checking in Dunder!

I am so into this idea but have no idea where to start. Suggestions?

Greetings, Valdus!
I have a full crew at the moment, but one can never know. Would you be interested in rolling on the Oracle, just in case we get an opening?
The next step would be to roll on that Oracle 3 or 4 times to get inspirational elements.

Have we a numbered oracle?

Yep. At the very top of the game advert behind a spoiler tag.

Rolling them bones...
Roll 1
d6 : (1) = 1
d6 : (4) = 4 Where the navigators purchase their specialized equipment.

Roll 2
d6 : (2) = 2
d6 : (5) = 5 The hidden ledger of a merchant-thief.

Roll 3
d6 : (1) = 1
d6 : (3) = 3 A library next to a confectioner's shop

Chabon's life, always surrounded by the books amassed at the library next door, gave him an awareness of serpentine powers that pointed men and monsters toward the cardinal points.

The knowledge gave him a sailor's life, always with a promise of Captain lingering just beyond the next horizon. Just in a beyond over there.

It was an advantage no doubt, one that men hated.

MOVE
When confronted with a directional choice, of which way to go, the fates whisper in your ear. Use your wisdom bonus to roll on the result.

BELIEF
Chabon senses there is a destiny, a reason for his life and abilities somewhere, out there.

This is really cool.
I'll put you on the waiting list. Thanks for contributing.

Meantime, I will gladly lurk. Is there a link to the main thread? I won’t post, just drool.

See if this one works. https://gamersplane.com/forums/9616/