A Rather Odd Shovel [Judge: Bront]

Keldar wakes up with the sunrise. "Need more sleep," he complains to the crewmen on duty, yawning. "I'm sure I'd be a completely different man after a whole night of uninterrupted rest. Or - good morning, Rapture - something softer than the butt of the mast to lie against."

When not casting apparently keen glances across the lake in search of danger, Keldar goes through the pile of gear stripped from the pirates.

"These two were her blades," he says. "Very pretty. The swords, I mean. This one handles almost as easily as a dagger. Perhaps I'll hang onto it for a while." He straps the short sword to his side.

"And this is at least the equal of my own rapier... though don't let Tarag know I said so. Like the ship, it might be happier with a new owner. But it's not the Warbray rapier. What was it Tarag said? 'Be as one with it, arm, mind and spirit - 192 gold, thanks.' Dwarves! Poets one moment, businessmen the next."

Keldar sits with a rapier in each hand, points touching the deck. "She - well, I suppose she was pretty too." He glances at Rapture. "Though not as pretty as you, of course. And rotten to the core. Deranged, in the end. How do you suppose she ended up like that? Perhaps her men know her story. We should make sure we're there whenever they're untied to be fed and watered, in case of trouble, escape attempts, and the like. I confess I fell asleep without knowing on which boat everyone ended up."

Tommy wanders onto the deck, a vaguely humanoid figure in his arms. "Keldar, take a look at this!" he beams. He sets the figure gently on the deck, balancing precariously on its rigid legs. He manipulates something in the back, and the figure, face frozen in a hideous rictus, takes two awkward steps forward before the boat dips its nose into a ripple in the water, pitching the poor thing over on its side. Its legs continue to twitch uselessly, all the while making a low grinding, moaning sort of noise. From its back protrudes a metal rod with two opposed flanges, looking like an apprentice's awkward first attempts at a crossbow bolt.

"It's like a homunculus, only it's entirely done with clockwork! No magic whatsoever!" Tommy laughs delightedly. "These gnomish toys are amazing! Come on, you've got to try this."

Keldar brightens. "That thing is both fascinating and extremely creepy. Put it back on its feet before it starts crying! It's like the things Thyrin was making, except not in bits and pieces. A gnomunculus, you say! I wonder what they're for. Are there more of them? We should get another one and we can make them fight each other. Silver piece to whoever's one wins. Maybe we could stick a dagger on -"

Keldar breaks off. "Oh no. That must be their plan." He whispers. "The gnomes. We're all going about our lives, then suddenly, from out of the hills and from beneath our feet - swarms of dagger-wielding gnomunculususes. Whirr, click, whirr, click, stab, stab, stab. Tiny clattering unstoppable metal killers."

"Still, forewarned is forearmed! We'll be ready when they come. Don't let Fimble know that you know!"

Keldar nods solemnly.

"I think you mean 'gnomunculi'," Fimble absentmindedly remarks as he fiddles with the machines.

---

The remainder of the voyage is uneventful. On the last day, the Kithsul grows narrower as the coasts on either side of you come into sight simultaneously. Soon there is only about a mile of distance between the coasts. Instead of a serene bay, you see a torrent of mist and geysers where water should be. Amidst the mist, you can make out the masts of several ghostly ships. Coming closer now, it becomes clear that the Kithsul abruptly ends in a massive waterfall which spills down into a massive thousand-foot-deep, mile-wide chasm.

On this end of the chasm, ships wait at the base and the source of the waterfall. One suddenly comes into view riding on the back of a massive geyser. Propelled by the water, it rises slowly, steadily, and then surges forward off of the geyser and lands with a splash atop the waterfall. A strong, unnatural current pulls it away from the ravine and towards you.

The captain of the ship salutes as you pass, but raises an eyebrow at your new captains and the ship in tow. Together, the Diligenza and the Warbray approach the waterfall. The crew on the fore ship loosens the tow line, and control of your vessels is taken over by a magical current in the lake water. Each ship is moved into a short line of vessels waiting for a free geyser. It's not too long before the Diligenza takes the plunge. Then the Warbray is pulled over the edge of the waterfall onto a waiting water column.

On the slow descent, you get a magnificent view of the incredible city. In the late afternoon sun, dazzling rays of light reflect off of the slender, elegantly carved, impossibly long, quartz and marble bridges that span the length of the chasm, casting a spider web of shadows on the far chasm face. The bridges connect the higher levels of the city walls, which hold decadent mansions carved of the same material as the bridges.

The walls extend some one hundred and eleven floors to the bottom of the ravine, each level with its own distinctive architectural style, and often times of varying heights, all hewn from the rocky chasm face. A few levels look like they were made for creatures the height of a halfling, one level looks like it could easily hold a giant. Some levels are blank with only windows, others have handrails, and some are simply open to the pit.

At the bottom of the pit spans what seems to be an entirely separate city. The sun, having almost reached the horizon, does not illuminate the chasm floor. On the far end of the chasm, wooden homes and shops line the dark, lantern lit streets. In one corner of the city, towers can be distinguished through their long, vertical patterns of lights. In another part of the city, a single, massive building stands, dominating the area, its many halls giving it a star-like shape. Furthest from you, the ravine narrows and descends into absolute darkness.

On this end, the waterfall crashes down into a large pool of water. Moored at the docks are several ships, none are lined up to leave on a geyser at this hour.

Both ships are gently rested upon the surface of the chasm pool and are pulled forward by another current. As you come closer to the docks, you see workers hurrying to finish unloading the new arrivals. The workers are of all shapes and sizes; a dwarf directs one crew of goblins and kobolds while an ogre does some heavy lifting with the assistance of some men.

The captain of the Diligenza begins barking orders to the crew, and both ships are moored in short order. A Fallonese official, accompanied by a young half-elven girl holding a lantern, come by to have a talk with the new captains.

OOG: I'll pause here, to catch my breath, allow for interjections, and to say thanks for waiting. I'm back!

OOC: Welcome back I'll have an updated Rapture posted shortly. It's been a nutso week and next 2 months will be nuts as well.

"Wow," Tommy observes astutely as the ship majestically descends on the plume of water. His eyes are shining. "That.... that is some serious magic. Can you imagine the kind of thaumaturgical support that these waterspouts must take? And to make it permanent... Wow. I wonder if they have information on the spell's construction in the library at the wizard's college here? I shall have to inquire."

"A Warbray takes these things in his stride," says Keldar, twice, watching over the rail throughout the descent with saucer eyes.

"See here, officials approach. Now, what do we have to tell them? We have eight sullen pirate prisoners, and three dead pirates miraculously kept from noisome decay through Tarag's prayers, for which I shall long be grateful, and perhaps therefore eleven bounties to collect, and a hold full of stolen goods to be returned to their rightful owners (except, of course, the dangerous gnomunculusies, which need to be impounded by the authorities). And of course we need to file ownership papers for the fine ship Spirit of Warbrayvia."

Keldar ties back his hair, which has been getting rather long, with a ribbon. "There, do I look every inch the dashing captain?"

OOC: please say you cast Gentle Repose on the dead'uns, Tarag!

OOC: Just to soothe Keldar's tender sensibilities Tarag, at 4th level (when I eventually get around to levelling him) will cast Gentle Repose. That'll be four days of arrested deterioration.

"Looks like the Floating Warbray was good enough for now." Rapture notes as they decend on a water column. "This is grander than I could have ever imagined."

"I don't think anyone has ever before followed 'Warbray' with the words 'good enough for now'," says Keldar.