You have spent your life slipping through the cracks—dodging chores, outrunning expectations, and floating straight past maturity. That is, until a wrecked airship falls straight out of the heavens and into your path.
With its hull tangled in the branches of an ancient oak, the ship is a mystery waiting to be unraveled. And you? You've never been one to ignore a good mystery. But what starts as simple curiosity quickly spirals into something far greater. Something with far reaching consequences. Something that might just tie you to the very thing you've spent your life avoiding: responsibility.
The world around you sways in time to a gentle breeze. A breeze that whispers through the canopy, and ruffles at your hair with the salty scent of a far-distant sea. Rays of sunlight shine down through the thick foliage and paint a dappled pattern across you, warm against the thin fur of your ears.
It's a perfect day. But then any day you could dodge the long list of chores waiting for you was a good day. What made this perfect was the satchel hanging on a nearby branch with a trio of Ma's veggie pies shoved carelessly inside it.
With lunch in hand, your escape from the tyranny of work would last all day. Going back home when night fell? A problem for future-you. For now, you were going to luxuriate in the lazy warmth surrounding you and the satisfaction of having dodged yet another boring, chore-filled day.
Back in town, someone, somewhere, was doubtless already shouting out your name—most likely, your ma frustrated that she'd been defeated, once again, by your sticky fingers and stealthy getaway. Or maybe it was that grumpy elder, the one who always smelled like vinegar who thought just because you were a bunny-girl—technically, according to the books Ma made you read, a lapis-beastkin—you could run as fast as the wind. As if you had nothing better to do than run messages all over town. Or maybe it was that crazy tinker, forever seeking an extra pair of hands for his rusting contraptions—which could be fun sometimes, but only when it was raining too hard to laze around and watch th clouds.
A lazy grin flickers across your face and refuses to budge. Whoever it was, they wouldn't find you. Not today. Not nestled high in the branches of a massive tree. Hidden from the ground below by a thick tangle of rustling leaves, like a rabbit waiting to pounce.
You stretch idly, arms folding behind your head, and lean back into the rough bark pressing into you. The view above you is a patchwork of emerald leaves and azure sky, shifting lazily in the wind.
Perfect.
You let yourself drift, half-lidded eyes tracking the lazy waltz of the clouds, a little envious of how freely they roam. No responsibilities. No expectations. Just the wind and the weightless promise of another untethered afternoon.
Unfortunately, all lazy days must eventually end. And so does yours, not with an angry shout of your name from someone who had found your secret hiding place, but with a whisper.
The air shifts subtly, so subtly that even your ears wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't spent the past hour in perfect idleness. But in the stillness of the world around you, it feels like a stone caught between your sock and shoe. Or a single piece of thread that had come loose from your collar and was tickling your neck.
You perk upright, Brambleburrow was safe, an isolated island floating deep within the Concord's skies, but that didn't mean there couldn't be trouble. Winds below, it hadn't even been a year since the Peacekeepers dragged that fugitive out from a cave hidden on the lee side of the island. But, before you could really consider the potential danger of what could have caused the shift, there's a sound. A low, distant groan of metal protesting against itself.
Your ears twitch. That's not the wind.
Something is falling.
You scramble up and almost set yourself tumbling to the ground in your haste, before gluing your eyes to the horizon. Your heart pumps loudly in your chest, partly from a growing excitement, and partly from the spill you'd just avoided. You ignore that, though, in favor of trying to find what's going on. Your eyes flicker back and forth between the cover of the leaves desperately honing in on the groaning sound until…
There.
A flicker of sunlight reflected in shades of gold and brass tumbling down through the clouds and casting an unmistakable silhouette.
An airship.
Your eyes widen. Not with alarm, or fear, but something else entirely.
Curiosity.
It sparks in your chest, blooming through you like those fireworks had that one evening when Ma had taken you over to Zenith. A ship, plummeting from the heavens is not something you've ever seen before. Not something that anyone, even the oldest and crotchetiest elders had ever told a story about before. More than that. More than a story that had never been heard in Brambleburrow before, that sparkling light was something more.
A chance.
For what, you don't know yet. But the wind was shifting, and if there's one thing you've learned, it's that sometimes—like that carrot cake on your twelfth birthday—the best things in life come crashing straight into you.
Literally.
You grin, already swinging down from your perch. Whatever happens next, one thing is certain—you're not about to miss it.
Your feet hit the ground with a soft thud, knees bending to absorb the landing as you push forward, already in motion. The airship drifts lower, tracing an unsteady spiral toward the distant hills beyond the village. You watch it for a heartbeat, eyes locking onto its erratic path, before your instincts take over.
It's getting away.
If you want to see where it lands—maybe even be the first one there—you'll have to move.
You slip between the trees, darting past trunks and leaping over gnarled roots with a speed that would have challenged the wind—that village elder wasn't wrong about you being fast, he was just wrong about you being interested in running errands. The wind hums past your ears, carrying the distant creak of straining metal and the occasional hiss of escaping steam.
It's still falling, but not for much longer.
Your pulse thrums—not from exertion, but from something else entirely. A falling airship is a secret waiting to be unraveled. And if you're quick enough, maybe you'll get the first glimpse before the rest of Brambleburrow comes running.
And wouldn't that be something?
That thought pushes you even faster, the forest around you turning into a blur as you sprint, until finally, after several more minutes of racing through the forest undergrowth you break through a line of trees and into a small clearing. For a moment, you lean forward, bracing hands on knees, winded from your sprint, but even the burning in your lungs and your racing heartbeat can't keep you from looking at the reason you ran all this way.
Before you, the clearing unfurls. Dappled sunlight filters through gaps in the canopy, casting golden light on a sight you'd never even imagined before: a massive oak, its sprawling limbs cradling a ship never meant to be grounded.
The airship lingers in uneasy suspension, its Skyveil—partially deflated—snared in the gnarled embrace of the oak tree and straining, groaning with each restless shift of the wind. The hull isn't shattered, but it definitely looks the worse for wear. Dented armor plates lie next to sections marked by long, furrowed gouges, while decorative bits dangle loosely, swaying in the slight breeze like so many pieces of debris.
You tilt your head, ears flicking as you take it all in. An airship, crashed from the skies and yet still in one piece. Something about it calls to you. Maybe it's the scuffed grandeur peeking through the wreckage. Maybe it's the sheer absurdity of it all. Or maybe—just maybe—it's something deeper.
Whatever the case, you don't have to answer that now. After all, the real question is…
Now what?
Mechanics are in a spoiler below, but a few things to mention here. The difficulty of these actions (or any actions going forward) are not necessarily the same. The narrative may provide context (which will be reflected in the vote options), so long as Azure is aware of it. Another thing to mention: we're not just passing checks with these options, we're figuring out what kind of person Azure is.
[] Climb and Investigate (Airship Skill) – You grip the nearest branch, testing its weight before pulling yourself up.
[] Call Out and Listen (Diplomacy Skill) – You cup your hands around your mouth, voice steady as you call toward the ship.
[] Scout the Perimeter (Intrigue Skill) – You keep low, moving like a shadow along the tree line.
Notes
Skyveil – A whisper-thin weave of magic and alchemy, more ephemeral than cloth. It drinks in wind aether and transforms that into propulsion that keeps ships aloft and sailing.
Brambleburrow – Azure's hometown, a languid place nestled between rolling hills and ancient woodlands. It is a village of quiet comforts and predictable days, where festival lanterns swing in the wind and the biggest excitement is a new recipe at the bakery.
Peacekeepers – The military and policing force of the Aurean Concord, tasked with maintaining order across the skies. They patrol trade routes, suppress piracy, and enforce the Concord's rule.
Aurean Concord - A vast skyborne republic and one of the great powers of the Skybound Realms. The Concord governs a massive floating continent and hundreds of scattered isles from its capital, Zenith Reach, a city of towering spires and endless docks.
Azure's Dice Pools
Skill
Dice Pool
Description
Combat
2d10
Has some natural agility, but lacks training or endurance.
Airship
5d10
A natural at flying, but don't ask her to fix anything.
Commerce
1d10
Avoids trade and finance like the plague.
Diplomacy
2d10
Can charm in casual settings, but she's no serious negotiator.
Intrigue
3d10
Sneaky, clever, but lacks discipline.
Learning
1d10
She could be smart, but doesn't care enough to try.
Social Links
Who
Relationship Summary
Rank
Azure doesn't have a ship or a crew just yet
Dice Mechanics
Roll 1d10 for checks. A roll of 7 or higher counts as a success.
The number of required successes varies based on difficulty.
Level of Difficulty
Description
Successes Required
Easy
A task that is simple for most individuals, requiring little effort.
1 success
Moderate
A challenge requiring skill, experience, or effort.
2 successes
Hard
A difficult task that pushes one's capabilities.
3 successes
Extreme
A near-impossible feat requiring significant expertise or luck.
4 successes
Legendary
A task that defies belief, achievable only by the truly exceptional.
5 successes
Skill Categories
Combat - This governs all physical confrontations, whether it's a barroom brawl, a deadly duel, or an ambush in the skies.
Airship - This governs all actions related to piloting, maintaining, and commanding an airship.
Commerce - This governs deals with trade, negotiation, and financial matters.
Diplomacy - This governs social interactions, persuasion, and influence over others.
Intrigue - This governs espionage, stealth, subterfuge, and manipulation.
Learning - This governs intelligence, research, magic, and the pursuit of knowledge.
Social Links
Social Links (SL) provide direct bonuses to their primary skill areas.
Each increase in a Social Link level grants a +1d10 bonus to the crew member's main skill category.
Strengthening bonds can be achieved through shared experiences, completing tasks together, and engaging in meaningful interactions.
[AN] hello and welcome to a quest set in a fantasy world of airships and floating continents. Let's see what kind of adventures and shenanigans Azure and her crew can get up to as they sail along the Autumn Road.
Think i'll go ahead and close now. looks like diplomacy is the winner. Update should be in a day or so. On a side note, I'll keep Azure's character sheet at the bottom of the updates 'cause i always forget to update it otherwise.
You cup your hands around your mouth and call up toward the wreckage, voice carrying over the rustling leaves and the occasional creak of the ship's strained hull.
"Hey! Anybody up there? You hurt? Need help?" You pause, ears twitching, listening for any sign of movement. "I mean, if you're just hiding because you're shy, that's fine too, I guess! But that looked like a pretty big crash, so if you need something, now's the time to say so!"
Silence stretches, broken only by the gentle groan of shifting metal. You tap your foot impatiently before trying again.
"Look, I'm not saying I'm great at saving people, I do have a veggie pie, though!" You lift your satchel slightly as if the unseen survivor might somehow catch sight of your precious cargo. "Only one, though. The other two are mine. But if you're hungry and alive, I'm totally willing to share!"
A gust of wind spirals down from above, kicking up a swirl of leaves before coalescing into a streak of green light. In a flash, a figure materializes on the prow of the ship, arms crossed, her bright blue eyes narrowing as she peers down at you. The wind seems to ripple around her, ruffling playfully at her golden hair tugging against the loose fabric of her robe.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she huffs, her voice carrying that familiar exasperation. "You're out here hollering like a madwoman at the crack of dawn. Some of us enjoy a little peace in the morning, you know."
You blink up at her slowly, then lift a finger and point toward the sky where the sun blazes overhead, warm and unmistakable.
"It's past noon," you say, carefully enunciating each word as if speaking to someone particularly slow. "As in, the side of the day that's closer to the evening. Which means you're either a really, really deep sleeper, or you don't know how time works. And while I can appreciate sleeping in as much as anyone, I certainly don't go around shouting at people who wake me up."
Well, not always, at least…
She scoffs, tossing her hair back with a flick of wind. "Oh, I know how time works just fine. And unlike you, you disrespectful dirt-walker, I was actually busy before you started squawking like an overgrown seagull."
You cross your arms. "Busy doing what, exactly? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've got all the time in the world to shout at a poor bunny who was just trying to be helpful."
"Helpful, hah!" Her eyes narrow, and the air around her stirs with renewed energy. "If you must know, I was maintaining my ship, thank you very much. Not that I'd expect someone like you to understand the complexities of keeping an airship in one piece—let alone how to keep the aethero-phasic engine running when the reservoir's dry and the propulsion's in the red... Honestly, I'm lucky this thing hasn't dropped out of the sky entirely."
You glance at her, then at the massive tree wrapped around the ship, its thick branches entwined with the hull, and then back at her again. You don't say anything.
She follows your gaze, blinking as if seeing the wreckage for the first time. Her confident stance falters, her arms lowering slightly. Then, realization dawns in full force.
"My ship!" she shrieks, her voice echoing through the trees. "What—how—why is it—?"
Her gaze snaps back to you, eyes alight with fury. "You! What did you do to my ship?!"
"Me?" The fur on your ears bristles as you glare right back, "I didn't do anything except run over here and offer you a snack, which, if we're being honest, should make me the hero of all this."
She jabs a finger toward you, scowling. "How can you be thinking about food at a time like this?! My ship is tangled up in a tree, my engine is barely functional, and you're standing there acting like you're some kind of snack-wielding hero!"
"Hey, these are my Ma's pies!" You shout back, offended on behalf of your ma'. "And they're not just any pies—they're stuffed with roasted veggies, a kind of garlic butter sauce, and sprinkled with a bit of cheese and some spices on top. She sells them for six copper a pair in town. If anything, I'm even more of a hero for even considering sharing one."
She lets out a frustrated groan, hands gripping at her hair before she glares down at you again. "Stop blathering about your food. My ship is stuck in a tree!"
For a moment, you're tempted to keep shouting, but waking up to find your airship was in a tree instead of the sky was probably reason enough to shout—though not enough reason to insult your ma's cooking. So instead, you grin and reply, "Yeah, but it'll still be there after a snack, right? Plus, food always makes me feel better."
"You! You insufferable! Fine." The girl disappears in the same flash of wind that she'd first appeared in, only to reappear beside you a moment later, hand outstretched imperiously for a pie.
Barely keeping your smugness to yourself, you hand one over before pulling another out for yourself. You watch as she devours hers at a pace just slightly slower than the pace at which you ate yours.
Ma's pies really are the best.
When she finishes hers, her eyes drift away from yours, flicking down toward your remaining pie. Before she could even think of asking to split it, you stuff the final pie in your mouth. You hear a muffled sound of annoyance or disgust, but what does that matter against the crunchy, buttery goodness of ma's cooking.
When you clear your throat enough to respond, you grin, "Good, aren't they?"
The girl just sighs, huffs, then finally nods.
"So, what happened to your ship?" you ask, gesturing toward the tangled wreckage.
She scowls at you, "It crash-landed in a tree, what do you think happened to it?."
"No, I mean before that."
She hesitates, then crosses her arms. "It was the- I mean, I got caught in a gale and flew too close to the tempest convergence and then..." she trails off, avoiding your gaze.
You roll your eyes at the amateur lie. You'd made up better ones when caught red-handed with half a cake stuffed in your mouth. "Must have been a hell of a storm to pick up this close to the lee shore of Aurios."
She lifts her chin, crossing her arms. "Yes, well, I wouldn't expect a dirt-walker like you to understand how much damage a storm could cause."
"Yeah, well, I know enough to know..." You take a step closer, running a finger over a long, uneven scrape along the hull. "This? This isn't wind damage. A real storm scuffs things up all over, not in concentrated impact marks like these."
You gesture toward the crumpled stabilizer fins. "And these? Bent in completely the wrong way for a simple gale. Looks more like something hit them head-on."
Your eyes trail up to a line of scorch marks near the starboard propulsion vents. "And this? Burn damage near the intakes, but not from lightning. More like...aetheric discharge, if you ask me. Like something fired on you."
You cross your arms, smirking. "Funny, doesn't really look like it was just a storm that did all this."
"You... you..." The girl slumps, her shoulders dropping as the fight drains out of her. She lets out a long sigh before muttering, "Fine. I'll tell you, but not out here."
She turns sharply, leading you up the gangplank and into the airship. With a shrug, you decide to follow her, making your way through narrow corridors until you reach what looks like the captain's room.
Unlike your own quarters—usually a mess of dirty clothes, food wrappers, and the occasional cool-looking rock—this room is eerily empty. No personal belongings, no signs of anyone really living here. Just a bed, a chair, and a few unremarkable storage compartments.
She sits down on one end of the bed, and you join her on the other. A long silence stretches between you before she finally exhales heavily.
"My name is Sylphie," she admits, her voice quieter now. "And I am the Endless Horizons' Aetherbound Core, the result of a one-of-a-kind magitech artifice—a fusion of a sentient wind spirit and the ship's very essence." She pauses, her fingers tightening in her lap. "At least, I was... until something shook loose the spells that bound me."
Her gaze drops to the floor. "I don't remember much after that, just gunfire… being chased… a wall of clouds ten thousand feet high. And after that… the next thing I remember is waking up to your shouting."
You don't have anything you could say to that, so instead, you continue listening as she describes airships that could only belong to one of the most infamous pirate gangs in Aurean Skies.
As is only appropriate, the one-of-a-kind airship is being chased by someone who wants her back.While you'll need all your skills and luck to help Sylphie (because what kind of bunny-girl protagonist would you be if you left her after hearing all this), certain options will lean more into certain kinds of skills.
[] The Skyfang Corsairs – A ruthless band of high-speed raiders who rely on expert piloting and superior aerial tactics to strike quickly and vanish before authorities can respond. Their flagship, The Gilded Fang, is equipped with enhanced propulsion systems and a modified skyveil, making it one of the fastest ships in the sky.
[] The Veilcutters – A notorious smuggling syndicate that thrives in the shadows, slipping through patrol lines and dealing in stolen magitech. They prefer deception and sabotage over direct confrontation, and their ships are modified for stealth, fitted with dampened engines and cloaking fields.
[] The Ironwake Marauders – A coalition of ex-military privateers who operate under a loose code of honor, using intimidation and negotiation as much as brute force. Their flagship, The Storm Oath, bristles with firepower, but they prefer to claim prizes through deals and threats rather than outright combat.
[AN] We're going full bore on some anime stereotypes, but to be fair, I can't really think of a better place for them than a sky-pirate setting. Also, have another chapter because I've been trapped in meetings I don't have anything to do with today and I've been bored.
[X] The Skyfang Corsairs – A ruthless band of high-speed raiders who rely on expert piloting and superior aerial tactics to strike quickly and vanish before authorities can respond. Their flagship, The Gilded Fang, is equipped with enhanced propulsion systems and a modified skyveil, making it one of the fastest ships in the sky.
Going to be honest, this vote is solely based on the name. It just hooked me. Also, Sylvie and Azure's interactions are absolutely perfect! I would fight and/or die for both of them, so excellent work!
[X] The Skyfang Corsairs – A ruthless band of high-speed raiders who rely on expert piloting and superior aerial tactics to strike quickly and vanish before authorities can respond. Their flagship, The Gilded Fang, is equipped with enhanced propulsion systems and a modified skyveil, making it one of the fastest ships in the sky.
[X] The Ironwake Marauders – A coalition of ex-military privateers who operate under a loose code of honor, using intimidation and negotiation as much as brute force. Their flagship, The Storm Oath, bristles with firepower, but they prefer to claim prizes through deals and threats rather than outright combat.
gonna close it here. update should be out in half an hour or so.
Scheduled vote count started by dmclain2 on Feb 27, 2025 at 5:29 PM, finished with 3 posts and 3 votes.
[X] The Skyfang Corsairs – A ruthless band of high-speed raiders who rely on expert piloting and superior aerial tactics to strike quickly and vanish before authorities can respond. Their flagship, The Gilded Fang, is equipped with enhanced propulsion systems and a modified skyveil, making it one of the fastest ships in the sky.
[X] The Ironwake Marauders – A coalition of ex-military privateers who operate under a loose code of honor, using intimidation and negotiation as much as brute force. Their flagship, The Storm Oath, bristles with firepower, but they prefer to claim prizes through deals and threats rather than outright combat.
Sylphie exhales, her shoulders dropping slightly as if finally resigning herself to your presence. "Well…" she mutters something beneath her breath, studying you with a searching gaze then pushes herself to her feet. "Thanks for the lunch, but I really need to get these repairs done."
You blink as she walks out the door without a another word and decide to follow her. You quickly fall in step behind her, and while she doesn't acknowledge you, you can tell by her lack of protest, that she's willing to tolerate your presence—for now. Sylphie walks down a dim corridor, the quiet hum of the engine thrumming beneath your feet, until she stops at a narrow access hatch. With practiced motions, she pops up the hatch and drops down into the darkness below. With a shrug, you drop down behind her, landing with barely a sound.
Fortunately for you, your bunny-eyesight makes short work of the gloom, and you have no trouble following her down the cramped access tunnel until she stops, a few dozen paces later in front of a wooden door covered in warning signs. She exhales sharply as she places a hand on the door. A faint hum seems to vibrate through the air, but the sound is almost immediately swallowed by the solid clunking sound of a locking mechanism opening.
As the door opens with a quiet click, she glances over her shoulder at you, her expression already exasperated. "Try not to do anything stupid," she warns, stepping inside first.
The two of you step into the engine room, a large room rendered cramped by the sheer number of things inside it. Pipes and spinny-things and belts and cables and chains attached to fan-like things… so many things you've never seen before. Never imagined could be inside an airship's engine room. Your eyes widen, trying to take in everything all at once and your fingers soon follow suit, poking, prodding, and prying with abandon.
This was so much cooler than those boring airship tours your ma' took you to in Zenith.
"Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" she snaps after the third time you trail your fingers across a shiny-something-or-other.
"No, you told me not to do anything stupid," You smirk, but take your hand away from the shiny thing. "But this isn't being stupid. It's being smart. Besides, how else am I supposed to figure out how something works if not by touching it?"
"A user manual?"
"Isn't this supposed to be a one-of-a-kind airship?"
"The Endless Horizons is a marvel of magitech engineering and aetheric manipulation. We are more than merely one-of-a-kind."
"Right, so do you even have a user manual."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue, which you take as a victory. Instead, she stops in front of a different shiny-something-or-other and pushes a few of the shinier lights before turning back toward you. "Since you're here, you might as well make yourself useful. I need to recalibrate the propulsion conduits."
"Ah, yes. The conduits. Definitely know what those are."
You point to something that looks vaguely conduit-like. Sylphie frowns. You shift and point at something boxier, with a little fan embedded in it—her frown deepens. Undeterred, you try a third time, tapping a section of exposed piping. This time, she exhales sharply, rubbing her temples. "You have no idea, do you?"
You grin, rocking back on your heels. "Not a clue."
Her hands tighten into fists at her sides. "Fine, then do exactly what I tell you to."
Sylphie continues the repairs, her focus sharp as she adjusts aether valves and monitors energy flows. She starts assigning you tasks—small ones at first, like holding a component in place or tightening a few bolts. Easy. Simple. Until she starts explaining things. And that's where things all begin to go wrong.
It starts with you handing over a tool. Sylphie barely glances up before correcting you, her voice clipped and impatient. "No, not that one. The stabilizing spanner."
You hesitate, then grab a tool that kind of looks like a stick with a watch head on it and pass it over. She finally looks at you, expression unreadable, before letting out a long, slow breath. "That's a torque gauge."
You try again, and this time, her eyebrow twitches. "Are you doing this on purpose?"
"Absolutely not," you say, far too quickly to be convincing.
She groans and rubs her temples, muttering something about "why me?" before yanking the correct tool from the rack herself. "Just—watch and learn, alright?"
And you do. Or at least, you think you do. You watch Sylphie closely, nodding at all the right moments, and mimicking the way she handles the tools. Confidence builds as you start recognizing patterns in her movements, the way she adjusts certain knob-things and adjusts other pipe-things.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot something—a knob-thing that definitely looks loose. And, after watching Sylphie work, you're sure you can fix it. So, without a second thought, you reach out, determined to prove that you can actually contribute.
Unfortunately, it doesn't go quite how you expect. The moment you adjust the knob, a sharp crackle erupts from the panel, and sparks fly in a chaotic burst of light. You yank your hand back instinctively as a loud pop echoes through the small space.
Sylphie wheels around, her expression pure murder. "What did you do?!"
"Nothing!" You throw up your hands defensively.
Sylphie's glare somehow grows more murderous.
"Okay, maybe something. But how was I supposed to know that thing wasn't supposed to move? It looked just like all the other knob-things you've been adjusting."
The murder fades from her eyes as she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is exactly why I told you to watch my instructions. You can't just poke at things and hope for the best!"
You shift awkwardly, watching as she resets whatever delicate balance you just ruined. After a moment, you clear your throat. "So... what now?"
She exhales through her teeth, glaring at you. "Now? Watch and do not touch a single thing."
And so you do. You try. You really do. But despite your best efforts, the technical explanations remain a muddled mess in your head.
More than once, Sylphie mutters something about "why do I even bother," but she doesn't outright kick you out. Not yet, anyway.
Airship Check, Easy Difficulty [7, 6, 5, 6, 8] 2 Successes – Pass
Sylphie lingers for a moment, her fingers drumming against a nearby console before exhaling sharply. "I need to check the stabilizers," she mutters, though there's a hesitation in her stance, like she's debating whether or not to leave you alone. Finally, with a shake of her head, she turns toward a maintenance hatch. "Don't. Touch. Anything."
She pauses to shoot you one last warning glance right before disappearing into the crawlspace and leaving you alone in the engine room.
The moment she's out of sight, you glance around, hands already twitching with curiosity. The engine room is full of buttons, levers, and glowing knobs practically begging to be poked. But, you clench your fists, willing yourself to stay still, to not touch anything. Unfortunately, that lasts about five seconds. Until your eyes lock onto a particularly shiny switch. Maybe just a little…
No.
You exhale slowly, shifting your weight, as you push that temptation aside, only to see a panel with lights flickering irregularly on it. Then the urge surges back even stronger. Surely Sylphie wouldn't mind if you just stabilized it? That's responsible. Helpful, even.
No. She told you not to touch anything.
So, you shake out your hands and glance toward the hatch she disappeared into and start trying to pysch yourself up. You can do this. You can resist shiny things and flashing lights. You are a bunny-girl mature beyond her years.
Then, in the silence, the aether conduits give a low, pulsing hum, and that's it. Resistance crumbles. Your fingers twitch forward, and before you fully realize what you're doing, you've already reached out to press something.
And really, Sylphie should have known better.
You poke at a control panel, adjusting a few dials, and nothing explodes, which you take as a good sign. Then, you fiddle with a loose-looking lever, convinced it must do something important. The hum of the ship shifting ever so slightly confirms your hunch, and you grin. Encouraged, you press a few buttons at random and still nothing disastrous happens.
You must have just been unlucky that first time.
Now, you're determined to make the most of your unsupervised time and the only way to do that is to start exploring in earnest. You duck under consoles, poke your head into open panels, and even wedge yourself into a narrow crawlspace to get a better look at the intricate machinery tucked into the ship's frame. Every surface seems to hum with potential, every glowing aetheric-what'sit practically begs for investigation.
At one point, you find yourself shimmying beneath a bunch of overlapping tubes and pipes, fingers probing, searching for something—anything—that looks off. Until… wedged into a nearly invisible crevice beneath one of the consoles, you spot something that actually looks like it needs fixing.
A disconnected something-or-other that clearly looked like it should have been connected to what you were positive was the aetheric engine. For a moment, you hesitate, remembering how Sylphie had yelled at you for the last 'repair' you had tried, but this? You're sure you can fix this.
And, after a moment of fiddling to get the thing back in place, the ship gives a low, almost pleased hum. A moment later, the aether in the engine's core flickers brighter.
By the time Sylphie returns, you're sitting on a crate, arms crossed in a pose that shows just how amazing an airship engineer you are.
She frowns at you momentarily, before taking a slow look around the room. She freezes. Her eyes latch onto a glowing screen, now much more visible thanks to the improved light from the engine you just totally fixed.
Slowly, her gaze settles on you, wary. "What. Did. You. Do."
You tilt your head innocently. "Oh, nothing much. Just fiddled with some knob-thingies, adjusted the aetheric-what'sit, and optimized the glowy bits, you know, minor stuff."
Sylphie's eye twitches. "You did what?"
You just grin smugly. The brightly glowing engine was all the proof you needed.
She storms past you, scanning the diagnostics. After a tense silence, she exhales through her nose. "I can't believe it," she mutters. "You actually—no. No. I refuse to believe you knew what you were doing."
You smirk. "See, I told you I knew all about this sort of stuff."
She pinches the bridge of her nose, exasperation radiating off her in waves. "Please stop talking."
[] Aetheric Drift Thrusters – An auxiliary propulsion system that allows for sharp, precise maneuvers, letting the ship weave through obstacles, dive into tight turns, and slip through terrain that would force larger vessels to slow or reroute.
[] Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[] Resonant Core Overclock – A power distribution system that channels excess aetheric energy into propulsion, enabling sudden bursts of speed for quick escapes or rapid repositioning. However, prolonged use risks overloading the core.
Then, just as Sylphie begins making a final check of the engine room, the airship shudders.
You freeze, ears twitching. Sylphie looks up sharply, then bolts for a nearby console, fingers flying over the controls. The hum of the ship's core fluctuates as she pulls up external readings.
Her eyes widen. "They're here."
The weight of those two words settles in your gut. You don't need to ask who they are. You scramble up next to her, peering over her shoulder at the flickering displays.
Beyond the clouds, distant shapes are moving—ships, dark and fast, their aetheric signatures sharp.
Sylphie curses under her breath. "They found me."
You grip the edge of the console, a slow grin spreading across your face despite the rising tension. "Then I guess it's time to see what this ship can do."
Azure's Dice Pools
Skill
Dice Pool
Description
Combat
2d10
Has some natural agility, but lacks training or endurance.
Airship
5d10
A natural at flying, but don't ask her to fix anything.
Commerce
1d10
Avoids trade and finance like the plague.
Diplomacy
2d10
Can charm in casual settings, but she's no serious negotiator.
Intrigue
3d10
Sneaky, clever, but lacks discipline.
Learning
1d10
She could be smart, but she doesn't care enough to try.
[x] Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[x] Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[x] Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[X] Aetheric Drift Thrusters – An auxiliary propulsion system that allows for sharp, precise maneuvers, letting the ship weave through obstacles, dive into tight turns, and slip through terrain that would force larger vessels to slow or reroute.
[X] Aetheric Drift Thrusters – An auxiliary propulsion system that allows for sharp, precise maneuvers, letting the ship weave through obstacles, dive into tight turns, and slip through terrain that would force larger vessels to slow or reroute.
let's close it here. update should be out today or tomorrow.
Scheduled vote count started by dmclain2 on Feb 28, 2025 at 3:15 PM, finished with 5 posts and 5 votes.
[x] Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[X] Aetheric Drift Thrusters – An auxiliary propulsion system that allows for sharp, precise maneuvers, letting the ship weave through obstacles, dive into tight turns, and slip through terrain that would force larger vessels to slow or reroute.
As Sylphie scrambles up to a glowing something-or-other, you glance out the nearest window. Tiny black specks dot the horizon, weaving through the sky, growing larger with every passing second. Your stomach drops. "That doesn't look good."
Sylphie glances up following your stare and stiffens beside you. "Red and black," she mutters. "Of course it's them."
You spot it a moment later—an unmistakable crimson-and-onyx patterned flag whipping against the wind. The Skyfang Corsairs. Pirates.
Unlike you, Sylphie only stares for a second before her eyes fall back to the glowing panel. Her hands move as a blur, flipping switches and adjusting dials. Sparks flare an actinic counterpoint as she fights to bring the Endless Horizons to life. Until, between one moment and the next, green lights start to flicker to life across the control panels.
The ship trembles beneath you, engines sputtering and whining as they flare to life. A warning klaxon blares overhead and a streak of compressed aether shoots down, missing the ship by a hundred paces but setting the tree it hit alight.
Shit. If that hits...
The deck beneath your feet shifts dangerously, but not enough to free the ship from the tree it had crashed into. Sylphie grits her teeth, fingers flying across the controls. "Come on, come on! Wake up, you stubborn pile of bolts!"
"Engines are warming up, but they need another minute!" Sylphie shouts over the rising alarm chimes.
"We don't have another minute!" you shoot back, eyes darting toward the fast-approaching silhouettes of the pirate ships.
Another blast of cannon fire streaks past the hull, lighting up the far edge of the clearing. Too close. You instinctively duck, even as Sylphie curses under her breath, hands flying over the controls. "Diverting auxiliary power to lift systems—this better work!"
The ship groans as it begins to rise, unsteady at first. Another shot blazes past, too close for comfort. "Anytime now!"
Almost as if responding to your shouts, the Endless Horizons lurches violently as it shakes free from the tree it had crashed into. You stumble into a nearby shiny-screen—had Sylphie called it a navigation console or an aetheric something-or-other?—a breathless laugh filling you as you see the sky and trees start to flit by in the window. You're flying. You're really flying.
Just as that breathless laugh starts to fade, Sylphie whirls around, eyes wild. "Take the damn wheel!"
You barely have time to react before she practically shoves you toward the controls. "What, me?!" you protest, but she's already turned back to another panel, adjusting things.
Another blast of cannon fire erupts behind you, and you throw your hands onto the wheel out of pure reflex. The ship wobbles under your touch, and you flinch back from the wheel.
Sylphie barks. "Aim for that storm! The reactive wind veil should keep us in one piece—we can lose them inside it!"
"But-"
Sylphie grips the edge of the console, her gaze fixed on the glowing bits. Her voice is steady, but there's an edge of urgency beneath it. "Look. I know this isn't great, but if you don't fly, we'll die."
Something in her words, or maybe in the way she's even now desperately trying to control the ship sparks something in you. You reach out toward the wheel again and nod, "Right."
Sylphie looks up from the shiny-what's-its' long enough to offer you a grim smile, "Just get us into the storm."
It's an airship chase. Mechanics are pretty straightforward. You roll against a repeating difficulty check, and if you rack up enough passes (in this case 3) before you rack up too many fails (also 3) then you escape. Otherwise it's boarding time.
You grip the wheel, knuckles white as you force the ship to climb higher. A burst of turbulence slams against the hull, making the Endless Horizons shudder violently. Outside, the pirate ships are gaining, their sleek, dark forms cutting through the sky like hunting falcons.
"Not good! Not good!" you yell as another ship angles to intercept, moving with alarming precision.
"Try actually piloting instead of just holding on!" Sylphie snaps, frantically adjusting the ship's energy flow. A crackling burst of aether ripples through the wind veil, momentarily flickering. In that instant, one of the pirate ships takes advantage, darting dangerously close.
"I don't know how to pilot it! I've never flown an airship before!" you shout, gripping the wheel as another blast of turbulence rattles the hull.
"Oh, wonderful! That's exactly what I wanted to hear right now!" Sylphie shoots back. "Next time, maybe keep that to yourself when we're in a life-or-death chase!"
"You were the one who told me to pilot it!" you snap, frantically jerking the controls in a way that is definitely not piloting. The ship wobbles violently, nearly throwing you from your seat. "And I think I'm doing great!" you add, voice just shy of pure panic.
"You-"
A sharp, mechanical click cuts off Sylphie's response, a moment later a low, amused voice cuts through the storm.
"This is Captain Ralvas of the Stormfang. Stand down and prepare to be boarded. Make this easy, and I might even let you keep a limb or two."
Cannon fire erupts from the enemy ship, a blast searing just past the starboard side. The Endless Horizons jerks violently, rattling under the force.
You grit your teeth and push hard on the controls, throwing the ship into a sudden dive. The deck tilts violently, sending everything not bolted down tumbling across the control room. You brace yourself as the Endless Horizons plunges downward, wind howling past the hull. Sylphie stumbles, catching herself against the console, and shoots you a glare.
The pirate ships begin to peel off from chasing you as you careen toward the ground. The ground looms large in front of the windows, but you keep the wheel pressed down, until, at last, the final pirate peels off. Then, with the top of the forest canopy scraping against the hull you yank your ship up. The sudden shift in momentum nearly throws you from your seat, but you hold fast, swerving around tree tops and trying to pick up altitude. A few of the pursuing ships struggle to adjust to your rapid turn but are forced to veer away as unstable wind currents knock them off course.
"Ha! How's that for piloting?" you shout, breathless, exhilaration bubbling up in your chest.
Sylphie, still recovering from being nearly thrown, glares at you. "Don't celebrate yet!" she snaps, eyes locked on the ship's readings. The skyveil hums back to full strength and you feel the deck beneath you stabilize.
You turn to look at the pirate ships steadily losing ground and can't help the grin that spreads across your face. "We're pulling ahead!"
"Then don't screw it up!" Sylphie barks, shoving a loose strand of hair out of her face as she fights to keep the ship from lurching too wildly. "Because if you throw us into another nosedive, I am throwing you overboard!"
Your moment of confidence is short-lived. A sudden gust catches the ship, and the Endless Horizons lurches dangerously—straight into the storm.
Darkness engulfs the cockpit, swallowing the last traces of the open sky. The world outside turns to chaos. Winds howl in every direction, buffeting the ship like a toy in a bathtub. Rain lashes against the windows in heavy sheets, cutting visibility and turning the pursuing pirate ships into ghostly shadows just barely visible in the swirling haze.
"What did you do?!" Sylphie yells as red and yellow lights flicker across her face.
"I didn't do anything! You were the one who told me to aim for the storm!" The ship bucks violently as another gust slams into it, and you struggle to keep your grip.
Sylphie, barely holding herself steady as she works at a lever glowing a bright red, shoots you a withering glare. "Yes, and I assumed you'd at least attempt to fly properly!" She grits her teeth, pushing a lever into place. "Keep us level—I need a second to redistribute the aether flow before your stupidity shakes us apart!"
Worse than that ominous statement are the pirates, whose ships knife into the storm after you, their red-and-black banners barely visible through the shifting haze. The Stormfang leads the charge, cutting through the gale like a blade, its silhouette framed by flashes of lightning. A ship slips through the turbulence, locking onto your tail. Captain Ralvas's voice crackles through the speakers again, smug and mocking.
"You really think you can hide from me in a storm? I'll carve my name into your hull before this night is through!"
A sudden flash illuminates the dark storm clouds as the Stormfang fires another round. The shot roars through the chaos, barely missing the hull as you wrench the controls to the side. The Endless Horizons spins, caught momentarily in the storm's grip before you wrestle it back under control. The deck beneath your feet trembles under the force of the maneuver, the groan of the straining hull lost in the storm's fury.
"They're too close! We need to shake them!" Sylphie calls out, fingers flying over the glowing buttons.
You take a breath, and something shifts. The ship lurches, the storm swallowing you whole, and for a moment, all you can do is hold on. Wind howls, the controls bucking in your grip, but something about the chaos feels… familiar. Not in the way a fight does, but in the way a song feels when you know exactly when the beat will drop. Your fingers tighten on the wheel. This isn't a battle. It's a dance. And if there's one thing a bunny-girl from Brambleburrow better be good at it's dancing.
A gust surges up from below like a dance partner gesturing for you to take the lead, and you rush forward to meet it. The ship rockets upward, climbing hundreds of feet in an instant. The deck trembles beneath the force, Sylphie cursing as she's nearly thrown from her seat.
"What in the Void was that?!" she yells, grabbing onto the nearest console.
"We're dancing with the storm, Syl!" you shout back, exhilaration flooding your veins. The ship levels out a moment later, the storm thinning just enough for a brief moment of clarity. Below, you can see the pirate ships struggling to keep time with the storm's chaotic song.
Ralvas's voice crackles through the radio, now tinged with fury. "You arrogant little rats. You think you can slip away that easily? Keep running—I will find you."
Sylphie exhales sharply, as the lights around her flick from yellow back to green. "We just might make it, if you don't kill us first. And don't call me Syl. My name is Sylphie."
"Oh, come on! It's the perfect nickname!" You flash her a grin, gripping the controls like they were made for you. "I think I'm really getting the hang of this!"
"It is not," she lifts her head long enough to scowl at you, "And you'd better get us the hell out of here before Ralvas decides to prove you wrong!"
You grin, letting your eyes close once again and settle back into the dance with the storm. Up here it feels less like the flailing, chaotic energy of a harvest dance. No. It's more like on the solstice. All big moves and graceful spins. Not nearly as much fun, but you know those dances too.
And so, with an almost graceful slide that sets the skyveil billowing like those flowing white robes they make the dancers wear, you slip through the wind. With a near effortless grace, you follow an unseen current threading through the chaos, until the Endless Horizons catches something—perhaps an aetheric-slipstream buried deep within the storm—and suddenly, you're no longer dancing. You're launching.
The ship shoots upward like a comet, bursting out of the storm's embrace and into the open sky. One moment, you're lost in a maelstrom of wind and rain; the next, you're surrounded by an endless stretch of perfect blue, sunlight spilling over the horizon as if the storm had never existed.
Sylphie stares wide-eyed at the sudden change before slumping back against the console, breathless. "Well. That was something."
You laugh, exhilaration buzzing through you. "That was amazing! I am officially an airship-flying genius."
Sylphie groans, rubbing her temples. "I hate that you might actually be right."
Below, the storm churns with even greater fury, dark clouds twisting into a chaotic vortex. You watch as lightning rips through the sky, swallowing the last remnants of the pirate fleet. Sylphie, catching sight of the chaos, grins viciously. "I don't think they're making it out of that anytime soon—at least not in one piece."
For the first time since this whole mess started, you feel the tension in your shoulders begin to unknot. The sky beyond the storm is clear, stretching wide and endless before you, the last traces of the battle fading into a dark smudge on the horizon. You're alive. The ship is still flying. And the pirates? Stuck in that hellstorm.
The adrenaline crashes all at once. Your hands shake as you loosen your grip on the controls, and for a few long seconds, all you can do is breathe. The Endless Horizons hums beneath you battered but still aloft.
Sylphie leans against the console, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "We're alive. Somehow."
You let out a breathless laugh, your heart still hammering. "You doubted me?" You flash her a grin. "I told you I was a natural."
She lowers her hands and gives you a deadpan look. "You nearly killed us. Twice."
"But I didn't," you counter, stretching your arms behind your head. "And now we're safe! Look at all this lovely, non-storm-filled sky."
Sylphie drags herself upright, shaking her head as she glances over the console readouts. "We'll see how safe we are once I check the damage."
You roll your eyes. "Oh, come on. I bet we're perfectly fine—"
A loud clunk echoes from somewhere below deck, followed by a series of unsettling creaks.
Sylphie sighs. "Uh-huh. Perfectly fine."
She pushes off the console, already moving toward the nearest hatch. "I need to assess how bad it is. If we lost any plating or stabilizers, we could be in real trouble. Try not to break anything else while I'm gone."
You throw your hands up in mock offense. "I didn't break anything! I just saved us!"
"Exactly! Which means the damage is probably catastrophic."
She disappears below deck, leaving you alone in the cockpit, still catching your breath. The sky outside is deceptively peaceful, the storm nothing more than a dark smear on the distant horizon. You've won. For now.
You sit back in the pilot's seat, letting the tension slowly drain from your muscles. Outside, the sky stretches wide and open, a perfect contrast to the chaos you just escaped. Your hands still tingle from gripping the controls too tightly, your pulse still pounding in your ears.
For a long moment, you just watch the sky, the way the sun glints off the distant clouds, the way the horizon seems endless now that nothing is trying to shoot you out of it.
The sound of footsteps pulls you from your thoughts. Sylphie climbs back into the cockpit, face set into a frown. "We'll need to find somewhere to dock and make repairs," she announces, already scanning her favorite shiny-screen. "There's only so much I can do without some time and preferably a full workshop."
You made it through your first airship chase not entirely unscathed, and the pirates are gone (for now, at least). And so, you need to decide where to go next.To clarify, if you choose not to stop at the village, you'll probably send a note back when you get a chance. We won't leave poor Mama Azure wondering where her lazy daughter went.
[] First thing's first, you should stop by and tell your Ma' that you're leaving. Whether there's any time to do so doesn't matter—you can't just vanish without letting her know. It'll mean a delay, though, one that Syl probably won't like. Plus, if the pirates manage to get out of that storm quickly enough, they might catch up.
[] There's a lot of tiny, abandoned islands where you could land and start repairs. It won't be as good as a full skydock, but it's the safest option—fewer eyes, fewer questions. The problem? Supplies are limited, and if the ship needs serious work, you'll have to risk a bigger port eventually.
[] There's nothing for it but to head straight for Zenith. You'll find everything you need to repair the ship there—fast, efficient, and with proper tools. Surely, your airship would just be one among hundreds there. But that many ships mean that many people, and if the wrong sort catches wind of you, well... fixing the ship might be the least of your worries.
Azure's Dice Pools
Skill
Dice Pool
Description
Combat
2d10
Has some natural agility, but lacks training or endurance.
Airship
5d10
A natural at flying, but don't ask her to fix anything.
Commerce
1d10
Avoids trade and finance like the plague.
Diplomacy
2d10
Can charm in casual settings, but she's no serious negotiator.
Intrigue
3d10
Sneaky, clever, but lacks discipline.
Learning
1d10
She could be smart, but she doesn't care enough to try.
Social Links
Who
Relationship Summary
Rank
Sylphie
Starting to trust you, just a little
0
Endless Horizons
Status - In dire need of some repairs
Components
Reactive Wind Veil – A passive system that subtly manipulates airflow around the ship, improving stability and control in extreme weather conditions. It helps the vessel cut through turbulence, resist strong winds, and stay steady even in the harshest of storms.
[AN] I like how the chase mechanics let us get some back-and-forth to the narrative. I think we may see a similar approach to other high-stakes situations. Plus, it feels a bit more fair than failing something important on a single roll.
[X] There's a lot of tiny, abandoned islands where you could land and start repairs. It won't be as good as a full skydock, but it's the safest option—fewer eyes, fewer questions. The problem? Supplies are limited, and if the ship needs serious work, you'll have to risk a bigger port eventually.
[x] First thing's first, you should stop by and tell your Ma' that you're leaving. Whether there's any time to do so doesn't matter—you can't just vanish without letting her know. It'll mean a delay, though, one that Syl probably won't like. Plus, if the pirates manage to get out of that storm quickly enough, they might catch up.
Hey, Mom, I found a girl and some pirates and a storm to fly through and long story short I kind of have an airship even if it's technically not mine but anyway I think I'm moving out now.
[X] There's a lot of tiny, abandoned islands where you could land and start repairs. It won't be as good as a full skydock, but it's the safest option—fewer eyes, fewer questions. The problem? Supplies are limited, and if the ship needs serious work, you'll have to risk a bigger port eventually.
[X] There's a lot of tiny, abandoned islands where you could land and start repairs. It won't be as good as a full skydock, but it's the safest option—fewer eyes, fewer questions. The problem? Supplies are limited, and if the ship needs serious work, you'll have to risk a bigger port eventually.
[X] There's a lot of tiny, abandoned islands where you could land and start repairs. It won't be as good as a full skydock, but it's the safest option—fewer eyes, fewer questions. The problem? Supplies are limited, and if the ship needs serious work, you'll have to risk a bigger port eventually.
