The Sky Plains of Larth'oom

Standing Tall

The Noble Vagrant was looming over its next victim, blood red sails dwarfing its catch. The dark hull of the ship has long since rotted, yet still screams power at its enemies. Rows upon rows of rusted cannons jut proudly out of purposeful gashes in its hull, an unmistakable warning this is not the Nobles ship it once was. Even with all the violent transformations, the boat still kept the grandeur spawned only by a world renowned crafter.

Standing proud at the helm is a figure, silhouetted against the powerful Larth’oom sun, cape cracking the air like a whip. Just like his ship Baeron wore what could only be described as a Nobles outfit, worn and stained from countless battles, but keeping its aura of power and pride. Beneath ornate goggles his sharp eyes remained transfixed on the target in his wake, like a bloodhound, unmoving and emotionless.

He smirked once he saw the captain, the man who had set things in motion long ago, staring back at him. He was nearly close enough to smell the well-earned fear oozing off his spineless body. The lust to kill that is Baerons driving force began to stir, before enveloping him completely. He raised his hand, silencing the crew behind him and instilling fear in those in front. In the silence Baeron found a serene feeling he had not known for a long time. He took it in with a deep breath, enjoying these peaceful moments. But his job was not done. With a deep roar he threw his hand forward.

All hell breaks loose.

Humble Beginnings

Baeron woke with a start, another nightmare. The plush cushions and immaculate weave that laden his king-sized bed brought no comfort. He turned on his side and stared longingly at his father. In the picture his father wore his traditional war garment; it was a deep blue with tassels coming off almost every inch. It’s over elaboration did nothing to the aura of authority that a Captain of Naroe exudes. These nightmares always left Baeron feeling guilty. His father had made his fortune hunting the most powerful enemy the Naroe had known, the Oau. Yet his son needed a nightlight. With a long sigh he put his father face down and padded over to his wardrobe.

He stepped out onto the cool wooden deck and stretched meekly. The crew were darting around with the efficiency of bees, completely ignoring Baeron. Gold glinted from every surface of this heirloom. For those in the Sky Plains your ship is your most prized possession, and his father was no exception. Though long since burdened with too much luxury for war, The Noble Alchemist still dwarfed most ships, and some smaller communities. Baeron walked over to the bow of the craft and peered over at the fast approaching sky city of Cisciti.

The city is formed by a ring of tall wooden buildings winding up to the several gigantic balloons that kept it steady. The gaping hole in the middle of these buildings acted as the harbour, with ships of all sizes flying up through the bottom. This is his destination. Even after the months of travelling Baeron felt no excitement as he neared the city. The deck beneath him shifted forward as the ship began to fly lazily into the harbour.

Now that Baeron was close enough to draw attention hundreds of merchants and store hands alike lined the barriers circling the harbour, hoping to catch a glimpse of his magnificent ship. He glanced back and saw his first mate Ader taking in the surroundings. “Another day at the trading hubs, eh?” Baeron solemnly remarked, only to be drowned out by the approaching clamour. Ader is a tall broad man; his olive skin highlighted by the luminous gold outfit he garnished. He never was a man for subtlety. As usual a sly smile danced across his lips, no doubt thinking of the world famous prostitutes of Cisciti. A simple man but he had proved his strength long ago working for Baeron’s father, and his friendship since his father’s death. Ader caught a rope thrown to him from the harbour and began to tie an extremely complicated knot. Baeron, not wanting to be called to help out, turned and shuffled back to his quarters. It was going to be a long day.