The growing static charge heralded dark clouds on the horizon. As wisps turned to great grey swirls, clouds that promised rain metastasizing into the shadows of destruction, tension grew on the ship. Skie stood on the deck of the Ammaty D'aphyon and stared out over the plains, towards the coming storm. It was her first time on an airship, though she was finding it wasn't much different than a boat on the sea. The exception, she thought, as her eyes scanned downward over patches of farmland pieced together like the squares of a quilt, was that if this ship were to fall she wouldn't be able to swim to safety. The bottom of a bay looked more inviting than fields of wheat and barley stitched together by thin dirt roads and spindled tributaries cutting through the hills.

A gust of wind buffetted the side of the airship and it dipped as it was prone to do. When the swordswoman's hand moved to the rail to steady herself, there was a snap in the air and the sensation that her fingertips had been slapped. It wasn't the first time she'd been shocked by the static on the ship, but it was stronger now. It was time to go in, even if the wind hadn't picked up to whip her hair around her face. She couldn't stand here clearing strands of it from her eyes forever.

The hold itself was comfortable, if sparse. Furniture was bolted to the floor, and the lack of any decor made the dark wooden walls feel like they were closing in. Still, it was warm, free from the chill outside even if the air was just as thin. Skie found herself taking a moment to catch her breath as she sat down on a bench beside one of the crewman. He gripped a mug of something that smelled of apples and spice in one hand and a small book in the other. Skie mustered a smile when he glanced at her, but let it falter when his gaze swept back to the pages. He was dense for an Alerian elf, muscled and broad-shouldered. Somehow it made it feel strange when she scanned the pages in front of him to find that he was reading some Raiaeran tome. It was a familiar story, a legends of two elven lovers and a cautionary tale warning against following curious paths. Somehow, he seemed the type to be more patriotic than that.

"Sorry to interrupt your time," she apologized. "I was just wondering if you knew when we were stopping?"

She waited in silence as the seconds stretched.

"Got it," she muttered standing up again, sliding away along the bench as she turned to look for someone else to ask. "Enjoy the story. Esweld dies, by the way." She would be lying if she didn't admit the petty reveal didn't feel good. Before she stepped away from the table, the crewman cleared his throat.

"I know, but then they bring her back. I've read it before." He scoffed for a moment, before turning a page and shrugging, "and if you needed to piss, you should have done it before we left. Lucky for you we're picking up more supplies and workers in the next town. Shouldn't be long."

Outside the airship, the distant rumble of thunder stalked the ship as patient and steady as any snake in the brush.