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Gar gave us a flippant two-fingered salute as we clomped over to him. “And that spear of yours is pretty impressive. What is it? Some kinda artifact?”

“Yup. ‘The Spear of Destiny’. It’s soul-bound.” I emphasized the last slightly. “I’m stuck with it, and it gets stuck in a whole lot of people.”

“I bet it does. Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing wrong all this time, Ambrose. Should have been introducing myself to the ladies as the man with the Spear of Destiny.” Gar winked at Suri, who turned her face and grimaced.

The Mercurion—Ambrose?—sighed in dismay.

“Eh.” Gar waved like he was shooing a fly. “Anyway, we’re ready to go when you folks are ready to pay. She’s fueled up and ready to fly.”

“Great.” I hesitated before sending him the party request, hanging back from the edge of the gangplank. There was no reason for me to feel as distrustful as I did, other than the fact that Gar was… well, Gar. “Say—you got any idea what Cloud Emperors are?”

“Cloud Emperor Jellyfish. They aren’t dangerous to ships, unless you’re a big damn idiot.” Gar replied. “You see ‘em all the time over the open ocean. Great big man o’war lookin’ critters. You’ll find a pod of three or four of them hanging out over the water, dipping their tentacles in like fishing lines. Only problems you can have with em are if you fly into those tentacles, or if you scare ‘em.”

“What happens if you scare them?” Rin asked nervously.

“They fart,” Gar replied. “And somethin’ that size, floating around all full of who knows what? You don’t want that thing fartin’ anywhere near your goddamned engines. They put out some kind of gas that screws with navigation. Anyway, we ain’t afraid of em: the Strelitzia can fly rings around the bastards, and they don’t give a damn about airships. Hell, I got one of those game achievements from flying this ship between their tentacles once. Piece of cake.”

Ambrose sighed again. Emphatically.

“Hah.” Suri laughed, rubbing Cutthroat’s neck as the hookwing stamped and snorted. “You got a hookwing berth?”

“Sure. You got my money?” Gar asked, shooting me a suspicious glare.

“Sure do.” Against my better judgement, I sent Gar a party invite.

[Garcia Martinez has accepted your Join request.]

“Wait: You used your real name when you loaded in?” I opened my Inventory and set up the transfer from my Kingdom Funds.

“Yeah. Why not?” Gar shrugged. “Ain’t got nothing to hide.”

“Fair enough.” Before I sent the money over, I took a peek at his available character details. He was an Artificer, and his Advanced Path was probably the most matter-of-fact class I’d ever seen in a fantasy game: ‘Airship Engineer’. He was only Level 17, but his Skills were off the charts. He had Advanced and even Master levels in a range of different abilities: Airship Mechanics, Sapping, Improvised Construction, Materials Development… real-world technical skills, with hardly a mention of magic.

“How the hell did you get yourself an airship by Level 17?” I sent the money across, puzzled.

“Why? Got a problem with prime numbers?” He accepted his three grand, then immediately opted out of the Party.

“You know that every question isn’t some kind of attack on you, right?” I gestured between the two of us. “I’m trying to figure out who me and my people are going to be spending the next week with. I don’t need your life story or anything, but some basic info would be nice.”

Gar thought about that for a minute. “I’m good at my job. Like to fly. Not great at small talk and not good at playing games. How’s that for an answer?”

“We can help you level, if you’d like!” Rin said. “I’m a crafter, too!”

The man’s expression flickered briefly as he glanced at Rin. For a moment, he almost looked pained. “Polite of you, but I don’t need any help, miss…?”

“Rin,” she replied, sticking out a silvery hand. “Just Rin. Pleased to meet you!”

I smiled at Suri and Karalti as I watched him hesitate, then grudgingly shake. Rin had a way of opening people up.

“Alright. Enough chit-chat.” Gar shook out his shoulders like an irritated bird, then motioned with a hand. “Up you go. The dinosaur goes below decks. We got a single stall for live cargo down there. Just make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.”

“I’ve got food for her in my Inventory. As long as she has her face in a trough, she’ll be fine.” Suri clicked her tongue, and started Cutthroat up the gangplank.

“I bet she does, given she’s the size of a god-damned school bus.” Gar eyed the hookwing dubiously as she strutted past, keeping her nose close to Suri’s hair.

Ambrose peeled off after her, and the rest of us followed. Karalti reached for my hand, craning her head to take in the sights as we headed for the bulkhead door. Gar bounded up the ramp after us in a long-legged stride, waving at the curious crew members gawking at us through the portholes. “Alright, slackers! Gangplank up, sails out! Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Phew.” Karalti gave me a sidelong look. “He’s kind of intense, isn’t he?”

“You know, I knew a Garcia Martinez in the Army,” I said. “It’s not an uncommon name where I’m from, but I have to wonder if he’s the same guy.”

“Maybe!” Karalti bounded ahead through the door, sniffing deeply as the warm, slightly stale air from the cabin washed over us. “Are you excited to go to Meewhome?”

“I’m wondering what flavor of goat rodeo we’re gonna to have to deal with on our way to Meewhome,” I replied. “Because it’s practically a law that if a bunch of player characters with an important plotline get on an airship or a train, intending to travel to some important destination, something with a lot of teeth and a grudge

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