this time slower.
'So, Grumby,' Volo pressed, 'now that we're working together, what is the story of this ship? You really don't look the part of an archmage, if you know what I mean. No offense, of course.'
'None taken,' the dwarf replied, still bustling with what appeared to be a large canvas bag. 'But for that matter, now that I get a good look, you don't look like much of a smuggler, either. No offense.'
'None taken,' the gazetteer replied.
'Good,' Grumby replied, taking a break from his prep work to smoke a bowl full of his pipe and tell the tale of the ship. 'You see, she wasn't always my ship. She wasn't even originally called the Minnow. Originally she was christened the D. Niven, and she was the property of an archmage named Ffogg. Like yourself, he once planned on making a sky journey all around the world. Claimed he could do it in less than eighty days, too. You see he designed this ship himself, utilizing what he called a bag sail, that canvas thing over there, claiming that it would increase the speed and staying power of the ship's enchantment.'
'So what happened to him?' Volo inquired.
'Just before he was going to take off, he was arrested for embezzlement. The world tour was just a scam to mask his getaway. As you may have heard, justice around here is rather swift when certain people set their minds to it, and there is nothing like the memory of someone's hand in your purse to set your mind to it.'
'I can well imagine.'
'So,' the dwarf concluded, 'he was swiftly and fairly dealt with.'
'Come again?' Volo queried.
'Let's just say that he wasn't in any condition to lay claim to the ship that was waiting for him in the harbor at Halarahh, a ship that someone had- how shall I say? — accidentally set adrift.'
'That's where you came in,' Volo noted.
'Exactly,' the dwarf replied. 'The law of the sea clearly states that an abandoned vessel is fair game for salvage. I just extrapolated that law to airships as well and moved her down here to Khaerbaal for a new paint job and a rechristening.'
With that, the dwarf finished his pipe and climbed aboard the Minnow, did a few last minutes of fiddling with the bag sail, and announced, 'Okay, we're ready to go. Bag's in place, pantry filled. Climb aboard.'
The two travelers and their recently acquired 'mate' Curtis climbed aboard in wonderment.
'But,' Passepout interjected, 'shouldn't we be outside? I mean, we can't go very far inside this boathouse.'
'Observe,' the churlish dwarf replied, with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
Grumby manned the main wheel and pulled a lever that was attached to the two main masts. That set off a chain reaction that threw open the main hatch, centered on the deck between the two masts, and started to inflate the bag sail, which expanded and lifted the Minnow slowly off the ground. The roof of the boathouse collapsed backward, folding over the sides of the external walls by means of huge hidden hinges, and the airship rose up into the air, unfettered any longer by the boathouse's confines.
Grumby chuckled at the openmouthed amazement of his passengers. 'Kinda neat, huh? I rigged the boathouse myself. Feel free to explore the ship. I'll be busy until we get out of Khaerbaal airspace, but by then we'll be smooth sailing. Don't mind the scorch marks on her bow. She had a slight altercation with a red dragon on the way down here. Didn't do much damage. Only lost two crewman. Oh, well, easy come, easy go.'
And with that the dwarf began to sing an old sea chantey about seven castaways, from which Volo, Passepout, and Curtis quickly sought relief in the confines of their cabin.
On the main deck of the airship, in addition to the two masts and the centralized hatch, were two cabins, one at the fore and one at the aft. The aromatic delights of Grumby dictated that he have the fore cabin, closest to the ship's wheel, for himself, while Volo, Passepout, and Curtis shared the aft one.
The legendary walls of Halruaa, which succeeded in boxing in the nation with mountains, dictated that their course bear due south first, out over the Bay of Taertal, before turning eastward toward Dambrath and beyond. Grumby was reluctant to give up the helm to anyone else but appeared confident in his own navigational skills, and this confidence soon infected the rest of the ship's crew, who gradually settled into a routine. Curtis, indeed, did know his way around a ship and was a great help in keeping the riggings straight and the bag sail unfouled. True to the cleric's word, Passepout avoided any bouts with airsickness, but he was plagued with vertigo any time he thought to look overboard. He also vigorously complained of the cold, a condition exacerbated by the wind whipping around the deck. Volo, for his part, contented himself with taking in the scenery below and reminding the chubby thespian to cast over the necromancer's gems at the appropriate locations.
'This is boring,' said the disgruntled thespian, having lost count of the amount of gems that he had dropped since they had left Suzail.
'That's only because you have been unwilling to enjoy the sights. There are numerous citizens of Faerun who would give their right arm for the aerial view that we have been enjoying these past few days… at least those of us who are willing to enjoy the view.'
Passepout blushed. 'I can't help it if I'm scared of heights,' he answered. 'Maybe I'll try again when we come to that place with the flying fish.'
'You mean the Bay of Dancing Dolphins,' Volo corrected, then paused. 'Now that you mention it, we should have passed it by now.'
'We're going the wrong way for that,' Curtis answered, joining the two travelers at the rail.
'Oh, really?' Passepout skeptically retorted.
'Sure,' the lad replied. 'We're heading northwest.'
Volo panicked. 'Where is the sun?' he demanded.
'There.' Passepout pointed.
'No!' responded Volo in a fit of anger. 'Grumby! Get down here!'
The dwarf swung down from his place at the helm to join the group at the rail. 'What do you want?' he growled.
'We're off course!' Volo screamed.
'Says who?'
'The kid,' Passepout replied.
'He's mistaken,' the dwarf countered.
'No, he's not!' Volo contradicted. 'We're heading west.'
'No, we're not,' the dwarf maintained. 'If we were heading west, we'd be over Chult by now.'
'What's Chult?' Passepout inquired.
'It's a land of jungles on the western edge of the Shining South, believed to be inhabited by giant thunder lizards,' replied Curtis, further fueling Passepout's conception of him as a know-it-all brat.
Volo looked overboard for a moment and then re-focused his attention on the aromatic dwarf. 'Chult is bordered on the west and the south by low, mountainous hills and lakes, and on the southeast, the direction from which we would be coming if I am correct, by savannahs,' the master traveler stated.
'Savannahs?' the dwarf queried. 'What are savannahs?'
'Grasslands,' Volo replied. He gestured over the side, 'like those.'
'Oh,' replied the dwarf, once again scratching his rat's nest of a beard. 'I guess this isn't a good time to bring up a few things.'
'Like what?' Volo demanded, barely holding his anger in check.
'Like we're heading toward that volcano over there, and, uh… '
'Spit it out!' the master traveler screamed.
'… and, uh, we seem to be losing altitude.'
'You mean…' Passepout pressed.
'Yup,' the dwarf replied. 'We're going down.'
Chapter 12
