PORT: THE SKY-CITY OF BHUJERBA

[returnjourney]

PORT: THE SKY-CITY OF BHUJERBA

May 4th, 2022 – May 11th, 2022
Welcome, bhadra, to the city-state of Bhujerba! The Peregrine touches down on May 4th, in a proper port — airships are the only way on and off the city, so the Aerodrome is a busy and bustling place. As a sky-city built on a mountainous structure floating ten thousand feet above the ground, it has little in the way of wilderness, but it has a sprawling city with deep mines stretching down beneath it. Look down past the railings when the thick clouds part and you'll see the world below; look up and you'll see great blue crystalline structures, a mark of the deep magicks that keep the city in the sky.

The full OOC write-up for the port is here. If you have any questions about the event, please ask here.

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Questions & Answers

1. Disembarking

It's been months since the ship made port, but whether it's been days or months, it's always exciting to see somewhere new. The Aerodrome is thriving with people, passenger ships and merchant ships and military ships alike making berth in the docks, all contributing to the rivers of people pouring in and out of the building. The sounds of the crowd bounce around the vaulted ceilings, humid tropical air hotter still for the press of bodies everywhere. Navigating the crowds takes a certain confidence, lest you get knocked aside by a burly creature carrying a crate on his back, or separated from your companions by a throng of chattering flight stewardesses.

Of course, not everyone will disembark. Inmates cannot leave the ship without a warden as escort, and wardens are responsible for inmates in port — they don't have to be glued to each others' sides, of course, but it's harder to make trouble under a watchful eye.

2. The Cloudborne Tavern

Thanks to the Navarch, there are rooms booked in the Cloudborne for passengers who do not want to trek back and forth from the Peregrine. Staying above a busy and bustling tavern isn't always the most restful affair, of course, given there isn't really a closing hour, but it certainly makes for a life experience.

The tavern below is full of colourful characters, drawn by the ludicrously cheap pints. It isn't uncommon for people to get soundly drunk, but a watchful Seeq keeps an eye out on the place: get too rowdy or violent and you might find yourself thrown out on your ass.

3. The Lhusu Mines

Though the mines are closed, there's plenty to do in the labyrinthine tunnels winding deep into the mountain.

The Paling — Talk with the locals in the taverns and on the streets and you might notice a frequent topic of conversation: the paling's fall. The paling was a Crystal used to create a magick barrier that kept fiends at bay in the mines, so that the miners could work safely. However, something — or someone — has stripped the paling of its magickal energy, and now the fiends have overrun the abandoned tunnels. Sometimes they even make their way out and attack the locals. It is imperative that some brave hero makes their way deep into the tunnels, finds the paling, and recharges its magick power. But so far no one has been up to the task...

Hunting Marks — A bulletin board in the Cloudborne has posters for bounties, seeking hunters willing to deal with the fiends that spill out of the mines. Many are for looking for materials, such as bat fangs fresh from the jaws of the massive, four-winged bats, or bone fragments from the undead skeletons. Or, for the particularly ambitious: the mighty Nidhogg, a colossal snake with a highly venomous tail spike. A prize awaits the first to return with its skin!

Filthy Pirates! — Not everyone ventures in to mop up trouble for the locals: the mines are a considerable draw to those who are happy to risk the fiends for the chance to loot the goods left behind. Many people have fallen in these attempts, leaving gil, armor, weaponry and other goods strewn through the depths. Be careful, though: not all treasure is as it seems.

4. Shopping!

The marketplace is as busy as the Aerodrome, with massive crowds clustered around covered tents, wooden booths, and humble cloths laid out on the stone floor, all bearing incredible wares. The atmosphere is raucous: people haggling boisterously, children scampering between adults' legs, people hollering for others to move, move, as they shove their way through with carts of purchases or goods for sale.

Food is plentiful: turnips and onions are particularly popular, given the season, and tomatoes fetch a high price. Street food vendors sell stewed cockatrice (chicken-esque!), chunks of moist cactus, flank steaks on sticks, and something aptly called "bacon bread".

And, given the war going on and fiends loose in the world, there is no short supply of weaponry and armor. Swords, pikes, bows, axes, daggers, even a small number of rudimentary firearms, all available to those with ample coin. Armor is popular too, with artisans prepared to make it custom within a day or two — leather is affordable, but the price of metal could feed a laborer for a year.

Beware of pickpockets. Happy shopping!

Comments

[doppleman]

[ With an agreeable shrug Tim clambers to his feet, his earlier suffocating fear forgotten. ]

Wha–who, the boy scout? Dang, musta biffed that one pretty good, huh? Didn't think it was easy to piss that guy off.

[ Or maybe it's that, ironically, Tim's never been a stellar judge of character. Not the way normal people are supposed to be, anyway.

He slides his prize back into the pocket of his sweatshirt and goes and grabs his jacket for good measure. Folds it primly over his arms in front of him, tries not to snicker to himself when he thinks he can just convince the wardens he's hiding a boner instead of contraband, recollects his awkward school years, and immediately becomes a little depressed at the reminder of who he used to be.

What can he say? He contains multitudes. ]

Welp. Llllead on, pumpkin.

[smugreport]

I kinda maybe physicallyassaultedhimandgavehimheadtrauma. It's not like I'm not used to people holding grudges, but in business they at least do it with a smile.

[ He says this as he scoots along the pod wall furthest from Tim and to the entrance, still giving the man a wide berth.

He only makes it to his feet and half a step before he half turns back. ]

Y-

[ A second to recompose ]

You really have to stop that.

[doppleman]

Stop what.

[ Guileless. Kind of no thoughts head empty about it, to be honest. But, uh— ]

Uhhhhh, hoooold on though, back up for a second. You did whatnow? But–but, but like, you. Out there, just. What, bludgeoning wardens or whatever? Oookay, maybe you are Hyperion.

[ He's following Rhys. Tim doesn't know where. To get bludgeoned, maybe. He's pretty sure he can take this guy? But not 100%. A whole cybernetic arm has to be ahead of the curve compared to a hand. To this day, Tim's shocked this thing wasn't built with enough compression force to crush windpipes into powder. Just seems like it'd be on brand, is all. ]

Heh, you sure you're really tryin' to get out of here at all?

[ The question is punctuated with a mild, unconvincing chuckle. The kind that suggests he's giving something away. ]

[smugreport]

....Nevermind.

[ Sudden cold feet, he can't just say it. If it was actually Jack, sure, of course. He could tell him to never call him anything but "Mr. Strongfork, Kind of ATLAS" and so much more. But Tim? Telling him to stop that opens up a whole host of extra questions...doesn't it? Questions better left unasked.

Rhys leads, they've got a bit of a walk to the storage facility. He hasn't spent a lot of time in there, or any really, but he knows it's pretty big, with aisles they can hunker down in and crack open Tim's bottle. ]

Well, yeah. The whole bludgeoning things was supposed to lead into getting out of here. It just, a lot of things didn't go as planned. Besides, it was months ago.

[doppleman]

[ It's a pretty nice ship. A lot about Helios had been cutting edge for its time, but Jack had definitely made sacrifices to comfort and aesthetics where they were sure to not affect him in any meaningful way. An uncomfortable employee would always be motivated to do better, work harder, that was his logic, and although Tim really hates to admit it the Hyperion workforce never really proved him all that wrong.

They'd been so sure that the weakness lay solely with themselves. That Jack's position was something worth aspiring to instead of the origin of their hardships. They were all so sure.

Tim scoffs, only half at Rhys and his defense. ]

Wai-wait, so, am I getting this, you tried t—you, out of the clutches of these guys, who can, uh... pluck you from where you were in time and space on a friggin' whim, you decided it was a good idea to brute force your way to...? To what, even, freedom?

[ While his tone is pessimistic to be sure, it's not... totally mocking. A part of him is genuinely curious. ]

Do you even know where we are?

[ It's a big af six galaxies. ]

[smugreport]

Yeah? It sounded better in theory, okay? Everyone on this ship was new, so no one knew the rules. It was worth a shot.

[ It wasn't, really. Not for all the inconveniences that came in its wake, all the effort he'd had to put into the fallout. But he's not going to confess that in front of a person he barely knows, and the face only drives his heckles up higher. ]

Almost at the center axis. Haven't you been here over a month? I know the ship is too big but it's not that big.

[doppleman]

[ Should Rhys look back, he'll find Tim's expression is very much ha ha. ]

Was sooorta more concerned about where we are in, you know, space. But, uh. Yeah, y'know, I've been... through... this way. Before.

[ The transition from the outer wings to the center axis and vice versa is, how do you say, no bueno. ]

I've kind of got this thing about heights, so I mean...

[ Tim frowns a little. When they pass through a corridor lined with windows he follows his own reflection as they walk, halfway looking through himself to the stars outside. ]

Used to, anyway. Kinda thought I was over it.

[ Why now? Of all places, of all times? ]

Guess not, though.

[smugreport]

I know you made a [ rude ] jab about how I wasn’t Hyperion enough for your liking, but have you looked in the mirror?

[ No wait ]

…there was probably a better way to phrase that. My point is you’re just telling a guy you barely know your mortal weaknesses right out the gate. That’s like, text-book no-no number one.

[doppleman]

[ A weirdly mild chuckle. Implicit threats must really take him back. ]

Yeah? Ahah, 'cause what, what're you gonna do, kiddo, space me? Y'know, you watch it happen up close enough times and you actually start to get a feel for what you should do. Like, how you could try and squeak out of a "certain death" scenario.

Or take someone with you.

[ It's not identical, but for a very brief moment nonetheless, an unmistakable shade of Jack creeps into his tone. The one where it's like something's funny, but there's nothing funny. ]

I-I dunno what made me think of that, I just thought it was interesting.

[ If he's being realistic, he'd probably fuck it up somehow. The "watched it happen up close," part, though, that's completely true. ]

Anyway, why even entertain all that? We're buds now! Or, y'know, will be, after working together for the greater good... of getting blasted on outerworld moonshine.

[ Did they already cross into the axis, or is it still coming? Did he just not notice? The thing is, he's been distracted ever since Rhys brought up his Hyperion jab, because— ]

...And I meant it as a complimentary thing, by the way. Not being Hyperion enough is pretty much only a good thing in my book. I mean, look who's left.

[ Relieved: ]

Well, y'know, normally I'd probably point out examples, but it sounds like no one is left.

[ He's reconsidering. ]

Kinda hoping that voiceover lady made it, though. She had a tough gig.

[smugreport]

[ The tone shift, the vague threat, those bring Rhys's heckles right back up. ]

Right. Buds.

[ And there's something...off, in his tone as Rhys's thoughts are teleported back to nearly a year ago. Him and Jack's ghost sitting atop the moving caravan in the freezing cold as Jack went over their exploits back in the Atlas bunker. He'd laid it on real thick, but Rhys was too deep to notice or question it. A couple of compliments was all it took to distract him from the fact that Jack had nearly turned Vaughn and the others into swiss cheese. He'd been so stupid.

With that in mind he's dismissive of the rest of what Tim has to say, especially the apparent compliment. His brow only creasing slightly at the mention of there being no survivors.

Is it possible to be scared and depressed at the same time? It's giving his adrenal glands total whiplash.

He lets a loud sigh out as they hit the central axis and its branching hallways, trying to let go of the pent up jitters and annoyance he's feeling, before taking a left. ]

It's over here.