Chapter Text
The sound of your last shot echoes around you as the third attacker falls. What's left of his head hits the deck with a thunk that you can barely hear over the pulse thumping in your ears. You lean heavily on the small pigeon kenku, Capella, who's magic just saved you from dying, and you hear the wing beats of the large flying dinosaur above you. Its rider happened to be the one you just shot. Feeling inspired by the pigeon coos and the end of battle, you whistle for the beast, like you've seen your Pa calling for his steed so many times.
The pteranodon actually responds, tucking its wings in and diving right towards you. You stick an arm out as if you have any skills in commanding an animal and it lands in front of you, stares at you and just waits; it lets you place your hand on its beak and you grin, surprised it even worked. Capella next to you coos at it.
For a few heartbeats, there is stillness on the jet black airship as everyone stares at the fallen bodies - then a rush of movement all around you. Your kobold deputy, Tequila, runs to stand next to you, more crew start appearing on deck, and the Warforged, Wayfinder, turns on his heels and stands dutifully by the pilot. The girl you had originally pegged as just a college student - only for her to reveal she was dangerous with a dagger - spins in place as the gnome captain, Angelica, leaves her quarters, which she had ducked into as soon as the fight had started.
"Okay, what the hell was that?" the girl, Breezy, asks, towering over Angelica, her curly hair like a lion’s mane around her. She clutches her hurt side much as you are now, but it doesn't seem to impede her annoyance.
You look over your shoulder, demanding the same of your captain - what kind of leader leaves new recruits to fight their battles? Not a few hours into the Celeste Noir's maiden voyage, and the airship had been attacked by a group of Kalashtar. Angelica had immediately rushed away with nothing but a quick, "Take care of this - I'll explain later!" before dashing away.
The little group that fought crowd around her, though you stay about fifteen feet away, keeping close to the pteranodon. The captain gives a rushed story: she was a pirate back in the day and killed a member of a crew of Kalashtar who had captured her; guess the past was just catching up with her. Tequila, Wayfinder, and Capella all nod in acceptance, but you catch the eye of Breezy, sharing a look - something wasn’t quite right.
“Captain,” you hear, and look up to see more crew rounding the corner. A dwarf with a dangerous looking battle axe strapped to her shoulders skids to a halt, followed closely behind by a taller human woman. For all the excitement around you - the pain from the fight, the crew checking on the bodies, the giant bird waiting for a command next to you, Capella rushing to the bodies and plucking buttons off their coats - this human has your full attention.
In the span of the few steps it takes her to reach Angelica, you take in the way the light makes her blonde hair shine golden; the way she grips her shortsword at the ready, like a fighter; the way she stands to her full height, her expression no nonsense and steady, even in this chaos. Her armor is simple leathers, just as brown and stern as her eyes. You guess her to be about your age, or at least the human equivalent - funny, since you notice the little group that fought with you all seem to be about ten years younger than you, give or take. But, as typical for you, the true thing that stands out to you is how gorgeous she is.
She exchanges a few words with Angelica before giving a satisfied nod, looking around at the damage. She pauses, arms crossed, and stands over the one you shot. You see the way her eyes take in what’s left of him slumped by the Captain’s Quarters and you imagine she’s mentally tracking his last movements before he died. He'd been the closest to nabbing the captain but now half of his head was smeared across the door. A flash of confusion colors her steady, narrowed gaze.
“...What happened to this one? Never seen a spell do something quite like this."
Angelica shrugs, and you come out of it then, realizing most of the crew didn’t see the fight. You lift up the rifle you had been leaning your weight on like a crutch, something you’re only comfortable doing as you know this weapon inside and out, being the one who built it. “That’d be me.”
Ninety nine percent of people you encounter have never seen this weapon before, nor the pistol Tequila wields, so the blank looks they send you are expected; the slight shift to understanding when they recognize you as an Artificer is also predictable.
“Montgomery, right?” Angelica asks lightly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“See Aubrey, the sheriff took care of it,” she adds with a broad smile, before turning and striding over to the pilot like that was that.
Your eyes stay on the woman - Aubrey, apparently - who’s expression you cannot read, but you think the quirk to her eyebrow says ‘sheriff? ’ - you get that a lot too.
You feel yourself straightening to your full six and a half feet under her intense stare. "Ma'am," you say in greeting, with a weak hat tip.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity to you but was really only a few seconds, she gives you a nod - no smile, but you hear your pulse pounding in your ears again at the acknowledgement anyway. She turns, letting the crew collect the fallen bodies, but she doesn’t get far before someone stops her. There’s a small conversation, after which her eyes travel over the banged up members of the crew - you, Capella, and Breezy - before she orders another, “Get them to the Med Bay.”
You watch her go to stand behind Angelica as she talks to the pilot, and you realize this imposing woman is the first mate.
“A firearm!”
You look down and find the dwarf woman standing in front of you, looking at your rifle, her red hair held back in braids and her green eyes shining at you. “Geesh, they did a number on you, goldie. Sorry I missed the fun. Let’s get you to the Doc and you tell me all about this firearm, eh?”
In spite of yourself, you grin at her as she takes your arm and leads you off the main deck, her energy infectious. Tequila joins you and the dwarf talks just as animatedly - a second firearm! Clearly this is the ship’s gunner, Brunhilde, someone you’d been hoping to meet. You go to lift the smaller Tequila to your shoulder as you sometimes do, but your arm protests even her weight.
Another human woman places her cartographer supplies on the deck and reaches up to soothe the pteranodon as you leave. It’s about then, in a magical puff, that he shrinks down to shorter than her, and you remember oh right, pteranodons are not steeds for dragonborns such as yourself; likely he was under the effect of a potion or spell for the ambush. You make a note to check on him later, thinking how odd it was that neither Angelica or Aubrey seemed to care that you apparently claimed him.
You turn your head to get another look at the pretty first mate; she doesn’t look back.