Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Gray Katherine - Preludes #4

Gray Katherine - Preludes #4
 

It fell to Meade and Springwell to interview potential crew members and working passengers who would be taking the Gray Katherine on her route. The Falyn crystalsphere, which Thunderhead was a part of, was primarily dominated by beastfolk, which meant that a beaverkin like Springwell felt right at home. There were small enclaves of other types. There were halflings who were comfortable in the forests and rivers. Hill Dwarves being the closest to industrious folk, a human enclave that was attached to the city of Thunderhead Bay, but most of the folk who lived in the region shared the traits of beasts. Of the members that the pair interviewed, four had washed out. They lacked a certain energy or nerve that was required to serve in the rigor of Wildspace, or they were unwilling to share the burden of working a spelljamming ship and were prepared to sit in a cabin if they could, coming out only for supper or to tour the deck. A hammerhead class like the Grey Katherine was a working ship. Captain Sorenson saw to it that all passengers were treated as temporary workmen, either being paid for their work, or receiving a very low fare in exchange for working. Of three that were accepted were two beastkin and a gnome.

The first two beastkin included Jakerzet ‘Jake’ Spicer, who preferred to be called Spicer. As a beastfolk enclave, most of Thunderhead’s citizens were of the woodland variety: otterkin and beaverkin. There were ursine, also known as bearfolk, who hauled lumber and worked the docks. The Aarakocra who dwelt in Thunderhead were associated with white or brown feather eagles and hawks. Spicer stood out as a white furred catfolk wearing a weatherbeaten traveler’s hat and matching coat. A brace of pistols were prominently displayed on his belt along with his shortsword. Accompanying Jake was another beastkin that was signing up, a beaverfolk paladin named Bucky Highway.

“We don’t get a lot of paladins on our crew,” Meade noted, “Not that we engage in any acts that need a paladin’s scrutiny.”

“Completely on the up-and-up,” Springwell agreed.

Unlike the browns and tans of Spicer’s coat and hat, Bucky wore a scarlet colored cloak with a topaz clasp under his neck over a soft brown tabard. Either the paladin spent time mending his armor everyday, or he had recently stopped a mage and asked for a little prestidigitation to instantly clean his gear. It was radically different.

“Well, Kiri-Jolith is more interested in personal honor and greater justice than any minor criminality.”

“Well… that’s good,” George said, “But we are legitimate, I promise.”

“This in no way should make us appear suspicious,” Springwell said, hoping to convey good faith to a fellow beaverkin with the brighter shade of reddish-brown fur compared to the darker shade that covered Springwell’s body.

“I’m sure the accommodations will be fine,” Bucky raised his hand in assurance.

The third prospective passenger turned temporary crewmember was more of a rarity in Thunderhead than even the humans or halflings. It was a black haired gnome that had been left over from another passing ship. Springwell made a face when he looked over his batch of documents, notes he had received based on the testimony of a few trusted contacts in Thunderhead about what the Grey Katherine was taking on. Springwell spoke first: “Says here Zebart that you’ve made yourself a bit of a nuisance in town. At least one accident at a local tavern.”

“Iwastryingtomaketheirengineagas-” Zebart trailed off as Springwell hissed and flicked his fingers, trying to get the gnome to slow down. Both Meade and Springwell were aware they were dealing with not just any gnome, but a tinker gnome, off the boat and living in Thunderhead. The gnomes could jumble up their words talking so fast in order to keep up with the speed of their minds.

“I stayed and helped put out those fires,” Zebart said, “I’ve also logged in years in flight time on wildspace. I have sea legs.”

Springwell lifted one of his files and gave Meade the nod about what Zebart was saying as being true.

Meade leaned forward and said, “Nothing fancy, no tinkering unless our chief engineer gives his blessing. Understood?”

Zebart vigorously nodded his head, “Irealyapprecia-” he caught himself based on Meade’s puzzled frown, “I appreciate the pay and ride over to the Rock of Bral. I’ve been stuck here for a few years since my last ship stranded me here.” Zebart slid the chair out and saw himself to the door where one of the ship’s fighters had received the nod from Meade to open the door and let Zebart back into the hall. Another crewman was waiting to escort the gnome back to the gangplank before the gnome got any eyes to carry out.

“Maybe we could get him to look in on the ice machine,” Springwell said dryly.

“God’s wounds, am I hearing it every hour on the damn ice machine,” Meade growled, glaring at Springwell who was busy refreshing himself with a drink of water. “Do we have any more applicants out there?” Meade asked the attendant.

“None, sir,” The human fighter replied after looking out into the hall and quietly asking around.

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