Realmspace...
Silently, above the world of Toril, a hammership lazily circled the planet, as it had done for several months. The Eternal Wanderer was trapped...
The captain's room was dead silent. At his desk, captain Onestar's face was buried in his hands. On a sprawling chair near the port hole was first mate Hall-ee-mor Dargess. The bard was staring out the port hole, with no expression on his face. On the sofa opposite the desk was Pascal the Arcane, obvoiusly exhausted and at wit's end. After a few moments, Onestar lifted his head.
"What do you mean you can't fix the helm?" he asked quietly.
"Just that, " the arcane replied. "It needs a new SLIP line, and there isn't one of those between here and Crystalspace! I tried tinkering with it, but nothing worked."
"Hall?" Onestar asked, "you mentioned something about finding a Bardic Helm?"
"Allready on it," the bard replied. "Illeria!" he called. A few moments later a dark skinned woman appeared in the door.
"It's time for some shopping. Take the shuttle and land outside of Waterdeep. Then, follow these instructions, and mind you, no theatrical landings," Hall said, handing the woman a slip of paper.
"Yes sir," the woman replied, obviously dissapointed.
Onestar, the samurai who commanded the great hammership, stood on the deck of the ship. Hall had sent one of the crew down to Toril to retrieve a bardic helm, something the captain was familiar with but never saw. Once he saw it, however, Onestar was speechless.
"This...this is a helm?"
"Something, isn't it, old friend?" Hall replied. He looked over the helm, something like a cross between a musical instrument and a normal helm, as Hall caressed it gently.
"And how much, pray tell, will this set us back?"
"Actually," Pascal the Arcane replied, also noting the craftsmanship, "these helms are comparable with what I was sponsoring. Of course, if you don't have a bard on board, you go nowhere fast..."
"Let's talk price, Hall," Onestar commented. The Bard of Wildspace then produced a bill of fare from his pocket. The samurai's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He started to say something, but then just as quickly closed it.
"By the Celestial Emperor, this one had better work. Get Ville and the others downstairs and begin installing it, and from now on, there is a standing rule on this ship. No Gnomes whatsoever will be permitted withing fifty feet of the helm! Any caught near it will be loaded into a crossbow and shot off into space."
With that, Onestar turned and made his way back to his quarters. Most of the cursed paperwork he had to finish had been completed, but some remained. One of the crew later commented they could hear him say as he walked away...
"We couldn't have gotten a Ki Helm. No. We had to get a pipe organ on stilts."
The big blue giant was sulking in his corner.
"My beautiful helm..," he moaned, "still broken... can't fix it... I've let everyone down..."
Suddenly, someone came in to his room without knocking; he lifted his head, stared at the human for a few seconds and asked in an annoyed tone:
"What is it?"
"We've completed the installation of the bardic helm, sir."
"And, does it work?"
"I wouldn't know, sir, we haven't tried it. We were only contracted to install the thing, so we..."
"I'll come and have a look."
"Thank you, sir. We've also informed the other officers." And with that, the human walked out.
"Well, time to pick up your courage and go face all the others" thought Blaise, "Maybe I can still be of some use on this ship. Time to move on."
The hammership bobbed peceafully in a lagoon somewhere on Toril. Captain Onestar looked at the trees beyond and enjoyed the smell of the ocean close by. It was strangly refreshing to be on a planet again, and breath real air. He also knew that after a few days he would be longing for the stars again... So far, the new helm was performing well, except for some strange feedback to the planetary locator and the evermap.
"Captain?" Blaise called, "are you up there?"
"On the aft castle!" the samurai called back. "Any luck on that feedback?"
"Indeed!" the arcane answered. He was wearing a set of coveralls, carrying a set of tools, and wearing a strange helmet called a "hard hat."
"The feedback was coming from an imbalance in the spelljamming field generated by the helm. The imbalance was causing the field to double back on itself and alter the functions of other magical devices."
"OK..." Onestar answered. "Can you fix it?"
"Certainly. All I have to do is adjust the flux modulator leading to the tridilian stabailzers on the base of the helm!'
"... how long will that take?" Onestar asked, hesitatingly.
"Just a few hours. It's a common problem with new helms. It's like breaking in a new pair of boots."
"Carry on then," Onestar said, obviously releaved. He resumed looking at the jungle on the shore, and noticed Phantom and two other crewman emerge with a fresh catch from their hunting trip. Real food, he thought.
Hall-ee-mor Dargess, the Bard of Wildspace, looked out the window of his quarters at the sunlight outside. Toril was a pleasent world, but soon they would be returning to space. Hall had spent the morning interviewing six young bards who had applied for crew openings on the ship. Having other bards on board would simplify running the helm, so Hall was happy to speak with them.
Sadly, four of the bards were unsuitable to work as healmsman. Running a helm required a certain presence of character that included the ability to fly headlong into death should the need arise. The healmsman was ultimately responsible for the lives of every being on the ship, and many are simply not cut out for this responsibility.
One of them, a drow elf named Damian Josh however, was never in question. The drow had flead his underground homeland because he refused to accept their corrupt ways. Instead of submitting, he risked death and flead. Such guile is useful in any circumstance, including guiding a hammership through a pack of Mindspiders. His only request was that he remain below deck during daylight hours. The drow was allready settling down in the men's barraks below.
Another bard, a woman named Eloelia was also selected. She knew how to take advantage of a situation that looked hopeless, and had a very quick mind. This would also be useful. However, she did have one practice that troubled the Bard of Wildspace...
"I understand your voice is very popular with nobility and wealthy freemen?" he asked.
"Indeed," she said, her voluptious body lounging on the sofa. "I frequently get requests from the wealthy and powerful. They enjoy my company," she said with a grin.
"Do tell?" Hall asked. "If they enjoy your singing so much, why would you want to leave Toril and fly around on a spelljammer?"
"Well, I'm ready for something new," she said.
"Something new? Like a place where scorned men are not searching for you with small armies, to settle an issue of promices made and never kept?"
Eloelia began to figit, suddenly very embarassed.
"Something new, like a place where finding you would be difficult? Where no one knows who you are? Where you can make a clean escape, and a new start? Someplace like Wildspace...?"
Eloelia drooped her head and looked at the floor.
"You're good," she said softly.
"A word to the wise: You can't out-rogue a rogue. But, you have the good sence to know when to call it quits. I've known many who never learned that lesson. Most of them are dead now."
Hall paused, allowing the human woman to take in his words. After a few moments he smiled and spoke.
"Welcome aboard. I'm sure space sailors will enjoy your voice as much as nobility."
Eloelia brightened and smiled.
"Thank you sir! Shall I select a bunk and locker?"
"Certainly, in the woman's barraks. But first, about that new start. I understand you keep a book of your 'contacts?'"
The woman sighed, and from a pocket in her dress, withdrew a black book. She placed it on Hall's desk and started to walk out. Hall cleared his throut and outstretched his palm. The woman gave him an annoyed look, and from a fold in her boot withdrew a scroll. Hall put the scroll on the desk, and presented his palm again. From her bosom she withdrew another book, much smaller than the first. Again Hall's palm went forth. Slowly, she withdrew a hair pin. Wrapped around the pin was another small scroll, written in tiny script.
"You're very good," she said, with a sarcastic smile. At that she walked out and started for the woman's barraks.
Almost immediately, Onestar entered and looked at the collection of objects on Hall's desk. He pointed a questioning finger at them.
"Rogue stuff," Hall said. "She'll learn."
"I should hope so. We can't have her picking the crew's pockets at every opportunity," the samurai commented.
"She's too scared for that at the moment. She's just too proud to admit it."
"How can you be sure?"
"Rogue stuff," Hall answered with a sly smile. After a few moments his smile faided slightly. "I was the same way once," he added.
"Ah, her manner reminds you of how you once were?"
"Yes... And her appearance reminds me of someone I knew..."
Suddenly the bard was distant and detached. Onestar had never seen him like this before, and was puzzled.
Onestar stood alone on the bridge. He looked calm, although all could tell that he was getting nervous over the new helm. He looked around and saw Blaise Pascal, the Arcane merchant who sold them the old Nextasy Helm, wander nearby.
The samurai looked at him for a second. His eyes narrowed onto the tall blue man. Onestar then turned toward one of the crew and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Phantom," Onestar spoke in flawless common, revealing just the hint of an oriental accent, "take over for me here. I shall return shortly."
Onestar left the bridge and took a few steps to join the Arcane near the rail.
"Greetings, Blaise," Onestar started, his voice calm as always. "Something seems to trouble you. Is there something you wish to talk about?"
"Captain Onestar, I have failed you. My helm, my glorious helm, has failed. I am Arcane; I am only as good as the product I sell."
"One would argue that, my friend," Onestar commented. He turned and looked out over the lagoon. "If there is one thing we have learned in our voyages, Hall and I, is that everything has a purpose."
"Perhaps you have just not found yours yet. I think you may have another though." The samurai turned back and faced him. "Will you join this crew, full time, as my Second Mate?"
Blaise's eyes widened. Obviously stunned, he did not know what to say. Never in all the recorded deeds of Wildspace had an Arcane been crew on a non-Arcane ship.
Until now.
"I accept," he said and offered a six-fingered hand as proof.
Onestar shook it and bowed slightly. "Go below and see if Hall and Ville need assistance adjusting the helm."
"Aye, aye, captain." Blaise then turned away and walked with a new strength, a new purpose. Onestar stood there a few seconds longer, first at the disappearing Arcane, then back at the void. A minute later, he returned to the bridge to resume his post.
All was quiet aboard the hammership Eternal Wanderer. Onestar, the samurai captain of the ship, stood in the bridge, watching as the dragonfly detached the moorings it used to tow the ship back into the spacelanes.
For far too long, the ship was docked planetside. The great Nextasy Helm, the wondrous creation of Blaise Pascal, the Arcane member of the crew, had failed them. After careful inspection, Pascal determined what had caused his helm to break down.
"Gnomes," he said, and that one word spoke volumes.
Hall-de-mor Dargass, the Bard of Wildspace, had come up with an alternate plan. He knew of a place in Waterdeep where he could...purchase a Bardic Helm. With permission of the captain, Hall acquired such a helm, and had it installed.
Now was the time of the test. Hall stood in the helm room, Pascal at his side to make certain the new helm would function properly. Above them, Onestar watched as the last of the lines were removed.
"Gentlemen," the samurai called, "we are ready whenever you are."
Hall nodded, and sat down in the chair. The helm began to glow a soft blue light, as his senses expanded. Blaise checked a device he kept with him, looking at it then at Hall.
A heartbeat later, the ship began to move.
From all the decks, a loud cry of joy could be heard. Onestar stood and merely bowed his head slightly. He gently slapped one of the crew on the back as he walked over to the speaking tube.
"We appear to be moving, Hall," Onestar said, although he knew the Bard would hear him. "How does she handle?"
"A little choppy, but nothing we can't work out. Right, Blaise?"
The Arcane checked his instruments once more. "Operating at about 75 Percent efficiency. Well within normal parameters. We've got a working helm here, captain."
"Excellent! Then take us once around the sphere and shake the dirt from our feet, what do you say?"
Seconds later, the hammership Eternal Wanderer moved away from the Tears of Selune, out into the darkness of Wildspace. Returning home once more.
Above deck, two bells rung out. It was the middle of the "night", or at least the nightcrew were on deck. The ship was running smooth. There were still a few more hours to go before Alpha watch had to go back to duty.
Pascal was on the bridge, watching everything carefully. Hall was sleeping, but soon found himself woken by one of the primal forces of nature: he was hungry. A late-night raid of the pantry was in order.
The new chef was a halfling, and a fine one at that. True, like many ships they had the Everlasting Barrel of Salt Pork, but they used that in times of emergency only. The captain believed in a stocked larder, and the food was always top quality.
On his way to the mess hall, he passed the captain's quaters. The door was (as usual) ajar, and Hall noticed a lantern still lit on the desk. He looked inside and noticed Onestar, the paperwork now all finished, asleep at his desk.
Hall entered quietly, walked over to the desk, and blew out the light. He smiled. It was good to see his friend rest finally.
Hall sat in the galley of the ship, still half asleep, slowly working on a piece of fruit. He would be taking the helm in about an hour, and he was doing his best to wake up. After a few minutes he sat by the portal to get a clear view of the spectacular Galleon Nebulea. Suddenly he heard a commotion from the helm room. He sprang to his feet and started running for the fore castle.
When he got there, he saw Blaise holding a gnome in the air by his belt, and issuing questions to a dwarf who was looking at the helm. Damian was on the helm, and he looked like he was ready to kill the gnome. Blaise noticed Hall and walked over to him, still holding the gnome.
"Meet Zebart," the Arcane grumbled. "He decided to 'improve' the helm."
"AllIwantedtodowas..." the gnome started.
"I don't want to hear it!" Hall barked. After a few minutes he regained his composure. "A gnome tried to 'improve' our last helm, and ended up destroying it!" he added.
Blaise was giving the gnome an icy look that would have frightened a beholder.
"What should we do with him?" Hall asked Blaise.
"Well," the Arcane said softly,"there is a little matter of..." At that the arcane bent over and whispered the rest of his sencence in Hall's ear. Hall nodded in approval, and looked at the gnome.
"You're luckey that the captain is sleeping. He would have used his katana to make certain that you never have children."
The gnome turned pale white.
"The helm's OK," the dwarf said in a husky voice.
"Lucky for you," Blaise said to the gnome. "As a warning, you will be assigned maintenance duty."
"Yessir!Noproblem!I'llhavethedeckshininginnotime!Yessir!" the gnome said excitedly.
"Deck?" Blaise asked. "You will spend the next eight hours scraping space barnacles off the bottom of the hull!"
Two fighters appeared and escorted the gnome out.
"When we reach Krynnspace, perhaps we should 'accidently' leave the gnome behind?" Hall inquired.
"That would be so tragic," Blaise said sarcastically.
Onestar reached the bridge, refreshed and relaxed. It was the first night of true sleep he had in many a night, even if it was at his desk. He'd spent many a night sleeping on hard soil to enjoy such a comfort.
The bridge was quiet. Gamma shift had not left yet, and alpha shift wasn't set to start for about a half-hour. The samurai saw Blaise and Hall standing there talking to a Gnome. He decided he didn't want to know what was going on. Deciding to use discresion as the better part of valor, he left and decided to look at the stars surrounding them.
The samurai walked out onto the open deck, enjoying the warmth of Realmspace. A warmer sphere than his own, it felt nice. Onestar looked over the constellations, knowing that they may well be living beings, waiting to change their shape depending on the will of the gods or the intervention of man.
Off in the distance, he notices a flicker of light which seemed to move. Taking a scrying glass (a gift from Blaise that let his see for some distance) from his belt, he strained to see what it might have been.
The lens did it's job. Off in the distance, he saw a pack of delphinoids "swimming" in wildspace. A smile crossed the samurai's lips. A good sign, he thought, and then turned to go back to the bridge.
He was content. Relaxed, Onestar didn't even notice the two guards dragging a Gnome away.
"Everyone stay quiet about Zebart," Hall said to the bridge crew. "I'll tell him—later." Hall was still half asleep (he admits to not being a morning person), but he had a few of his wits intact.
Blaise resumed his post, relieved that he would not have to repair the helm.
"Alpha shift in twenty minutes" the arcane said into the speaking tube. Onestar walked onto the bridge, eager to start a new day.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, how was gamma shift?" he asked.
The bridge crew cast nervous glances at one another. Before things became to tense, Hall handed a small scroll to Onestar.
"Blaise showed me this a few minutes ago. The message arrived via hummerfly about three hours ago."
Onestar read the note, and the smile ran from his face. The arcane known as Te-Es'Arr had rejected the samurai's formula for a psionic powered helm, and refused to develop it, despite the demonstrated usefulness of such a device.
Blaise gave Onestar a comforting smile.
"He does that all of the time. He's known for rejecting quality products, preferring to go with flashy, poorly-designed products that sell fast and high. Sadly, he and his gang have a lock on many types of spelljamming materials, such as guidebooks and maps."
Disgusted, Onestar shoved the scroll into his pocket. Damn it, I'll develop the thing myself, he said to himself.
"Now, what was that gnome doing on the bridge?" he asked. He decided he had best find out, even though he knew he would regret it.
Blaise and Hall glanced at each other for a few seconds. Damian, still on the Helm, almost spoke before the drawven mechanic stepped on his foot.
"He came to receive his shift orders," Hall said with a smile. "He's doing maintenance work."
Onestar could hear scraping from the bottom of the ship. At the same time he noticed the dwarf making some minor adjustments to the helm. As a frown slowly came across his face, everyone on the bridge quickly scurried out. After all, gamma shift was over.
Several days had passed since the hummerfly dropped off a message for Onestar. Since that time, no one had spoken to him, or seen him for that matter. He spent most of the time in his office, only appearing for meals and the whatnot.
When the hammership reached The Garden, Onestar went ashore. It was known to all that he would only leave the ship on rare occasions, and only when forced. Yet, after it was docked and taxes were collected, Onestar was the first off the ship. Blaise Pascal, the Arcane Second Officer, was the last to speak to him.
"I'm going ashore for a while. See to everything here, will you?"
"Of course...Onestar" The samurai was halfway down the walkway before he could finish.
It was three hours later when he returned, but he was not alone. Two others, an elven female and a human male, followed him. Hall and Blaise were on the foredeck when he returned. The pair headed for the ramp as Onestar reached the top.
"Gentlemen," Onestar began, his very slight Oriental accent gone for the moment, "let me introduce you two new members of the crew. The lady is Crystal Ravenheart. She is a capable bard who I met in one of the clubs here. She expressed an interest in leaving when she heard we had a bardic helm."
"And where did she hear this?" Hall asked, a slight look of suspicion in his eyes.
Crystal's eyes widened. "Word travells fast. A ship here yesterday mentioned you were coming..and you had a bardic helm. I've been here for too long, I need a change."
Onestar nodded his agreement. "I shall vouch for her, and for...my new associate here." The man nodded. Onestar looked around, and saw Ville coming on deck.
"Ville, please show the lady to her quarters and get her set up. I'd like to leave here within one hour. Inform all hands we are departing."
"Aye, captain." Ville then led Crystal below deck, while Onestar and the man walked away.
"Gentlemen, will you please join us?" Onestar was already making his way toward his cabin before Hall and Blaise could catch up.
"Any idea what he's doing?" Blaise asked. "You've known him longer."
"He has his moments when he gets...mysterious. Anything could happen. Last time he tried this, we ended up fighting a dragon."
They entered his cabin. Onestar motioned for them to shut the door and come inside.
"Gentlemen, forgive my...manner. My friend has a secret he would like to hide." He turned to the man beside him. "Go ahead. Show them. You can trust them."
The man nodded, and his image began to change. The lines on his face became blurred as his body was covered in a mist. When the mist passed, he was no longer a man. There was now a Mind Flayer in their mist. Hall reached for his weapon, while Blaise reached for something on his belt.
"Gentlemen," Onestar said, his deep voice booming with authority, "this man is not only my guest, he is my friend. I'm sure you've heard of him. He was there when the Spelljammer sphere was formed. His name is Estriss."
"Estress?" Hall asked? "Yes, I have heard of you, and I must say that this is an honor." He extended his hand, and the Illithid shook it with a gloved, four fingered-hand.
"As it is for me," Blaise added, putting away what appeared to be a small pistol.
"Please forgive my manner, Estress, I'm a little on edge at the moment," Hall said quietly. "We actually met once, though I doubt you remember it. You gave a talk on the Spelljammer at the port of Athenar, about a year ago?"
The Illithid paused, then nodded.
*I recall the engagement, and your face does look familiar now. I'm afraid I only know you by reputation. I would like to read from your collection of folklore.*
"Certainly. Excuse me, please."
Blaise began to talk with the Illithid, while Hall went over to speak with the captain.
"When did you meet him?"
"It would take a while to explain, but first, what's troubling you?" Onestar asked.
"I spoke with an old friend, earlier today, on that." Hall pointed out the portal to another ship that was docked on a nearby pier. It was a marlin-class battle cruiser, sometimes called a "Muldravian Warfish." It's markings bore the unmistakeable symbol of the Muldravian Empire, from the faraway sphere of Solaris, Hall's home sphere.
"She's a long way from home," the samurai said.
"That's the Plight of Andromeda, on a diplomatic mission to Toril," Hall said.
Onestar couldn't figure out where this was leading, and was about to ask when Hall continued.
"One of their sailors called me aboard her, with an important message for me. They just found the weck of the Rainbowfish near the Stellar Islands in Krynnspace."
Onestar remembered Hall mentioning this ship, a tradesman that had been destroyed in Krynnspace five years earlier, before he and Hall had met. He never spoke much about the ship, however...
"What of the wreck," the samurai asked softly.
Suddenly Hall's face became flush, and a look of obsession came over his eyes.
"There were no bodies on board, and a survivor was found on the Stellar Islands," he hissed. He paused a few seconds to calm down. "Do you realise what this means? The crew may have survived and escaped to the Stellar Islands...! That could include the healmsman."
Onestar was confused.
"Are you saying then, that the hea..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "By the Celestial Emperor!"
"Belieth may be alive!" Hall whispered.
The room was quiet for a few moments. Pascal looked over to the pair and wondered what happened to the discussion. He looked outside a portal; Ville was passing out front.
"Ville," Pascal said. "Come inside for a moment." Once he entered, he saw the illithid, and his first instinct was a call to arms. Pascal raised his hand to calm the crewmember.
"It's all right. This is Estriss, a new member of the crew. He is the captain's assistant on the Psionic Helm Project. Please escort him to a cabin below deck.
"Aye, aye," Ville answered. He'd been with this crew long enough to know to expect the unexpected. Estriss bowed and followed Ville out. Pascal then stepped back over to Hall and Onestar.
"Is there something I should know about?" Pascal asked. Onestar looked at Hall for a few seconds more before turning his attention. "Beleith was Hall's wife," Onestar said, still looking at Hall, "but she supposedly died some time back. Someone reported seeing the crew of the ship she was on in Krynnspace."
"Ready to leave dock, captain," Hall said, his voice very matter-of- fact.
"You realise, old friend, she might not be alive," Onestar said, placing a hand on Hall's shoulder for comfort. Hall's expression did not change.
"Ready to leave dock, captain," Hall repeated. Onestar then turned and walked to the back of his cabin to a speaking tube. Touching it, a whistle could be heard through it...by magic.
"Bridge, this is the captain. Inform Beta Shift that we will be leaving within the hour."
"Aye aye, sir," a voice repiled back.
Onestar turned back to Hall. "Get some rest. You'll be needed on the helm soon enough."
"Thank you." Hall answered. He turned and walked to the door. Before he left, however, he turned back to Onestar and smiled briefly. The door closed quietly behind him.
"Pascal," Onestar said, "get Ville to take the bridge. There are a few things about this helm I'd like you to look over here with me."
"Of course, Onestar."
On the hammership, the crew was getting ready to depart. On the bridge, Onestar and Phantom were discussing personnel shifts. Below, in the helm room, Eloelia was stretching, trying to loosen up before taking the helm. Across the room, Hall was staring intently at the planetary locator, while his left hand danced wildly on an abacus, making calculations for takeoff.
Blaise boarded the ship and was greeted by one of his technicians.
"There is a minor problem with the starboard fin sir," he said.
"I'll be right there," the arcane answered as he headed for his quarters. Unlike Onestar and Hall, Blaise has divided his room with a curtain. His sleeping quarters were in the more isolated back section, while the front section served as his personal workshop. Scattered on a small workbench where the components of the Nextasy helm. It looked vaguely like a cube of smoked crystal, resting on a small porcelin box. An oddly shaped board with crypically encoded buttons lay becide the two larger sections. The porcelin box had been opened on one side, and it contained what looked like an alien mix of magical crystals and precious metals.
Blaise withdrew a small box from his belt pouch and carefully removed the contents. It contained four small strips of crystal, with precious metals imbeded in them, and what looked like a set of silver teeth along an edge of each strip.
He put the parts down with the others, and smiled at his device. Perhaps it will never again work as a helm, he said to himself, but I know I can repair it, and put it to other uses. It was designed to serve a variety of uses after all...
He lifted a small spellbook that was on a nearby chair. The title read "Repair and maintenance manual: Intel 486SX." Blaise just smiled. The book had proven usless in most cases. The fact that only a gnome could understand it wasn't a good sign, but no matter. Blaise was sure he could fix the device, and as soon as he had the time, he would. But first, there was a sail fin to deal with.
The End.
