…when the gift giving is complete, you head back up the ladder and to your parents small apartment. Other than the bow, the articles you have been given appear old and worn. Even though the armor is of excellent make, it has a weathered look to it and easily passes for common make. You feel confident that you would not draw any unwanted attention should you suddenly appear aboard firedrake in your new attire. It is not uncommon for slaves serving aboard ship to own used suits of armor. This is even more true where captain Shartak is concerned. He takes particular care of his crew, dragonborn and human alike. The one exception is the cloak. Your mother cautions you. Do not don the cloak until you have made good your escape. It distorts your appearance from a distance and that could make your crew mates suspicious.

Your plan is to remain with your parents until you are to report for duty in the morning, but you are foiled by a late night knock on the door. It turns out to be a messenger from Firedrake. You are to report immediately for special duty. The ship leaves as soon as all hands are accounted for.

Gathering up your gear, you say good bye to your parents. Your mother holds you just a little longer than normal, and your father clasps your arm firmly…each in an attempt to hold you for just a moment longer. If your plans succeed you have now way of knowing whether any of you will see each other again. Tears flow openly down their cheeks as you head down the stairs to the street below. As you turn the last corner, passing out of view of your parents home, you hear your mother shout your name one last time. Steeling yourself, you continue through the dark, empty streets.

The docs are a buzz of activity. Firedrake is making ready as you expected, but she is not alone. Holding position a few hundred yards out are five other ships. Three corvettes, one frigate and a man o war. Your sharp eyesight can make out their standards at a distance, even in the dim light. It is around 2 in the morning. You make your way aboard Firedrake…

to be continued

Once aboard you move below decks to your usual berth. You find your three companions, Cherta the pretty blond of about 20, known for her acrobatic talent, Jonah the gangly 14 year old with the curly red hair…and Beren, a dark haired boy of about your age. They each greet you in turn and quiz you on your time at home, asking about your parents and things of that nature. Your conversation is cut short when the first mate barks out the command “all hands on deck!” You rush up onto the main deck along with the rest of the crew to hear the captains commands.

“The hunt is on!” Shouts the captain. “We have been ordered to attempt to lure these rebels out into the open. While we make way south below the cloud layer, Gorgon and her escorts will stay within the clouds and await a signal flare if and when the rebels make an appearance.” Gorgon is a massive first rate Man o War boasting well over 120 guns. Her captain, Caranak is known as a ruthless and methodical commander who rules his ship like a tyrant.

Before long you are underway and the Firedrake descends to about 100 feet and heads south.

You consider your plan….depending on your duties, it will probably not be too difficult to end up in the engine room. As for flammable materials…there is plenty.

The propulsive force for the dragonborn cannons is provided by a dried root native to the home world. (I will detail this in a wiki). The root is violently explosive when contacted with flame. It is chopped into small particles and then packed loosely into small pouches of a thin, flammable cloth. Cannonroot, as it is called, gives off an oily, sulfurous smell when it is cut open. This makes it easy to tell when someone has been aboard ship since the odor clings to hair and clothing.

Barrels of the stuff are stored throughout the ship. The barrels are coated with a fire resistant resin which is very slow to burn. The dragonborn learned long ago not to store all of their cannonroot in one place so they keep it dispersed evenly across their vessels.

Cherta is a free spirit and definitely the risk taker of the three. You feel that she is the most likely to be supportive of your plan. Beren has always been a friend, but you suspect he may be too entrenched in his loyalty to the dragonborn. You don’t think you can trust him with this.

Whatever you decide, you realize that you may only have a matter of a few hours before it is time to act. Firedrake is underway! The captain starts barking orders and you are commanded below to help ready the cannons. Luckily, Cherta has the same duty. You head below, to the gundeck, where preparations are being made. The dragonborn soldiers go about their duties without paying you, or any of the other humans, much attention. When you are sure you are not being observed, you pull Cherta aside. What do you say?

Cherta looks at you with a slight smile on her face. For a moment you think she is going to laugh at you. Suddenly she throws her arms around your shoulders and whispers in your ear. “I thought you might be up to something when you lied to the captain.” Your eyes widen. How could she know? “Whatever your plan is Fal, I’m with you.” She interrupts the question you are about to ask. “We’ll have time to talk more once we succeed. What have you got in mind?”