Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Nov 12, 2013 7:11:34 GMT
OPEN TO BROTHERHOOD OF ROGUES
The only way to get up to the sky harbor platforms is via the skylift; a rotten wood pallet that was rigged with some hawser ropes running through a series of thickly greased pulleys at the top of the tower. Since the pallet is little over a meter square, lift rides tend to get a little crowded. The ropes are coated in a thick layer of dried and crusted grease from seasons past, covered by a think layer of new and wet grease from this weeks ration on the pulley wheels that the ropes run through. Most lift riders keep a hand loosely on the ropes for security, letting it run across their palm and filthy their hands. They usually know not to hold too tight or else they'll give themselves rope-burn.
Caitlin, despite her usual cleanliness and smart dress, had no such reservations about holding the line. She had gotten used to the lift ride to and from the sky vessels platforms and didn't give the grease a second thought. It was already after sundown, and the sky harbor was a ghost town. The moon offered a little light for the ride up 1600 meters into the air, and then once she neared the platforms the ships (pirate, merchant, private, and militant vessels) gave off their own light from the personnel staying on-board overnight. She strolled along between these moored to the bits and adjusted her sword on her hip. Gone were the gowns she wore at the docks all day. Not only did she not need them where they were headed, but they smelled of fish and she was happy to be out of them.
At last she approached the IRONDREAD, her flagship, and a thing of beauty. If Rava followed Harold (or his instructions) then she would be on the quarterdeck waiting for her ladyships arrival. The briefing wouldn't begin until Cait arrived. She smiled as she walked up the gangplank, thrilled at the thought of another adventure. She hoped Rava wouldn't mind if they made this one personal.
The only way to get up to the sky harbor platforms is via the skylift; a rotten wood pallet that was rigged with some hawser ropes running through a series of thickly greased pulleys at the top of the tower. Since the pallet is little over a meter square, lift rides tend to get a little crowded. The ropes are coated in a thick layer of dried and crusted grease from seasons past, covered by a think layer of new and wet grease from this weeks ration on the pulley wheels that the ropes run through. Most lift riders keep a hand loosely on the ropes for security, letting it run across their palm and filthy their hands. They usually know not to hold too tight or else they'll give themselves rope-burn.
Caitlin, despite her usual cleanliness and smart dress, had no such reservations about holding the line. She had gotten used to the lift ride to and from the sky vessels platforms and didn't give the grease a second thought. It was already after sundown, and the sky harbor was a ghost town. The moon offered a little light for the ride up 1600 meters into the air, and then once she neared the platforms the ships (pirate, merchant, private, and militant vessels) gave off their own light from the personnel staying on-board overnight. She strolled along between these moored to the bits and adjusted her sword on her hip. Gone were the gowns she wore at the docks all day. Not only did she not need them where they were headed, but they smelled of fish and she was happy to be out of them.
At last she approached the IRONDREAD, her flagship, and a thing of beauty. If Rava followed Harold (or his instructions) then she would be on the quarterdeck waiting for her ladyships arrival. The briefing wouldn't begin until Cait arrived. She smiled as she walked up the gangplank, thrilled at the thought of another adventure. She hoped Rava wouldn't mind if they made this one personal.