Shelia Cholico
Period 8
12/14/21
Excerpt 1: A Change of Plans (part 1)
A rusted cargo airship puttered through the sky of Oceito, weaving its way around bigger vessels as it sped across the grassy expanse below. Inside the airship, a small desk lamp illuminated an even smaller rock gnome as he leaned over his dented metal work desk. His dark hair was mussed and tangled as if he’d just rolled out of bed, yet he was dressed in a heavy winter coat and boots. Glints of light reflected off of his goggles, dancing across the Mithral ceiling above him. His calloused fingers moved deftly across a scrap of brown paper as the airship swayed slowly. The low putter of an engine and the soft hum of a handmade music box were the only noises keeping him company. But he was used to the silence by now; it came with the job.
As if on cue, a loud ringing filled the room, breaking the blanket of silence he had gotten so accustomed to. The gnome jolted, almost dropping the piece of paper in his hands. He had neatly folded into a paper crane, the wings stretched outwards across the creases of his palm. He shot up from his desk, scurrying across the room to answer an old rotary telephone sitting on a crooked bookshelf. The man answered the phone quickly, the crane still clutched in his right hand.
“Hello?” The gnome cleared his throat, adjusting his voice after days of not using it. He spoke with a slight gnomish accent, but it was clear he had become accustomed to speaking in common tongue. There was muffled chatter on the other end of the line, and the gnome began rummaging in the pockets of his overalls, pulling out a heavily creased document. He spread it across the bookshelf, running his hands across the folds in an attempt to smoothen it out.
“Yeah, I got it right here.” He said, and the chatter on the other end resumed as he moved the document onto the table next to the bookshelf. He grabbed a mechanical pen from a pocket inside his coat, and began signing his name onto it. The name “Bartholomew Gallo” was clearly legible across the printed section for the signature.
“Mhm, got it. I’m five minutes away.” The gnome answered, distracted as he picked the crane back up. The person on the other end seemed satisfied with this, and a muffled goodbye could be heard on the other end.
“Yeah, see you soon.” He hung the phone up with a click, turning his attention back to the origami he had made. He lifted the crane and drew some symbols across the wings, his pen moving fluidly across the surface. The symbols were indecipherable, though they appeared to be a series of meticulously drawn glyphs. He cupped the crane in his palm, leaning forward and tapping the wings with 2 of his fingers. After a moment’s pause, the wings of the crane began to move on their own, lifting its body off his hand and into the air. He grinned as the crane flew in circles around his head, moving as if it had a mind of its own. He reached a hand out again, and the crane fluttered gently back into his palm. He placed the now immobile crane back on the table gently.
Destination Reached. A high pitched, robotic voice grabbed his attention as he set the mechanical pen back in its original spot. The voice resembled that of a young child, and it spoke in quick cheerful chirps. The gnome turned to his left, leaning down to grab the handle of the hatch next to him. With some effort, he heaved the door open with a thud, resting the top against the wall behind it. He climbed down through the opening, dropping into the room below him, which appeared to be the ship’s cockpit.
What was strange about the cockpit was its lack of a pilot. The console was glowing softly, it’s surface smooth and devoid of switches or buttons. The steering wheel of the ship was moving, yet no one was piloting the airship. This didn’t seem to phase the gnome, as he buckled himself into a small chair at the front near the console. He spent a moment raising the chair, which was almost comically small compared to the console. After he finished, he reached up and pressed his hand against a screen above him, which was covered in intricate patterns and glyphs. At his touch, the symbols sprang to life, glowing a faint orange as they weaved around his fingers, forming the outline of a hand.
Autopilot disengaged. Welcome back, Barty. The entire ship’s console shifted, as the gnome, now known as Barty, grabbed the steering wheel. Buttons and switches sprang up seemingly out of nowhere, populating the console surface. Barty reached across the console and flipped two switches on, which caused the ship to emit a low whirring noise. The noise didn’t seem to phase him as he focused his attention on the view ahead of him.
Outside the window, the city of Singapore was becoming visible, expanding as the vessel got closer and closer to its destination. Singapore was a lengthy, leveled ship; one of the more developed mobile cities that stood in the land of Oceito. Despite being early morning, the city was already bustling with activity, ships weaving in and out of its ports. Barty began steering the ship towards the first level of the ship, where the outlines of a landing port were visible from afar. There were a couple ships on the landing dock already, but most of the incoming ships were just arriving.
As he got closer, a wide passenger ship merged in front of him, heading towards the south end of the city. Barty groaned, trying to see around the huge aircraft with no success. After checking for other airships, he quickly passed the ship on the right, zipping past it. He steered his own ship towards a marked area, which was labeled as Cargo ship: temporary parking on the ground. He landed the ship with a precision that came from years of flying, quickly unstrapping his seatbelt once he was on the ground. He hopped out of the pilot’s seat, opening the door that led to the cargo bay behind him.
The cargo bay of the ship was packed with crates of various sizes, with small trinkets filling both walls of the ship. As he walked down the bay, he ran his hands across the crates, taking a mental inventory of which items he needed to unload onto the dock. Once he neared the end of the bay, he pressed a big orange button near the door. The sound of gears grinding filled the bay as the heavy ship doors opened with a hiss. A cold breeze hit Barty’s face, causing him to pull his fur-trim coat closer as he stepped off the aircraft.
The floor was damp from the light snowfall that had passed through the night before, and Barty stepped over a small puddle as he exited the airship. The air was frigid and thick with the smell of various engine fumes. Barty headed over to a small booth, where an elderly dwarf was sitting at a computer. The wide frame of the computer took up half of the booth, making him look comically cramped in the small space. He wasn’t a very tall dwarf, but he made up for that in weight, his bulky frame a result of years working in the booth. Everyone in the city knew him as Old Colm, and he had been working at the same booth ever since he immigrated to the city.
Barty approached Colm in a hurry, knocking on the glass loudly. The dwarf jolted, swiveling around in his chair to locate the source of the noise. His face relaxed when he spotted the gnome on the other side of the glass.
“Barty! Are ya here for yer monthly?” The dwarf called out loudly, squinting to look up at him. His voice was muffled by the glass, but he was still loud enough that his voice resonated across the mostly empty runway. This didn’t seem to phase Barty, who was used to Colm’s tendency to overproject.
“Yeah, where do I put the papers?” He pulled the folded slip of paper out of his pocket, which he had signed earlier. He pressed it up to the glass, and Colm leaned in slowly to look at it. There was a lengthy pause as he read it, before he cleared his throat and looked back up at Barty.
“You can drop ‘em off at Fafnir’s office. He told me he wants to see ya.” Colm answered, adding the last part hesitantly. Barty paused at the mention of Fafnir, folding the paper back up and putting it in his coat pocket. It was unusual for Fafnir to require Barty’s presence, but maybe there was a mixup in the shipment orders.
“Alright, I’ll go see him now. Take care Colm.” He said, waving the dwarf goodbye as he began heading in the opposite direction down the tarmac. A few more ships had pulled up behind his own, all coming to drop their own cargo off. He stepped down off of the landing strip, walking down a small path adjacent to it. There were a couple Harengon merchants making their way up the path, and Barty nodded a greeting to them as he walked by. He received a warm greeting back, one of them merchants waving a padded paw back at him. The sounds of the city became louder as he walked further down the path, integrating with the bustling foot traffic of city goers ahead of him.
The streets of Singapore were packed with creatures, every person hurrying off towards a different destination. Barty ducked under the wing of an Aarakocra guard as he chased a small halfling across the street, paying no heed to the commotion they were causing. A couple cars honked their horns as the pair ran across the street, and Barty winced as the halfling got nicked by the bumper of a wide passenger bus. If he were ten years younger, he might have stopped to make sure the halfling was okay. But he wasn’t, so he turned his head away, shimmying through the growing crowd that had formed around the commotion. He pushed past a trio of Tieflings who were blocking the staircase ahead of him, making his way up towards a large government building. At the top of the stairs, a tall metal door was swung wide open. Barty stepped inside, looking around before closing the door behind him.
The air inside the building was stagnant, filled with the smell of old documents and leatherback books. It was quite warm compared to the temperature outside, and Barty shed his jacket as he stepped further inside. There was no one behind the front desk, despite it being midday already. Barty frowned, looking around for a moment as he folded his jacket in his arms. It was unusual for the office to be understaffed, especially on a Tuesday as busy as today.
Barty ascended another set of stairs, stopping in front of two intricately carved mahogany doors. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the empty hall. There was a moment of silence, before a voice spoke up.
“Come in!” Barty took the invitation, relieved that there was someone in the building. He opened the right-side mahogany door, his hand reaching in an awkward angle to grab the doorknob. The buildings in Singapore were designed for human proportions, and Barty was reminded of that whenever he interacted with its architecture.
Inside the room, a man was sitting at a huge desk filled with documents and oddities. His feet were propped up on the desk, his foot resting against a name plate with the name Fafnir etched into it. The name plate was a standard issued company plate, the only ordinary thing in his room. The rest of the room was covered in relics, artifacts, sparkling gems, and other rarities. A large mosaic was etched into the floor below Barty, depicting a broad man fighting a large sea serpent.
Barty stepped over the mosaic, careful not to smudge any of the tiles with his dirt-covered leather boots. He turned his attention back to the man at the desk, Fafnir. His clothes were as eccentric as his office, covered head to toe in lush satin fabric and bright statement pieces. Fafnir adjusted a golden monocle that hung over his left eye. He leaned back in his chair, a cigar tucked between his pointer and middle fingers.
“Ah, Barty!” The man sat up at the sight of the gnome, putting his cigar out quickly in an ashtray shaped like a dragonborn. He leaned forward, putting his hands onto the desk in front of him. Both of his hands were covered in intricate tattoos, and he had two dragon rings twisting around each of his pointer fingers. Smoke wafted gently across the room, filling the air with the smell of Dwarvish cigar ash.
“I trust your travels were well?” He asked, crossing his hands in front of him. Barty nodded, refraining from wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell of smoke.
“Yeah, I got here early. Colm said you needed me.” Barty said, his words curt. The man grinned at Barty’s minced words, tapping the table with a ringed finger.
“Don’t be like that, Bart. Aren’t you excited to see me?” He asked, teasing. Barty flinched at the use of the name Bart. He hated when Fafnir called him that.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Fafnir. Why am I here?” Bart said, interrupting him and getting back to the point. Fafnir sighed, exhaling tendrils of smoke which curled around his face like horns.
“As you may have noticed, we’re a bit… short staffed today.” He started, speaking in a lazy drawl. He spoke with an accent that indicated that he wasn’t originally from Singapore.
“Yeah, front desk was empty.” Barty said, remembering the empty desk downstairs. Fafnir nodded, twirling his finger to point at an envelope on the edge of his desk.
“I do have your money right here…” he said, pushing the envelope forward towards Barty. Barty reached forward to grab it, but Fafnir shot his hand out and caught Barty’s wrist.
“Ah ah ah! Before I pay you, I need to ask for a favor.” Fafnir asked, but it was phrased more like an order. It must have been clear that Barty was hesitant, because Fafnir’s grip began to tighten around his wrist. His pointer finger pressed down on his arm, the mouth of the dragon ring digging into Barty’s flesh.
“Watch your grip.” Barty said in a low voice, not backing down. A gnome working in the big city gets accustomed to bigger men with bigger egos. Fafnir seemed surprised at this response, letting go of Barty’s wrist. A thick silence filled the room as both parties stared each other down.
“What’s the favor?” Barty asked, breaking the silence and adjusting the sleeve of his long sleeve shirt. Fafnir seemed to ease up at this response, his face relaxing into a smug expression again.
“We need someone to fix the fumigation system in the engines.” Fafnir informed, examining Barty’s reaction. Barty’s stomach sank at the mention of the ship’s engines. Singapore was one of the larger Mobile Cities, and their engine was constantly buzzing with activity to keep the city running. However, running an engine of that size accumulated a bit of a… rat problem. Creatures lurked in the lower engine that Barty would prefer never meeting.
“Get someone else.” Barty stated firmly, stepping back from the desk. Fafnir shook his head.
“Tomorrow is the purge day. It’s already been pushed back by a week.” Fafnir informed Barty. The purge day, as Fafnir called it, was an event that happened every couple of months in the engines. Toxic gas would be released from the fumigation systems to kill any monsters lurking below the city.
“You didn’t send anyone earlier?” Barty asked.
“Well… the last guy didn’t come back.” Fafnir admitted. He didn’t seem too phased by his remark, but Barty withdrew with a look of slight horror.
“And you’re sending me down now?” Barty exclaimed.
“I’ll double your payment.” Fafnir offered, reaching into his desk and pulling out another envelope, sliding it next to the original one. Barty hesitated, doing the math in his head. He could use the money. The amount of gold Fafnir was offering was more than he would make in the next four cities on his route combined. That was enough to pay for ship repairs and live comfortably for a month.
“It’s double or nothing, Barty.” Fafnir pressed, splaying one hand out in front of him on the desk. Barty glanced down at the envelopes, before sighing loudly.
“What do you want me to fix?” He asked, giving in. He hated working for Fafnir, but this was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Fafnir grinned at his response, clearly relieved that Barty had accepted it.
“We need you to fix the dispenser that holds the gas in the left wing of the engine. It should be a big red container.” He informed Barty, and he nodded slowly.
“I’ll send someone to take care of the monster problem while you work. You should go now, while the sun is still out.” Fafnir added. It was clear that Fafnir had expected Barty would accept. Barty exhaled through his nose, nodding.
“Alright. Anything else I need to know?” He asked. Fafnir thought for a moment before speaking up again.
“Yes. Speak to the priest in Sage’s Temple once you’re done. He has an artifact that I’d like you to take a look at for me.” Fafnir informed Barty. Barty nodded, a bit annoyed that his route was being disrupted this much. He estimated that at this rate, he’d be leaving Singapore in the early evening.
“Right. I’ll be heading out then.” Barty said in a neutral tone. If Fafnir wasn’t his boss, he might have added a few more snippy statements, but he couldn’t risk losing his job in Singapore.
“Great! Good luck. May the gods be in your favor.” Fafnir said, with a smile that didn't meet his eyes. Barty simply nodded, not wanting to waste more breath on Fafnir. He feared that if he spoke again, something unprofessional might come out. The last thing he needed was to lose another job. He turned back towards the double doors again, slipping his jacket on as he went through them. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
