"You know, I didn't always work on the docks, I sort of just ended up there," Frank explained as we walked up the long side of the main street that was facing the coast. The mix of salty sea on my right and market food on my left was enough to distract my nose from my own beer drenched self. But I still felt gross walking the town smelling like a panhandler.
"I don't imagine many dwarves work around the water," I replied half-interestedly. I was never one for small talk.
"Ah, you be stereotyping, laddy. Plenty of Dwarves are riverfolk in the southwest, we aren't all miners and blacksmiths! But yer half right, we generally don't take to the seafaring side. I got mates who build ships but never sail ‘em."
I glanced up to see Knives circling above us with my shield firmly in his talons. The glint of its surface flashed against the strong sun, like a visual reminder it was in good hands. Knives didn't trust anyone, and he was most likely watching Frank closely from the air.
"So you worked on the rivers…or?"
"Nae, I was something much more interesting than a soggy stump, throwing nets for a living."
"Listen, Frank. I'd love to sit and endure your old-man origin story, but why don't we get my two million out of the way first?" I stated with acid on my breath.
"You got some itch in yer arse, aint ya? I told ya we can't come to no prices until, I've assessed your two busted tubs, verified who ye are-"
"You've already done both of those things, Frank. Which is the reason why we're out here, instead of your office where your money and bill of sales are," I said cuttingly, halting in my tracks to stare the Dwarf down. "So why don't we cut to the part where you tell me what you want. Cause I'm selling those ships, whether it be to you or someone else."
Frank finally stopped and returned my stare square on. It felt so much like a gunslinger duel, I almost reached for the empty pocket in my new coat. Frank's face creased into a sceptical frown, as if he just saw me sprout a new arm or and was strategizing how to put me down for good. But before I could regret my outburst, the sneaky grin returned stealthily as ever, revealing a couple of mildly yellowed teeth.
"That 2 million that you're bellyaching over. What you planning to spend it on, Laddie? A new start? House and quality farmland?"
"Why would I-"
"Cause something tells me you aint gonna head back home, Mr Kingsley. Not after what they did to your town. Everyones under the sky authority ain't it? Miserable politics from the men in the clouds."
I guess he did do his homework. But truth be told, I felt embarrassed having my hometown's shitty situation told out loud to me.
"Fuck's it got to do with you, old man? I could've spawned from a pissin' cave. It's still my money! I coul-"
"You could take yer lanky arse back home, and you'd face a disciplinary for returning without the boat and crew. Whether their deaths were your fault or not, you'd be an easy blame, Sonny. And even on the meagre chance they didn't find out you sold their vessel, you'd be taxed to the pits and back once they got a whiff of your newfound wealth." Frank stroked his beard as his smirk grew again. "There's some irony in there too. You'd probably get put right back on another cargo ship…minus your fancy coat and shield, that is."
"What's that got to do with you?" I grumbled in frustration.
"Well my elders didna live in the sky like your overlords, but they sure like telling us how to live. From the wee age of 40 they already decided I should be cracking rocks in the mines like all my brothers were. Dwarven culture dictates that we complain, but fall in line. But something in me just said 'no'. I wanted something different, away from the underground or even the seas."
"A…cabin on a hill? Treehouse?" I snarked, taking a little glee in watching Frank's teeth clench.
"The sky, laddie. I was captain of my own airship. Seeker of my own destiny, servant only to the wind." Frank's voice took an a whimsical octave, as if he was quoting scripture from an elven deity.
"This is truly fascinating, Frank. But I'm still waiting for the part where your history in the sky shipping business, has anything to do with me or my money."
"I wasn't in the shipping business, son. I was a sky pirate. And instead of giving you 2 million which you'll never be able to hang on to, let alone spend. I'm offering you an opportunity to take to the sky as I did once upon a time."
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I had words but they wouldn't come out of my throat. They were stuck! The dwarf actually did it, he had me dumbfounded. I was so taken aback by this geezer's brash insanity, I was actually at a loss for one of my many infamous comebacks. Who in the hell did he think he was? Offering me to be…
"A…pirate?" I muttered out loud, almost tripping over the word, and disgusted at how intrigued I sounded saying it.
"A pirate captain, Son. Gods know you're already dressed for the part. Alls you need is an airship to call your own, which is where I come in."
I squinted, sneered and tilted my head, but I didn't speak. As much as I might have denied it, I wanted him to continue.
"Got your attention now, Lad? Good." Frank began to walk again, but not before flashing me that fucking grin.
----------------------------------------
I felt like a big fat fish on the end of a crafty fisherman's hook. That fisherman's name was Frank, or 'Ihfrane' which he revealed as his birth name soon after hitting me with his bonkers proposition. Everything I said after that was so typical I couldn't stand it 'I know nothing about ships.' 'How the hell could I stock it?' 'This is a suicidal undertaking!' So forth, so on. The more I asked discouraging questions the more I thought about it, and the more I thought about it…well, he was right wasn't he? Where was I supposed to with 2 million? What 'life' was waiting for me when If I even managed to get back alive?
For every question I asked he had a snarky, and unhelpful answer, but as much as I wriggled on the line, I was still firmly hooked and he knew it. For all of my concerns, the idea of carving out my own destiny, and taking to the skies I watched Knives conquer sounded very attractive.
"Where exactly are we going, Frank? I haven't agreed to anything yet." My voice was as stubborn as my stiff arms as I walked.
"Aye and even if you did, it wouldnt mean shit without the paper work. I'm killing two birds with one stone, seeing as you'll need a place to stay this evening."
"Something wrong with the inns?" I asked sharply.
"No, not unless you got a priceless stolen shield youre trying to harbour. Or do you really think your chickenhawk is gonna carry it all night?"
Once again, he had me. I could only pivot away with a new question.
"Well whats this other bird we killing with the same stone? And I should let you know, considering my profession, I find that saying a little offensive."
"Your profession? And what is that? Because your papers don't say 'bird tamer' or 'postman' anymore. Youre a lowly sailor, a deck rat, a soggy dog. How ye finding it so far?"
Slick words, arsehole.
"Hang on, if you were such a high flying pirate, sworn to the life and all that. Then what you doing working docks? Your job ain much less soggy than a sailor, Frank. What made you gave you give up the sky?"
"I thought you had enough of old dwarven tales? Long story short, I got caught, did some time in prison, and by the time I was out I was no longer in my 'prime' if you can believe it."
"And dwarves' prime is…" I asked somewhat sarcastically.
"Put it this way, lad. I did 80 years in the locker, and I'm not exactly fresh in the docks. I'm old enough to have seen your ancestors on the tit. So please, spare me any guesses."
Eighty fucking years. I don't care how long dwarves live, that's a long damn time. But surprisingly, it didn't deter me. Probably because during my short time at sea, I figured I wouldn't live long enough to see a cell anyway.
By the time I came up with a witty prison joke I realised we had arrived at where Frank was leading us. We were still on the coast but at the barren end. Devoid of much of any foot traffic and decorated with large piles of rubbish which the circling seagulls called home. Frank had an outstretched finger in the direction of an old derelict dock warehouse that looked like a strong wind would demolish it.
"That's an interesting looking hotel." My arms were crossed as I spoke.
Frank shook his head dismissively an lead me to a very obscure entrance on the far end of the structure that was facing the water. We had to walk across a rotted wooden walkway that seemed to protest our combined weight, and had me tiptoeing until we got inside.
The warehouse looked even more haunted on the inside. I could barely see my hand in front of my own face and I was sure I was breathing in more dust than oxygen. I was more than a little shocked when Frank activated a row of light bulbs that were dotted around the ceiling and walls. Seeing that high end technology in a dump like this had me just as curious as I was confused. I peered ahead into the middle the space to see a body of water of unknown depth. It was as if the warehouse had finally given out under the weight of itself and began to submerge.
"It's got an indoor pool," I quipped before turning back to Frank with an uneasy look, unsure if I was looking at my final resting place.
"I'm here to show you the goods, I wouldn't ask ye to buy a ship before seeing it." Frank stroked his beard as he plodded over to a shadowy corner near the front door. "I hope its obvious enough that I cant be leaving an infamous criminal vessel out in the public view?"
"Hang on..you're saying you keep the ship…here?" I asked as my head darted around the place."
"Where better to hide an airship than in the water she’s known to soar above?”
Frank followed his words with a grunting sound as he tugged on a previously unseen lever under the cover of the musty shadows. Suddenly the darkness seemed to shake and the floor beneath me vibrated. Common sense told me it couldn’t be an earthquake, but it was only when I heard the squeal of metal and the hiss of steam I knew I was in the presence of machinery. The heavy duty kind.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to demolish this place from the outside, Frank?” I half-joked worryingly as I watched streams of dust and woodchips cascade from the ceiling, and felt my own knees tested beneath me.
“When they finally arrested me I was half dead outside a mansion I was planning to rob. The security had filled me with a handful of bullets and I was on the way to the afterlife before the authorities found me, they wouldn't dare let me die.”
“I’m gonna assume it was something other than your sparkling personality?” I asked as I grabbed a wooden railing, barely saving my balance.
“They wanted me to give up the ship, Lad. The infamous air vessel that had become the talk of every pub, guild, temple and town hall from here to the deserts of Roh. Those agents knew if they could bring the ship to their bosses, that would make their career. The ship was higher on the wanted list than me or the crew, because it was stolen technology, a prototype of the sky.”
“The first airship?” I asked with full attention, ignoring the upheaval in my gut.
“The first worth talking about, that’s for sure. Either way I wasn’t about to give her up, and they hit me with 80 years, almost double the standard sentencing for the shit I did.” Frank’s eyes went wide as the dark water in front of us began to swell. My eyes were fixed, but I could barely trust them.
“Trust me, boy. I would have done 800 years before I gave up my baby to those vultures. Behold her glory, The Cloud Edge”