Travels with a Yellow Bird Part 5: Open Sea

>Last time on Travels with a Yellow Bird

>Your crew comes for you at the promised time, and bombards the port under cover of darkness.

>You escape the clutches of the dragon Ironscale with valuable papers and a magical map. She vows revenge.

>Escaping into the bay, you are rescued by Flit. You avoid the ship patrols to meet up with your comrades.

>You board your ship to find a smaller crew but loads of new guns and supplies. Your mission was a huge success!

>You detonate the Limus armory and sail into the great sea while the city burns. No regrets.

>Before returning to Flit to go over new information, you visit Elsa in the brig.


"I can do that." I tell Elsa.

She runs her scaly hand through her red hair, face contorted in frustration. "You are some kind of real idiot aren't you?" She spits at the floor in disgust. She misses and hits her foot instead. "Typical." She wipes it on the sleeve of my old coat.

Elsa hugs her dress and continues with a calm voice though I see her muscles bunching under her clothes. "Do you know nothing of my kind? We you raised under a rock? This is the night of the full moon. I may not see it, but I feel it. I yearn. I want. I need." Her dead eye rolls upward and her voice gains pitch. "I don't care that you smell like salt and blood and old sex. I don't care that I can't see your face. I barely care which man you are." She stops, sitting down on the small cot and drawing her knees to her chest. Her tail twitches. "I don't know what I would do if I felt your hands on me, but you should fear it."

"Elsa." I begin, I'm too tired for this right now.

"Leave!" Elsa cuts me off. "Leave." This time it's softer, almost begging.

"Good night then. I'll send someone in the morning." I promise as I turn away. Flit will be waiting by now and there's more to do before I can call it a night.

A faint voice follows at the limit of my hearing as the brig falls behind me. "Don't give an old soldier hope where there is none..."

Flit is already sound asleep in my bed when I return to my quarters. She's turned the sheets into a nest. The folds are accented it with a few shiny shells it looks like she picked up off the beach.

Flit holds my old shirt to her chest. It reminds me of the old nests she used to make out of laundry back when we were in the caves. I'd picked more than one fight with her over a missing sock or pair of pants. I decide to not wake her and look around at her work. The papers I took from the dockmaster are nailed up around the room drying. The map crystal sits prominently on the table, throwing a dim glow drowned out by the lanternlight. The ink on the freshest logs has bled into an indecipherable mess. The older charts still can be read. I notice storm clouds massing on the map of light. It seems this magic map changes to reflect the current conditions, a very useful tool.

Studying the charts and routes I see the next major area we'll have to pass through is the sunken continent of Natans. There the seas are full of shallow water, rocks, and reefs. Dangerous currents swirl between them all. The safest paths are all used heavily by the Dragoon, and I only see two with no traffic: one by the rock cliffs of Gordova and one by the great whirlpool of the south.

My men are good enough sailors but we lack the experience needed to navigate this place. That leaves us with few options.

>Search for new crew to hire or liberate a ship carrying PoW's
>Fight or bluff your way through the main trade routes
>Take the route through Gordova
>Take the route by the whirlpool


I awake to feathers tickling my nose. Flit giggles when I swat her wings away. I prop my elbows up on heavy wood, sweating in the sticky heat of morning on the tropical sea. Everything feels sore and my bandages itch. I must have fallen asleep at the table in the night.

I share the idea I came up with Flit over a breakfast of unmarked tinned meat. Hopefully the fishing gear we bought will bring us something fresher every now and again. Flit seems intrigued but unsure, preening her feathers as she thinks. "Ships carrying men are more heavily guarded than any others.The Lizarda told us that, and your papers confirm it."

"She has a name." I start.

"She is a prisoner, one that tried to kill you." Flit dismisses with a wave of her wing. "Our problem is the manifests are ruined. We have no idea what ships are carrying what. We can make a guess based on the listed escorts." She taps her talons and clucks in consternation. "Even then, we need sailors, not tribals or broken men. That's if we can get past all the firepower there. We're one fast small ship against much bigger uglier things. Risky risky risky."

I let her think it over some more as I get up and walk about the ship, stretching my legs and cooling down with the breeze on deck. The men are in good spirits, stowing supplies and checking the rigging, making sure everything is ship shape for the next fight. I decide to try and pry some information from Elsa. She may hold some clue to finding the ship we want.

Elsa is calmer today when I approach. She perks up when I bid her hello. She makes her way to the bars. "You never learn. You may be stupid but at least you keep your word." She turns her back to me and starts to slip her shirt over her shoulder.

"Elsa, I need to ask you some questions." I stop her, my hand on her arm.

Her face flushes. "Of-of course that's why you're here." She keeps her back turned to me. "What else can I tell you?"

>Ask about escorts
>Ask about ship layout
>Ask about known prisoners

"Elsa, you saw plenty of ships loaded at the old capitol of Ave. How were the prisoners divided? Warriors? Plain old captives? What about sailors? Were there any recent ones you can remember, any distinctive markings, the names of any of the ships they sailed with?" A compacted semi-coherent laundry list of questions flow from me.

I start to pull my hand away through the bars. Elsa stops me and rubs her cheek against my bandages. "You tired of getting hurt yet? Maybe you've gotten used to it. I can tell what you're planning and it's suicide."

Elsa faces me and presses up against the bars.

"There are no sailing men left from all of Auk. If you hope to find some, they will come from somewhere else. They won't be aboard an iron galleon. The only other sailors you'll find in these waters are pirates, rogues and deserters like yourself. They'll be on the open sea or dead. We don't take traitors prisoner."

She hands the dress to me. It's stained now, by tears I think.

"But then, there are plenty lowly sailors and guards on convoy ships who would give their right hand for a man. You might be able to convince them to jump ship with the right incentive. Leverage what you have. You have what every monster desires, lots of strong free men."

Elsa begins to strip again. "Close your eyes now and help me out. If I cannot gaze upon you, you shall not look upon me."

"I'll resist the temptation." I whisper into her ear. Elsa blushes. It's a small thing to make her happy. Still, at times like this, it's hard to tell who is playing whom.

>Find more pirates and fight/join them
>Find wooden convoy ships from far seas likely to carry men
>Try and use your own crew to bring a couple monster sailors to your side.