(OOC: Gonna cover a fair bit of ground here -- we're nearing the last major events of the thread and I don't want to keep anyone waiting, so hold onto your hats!
)
Up ahead in the darkness, Cordell's flashlight danced up and down as she ran, the pirate moving with ever increasing urgency. It wasn't that she was
trying to put distance between herself and the group... more that she had suddenly lost herself in anticipation, drawn forward by a desperate need to know. Was it? Was it
truly? The cobbled-together buildings gradually gave way to an empty stretch of cave where the wooden walkway nearly doubled in width, leading a clear path across the bare natural stone. And at the end of that path, like an altar to some ancient god, rose a single huge platform: an elevated dry dock of thick wooden beams and huge stone blocks, with zig-zag stairs leading up both sides of it. Seated in the cradle of that docking platform like a sleeping behemoth rested a ship...
...
THE ship.
Those closest to her when Cordell came to an abrupt stop would hear her gasp, the sharp intake of breath held for several long seconds before an entirely out-of-character
fangirlish squee of joy and delight came from the normally unwavering captain.
"It's here... I can't believe it's HERE!" Awestruck, her flashlight shed its ray across the huge hull of the ship, going from the sealed under-slung gun ports to the fore and aft propeller blades, the turreted top deck cannons wrought into the likeness of snarling Beowolves, all the way up the rising masts to where the sails waited in furled-up rolls.
"It's . . . intact. After all this time, two hundred years. I... I can't believe it..."Pausing to wait as her companions caught up to her, Cordell turned at their approach and smiled a grin that simply
beamed with excitement.
"Th' Howling Storm! I'd hoped, but not even dared t' believe, yet... it's in one piece! C'mon!" She waved them on, then began bounding up the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.
Quisling hadn't waited long with Akel at the treasure pile, snapping a few hurried photos of old coins and jewelry before quietly slipping off into the dark, not even announcing his departure from the scene. He could hear, at the far end of the cavern, that Cordell had found something that had her in a tizzy, and that likely meant that the Crown wasn't far.
It was almost time.
Almost...
Though the deck of the ship creaked and groaned beneath the adventurers' steps, it held fast. The old airship was remarkably intact despite its age, no doubt due to the dry and sealed-up conditions within the cavern; every step resulted in a stirring of long-settled dust, but otherwise the ages seemed to have done little harm to the vessel. Cordell pointed this out as they boarded, explaining that the wood of the ship would have been treated to endure both moisture and altitude, giving it impressive staying power and limiting the need to replace anything that didn't end up damaged in a raid. She walked the deck with an almost religious reverence, breath half-held as she ran her hand across the surface of the main mast, lost in an almost dream-like reverie.
And then, something entirely unexpected occurred. It began with the faintest wisp of light tracing along a length of iron-corded rope, almost like phantom electricity moving in slow motion. Then another, and another, and another. Shocked as she caught sight of it, Cordell instantly drew pistol and blade... but no enemy appeared. Instead a network of ropes that seemed to lace into and throughout much of the ship slowly began to glow with a soft, pulsing blue light, enough that the entire deck and much of the surrounding cave could be made out with mere human vision. For the most part these cords disappeared into small holes in the deck, almost like circuitry installed in a building's walls, but there was one point where they seemed to come together -- one point glowing far more brightly than the rest: the ship's main wheel.
"... No." Stunned, Cordell could barely whisper at first.
"No. No no no. No! It' can't be!" These, however, were words of awe, not fear or concern. The young pirates eyes were wide with wonder as she looked at the glowing lines, then turned to her companions.
"It's the ship's Floatstone -- it's reactin'!" She spun on her heel, tucking her weapons away as she ran with childish abandon towards the helm, hesitating just a moment in nervousness before gripping the spokes and closing her eyes. Long moments passed, whole minutes... and as they did, the energy in Cordell's expression gradually subsided and dropped away. Finally, with a sigh, she let go of the wheel and shook her head.
". . . But not to me, t'would seem." The disappointment writ on her face was as plain as day, but she did what she could to gather herself.
Closing her eyes once again, she pulsed her Semblance for a moment and concentrated.
"So th' ship's Floatstone is still imprinted on ol' Grimshaw, it seems -- not just anybody can use it. But it is responding t' somebody here, somehow. Could be yer Aura's just similar enough... or might be somethin' more." After another moment her eyes snapped open, blinking in surprise.
"Blow me down an' call me a bilge rat... two of ye! Rust, Solar, th' ship's Floatstone be reactin' to yer Auras! And not just that. The strongest concentration o' Dust I've ever sensed is in th' ship's hold -- it's gotta be th' Sorcerer's Crown. I think... I think we can use th' ship t' haul it and all the treasure we can find outta this hole."