Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Five Hundred and Forty-Eight - Water in the Desert

The Weakling's Rest came up ahead of us, and it was a strange sight to see. If Come Here and Die was a metropolis, then the Weakling's Rest was barely a polis.

Or something like that.

The town was sitting in a sea of dunes. Far, far to the west were the mountains we'd been keeping to our side, but ahead and back and to our right was nothing but sand as far as the eyes could see.

Weakling's Rest sat on a small raised plateau of sandy-brown rocks. They weren't raised all that high, just enough that the rocks stood out from the dunes all around them. In the middle of the rocky area was a small bump in the landscape atop which were a few taller peaks. They were about as tall as the Beaver was long, serving as a natural set of towers that poked out above the sea of dunes.

In the shadow of these huge stones was a tiny lake.

I wasn't sure if lake was the right term for it, really. I'd seen ponds that were about as big. I was pretty sure that if we landed the Beaver in there, we'd fit with barely a few metres of clearance.

Still, it was the only body of water far out in the middle of the desert, and so a small town had grown around it.

There were a few buildings made of stacked stones, cut into rough square blocks and covered in what looked like a layer of clay. Most of the homes here, however, were tents. Large walls of cloth, sometimes open at the sides and mostly covering these dug-out holes in the ground. Probably a trick to keep the temperature down. It looked like most of the houses were set up where they'd be in as much shade as possible as well.

"That makes no sense," Amaryllis said.

"Huh?" I asked.

She gestured with a wing at the lake. "Water flows down Broccoli. How could there be a basin like that when it's elevated over the rest?"

"Uh, I don't know," I said. "Maybe it's a natural spring?"

Amaryllis grumbled about geography and geology and other geo-things, but I didn't care, it looked like a really neat little oasis, and it made sense that some people would settle here where it was nice and cool compared to the rest of the swelteringly hot Ostri desert.

There were six airships moored around the town. All of them had just dropped their anchors into the dunes a short walk from Weakling's Rest. We circled the town very slowly while debating over whether or not to land.

"How's our fuel looking?" I asked Awen as she came up from below deck.

She scrubbed her hands with a cloth while speaking. "We used up about a quarter of our fuel making it this far. We're fine on everything else for a while."

"A quarter of our fuel for a third of the journey," Amaryllis said. "At this rate, we'll make it to Southerfell with two-fifths left in the tank."

"That's good," I said.

"That's good if we can refuel once there. If we can't, then we'll be stuck in a foreign land without enough fuel to make it back here, let alone back to someplace more civilized," Amaryllis said.

I rubbed at my chin. "Would Southerfell have fuel? Are they a nation or just a city?"

"They're part of Pyrowalk," Amaryllis said. "I don't believe that the Pyrowalkians have invested nearly as much into air travel as we have."

That was strange. Why not? Airships were cool!

We ended up deciding to land, mostly because while Weakling's Rest was small, it did have the facilities to refuel ships. One of the six airships was having fuel pumped into it from a cart at the moment, and there was a row of large metal tanks out to one side of town that looked like they probably held more fuel.

We came down not too far from there, slowly lowering the Beaver until we dropped anchor and were able to bring the keel to a hover just a pace over the sandy ground.

Interestingly, no one came out to greet us. The people in town sometimes looked towards the Beaver but there didn't seem to be all that much interest. We were just another passing airship.

Before hopping off the side of the ship, we had to decide who was going. Awen didn't seem too keen to leave the ship, and wanted to tinker on something while the Beaver was stationary, and Caprica was forbidden from leaving by an overprotective Bastion, so the away crew turned out to be me, Amaryllis, Calamity and Desiree.

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Four was a good number! A ladder was rolled off the side of the ship, and I helped hold the bottom steady as my friends came down, then we started trudging through the sand towards town.

As it turned out, airships stopping here was pretty common. There was a bar, even, called the Airshipman's Rest. Its entrance looked almost like a cave, with a sign hanging over the door and steps carved into the stone.

Ducking in, we found ourselves in a tight little tavern, with a few chairs, a few tables, and a tiny bar at the back.

It was comfy, though, and the old ostri manning the place was welcoming.

We asked about fuel, he made us an offer, and Amaryllis got red in the face trying to haggle him down, but he wouldn't budge much. He was the only one selling fuel out here, and if we wanted a better deal we just had to fly a few days east and go buy some elsewhere.

Fortunately, we didn't need that much to top off our bunkers. It still cost us as much to buy a quarter tank than it would to buy half a tank elsewhere, but I kind of understood. There was supply and demand to think of, and this place was out in the middle of nowhere.

While Amaryllis was finishing that up and Desiree and Calamity had some local snacks, a man approached me.

He was human, wearing a nice navy-blue suit and a captain's hat not too unlike my own. He bowed slightly, then glanced at my captain's hat before meeting my eye. "Hello, young miss," he said. "Pardon me for the intrusion, but would you happen to be the captain of the interesting vessel that just alighted nearby?"

"I am, yes," I said. "I'm Broccoli Bunch, Captain Broccoli Bunch. And his name's the Beaver Cleaver."

"His? Ah, and here I thought all ships were women."

I shrugged. Why couldn't the Beaver be a boy ship? "Are you a captain too?"

"Ah yes, where are my manners? I'm Captain Gum, of the PMS Streaker."

"The... PMS?" I asked.

"Pyrowalkian Merchant Ship," he replied.

"Oh! That must be one of the ships parked around town," I said.

He nodded. "Indeed. The Streaker is the red merchantman. We're being refuelled at the moment, but our ship isn't alone. We're part of a merchant caravan. Do you mind if I inquire as to your destination?"

"Southerfell," I said. Captain Gum seemed pretty nice, all things considered. I didn't get a bad feeling from him, and I trusted my gut. And my C-Rank Friendmaking. "We've never really traveled to Pyrowalk before, but we're on a mission from the Exploration Guild."

"Oh, The Exploration Guild? Interesting. That's something like the Adventurer's Guild of Pyrowalk?"

"I think so," I said. "Ah, but maybe not? The Exploration Guild is more about finding new places and things, like new dungeons and such, and clearing them for the first time. The Guild has a lot of really strong people in it!"

"I see! How intriguing. Well, Captain Bunch, I have an offer to make you, one that may be mutually beneficial."

"I'm listening," I said.

"The Streaker and its sister ships, the Bloody Mess and the Cramped Quarters are returning to Pyrowalk. We're quite fat with goods at the moment, and we're justifiably worried that we may encounter pirates on the way back. You might have to worry about the same as a lone ship. If you wish, we can make room for your... Beaver Cleaver in our convoy. More ships make for a less appetising target for ne'er-do-wells."

"Huh... yeah, we've done a fair bit of anti-piracy stuff. Have you ever heard of the Pirate Lord Megumin? The Beaver was one of the ships that fought her! And she's not the first pirate we've tangled with either."

"Your vessel is so formidable?" he asked.

"Don't underestimate him! But it's mostly the crew, I think." I smiled. I'd always be proud of my friends. "Let me talk to my first mate and we'll see. But I'm tempted. Since this is our first time heading to Southerfell, being with others who know the way seems like common sense to me."

***