Simnia grasped Aria's hand, gave a heave, and soon found herself safe and thankful on the deck of the ship. She continued to grip Aria for a moment afterward to be sure that she was indeed in no danger of toppling off again, what with the sway and dip the vessel was making. "Thank [i]you[/i]," she responded, patting Aria on the arm, "I never woulda made it."

But [i]what[/i], exactly, had she just gotten herself into? She found a foothold and pushed herself up enough to look over the edge again, where the bold and witless captain was limping toward the ship with a rabble of bandits close on his heels. Simnia clambered a little higher and leaned over the rail; the captain leaped and slammed against the rail beside her, and she grasped a handful of his jacket while he swung one leg and then the other to safety. Simnia heaved a sigh of relief, and she pulled herself up to the rail again to look over: the bandits were still swarming, and the ship was still tethered by one obstinate cord to the dock.

She was shocked out of her thoughts by a gunshot beside her. The dwarf nearly tripped over the captain in her surprise, and saw that the culprit was a pretty young blonde with a rifle on her shoulder, aimed at the violent thugs on the dock. So [i]she[/i] was the source of those bullets from before!

There was a cry from above, Simnia looked up, and was horrifed to see that a homeless-looking elf had [i]ripped a hole in the balloon![/i] The ship was sinking, the dock rose up beyond the rail of the deck, the city cast a shadow over their doomed vessel, and suddenly Simnia realized she might've had a better chance with those bandits than with these insane, incompetent, inconceivably irrational --

A falling body rolled onto the deck and Simnia squeaked and stumbled back while the deck rolled and tipped and threw her on her face; she grabbed a rigging for balance, and she was sure the bandits were trying to board now -- though [i]why[/i] they would deign to board a sinking ship was anyone's guess! They were [i]all[/i] crazy! Meanwhile, the one cord still attached to the dock was ripping wood out of the deck with a great cracking and splintering, the captain was roaring about insanity, the falling man was blathering, the blonde was still taking pot-shots, and that beardy [i]elf[/i] who'd condemned them all to death was sauntering about as if [i]nothing[/i] were wrong at all!

At least the captain had the presence of mind to cut them loose from the dock, and the ship lurched and swung and tipped and -- [i]somehow[/i] straightened out and stopped falling.

By this time, Simnia's hair was frizzed in all directions and she looked more like a crazed lunatic than any of the actual crazed lunatics onboard. The deck leveled serenely, and she clambered up the rail and leaned over to look up at that hole that should be the end of them all, only to find that it had been patched with remarkable, imppossible speed. She was, apparently, losing her mind.

But the ship still wasn't moving forward.

"Dariq!" Simnia called automatically, remembering the name the captain had mentioned. "I'm looking for Dariq!" She caught the eye of the raggedy elf, and her own eyes widened in horror. Was [i]this[/i] Dariq? The one that had decided it was a good idea to [i]rip a hole in the ship[/i]? [i]This[/i] was the oddball in charge of making sure they all didn't end up crumpled in the bottom of a ravine? Granted, he had somehow kept control over the situation, but the thought was still nauseating.

"I'm a mechanic!" she called firmly to Dariq, who was impossibly taller than she was and much better armed -- but Simnia could roar like a lion. "I'll help you get us moving!" Granted, she'd never set eyes on an airship engine before, but it couldn't be much different or more complicated than a train engine, right?