Jolly Gutters
Four cliffracers lied strewn about the deck. Sat among them was Gutters, beside one which he had decapitated. He was sifting his hands through the innards of the creature's head, plucking bits of meat, cartilage, and a bit of gray matter from it. He was completely lost in the act as he licked every bit of blood and gore from his fingertips. Both his eyes were still. The twitching had subsided. In this moment, he was calm.
The black veins stretched across his skin. They did not move, but their quantity gave off such a false impression.
The hunger.He bit down on a clump of meat.
The thirst.He drained the blood from the cliffracer's head, straight down his throat.
There lies the unseen, over yonder, in the Fog. He watches, and he smiles. You are alive, and he is happy.Gutters continued to feast, late into the dark hours of the Fog.
A lone, one-manned airship wandered through the Fog, guided by the faintest lights in the bleak sky, and the radial mysteries of a weathered map. Aboard it, a lonesome explorer, well-equipped but lacking in experience. He sees a shipwreck through the darkness, illuminated by the frontward lights of his airship. And he decides to investigate.
The airship pulls up to the rails and stills itself, the explorer taking two anchors and tossing them aboard the wreck. He grabs his pistol and his lantern, both fine in make, and climbs down over the rail, planting himself on the deck. He raises his lantern and immediately regrets it.
He sees the bodies. The long-dead crewmen. The cliffracers that had only been killed only hours prior. He reels, but eventually, steels himself, and moves about. His well-tailored boots make the slightest stamping sounds as he proceeds towards the captain's cabin. He, however, quickly finds that he alone does not produce noise aboard this wreck.
Behind him, the sound of rapid, charging footsteps. He turns, but he is only quick enough to catch the gleaming, swollen eye and the jagged teeth of his assailant, before a swing from an old metal pipe puts him down.
He drops both his pistol
and his lantern. His ears ring and his vision blurs as he cradles his head, slowly looking back upward to see his aggressor raise the pipe again.
Another downward swing, upon the explorer's head. He is no more.
Gutters breathed frantically as he looked down at the battered head of the explorer. Bit of blood had jumped on his coat, beard, and face. He dropped the pipe and knelt down, immediately beginning to pick through the remains of the newly dead. Oh, this young lad had definitely been looking to traverse the Fog in hopes of finding old, valuable treasures. Such fine clothes and gear, he must have bought it with ill-got coins. Or, maybe, it was a boon from his family. Didn't matter any to Gutters. The pistol was very nice, he took it and holstered it for later. A new knife and sword, as well. Plenty of spare bullets and vials of medicine. He contemplated taking the clothes, but he opted out of it. With the explorer's body successfully scavenged, he moved over towards the lantern and retrieved it.
Standing up, Gutters turned towards the airship the explorer had arrived on. It was the sort built to be manned by a single individual. Small, but well-fitted for long voyages. Wouldn't survive minutes in a fight, though. He was lucky this thing hadn't been besieged by pirates.
Gutters set the anchors back aboard and climbed onto the airship and opened the door to the cabin. It was stocked with extra supplies and ammunition, all very much intending to be put to good use. Well, not anymore - at least, not by their original owner.
Gutters turned and glossed over the airship's piloting mechanism. There were the standard controls, which he had no idea how to operate. But there was also a rather strange, arcane contraption fitted overhead. Bunch of circles centered around a simple sphere. Nodes occupied sections of the rings, denoted with colored gems.
As if instinctively, Gutters raised his hand and tapped one of the gems, on the left, outermost ring.
Kushrina.The airship shifted a bit, causing Gutters to stumble some, but he quickly regained his stance. It ascended from its stationary position, rising over the dark of the Fog, heading off westward, towards the presumed location Gutters has chosen.
The man slowly planted himself in the pilot's seat, setting the lantern aside. He watched the airship weave through the Fog, distancing itself from spires that could have potentially been carrying nests of unsavory creatures. A useful contraption, no doubt. Must have cost quite a bit. But it lacked the rings signifying the Deep Fog and the Smoke - which he was in full mind to travel to.
One thing kept itself on Gutters' mind as the voyage carried on without his hand.
A mirror.
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