A fast-sailing merchant ship had finally shaken off a pirate attack and run aground in the Farstar Belt.
The helmsman wizard aboard had unfortunately been caught in the fighting and killed, while the ship's chief mage had also been injured in battle. Repairing the spelljamming helm had become the most urgent priority. If they continued lingering on the edge of this distant crystal sphere, who knew how many more waves of ill-intentioned raiders they might encounter?
Mr Gus, the head of the caravan, was absolutely furious. On this round trip to Krynnspace, the losses he had suffered had already reached an intolerable level.
Mr Manny Bourbon, captain of the Charizard, tried to comfort his boss, telling him not to blow a gasket just because the journey had gone poorly.
"Bourbon, how can you just sit there? Listen to what the first mate said. We've lost thirty percent of our crew and forty percent of our cargo. How much money am I going to lose on this trip? At least five thousand gold coins! Rounding up, that's ten thousand gold coins. Ten thousand gold coins would be enough for us to buy a property near downtown Waterdeep. I lose one house on one trip. Three trips in two years, that's three houses. In ten years, that's fifteen houses!"
Manny gently stroked his thick, rough palm over his beard and smiled as he flattered him. "Even so, it would still take you a thousand years to go bankrupt. The gold coins you own are enough to buy a noble title in any country."
"You don't understand business or capital!" Gus glared. "A gold coin may be very valuable in Realmspace, but once you reach Krynnspace, it's worth far less than a refined iron coin. Do you know why? Because wars are frequent there, and only iron can circulate as a general equivalent… This little bit of wealth on me is nothing in the multiverse. Even the children of the Arcane merchants have more money than me. They dare sell a small spelljamming helm for a hundred thousand gold coins. That's faster than printing money…"
Manny quietly stood up and walked toward the door. This boss of his had started from nothing. He possessed an excellent mind for business and was rich in the spirit of adventure and high-stakes gambling, but his usual personality was so long-winded that he could talk your ear off for an hour.
"Where are you going? My captain, I was just about to make my point!"
"A five-alarm emergency, sir. I intend to go check on our injured mage. May the good gods of Realmspace also cast their merciful gaze upon outsiders like us."
"Fine, then. Remember to give him my regards… Ah, no. We'll go together."
Manny's smile did not change, but his steps quickened a little.
When they arrived at the ship's infirmary, Manny heard a burst of passionate guitar playing before he even opened the door.
Gus looked delighted. "Listen to that wonderful music. Mr Stan must be using music to help the patient."
"I very much doubt music this loud can produce a good result," the captain said, full of concern.
The infirmary was very narrow. It had only one sickbed, and the aisle between the bed and the table cabinets was only wide enough for someone to squeeze through sideways. Yet four people were crammed into such a narrow place.
A blond-haired, blue-eyed man sat at the foot of the bed, one leg crossed over the other as he played the guitar. The ship's doctor had pulled over a chair and was listening to the music with his head propped on one elbow. A pale-faced mage apprentice was curled up on a small stool by the window, staring closely at his unconscious mentor.
Bards interpreted the universe through music. They could cast magic in musical form. At this moment, the middle-aged mage on the sickbed was surrounded by white magical aura. His face was full of struggle, as if he could find no peace even while unconscious.
"Captain." When the apprentice saw Manny, he merely nodded. Then he saw Gus and immediately stood up. "Boss!"
Manny nodded to the apprentice and gave him a gentle smile. He was not angry at the man's slight rudeness.
Spellcasters were treasures. Even if this apprentice only knew a few cantrips, who could say he would not suddenly transform one day and become the boss's new favorite?
"How is our helmsman? Has Our Smiling Lady, Tymora, bestowed her lucky grace upon this poor man?" Mr Gus rubbed his hands together, his face full of expectation.
The ship's doctor picked up the case report in his hand and read out a long list of external injuries like he was rattling off the specials at a diner. With each line he spoke, the mage apprentice's face turned paler. The smile on the boss's face grew stiffer and stiffer. The captain revealed a pained expression, and the bard switched to funeral music.
"…In short, he needs bed rest. It will take about a month before he can get out of bed and work."
"Ah, so he isn't going to die?"
"When did I ever say he was going to die?"
Everyone was speechless.
The bard smiled and said, "Music will take care of my friend. He will get better."
As soon as Boss Gus entered the room, he warmly patted the bard on the shoulder. It was obvious he had a great fondness for this flashy man.
Manny knew the real reason. This bard was someone they had picked up on a passing asteroid. He had followed the fleet to Krynnspace and, relying on a belly full of stories and a fine hand with the guitar, had quickly become popular aboard the ship. Everyone loved him. But the boss liked him simply because they had picked up a spellcaster for free. Room and board only. No salary required.
"As long as those damn Wildspace pirates didn't hurt you, my friend. Without your music and stories, how boring would our long journey be? Stan, when you have time, tell us more about Spider-Man's deeds in New York. I've never heard of a hero modeled after an evil spider before. Perhaps he is an outlier like Drizzt?"
"No, Spider-Man is a good kid. The society he lives in does not worship Lolth, but a guy called God."
"Interesting."
Gus looked toward the mage apprentice. "Mr Dean, how many spells have you learned now? Please give me a pleasant surprise."
The mage apprentice's face flushed red. He stammered, "I'm doing all right. Not many, but better than yesterday."
Manny felt disappointed. He probably did not hide his expression well, because the mage apprentice glanced at him, lowered his head, and clenched the index finger of his right hand with his left hand, as if he wanted to pull the finger off.
"Is that so? Then has your mentor taught you how to control the spelljamming helm?"
"A little. I can handle it."
"Mm-hm." Mr Gus smiled and nodded. "Then, Mr Stan Lee, would you be willing to try piloting the spelljamming helm?"
The mage apprentice abruptly raised his head, then quickly lowered it again. Manny noticed the resentment and anxiety in the young man's eyes. Anyone whose job had been snatched away would react like that. It was understandable.
"Of course." Stan stood up with a smile. "I'm willing to do my part for the Charizard. As long as we can reach Waterdeep sooner, even if we run into a swarm of neogi, I'll pick up my guitar and fight them without saying another word."
"Ah, no. Please, anything but neogi. We've had enough trouble already." Mr Gus pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the fine sweat from his forehead.
The three of them came together to the bow cockpit, where the tinker gnome from Krynnspace, Thunderclap Pami, was in the middle of a furious outburst.
"This thing is broken! What do you expect me to do about it? I'm not one of those Arcane helm dealers. What's the meaning of giving me a wrench? You think I can rub this hunk of iron and turn it into a spelljamming ship?"
The damaged spelljamming helm he was talking about was a luxurious red leather recliner. Under normal circumstances, the helmsman would lie on the helm and control the ship's propulsion through a mental link with the item.
Now the upper half of the chair was covered in wounds. Through the slashes and bullet holes, one could see broken alloy components inside, still stained with blood that would not wash off. It looked like a wounded man whose guts had been hacked open, the kind of patient a doctor would take one look at before saying, "Nope," and walking out.
The tinker gnome's small fists hammered the spelljamming helm in anger. One punch knocked a gear loose. A small body with a big temper, no wonder people called him Thunderclap Pami.
The first mate stood beside him with a forced smile, speaking nice words, but it was precisely his endless pestering that had driven the tinker gnome into a rage.
Captain Manny hurried over with a cheerful smile to smooth things over. "Pami, my friend, I'm just as angry as you are, but can we find some way to repair this thing first? The Farstar Belt isn't exactly safe. The sooner we set off, the safer we'll be. If we can deliver the cargo to Waterdeep, we'll all make some money, then we can relax at the port."
"It can't be repaired! I guarantee it. This thing is broken. Our only option is to use a scroll to create a temporary spelljamming helm."
Mr Gus felt his heart ache when he heard that. Create Minor Helm was a sixth-level spell, and the corresponding scroll was also outrageously expensive. A single scroll had a market price of more than five thousand gold coins. Although a powerful mage could maintain the effect of this spell for several months, enough to support a single cross-sphere trade run, doing this was still a money-losing choice.
To read a sixth-level scroll, they would have to wait for the injured mage to wake up. No one else was qualified.
Manny urged the gnome craftsman to do his best with the repair. Whatever he needed, he could ask for it, and they would do their best to satisfy him.
Gus said nothing about Manny giving orders. Although he was the boss, aboard a ship, only the captain had the final say.
Pami said with a gloomy face, "I can't fix the helm, but I can think of something for the holes in the ship. Have the crew explore the surrounding space. Ideally, they should catch some filament space jellyfish. Their skin can be boiled into glue. Also gather some glowing rock. I'll see if I can make a chemical thruster and at least get this broken ship moving."
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