Remnants of the Captain’s log from the Trasa, recovered from its crash site.
It started off as any other day in the sky. The sun was out, the wind was behind us and there was profit to be made. It was a good day to fly.
Then something changed. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was this feeling of pressure in the air, that something was….wrong. The last time I felt something like that was when we were being hunted by some of the Pirate King’s ships, near the Mischief reef. It was a fierce fight, and we lost some good people, but we managed to turn those pirates away.
I wasn’t too worried this time though. There were a few of us working in the area that day, we should be able to fend off any pirates. I doubled the watch so that nothing could sneak up on us, and told the crew to prepare for trouble.
But we were not prepared…
They came out of the clouds, dark shapes riding the winds as one. Three of them, working together. They kept together, moving together with some arcane artifice, Avertigos swinging from one ship to another, mid-flight, and firing a unholy motley of screaming missiles.
Nothing we did had any effect, but they ripped us out of the sky one by one….if it weren’t for our Sjaman, we’d have been lost too. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it. May the gods spare me from ever seeing it again…
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