One thing that Gargan does love about his clan’s mountainous territories, despite his disdain for their bloodstained traditions, is the strong and often freezing. He remembered that he and his brothers would just glide off from the highest peak they could manage to climb, and let the wind carry them wherever it would.

 

Some other time, they would race to see who could withstand the bone-chillingly cold winds longest. It wasn’t a fair game, as his feathers were thicker and heavier compared to his brother. It was always his wins. Except when their father would join them one, which was a rare occasion, but a very welcome one nonetheless.

 

And there was that one time too, when his sister and her lady-friend would bet against him and his brothers to see who was the fastest. The chase was tough, Gargan remembered, but his older brother and his sister’s lady-friend both ended up with a draw. There were a few rematch after that too, but he didn’t participate. Those two were too competitive, and much to his liking, always somehow wanted to compete against him. He wasn’t even the fastest of his patch!

 

“Those were the good old times, wasn’t it?” Gargan peaked at a cluster of berries, his feet dangling over the edge of the island. “I wonder how they are right now….” His hand moved over to his waist, and unconsciously looked for the pendant which wasn’t there.

 

“Ah, I forgot….” His hand curled into a fist, “Dammit. Where could it have gone too?”

 

It could have been flung to somewhere distant from this place. Or maybe it could just be somewhere around here, just hiding inside some old lady’s flour bag. Or it could just drift to a whole different dimension and realm. Gargan really hoped it wasn’t the last one.

 

As he was immersed in his pessimistic thought, the glowing blue Butterfly flapped its wings, and danced around the absentminded bird. It lacks any sight of intelligence, nor an indication that the spirit is sentient in its own right.

 

Gargan was too much in a hurry to leave the guild’s office right after his registration to pay the Butterfly any attention. He noticed earlier that almost every person within the office, as well as some from the crowd back in the harbor, has a glowing spirit after them, or around them.

 

With a somewhat carefree and childish attitude, the butterfly landed on his peak, covering most of his view of the lovely Archipelago’s Sky Harbor and its surroundings. Gargan found it cute, but before he could do anything, a strange, almost transparent blue a shade lighter than the butterfly itself popped up.

 

It was a message for him, Gargan realized as he noticed it was addressing his report. ‘That was surprising fast. It wasn’t even an hour ago that I turned it in, and someone already evaluated it?’

Quest Evaluation What great news! I'm sure the Harbormaster will be thrilled to hear that there is an abundant amount of fish in the Lower World! The dehydrated fish is perfectly acceptable. That's a very pretty map by the way -- by any chance would you be an artist? I'm sure many merchant guilds would be willing to pay good coin for some skilled cartography and quality maps. I have a question about this Great Lake region -- is it completely uninhabited? Are we allowed to waltz in and fish as much as we want, or will someone be angered by such actions? It would be rather tricky if this area was claimed by some locals, and we wouldn't want to accidentally offend anyone. Moreover, it would be a good idea to search this region very carefully for any hostile creatures or environmental hazards. Will any form of armed escort or military presence be needed for any fishing operations, or can they go completely undefended? Don't feel pressured to find the answers to these questions yourself, unless you want to personally investigate it! You can always post additional assignments on the Quest Board, and somebody might get around to doing it. ...My goodness, what am I even saying? I got so carried away. I'm already talking to you as if you're a veteran adventurer. You're new here, aren't you? Welcome to Sky Archipelago! Please help yourself to our financial aid package for foreigners. There are a number of inns and taverns... although I'm not sure how many are open after the recent earthquake. You know what? How about I write a letter for you. There's an acquaintance of mine who lives in the city, and I'm sure they would be willing to let you stay with them for a night. There's no need to be reserved -- I'll bonk them on the head or something, since they owe me a favor anyways. They would be happy to host you!

 

“Oh my….what’s a thorough evaluation….” He was surprised at how efficient and good the message was. He didn’t even think to check for any local or environmental hazard!

 

“Seems like Sir Harold was correct. The Guild does love my map….” There was a small prideful smirk plastered on his face. His eyes twinkled. “But….was my map that good? The old fart would just tear that thing into pieces if he ever sees it….”

 

“I certainly failed as an explorer, haven’t I? Forgetting the basics like that!” Shaking his head in disappointment, Gargan was half tempted to return to the lake. Although, it cannot be blamed that he was in a hurry to finish that map to arrive here, the magic chain of floating islands. “I shouldn’t even assume that the whole forest of West Landing is peaceful just because I wasn’t attacked. Oh, there could be some hibernating predators there too….”

 

“This one….he….she,” Gargan had an inkling that the tired human receptionist was the one that wrote this. Her writing certainly seems to be more lively than her expression. She looks like she has to run for miles just a minute before!

 

“She's certainly an altruistic one, doesn’t she?” Most people would just point him in the general direction of an inn, or on some rare occasion, give him a name and a little more specific on where to turn. This one, she even goes as far as writing a letter that offers him a roof for a night or two.

 

However, Gargan hesitated. Strangers….He does not like strangers, more so relying on one. While he doesn’t have a distrust of people, he is just timid. Very timid. Gargan’s outer shell is just a little thicker than most, so he would not be comfortable being with someone else alone, not to mention a stranger.

 

Not only that, he tends to be very quiet. Small talk, to him, always seems just a little too forced, and he doesn’t really know how to keep the conversation going. And, he couldn’t even react if someone happened to be very interested in him, both in a positive and negative light. In fact, his brain would shut down if someone asked him more than three questions at the same time, 

 

Although, he does fair better if some try to talk him into submission. As much as he seems to be cowardly, he just prefers to walk away from the conflict instead. If paying someone just a coin or two to be left alone, he would. If letting someone pass him in line could save him an argument, he would.

 

But that doesn’t mean he is a coward. If flaring his plums and drawing his claws could deter a fight, he absolutely would. If killing a man by tearing him limbs from limbs, and staining his feather in blood could chase away a band of highwaymen, he would. If killing a man means his 10 friends would retreat, he will do so. He just rather not. It is not always easy to keep up his reputation if he keeps killing a man in such a barbaric way, and being an aarakocra on top of that would not help at all.

 

But then again, refusing the receptionist’s offer when she has gone that far would cause him to feel guilty. Gargan was too polite for his own good sometimes. Holding the manifested letter in his hand, Gargan pondered for a while sometime before deciding to head back to the city. “

 

“Maybe people of this world won’t be as bad”, Gargan wished. “Perhaps I could learn something about this place's history and culture.”

 

With his companion’s butterfly, he also has within two cloth bags, one seems to be heavier than the other. As he reached out and picked the smaller one up, he heard a jingle, the clanking of coins.

 

“Ah, this must be the payment for my service! Let’s see how much I got….” The first thing he noticed is the….the…. “Silver? Silver pieces?”

Amid his confused stumbled, he reaches out and opens the other one. It was full of gold. Gold! And a bag filled to the brim with it! “Blessed by the wind of Zephyrs, they use gold and silver here for payment !?!”

 

Back home, the aarakocra clan uses feathers or goods for trade and battering. In the City of Man, they used painted bronze pieces, deep within the Elven Forest, wooden carving was their currency. The closest thing to precious metal currency is of the dwarves, but it wasn’t a whole piece like this. They only inlay bits of gold and silver. These….these….Aeroleans casted their coins fully out of these!

 

Ah, yes, Gargan referred to these skybounded people of the Sky Archipelago as Aeroleans, the people of the skies. He somehow has failed to see the irony, an aarakocra calling someone else skyfolks effectively.

 

“Let’s see….these are Aid for….realm crosser? Dimensional travelers? Foreigners?” He was confused by the term. “Were there more people that were also transported here? Fascinating, the wonder of mana and the mythical power of ether….”

 

Ether and mana, nature's blessing. Bothe are one, but there seems to be debate on what it should be called. Mages of the west called those power mana, while the people of the shamanistic ways called it ether.

 

As Gargan was pondered by things of no urgency, the aarakocra and his butterfly landed just outside Sky Harbor. Just earlier that he realized, maybe flying into the city instead of passing through the guarded gate was a bad idea. He could be mistaken for a criminal, or worse, a smuggler.

 

The line was long, as people came and about, most of whom seemed to be adventurers, judging by their companions, but quite a large number were also civilians and traders too. Perhaps they are looking for something? Or, looking for their lost one?

 

Dilly dallying in line for half an hour, Gargan managed to get through the gate. There were a couple of looks directed toward him, but he sensed no hostility. There was fear, but nothing truly concerning yet.

 

Walking through the cityscape, dashing and avoiding the multitude of piled rumbles, the birdman learns that there were so many Foreigner, or Otherworlders were also caused up with the Worldshift, the developing term the locals use to describe the mass world-transportation.

 

“Does anyone have a map they can share with me? Any map, no matter how incomplete it is, is better than none.” There was a strange, unfamiliar voice that sounded in his ears. It was not harsh, nor was it too loud. He looked around.

 

“I believe Gargan Kiri recently drew a map of a place they explored in the Lower World, but that's all that we've got on hand so far!” Some other voice spoke up. This one sounds feminine. 

“H-Huh? This things speak?” For a moment, he panicked. “Is this spirit capable of telepathic communication? Interesting….” As well-traveled as he was, he of course knew of the Fae’s art of telecommuting. It wasn’t a pleasant experience having thousands of chirps and a high pitched voice exploding in his head.

 

He turns to the butterfly, who now has hitch a ride on his crow, feather ruffled into a nice little bedding. This thing….perhaps there are more to the Guild than it appears to be so.

 

“Ah, right. There is a rather large lake to the southwest of the Archipelago, but that is quite a distance away.” Anyway, he responded to the voices. He was mentioned, after all. It was fast how information traveled.

 

“Looks like there is a demand for maps huh? I shall see if I can do anything about this…..” He murmured, as he told the butterfly to disconnect him from the telepathic channels. “I wonder what people call this? It can’t be ‘Butterfly Channel’, will it? That name seems…..too simple.” Gargan once again fails to see the irony, said the bird that calls a large lake the Great Lake.

 

Oblivious to that, Gargan followed the direction on the letter, looking for the receptionist’s relative. Maybe he could learn a thing or two about the city over dinner, as he saw the sun just caressing the island’s edge. It will be dark soon, and he hopes to arrive at the destination before then.