Restarting "By sun and Sword" and other story ideas

 I had written part 5 of "By sun and Sword" this morning but decided to just unpublish it on my various platforms. I found Isaac lacked depth as a character and the story itself felt very dry, like a non-scholar's attempt to write a war documentary.

I unpublished the story on the various platforms I use (Inkitt, Wattpad, Royal Road) but I'll leave the drafts up here on my blog. I'm going to restart the story from the beginning, except I'm going to start a couple of years after the Tarid invasion. It will still follow Isaac but the scenario will give him more opportunity to come through as a character, and the social upheaval that will come following the introduction of steam-powered machines, new weapons, and the beginning of widespread use of Aether will allow for more interesting things to happen.

Further down the line I have more story ideas I'm fleshing out, all set in the same world. One will follow a pseudo-Viking raider named Rolog. He's one of the northmen that Isaac mentions. Rolog will be motivated by a desire to perform great deeds worth of being written in a god's book to be read to the rest of the pantheon after he dies, the record of his life determining how he fares in the afterlife. 

I have more in the works, the largest is set in the same universe but focused on the island home of the Tarid empire. Following the Great War, Tarid society experiences great upheaval as mystery cults take root in the disillusioned populace. An inquisitor attempts to maintain the values of the empire and keep order in the face of rising chaos.

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 8 Finale

Nathaniel awoke with a pounding headache. He tried to move but found he was fastened securely to a wooden table and could not even turn his head. His eyes darted around trying to get his bearings. He was nude except for a mask covering his mouth and nose, a small length of tube jutting out from the middle. Two men stood off to his left. Captain Johnston was one, the other was an older wearing a jacket covered in pockets.

"See? He's awake, I told you he'd be fine." Johnston said.

"Yes, this time, but you simply must be more careful in the future. The dead are useless to me. You must be patient when you incapacitate the subjects. Only a quick dab on the cloth, it should take no less than three minutes to render them unconscious. Any faster and the dose is too strong, you risk inducing a coma or death." the old man said. Both began to walk towards Nathaniel's helpless form. He struggled against his restraints, breathing hard through the hole in the mask, but his restraints were firm.

"Well, this is where we part ways," Captain Johnston said, leaning over Nathaniel. "I want to get back home, get some sleep. Tomorrow I'll put Tabitha on a train to the capital and she'll get to start a new life."

Nathaniel could do nothing but stare. Something was in his mouth, forcing his jaw open and rendering him unable to speak. He made a few weak grunts but Johnston ignored him. 

"It's a pity that she's leaving. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that she's getting out of here. She's a sweet girl and deserves a chance at happiness after everything your kind put her through, but she's provided me with a lot of good information over the years. Never lead me astray, that one. I couldn't always act on what she told me, had to give the appearance of stumbling across criminal activity purely by coincidence to avoid exposing dear Tabby to the sorts of cruelty your kind are capable of when you're out for revenge."

Again Nathaniel tried to protest but Johnston shook his head. 

"I know what you're trying to say. You're trying to say this is a mistake and that you're an innocent man. That's why you're here, with the good doctor, instead of in jail," Johnston said, leaning close to Nathaniel's face and lowering his voice. "You see, you will never meet a man more loyal to his king and country than me. But the courts these days are rather toothless. You would spend a few weeks in jail and then walk out free after a quick trial. It would be your word against the word of a whore and yet another pirate would escape justice, free to enjoy the spoils of his crimes without consequence."

Johnston straightened himself up and looked down his nose at Nathaniel. "But I know the truth. I take Tabitha at her word, she's never lead me wrong yet. I know honest sailors do not come by hundreds of crowns, I know those cuts on your arms are from a blood oath meant to secure your silence."

Nathaniel watched as Johnston turned and walked away, quickly disappearing from Nathaniel's limited view. He heard Johnston speak one last time, "The doctor will take care of you now. He has some rather interesting ideas and needs subjects to test them on, and I am happy to provide him with what he needs in the form of men too slippery for the law to hold. Chances are you'll die like everyone else I've brought but maybe he'll learn something from you, some good will come from your existence in the end."

Boots walking up wooden stairs and a door slamming signaled that Nathaniel was alone with the old man.

"Now we may begin our important work, yes?" the old man said, patting Nathaniel gently on the arm. He began to putter around the small room and wheeled a metal canister next to the wooden table, attaching a hose coming out of the top of the canister to the tube in Nathaniel's mask.

"My good captain tells me you are a pirate, so you would be familiar with Aether," the doctor said as he began carefully adjusting knobs on the cannister and scribbling notes in a black-bound book, speaking in a quiet voice as he worked. "Bit of a misnomer, that. Aether was first discovered while searching for the substance that the natural philosophers believe fills the space between the heavenly bodies, providing the medium for the heat and light of the sun to travel through."

The doctor pulled a chair next to Nathaniel and sat down. "This gas likely isn't the heavenly medium but the name stuck. It is truly a miraculous substance, truly miraculous. It took decades for the feeble minds of our race to grasp its potential and learn to produce it in practical quantities. Not only does it possess exceptional lifting force when heated, its lifting force increases when compressed. Compressed!"

The doctor raised his hands and Nathaniel could hear him slapping his legs. "Absolutely defied all the laws the natural philosophers had claimed to discover about the nature of gasses and buoyancy and the like. It revolutionized the world, powering machines and allowing the construction of great ships to master the sky."

Nathaniel could hear a metallic squeaking sound. A bitter, metallic scent filled his nostrils. His heart began to pound in his chest and he struggled in vain against his restraints. The doctor, ignoring him, continued.

"However, I think there is more to Aether than powering machines. I believe that this gas is the distilled essence of life itself. Now, now, I know what you're thinking. Aether causes those exposed to it to develop lesions and tumours and an early death. Think of how it's made, coaxed from decaying plant and animal matter by Callers like myself. What could it be if not the animating force, concentrated? Kings and queens and generals have their lives extended through the rituals we callers perform for them, enjoying years donated by loyal subjects."

The doctor stood up and began pacing the room. "I believe that the gas could be the secret of long life, perhaps even immortality, for everyone, not just a few powerful individuals. If I am correct, I simply need to discover the correct mixture of gas. The difference between poison and medicine is the dose, as it is said. Aether causes terrible lesions and tumors in those exposed to it but if I am correct I simply need to expose you to it slowly. Think of a man who eats too much, too quickly after being starved. Or a man consumed by drink! He regularly consumes such quantities of spirits as to kill other men and suffers terribly when deprived of drink. I just need to get the mixture right..." the doctor trailed off, eyes distant.

The doctor once again patted Nathaniel on the arm. "Try to get some rest, now. The restraints are quite secure, struggling will only wear you out."

Nathaniel was left alone, only a faint hiss from the Aether canister could be heard. He was exhausted and his head hurt. There were no windows in this small room so he had no way to tell how much time passed. He drifted in an out of consciousness. He fought to stay awake, his dreams were filled the familiar nightmares of the people he had killed over the years. Screaming, crying, groaning, bleeding. Sometimes he saw Tabitha's face, cruel and filled with contempt for him. Other times he saw her smiling, laughing, eyes looking up at him full of passion. This hurt more than the hatred. Nathaniel was used to being hated, he had seen hateful eyes too many times to count, heard every manner of curse. Tabitha was the only kind face he could remember seeing since he was forced onto a Royal Navy vessel a lifetime ago.

Would it hurt less if it had been anyone else? If he was awaiting execution in a jail, caught by the port authorities or overcome in a battle in the sky, would he be more accepting of his fate? Nathaniel wept, alone in the dark room, from his feelings of helplessness and impotent rage but also from his changing feelings for Tabitha. One moment his chest would burn with anger as he cursed her betrayal, wishing he had simply gone east by himself to the capital, past the mountains and leaving Tabitha as nothing more than a fun memory to look back on. The next moment he cursed himself for revealing his past to her, perhaps if he had told her he won the money gambling or saved it by thrifty living he could convince her and they would be on their way to a new life together.

His breathing became laboured, a tingling began in his fingers and toes and crept slowly up his limbs. He was feeling lightheaded, his throat hurt and coughing did nothing to remove the irritation. Occasionally the doctor would enter the room but no longer spoke to Nathaniel, merely examining his body and scribbling notes before leaving.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, it felt like an eternity. Every breath was a struggle. Nathaniel could no longer feel the table under his back, even his thoughts were sluggish. A coughing fit took him, his body convulsed as much as his restraints would allow, then he exhaled and lay still. Nathaniel felt like he was falling, not just down but away from everything. He heard a voice, faintly, but the words meant nothing to him. "Five parts per hundred mixture still too high. Next subject will start at four parts" and then he fell into utter nothingness.

A sky pirate's last Flight - Part 7

 The sun had been fully set for some time when Nathaniel and Tabitha arrived at the row of townhouses. Nathaniel breathed easier but still kept a nervous eye on his surroundings. He disliked being out in the city at night. Even though he spent half his life flying among pirates, he never felt as unsafe as he did in a port after dark. On a ship he knew everyone and everyone knew him. Disputes were settled quickly, anyone who threatened the smooth operation of the ship would receive swift, often brutal, discipline at the hands of the quartermaster. 

In a city, however, everyone was a stranger. Pickpockets could be anywhere, any sailor caught by himself could be robbed at knifepoint, a group of men leaving a shift in the factories was indistinguishable from a gang looking to make a name for themselves. Sailors were instructed to stick together while on leave but it was not unusual for sailors to disembark and never be seen again, their crewmates left to wonder if they jumped ship, ended up in prison for some crime or another, or if they met a more sinister end.

"That should be the one," Tabitha said, gesturing at one of the many nearly identical doors, "and I can see a light in the window so he should still be awake."

The pair made their way up the steps and Tabitha knocked on the door. A few moments pass and the door opened to a man around the same age as Nathaniel. His clothes weren't particularly fancy but still nicer than anything Nathaniel had ever worn. He held up an oil lantern to examine his visitors.

"Tabitha?" he asked in surprise.

"Good evening, Captain Johnston. Can we come in? My companion and I need to ask you a favor." 

Johnston hesitated for a moment before nodding and standing aside. Nathaniel and Tabitha entered and were lead into a small den lit by a fireplace. A half-empty glass of some dark liquid and a book were resting on a table by a chair next to the fireplace.

"Tabitha, please take my seat and let me know what favour it is you need of me," Johnston said, placing his oil lantern on a small stand next to the chair. Tabitha made her way to the chair and took Johnston's arm as he lowered her onto the seat. 

"Thank you, sir." Tabitha said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on the man's cheek. Nathaniel knew what her profession had been for all the years he knew her, a simple kiss should not make him jealous, yet seeing Tabitha's face linger next to another man's face for even a few seconds made him feel strange.

"But before we get down to business, a drink," the man said as he straightened himself and made his way over to a shelf containing several large bottles. Tabitha glanced at Nathaniel for a moment before turning her eyes away to the fireplace. What was that expression on her face? Was she embarrassed showing affection to another man in front of him? 

Johnston picked up a glass cup and a heavy bottle, poured a drink and held it out. Nathaniel reached to grab the glass when Johnston swung the bottle and it connected hard with the side of Nathaniel's head. He was on the floor now, he didn't even remember falling. Dazed, he rolled onto his back. He saw a fist and then everything went black.

When Nathaniel awoke his head throbbed. He felt something in his mouth. Cloth? He tried to move but his hands and feet were bound tight. He was in some sort of rough wooden crate.

"Ah, good, you're awake," said a man's voice and Johnston's face appeared above Nathaniel. "I was beginning to think I hit you too hard. Tabitha wanted to speak to you before I took you away."

Nathaniel's head hurt too much to think. Tabitha's face appeared in the opening of the crate, her red hair hanging low and framing her face, her lips were tight and her eyes cold.

"I hate you," she said, her voice devoid of all warmth. It was so different from her usual lively tone that Nathaniel blinked in surprise. "I hate you, and all your kind." she continued. "I didn't want this life. I was supposed to be married, I was supposed to be happy, but your kind took everything from me."

The cold, calm of her voice sent a chill down Nathaniel's spine. "I was engaged, you know. Before. I was travelling by airship with my parents and fiancé when a storm blew our ship off course, separated us from our convoy. Pirates attacked us. We weren't even trying to fight back but they murdered us in cold blood. I saw everyone I loved in this world killed right before my eyes. They took some of us prisoner to sell. The things they did to us... well, I wasn't entirely unprepared for the kind of work Madam Vivienne had in mind for me." She paused for a moment, eyes full of contempt as she stared down at the bound man before her.

"She got me cheap, Vivienne. Infection had set in my legs, wounded during the attack, so the good Madam got a discount when she 'rescued' us girls from the pirates. By the time we made it back to Robert's Anchorage they were turning gangrenous. She made me a deal, she'd pay for the surgeon and prosthetics if I agreed to work for her until my debt was repaid. For five years I worked for that woman, being leered at on stage by men like you, pawed and groped and washing your filth off me once you've had your fun."

Nathaniel tried to speak but all he could manage through his gag were muffled grunts. Tabitha ignored him and continued to speak, no hint of emotion in her voice.

"And then you come along tonight, thinking you were different from any of the other men who bought time in my bed. You used me just like the rest. Well, except for Captain Johnston here," Tabitha said, raising her eyes to look at the other man. "He'd pay for a night with me and all we'd do is talk, or read, or just sleep quietly. Wouldn't even take me when I offered. A true example of gentlemanly conduct for a Royal Navy officer. I'd tell him whatever rumors I learned, men love to boast, trying to impress me with their crimes, and the good Captain would make sure justice found them one way or another."

Tabitha paused for a moment. "You could have left at any time, you had a choice and you chose to stay. I didn't, if I even thought of leaving without paying back Vivienne... well, I can leave now." With that her face disappeared from view. Nathaniel could her the sound of her legs growing faint as Captain Johnston stepped away and returned a moment later with a bottle in one hand and a rag in the other. 

"Well, it's time we got you out of here," Johnston said as he tipped the bottle over into the rag. "We've got a bit of a ride ahead of us and I would like to get back before I lose too much sleep tonight."

Nathaniel inhaled as deep as he could when he saw the rag coming towards him. With no other options he held his breath and struggled fruitlessly against his restraints. The rag was held firm against his face, a sickly sweet smell wafting into his nostrils. A swift blow to his gut forced the breath from his lungs and Nathaniel, against his will, inhaled deeply. He felt dizzy, the room was spinning, then everything went black.

Part 8 - Finale

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 6

 Tabitha lead Nathaniel out of her room. The bouncers turned away from their card game and one began to stand up but Tabitha assured the man that everything was ok and he slumped back down in his chair. The pair made their way up a flight of stairs and down a broad hallway, stopping at a set of double doors at the end. Tabitha took a deep breath and knocked on the doors.

"Come in." 

Tabitha opened one of the doors and entered with Nathaniel following close behind. Madam Vivienne's office was narrow, only as wide as the hallway. It was built on top of the partition that separated the entertainment hall in the front from the rooms in the back. Two sets of windows on either side allowed Vivienne to watch over both areas, while a third, smaller window behind her desk allowed a view of the street just outside her establishment. A rope ladder anchored to the wall would also allow her to escape the building if the need should arise.

"Tabitha, my dear, how can I help you?" Vivienne asked, looking up from the papers on her desk and eyeing the couple up and down. She was an older woman, face lined with wrinkles and hair completely white, but she still maintained a dignified beauty about her in her burgundy coloured dress. Across from her was a thin man in a suit who turned in his seat, pen in hand. One either side of the door were two large men, ready to intervene if anyone attempted to cause trouble for Vivienne.

"We want to leave, together." Tabitha stated with a glance at Nathaniel.

"I see," Vivienne replied as she stood from her desk and turned to look out the window behind her. "While I am always happy when one of my girls finds love, or whatever might pass for it, there is the matter of your debt."

"Nathaniel here is going to pay it off for me."

"Oh, is he now?" Vivienne said, turning back to the pair. "Are you aware, sir, that Tabitha's account is outstanding by over a hundred crowns?"

"Yes, she told me she owes you one hundred and seven."

"And you still want to settle her account for her? My my, she must have truly pleased you with her charms if you are willing to part with so great a sum for her," Vivienne stated as she sat back down in her seat and folded her hands on the desk. "Forgive my manners, sir, but I must be blunt. You do not strike me as a man of means and I will not accept credit of any kind."

"No, I have the money with me."

"Show me."

Nathaniel took his pack and dug out the coin purse again and pulled out a handful of coins to show the older woman. She raised an eyebrow.

"Very well. Pay Mr. Pike here and if everything is in order then Tabitha's account will be settled and she will be free to leave at any time."

Nathaniel began counting out the coins and placing them on the desk. Mr. Pike picked up each one, inspecting each one before arranging them in stacks of ten.

"Tabitha, my dear," Vivienne began as her bookkeeper counted the money, "I must caution you against this. How well do you know this man? Can you trust him? Oftentimes a man will claim to fall in love with a girl in your line of work but what he expects is a bedmate he doesn't have to pay who will do his cooking and housekeeping and will become angry, violently so, if she ever fails to perform her services with the same enthusiasm she did when he was paying her."

"I assure you, Madam, I would never harm-" Nathaniel began before Vivienne snapped her head to look him in the eye.

"Please spare me whatever promises you can think to make, sir," Vivienne said coldly. "I am not interested in whatever stories you have to tell. I am no fool, sir. You do not look like the sort of man who could come by this much money by honest means and I do not have the patience to endure attempts to deceive me. As long as your money is good then I will accept it and Tabitha's debt will be repaid."

"It's all good, Madam," Mr. Pike said as he placed the final coin on a stack.

"Then you, my dear, are a free woman. Do take care of yourself and if this man turns out to be less gentlemanly than he has lead you to believe, you will always have a home here if you want it."

"Thank you, Madam Vivienne. Please say goodbye to Maggy and Lizzy for me."

"I will, dear."

With that Tabitha turned and lead Nathaniel out of the office. She moved as quickly as her legs would allow but the mechanisms were timed to allow a steady walking pace, stairs required an awkward shifting side to side and running would be essentially impossible. Still, an improvement from the plain wooden pegs that many in her condition would have to endure. Out onto the main entertainment hall where patrons were beginning to fill the seats as a band was setting up their instruments on the stage and finally through the front doors and onto the streets. The sun was nearly set now and it would soon be dark.

"Let's hurry to Mr. Johnston's house now, we want to catch him before he turns in for the night." Tabitha said. 

"Lead the way." Nathaniel replied. With that the pair set off, Tabitha's legs tapping loudly on the paving stones.

Part 7

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 5

 Nathaniel held Tabitha in his arms, savoring everything about the experience. Her slender body pressed against his, the feel of her dress fabric on his skin, and she smelled of some flower Nathaniel couldn't identify. Not that he needed to, whatever she smelled like would be a welcome change from the sweat, piss, and smoke of the Hound. 

Eventually Tabitha pulled out of Nathaniel's arms and made her way to the bed and sat down, her legs clicking with each step. Nathaniel was still amazed at the workmanship of her prosthetics. Attached to her thighs just above where her knees would be, they were made of polished wood and brass with intricate clockwork mechanisms that allowed the artificial joints to bend as she put weight on them and would spring back into position when she lifted her 'feet' off the ground, allowing her to move more naturally than mere wooden pegs would permit.

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to drink?" she said, gesturing at a small table scross from her where wine and a bowl of assorted fruit were laid. Nathaniel realized just how hungry he was, particularly for food that wasn't heavily salted meat or hardtack. He was too nervous to eat just yet, though.

"No, thank you. Maybe later," he replied as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Actually, I have something I want to ask you but I'm not sure how to say it."

"Oh?" Tabitha said, leaning back and raising an eyebrow. "In the mood for something... different?"

"Yes, I, sort of," Nathaniel stammered. "But not in the way you think!" he added quickly before sitting next to Tabitha. "I want you to come away with me."

"Well, that can be arranged. Madam Vivienne requires a significant deposit before she'll allow us to escort you outside of the building-"

"No, not like that," Nathaniel interrupted her, placing his rough hand on her small and smooth one. "I want you to leave this place behind and come with me. I'm done with the sailor's life. I'm going to head east, maybe find work in the capital or on a farm outside the city or something. Anything, just as long as it's on the ground."

"Oh, Nathaniel," Tabitha replied softly. "You want me to play the farmer's wife?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. I don't want you to think we have to get married. We could, if that's what you want but I don't want you to think you have to. And it doesn't have to be the farmer's wife, I'm not sure what I'll be doing. I just think it'd be nice if you were with me when I figured it out."

"Oh, Nathaniel," Tabitha said again, shaking her head. "Do you know how many men have asked me to marry them in my bed?" After a pause she continued: "More than I can count. The idea almost always leaves their heads once the blood can flow back into them. Or they realize I wouldn't just stay hidden in their beds all day. All of their friends and family would know they're married to the clockwork whore," she said, her face darkening and bitterness obvious in her voice.

Nathaniel put his arm around Tabitha and gently kissed the side of her head. "Well, I don't have any family and all my friends are sailing away on the Hound," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Besides, we'd be leaving this place and starting over where nobody knows who we are or what we've done."

Tabitha sat in silence, occasionally glancing over at Nathaniel. At last she broke the awkward silence. "Why? Why me?"

"I don't know," he replied, "I've just always enjoyed your company."

"All of my customers do," she said with a laugh. "One man enjoyed my company so much he tried to convince me to live with him but since his wife wouldn't approve of a live-in whore I'd have to work as his maid for the privilege of letting him use me whenever he pleased."

"I didn't mean it like that. I mean, yes, I enjoy laying with you but I also enjoy our talks and hearing you laugh."

Tabitha looked at Nathaniel, who gave her a weak smile, before she turned and look down at her legs.

"I couldn't leave with you, even if I wanted to. I owe a debt to Madam Vivienne," she said, gesturing at her legs. "When infection took hold in my legs, they were turning gangrenous. Madam Vivienne paid for a surgeon to remove them and had an inventory craft these, and they did not come cheaply."

"How much?"

"A lot. It'll take me at least another year to pay off, assuming business remains steady."

"A year?" Nathaniel replied in shock. He was never good with sums but he knew how much a night with Tabitha cost.

"At least. If business slows down it'll take even long. Doesn't matter, I've already been paying her for five years, what's one or two more?"

"How much?" Nathaniel asked again.

"One hundred and seven crowns."

"A hundred and seven? Is that all? But I paid ten just for one night!"

"I don't get to keep it all." Tabitha said with a laugh. Not a laugh of derision but of genuine amusement. "The house keeps most of it. Madam Vivienne deducts wages to pay for the bouncers, the entertainers, she charges us for food and lodging, and for the medicine that keeps us from becoming ill or with child. After everything adds up there's not much left to go towards settling my account."

Nathaniel nodded. He should have known that the women working her wouldn't keep all of what was paid, it was obvious in hindsight, but he figured they would keep most or at least a significant portion of their fees.

"Lots of girls here owe Madam Vivienne something. Some of the girls start off just working as dancers but girls not working the beds only get paid with what's left over after everything else gets paid. If not enough business comes in then their pay is often less than what the house charges them for food and lodgings and their debts only grow. If I just stuck to dancing I'd die of old age before I even paid a quarter of what I owed."

A few moments of silence pass. "I can pay it," Nathaniel said quietly.

"How? Are you going to take my place on your back? Because Madam doesn't hire men-"

Nathaniel interrupted her. "No, I have money. I can pay off your debt and we'd still have some left over to start our new lives together. But you wouldn't have to stay with me if you don't want to! I'd like to have you with me but I don't want you to think I'm buying you. I want you to have a new life, not a new employer."

"Nathaniel, I'm confused. Is this a game you want to play? I know some men like to play pretend in the bedroom-"

"No, I'm serious. Let me prove it to you."

Nathaniel stood up and walked over to the pack he had discarded on the floor. He dug around inside and found his carefully hidden money bag wrapped up in his change of clothes. He opened the purse and showed Tabitha the collection of gold coins inside.

"How did you come by so much money?" she said after a moment of staring into the bag. "I know how much sailors earn, it would take a lifetime to save up that much."

Nathaniel froze. In all of his daydreaming about this moment he only imagined that she would reject him or would accept his offer and they would leave together. It had never even crossed his mind that Tabitha would want to know where his money came from. 

"Well? How did you get this?" she asked, her serious tone interrupting Nathaniel's thoughts. His mind raced as he looked into her quizzical, searching eyes. What could he tell her? She was right, there was no way for a common sailor to earn that much money honestly, even the most frugal captain or quartermaster would be hard pressed to save up two hundred crowns at once. Inheritance? She would know that a sailor would not come from a family who could leave that much money behind. Success at gambling? Surely she wouldn't want a husband who gambles with half a year's wages. In the end he decided he had to tell her the truth. Or, most of the truth.

"Tabby, I... before I was on the Hound, I spent years working on... less reputable ships."

"Less- a pirate?" she exclaimed, pulling her hand back from his as she recoiled. "You're a pirate?"

"Was! I'm not anymore, I left that behind. I swear to you, I'm an honest man now!"

"How is that possible? I thought pirates killed traitors and deserters."

"They do, it's true. But pirates are mostly free to come and go as they please," Nathaniel spoke quickly now, as if speed would make Tabitha understand quicker. "If a pirate wants to leave his ship he's free to as long as the ship is in port. He has to swear an oath to keep his crewmate's secrets until he dies. And if possible the captain will have a Caller perform a ritual, a blood oath, where the Caller inscribes curses for betrayal and blessings for loyalty onto a piece of paper and then the man leaving the ship seals it by cutting himself and putting his bloody handprints on it."

Tabitha remained silent, her body still leaned away from Nathaniel. She eyed him up and down as he spoke. 

"The rituals bring misfortune to anyone who betrays their comrades, but there's also more practical ways of enforcing silence," Nathaniel continued, trying to avoid even a moment of silence. "If any pirate is strongly suspected to have told port authorities about his former crewmates, anyone who finds him will kill him. If he's lucky he'll just be stabbed and left to bleed in an alley. But if possible he'll be brought on board a ship and tortured to death and the men will draw it out as long as possible. 'The Fate of Traitors' it's called. I've only seen it once, they flayed a man over the course of a week."

"That's awful," Tabitha replied, covering her mouth in shock. "Are all of your kind so cruel?"

Nathaniel's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. "You misunderstand, Tabby. Not all of us are like that. Some pirates are vicious, yes, and some are just ordinary sailors who turn a blind eye to the illegal dealings of their cremates, most fall somewhere in between."

"And you? Did you kill anyone?"

"I did. And I'm not proud of it, I took no pleasure in it."

"Then why did you do it? Why did you join with such people if you didn't enjoy murder?"

"I didn't have a choice, not at first," Nathaniel said, standing up and pacing the small room. "When I was fifteen years old a band of sailors from a Royal frigate took me off the streets. 'The right of impressment' they called it. Said the law gave them the right to force any man to serve on a ship that was short of hands. I never even got to tell my parents. As far as they know I simply didn't come home one day. I was on that frigate for four months. Starved, worked until I couldn't stand, and publicly flogged for even the slightest hint of defiance or even not working fast enough."

Nathaniel stood in the middle of the room and looked at Tabitha, his expression stern. "Four months I sailed on that frigate against my will, beaten for not performing duties I didn't choose to take on. We were patrolling the skies, hunting pirates who had been openly attacking transports in the area. We found pirates, or rather, they found us. A pirate captain by the name of Uriah lead an ambush made up of a dozen modified transport vessels he had captured. Our frigate was hopelessly outgunned. When we were boarded our officers tried to order us to fight back even though we were outnumbers five to one. An older sailor said to me, 'Boy, throw down your weapon and raise your hands to the sky. If you fight back and lose they'll treat you so cruel you'll pray to all the gods who've ever been named in hopes one of 'em will kill you. If you surrender they might let you live or they'll just kill you quick.'"

Tabitha only sat in silence. Nathaniel took a deep breath before continuing. "I put the club they gave me down and so did most of my comrades. The pirates rounded us up and gave us sailors two options: Join him as pirates or be thrown overboard. Most of us decided to join. The officers weren't given a choice, and the few sailors who refused were all thrown over the edge of the ship. Uriah was true to his word and any man who joined him was free to leave after serving aboard his ships for a year. I had no idea what else to do so I served under various captains until I left a few years ago and took up honest sailing."

Nathaniel suddenly felt shaky, exhausted, but also free, like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Tabitha sat in silence, her eyes wandering over Nathaniel's face and body.

"You swear to me that you took this oath years ago, and you've been on an honest ship since we met?" she said at last, her eyes fixed on Nathaniel's.

"I do, I swear it." Nathaniel said, kneeling before her and taking her hand. "I've left all of that behind me and I want to start a new, quiet life, hopefully with you."

"Very well," Tabitha said with a nod. "Let's leave tonight."

Nathaniel was taken aback. "Tonight?" he asked, surprise obvious in his voice.

"Yes, let's not wait. I have a customer who works for the railyard. He owes me a favor, he can arrange passage for us on a train leaving for the capital in the morning," Tabitha said, rising off the bed as her legs clicked into position. "But first, we must pay a visit to Madam Vivienne to settle my account before you get a chance to think too much."

Part 6

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 4

 The city was crowded, noisy, and the stench made Nathaniel feel like gagging. Life on a ship was cramped, dirty, noisy, and he never had a moment's privacy but somehow being in the city felt worse. On the Hound he knew every man, every man knew his place and his duty, disputes were quickly settled before the quartermaster had to intervene to maintain the harmonious function of the ship. Down here, on land, Nathaniel's eyes could see a hundred strangers no matter which direction he looked. The din of unfamiliar voices  chattering away, wagon drivers shouting at pedestrians and each other. Then there was the smell, worse than anything he was forced to endure on the Hound. Horse manure in the streets, human waste flowing through sewers built for a city half the size, and always the smoke and chemical scent from the factories. 

Nathaniel hurried as quickly as he could through the streets, making his way north, past warehouses and factories and squalid apartment to the edge of the industrial district bordering on the old city. Robert's Anchorage had grown immensely in the hundred years following the Great War. Originally little more than a hub for surrounding farming communities, the city's location made it an ideal location for cargo going between the western and eastern coasts. Mooring towers were built to serve the ever growing fleet of airships sailing the skies between the western cities, and a railroad was constructed to move goods that were too heavy for airship to be practical.

Madam Vivienne's House of Entertainment was in an old warehouse that sat right on the edge of the old and new city making it convenient for both the labourers and sailors of the industrial district and the more well-to-do men of the old city. Any time, day or night, Madam Vivienne's was open to anyone who wanted a drink, something to eat, games of chance, to dance with the girls of the house, or to enjoy a show on the large central stage. The real draw of Madam Vivienne's, however, was the back half of the building where two dozen bedrooms were constructed for those looking for companionship from Madam Vivienne's ladies. This was where the house made its money. The food and drink, the musicians and dancers and comedians and magicians, all served primarily to act as a cover, providing a legitimate reason for husbands and politicians to visit the establishment.

Nathaniel arrived in the late afternoon. There were a few men seated at the tables playing cards, some with attractive young ladies seated on their laps. A lone woman was seated on the stage playing the hurdy-gurdy. Watching from the corners were several large men. The bouncers looked bored but soon the evening crowd would be arriving and the men would have their hands full keeping the peace. Nathaniel felt a great relief to be off the streets. He had hidden his coin purse deep within his pack and made sure to keep moving but deep down he felt as though just having that much money on him would summon pickpockets or robbers as if they could sense his wealth.

"Drink? Sumthin' to eat?" the short, curvy bartender said to Nathaniel as he approached.

"Room, actually." he replied.

"Very good, love. Any room good? Or did you have a particular one in mind?"

"Tabitha's room, please. If it's still available."

The bartender reached beneath her counter and pulled out a small wooden rectangle, painted red with the name "Tabitha" written on it in yellow letters on both sides. "You're in luck, love." she said with a smile as she handed it to him. Nathaniel thanked her and made his way past the bar into a narrow hallway. At the end were two more large men standing beside a closed door. Nathaniel flashed his token and the man on the right opened the door and nodded.

Once inside Nathaniel made his way down a broader hallway. Three more bouncers were playing cards at a table against the right wall. The wall to the left had 3 rows of doorways with stairs at either end of the hall leading up to walkways for the second and third story. Nathaniel walked to the end of the hallways and opened the last door. He knew this room well, he stayed here nearly every time he had leave in Robert's Anchorage for the past three years. He came to Madam Vivienne's with some of the other crew who had been there before. That night was when he first saw Tabitha dancing on the stage and he was immediately captivated by her. Long, wavy red hair, fair skin, and light blue eyes. What set her apart was not her appearance or even her skill as a dancer. No, what drew Nathaniel's eye to her initially were her intricate, mechanical legs that clicked as she danced jerkily, imitating a marionette. That first night with her cost Nathaniel almost everything he had earned on the previous voyage.

Nathaniel's heart was racing. He wondered what he would say. Up until this point it seemed so easy, simply ask if she'd like to leave Madam Vivienne's behind and join him starting a new life further east. Now the idea seemed so foolish. Why would she leave this behind? He knew how much a night with her cost, what could he offer her above that? He didn't even know what he was going to do next.

The sound of metal clicking on wood interrupted Nathaniel's thoughts. He turned and saw Tabitha standing in the doorway, wearing a short, low-cut black and purple dress that contrasted with her pale skin and showed off her polished wood and metal legs.

"Nathaniel, so good to see you again." she said with a smile. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her before walking over to Nathaniel to embrace him, her legs clicking and whirring with each step.

Part 5

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 3

Two hundred and thirteen crowns. Nathaniel had never possessed such money at one time in his life. He had come into significant sums before following successful raids but only a few dozen crowns at most. Enough to buy himself boots, medicine, good food and drink, and a few nights at a brothel while the ship was anchored at port. Two hundred crowns was over half of what most men would make in a year and some of the skilled sailors would earn a double share, while the captain, quartermaster, and Caller would earn triple. Nathaniel was never good at sums but even he knew that the Old Singing Hound had captured a fortune. Almost certainly embezzled from someone very powerful, the crew were warned to limit their spending while in Port. The sorts of people who can have tens of thousands of crowns stolen from them will almost certainly notice if a crew suddenly shows up spending huge sums recklessly.

Nathaniel was done. He had grown tired of sleeping on bare wooden floors, of eating salted meat and hardtack, of being afraid the Hound's illegal activities would be discovered and winding up with a noose around his neck, of long stretches of boredom punctuated by sudden bursts of terror and violence. Mostly he was tired of seeing the faces of the men, women, and children he's killed over the years in his dreams, hearing their screams and sobs and curses as he slept. With thrifty living he could make his share of the spoils from this journey last for months so Nathaniel made the decision to live the pirate's life behind when the ship docked in Robert's Anchorage.

As it happens Nathaniel was not the only member of the crew to decide to leave. All told, six men informed Captain Morris of their intention to leave once the ship was anchored. Fewer than Nathaniel expected but he was not surprised. Life on land would still require hard, often dangerous work for meager pay and with no chance of sudden wealth. The skies were familiar and all too often familiar danger was preferable to unknown safety.

Captain Morris called for the Caller, the quartermaster, and several of the ship's officers to join him in his cabin. A pirate was generally free to leave at any time but rarely did unless they had families with farms or businesses to return to. Work in the factories and warehouses were often just as dangerous as being aboard a pirate vessel and typically paid even less. All that is required of a sailor leaving a pirate vessel is that they swear an oath not to betray their former comrades and participate in a ritual to secure their silence.

The Caller arrived in Captain Morris' cabin, the ship's airscrew turning slower under entirely natural power from her steam engine. The Caller was in his fifties with weather-toughened skin and a greying beard. The only thing that set him aside from any other sailor was the long coat covered in pockets that he wore. Each pocket was filled with types of ink, quills, paper, or substances symbolically representing some element the Caller was trying to invoke: A lump of coal, feathers, a vial of water or sand, and the like. 

Nathaniel was the first to go. The Old Singing Hound would be anchored in a couple of hours and he wanted to leave as soon as he could. It would be mid afternoon and he wanted to make his way to Madam Vivienne's house of entertainment before the evening crowds came in and someone else hired Tabitha for the night. He always asked for her when he was in Robert's Anchorage ever since he first saw her dancing three years ago, mimicking a marionette on her elaborate mechanical legs. Nathaniel doubted she would leave her life behind to join him when he didn't even know where he was going but the way he saw it he had nothing to lose. Either she said yes and joined him, or she said no and he wouldn't see her again anyways once he was no longer taking leave in Robert's Anchorage every few months.

A long piece of paper was laid out on Captain Morris' desk. The Caller hunched over and drew a rune on the left side of the page. "Betrayal." he stated. On the right side of the paper he drew another rune, stating "Loyalty." He then began drawing runes surrounding the first two. Around the left he would draw a rune and state "Pain," "Sickness," "Suffering," "Ruin," "Death," and the like. Around the right, "Wealth," "Prosperity," "Safety," "Long Life." The Caller handed Nathaniel a knife.

"Take the knife in your left hand and cut your right forearm. Thus the penalty of betrayal is inflicted by your own hand." Nathaniel winced from the pain. He placed his hand over the wound and then pressed it against the page, leaving a bloody handprint over the rune representing betrayal. 

"Take the knife in your right hand and cut your left forearm. This affirms your intention not to betray those you have sailed with, even if your loyalty demand the shedding of your blood." Nathaniel repeated the same process as before, leaving a bloody handprint over the rune representing loyalty. 

"We gathered here today bear witness to your oath." Captain Morris stated, the officers echoing his words. With that Nathaniel was finished the ritual and exited the cabin as the next sailor in line entered.

Part 4

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 2

 The trip back to the Hound was more quiet than usual. Normally the boat would be filled with boasting and  discussing plans for lewd activities once back on land. There was still some of that but it felt subdued to Nathaniel. Or perhaps it was all in his head. This was not be the first time the crew of the Hound had killed, Nathaniel himself had ended numerous lives over the years he had flown with pirates. It was easy enough to kill a man who was trying to kill him, even executing men was tolerable if it meant keeping himself and his crewmates from being executed by the Royal Navy. Throwing women and children overboard was always distasteful and this time it really stuck with Nathaniel. He knew he would be hearing the sound of the children screaming for their mother in his nightmares.

"Switch!" Grimsby cried. Nathaniel took his place at the crank that drove one of the boat's propellers and began turning. The trip back to the Hound felt longer than the trip out. It would nearly be sunset by the time they met up with the rest of the crew. There would likely be a celebration on the Hound that night. The food and drink they looted was far richer than the salted meat and hardtack the crew would normally have. Captain Morris only allowed half of it to be taken. The rest would be left in the hold to go down with the ship when it was set ablaze. Pirates this close to civilized society needed to be careful. Plundered ships were always burned so that their wrecks could be explained as an accident, their passengers and crew's deaths would be seen as leaping to choose a quick death from striking the earth over the pain of the flames. Enough cargo left in the hold so that it would not be obvious to anyone who discovered the wreck that the ship had been plundered. If the Royal Navy heard too many rumours of pirate activity they would be forced to take action and the area could become very dangerous to make a profit in for years to come.

What Captain Morris did insist on looting completely were the lockboxes and bags of money. A small fortune, far more than any one man should have aboard a small, unescorted vessel. "I would bet my share of loot for a year that this man was embezzling from someone whose bad side you don't want to be on." the captain had said. "The sorts of man who can lose this much money is not the sort who will be particularly forgiving to thieves."

The boat finally reached the ship and unloaded quickly. Medical supplies were safely stored in the galley since the Hound's cook also doubled as her surgeon when required. The food and wine would be consumed that night, it would not keep long enough to be worth rationing and the Hound would be restocked once they reached Robert's Anchorage.

A loud cheer went up as Captain Morris opened one of the lockboxes, revealing the coins inside. This was what the Hound's men sailed with her for. The captain and the quartermaster would count and divide the money, assigning each man a share according to his rank but would keep the riches inside the captain's quarters until the ship was safely docked and then men could disembark for ground leave. Men fighting and killing each other over missing coins would not be beneficial for the smooth operation of the ship. 

The celebrations lasted long into the night. Nathaniel was not in a festive mood but forced himself to partake. The noise would not allow sleep to come easy and even if he did manage to ignore the sound and drift off he knew the nightmares would not make it restful. Eventually Captain Morris retired to his cabin and the celebrations turned quiet afterwards. Nathaniel, belly full and wine-warmed, drifted off into an uneasy sleep on the deck.

Part 3

A sky pirate's last Flight - part 1

 "No captives, no witnesses." Those were Captain Morris' words as he and the crew of the Old Singing Hound approached the lonely vessel adrift in the sky. A lookout had spotted her earlier in the day. The spyglass revealed she had lost her primary airscrew, leaving her at the mercy of the winds. There was fierce debate among the officers if they should even attempt to raid a vessel this close to a major city. Robert's Anchorage was still a few days' flight and they were approaching from a less travelled direction but there was always the risk that some other vessel would catch them in the act. Reports of pirate activity would force the Royal Navy to increase patrols and conduct more thorough inspections at ports throughout the region. Bad news for anyone who preferred to make some extra money by less legitimate means.

Careful scanning of the sky revealed no one else in the airspace nearby and Captain Morris was able to convince the other officers that this was too rich an opportunity to pass up. The lonely vessel was a smaller craft with side-mounted Aether bags and a flat, open top deck, the sort that was popular as personal transportation for the wealthy. The Captain would lead a boarding party of a dozen airmen on one of the Hound's boats and Nathaniel was among those chosen to join him. 

Nathaniel had sailed with Captain Morris for several years. Morris tended to prefer quieter jobs. Smuggling, trafficking, and often did legitimate transportation work when he sailed too far from the less law-abiding skies in the southeast and that was fine by Nathaniel. Perhaps in his younger days he could stand or even enjoy the excitement of daring raids on merchant convoys and fierce battles with Royal Navy ships. Fifteen years of the pirate's life was beginning to take it's toll on him. Sleeping on the wooden floor, often faced with hunger and sickness and injury in battle, Nathaniel was mostly content with his Captain's quieter approach to business but he knew that not everyone on board would be. If a sailor would be content with honest wages he would be on an honest ship. This forced Captain Morris to find ways to line his crew's pockets or risk being removed from his ship, likely by violent means.

"We'll be upon our mark momentarily!" cried the pilot, "doesn't look like she's armed as near as I can see."

"Men on deck?" Captain Morris shouted back.

"I count six on the deck. One of them has a crossbow, looks like."

"Grimsby! I want you to take out the man with the crossbow. Leave the rest for us unless they produce anything with range. Jules, you remain on board with Grimsby. Dirk, you're on the harpoon. Follow once the rest of us have made it across."

Nathaniel felt his heart racing. This was always the nerve-wracking part of any boarding operation. Sitting, waiting, not knowing if he would make back alive or in one piece if he did. He and his crewmates would outnumber the sailors on the deck of the other vessel by nearly two to one but for all he knew the hold could be filled with veteran soldiers lying in ambush.

The pilot shouted orders to the men working the cranks that drove the propellers on either side of the boat, maneuvering her into position above their mark. The boat was only intended to shuttle crew and cargo to and from the Hound and lacked a proper engine but with a rotating team of sailors to crank the propellers, and runes inscribed on the blades to increase their pushing force, the boat was a capable boarding vessel and could fly for as long as the men could move their arms and the furnace warming the Aether sack could be kept burning. The Hound herself had a proper steam engine and even a Fire Caller in her employ to speed them along but for the boat there was nothing but the strength of the crew to move her.

The rear door began to open and the rush of wind past the opening in the back of the boat grew deafening. Nathaniel could see the sailors on deck now. The man with the crossbow raised it and let loose a single bolt that struck the ceiling of the boat above Nathaniel's head and clattered to the floor. 

"Just a wooden stake, not even metal tipped." Nathaniel thought to himself as he briefly inspected the projectile. Grimsby immediately returned fire. The tank of pressurized air on his back fed into a long metal pipe through a thick hose, propelling a lead ball at great speed with a loud hiss and a puff of vapor. The first two shots struck the floor beside the sailor as he desperately attempted to wind his crossbow for another shot but the third ball struck him in the side of the head and he fell to the ground. His crewmates did not even attempt to pick up his weapon, instead they ran to an angled set of doors at the rear of the ship. They pounded on the doors and pulled on the handles but the doors did not budge. Though he could not hear them over the sound of the wind, Nathaniel knew they were shouting for help from someone inside. 

"Dirk! Tether us!" Captain Morris shouted, barely audible over the howling. The bald sailor nodded and took hold of a large gun mounted to the ceiling of the boat. He took aim and in an instant a harpoon several feet long with a barbed metal head flew across the gap between the two vessels and dug deep into the deck of its target, a long rope trailing behind. Jules turned a winch on the boat's cargo crane until the rope was taught.

"Cross!" Captain Morris ordered as he hooked his tether to the rope and slide down to the other vessel, saber already drawn when he landed. One by one his crew followed him. Nathaniel was the last to cross. His heart was pounding now. He hooked his tether to the rope and jumped across. He tried not to look down but even so he knew that his life was entirely dependent on the leather straps of his tether and harness. If anything snapped there would be nothing he could do but wait for the end as he fell some three thousand feet to the ground below.

Once safely on deck Nathaniel followed his Captain towards the five remaining sailors. The other men had stopped pounding on the doors and were now on their knees, pleading with the approaching boarders. Nathaniel wished they had fought. It's easier to kill a man who's trying to kill you. Captain Morris had already given the command, though. No witnesses, no captives. This vessel was almost certainly from Robert's Anchorage. Too much risk of someone recognizing the men and outing the Hound as being a pirate vessel if she were inspected by the port authorities. The Hound had no need of additional hands at the moment and the profit from selling them as slaves in slaves at a more distant, lawless port was nothing compared to the risk of being caught with them aboard. 

One by one the sailors were taken to the aft of the ship and heaved over the railing. Their screams faded quickly as they fell to the earth below. Nathaniel knew that the sound would be added to the chorus of screams he heard in his nightmares. He would have to pick up some more Midnight Tincture in port to help him sleep. He tried not to use it too often. He had seen too many men consumed by it, wasting away to nothing as they chose the blissful stupor over even food. Sometimes, though, the nightmares kept him awake for too many nights and he had no choice but to use it so he could get some rest.

With the crew disposed of the Hound's men could get to work. Axes and prybars were brought to bear on the barricaded doors leading down into the ship. Once inside the crew found only the pilot and no other crew. The man begged to be allowed to join, offering his services as an experienced pilot of all manner and sizes of vessel. Still, Captain Morris' words were firm. "No witnesses, no captives." and the man continued to beg until he was thrown overboard.

Two of the Hound's men begin siphoning Aether from the vessel's bags. Not so much that the vessel would begin to sink too rapidly but enough to top off the Hound's supplies. The rest of the crew investigated the cargo hold and found it disappointingly sparse. Some crates of food and medical supplies were quickly hauled up to the top deck and loaded onto the via the cargo crane. The rest of the hold was mostly empty save for some trunks of clothing and small pieces of furniture. 

"Now, what's a vessel like this doing out here all alone." Captain Morris wondered allowed.

"And why did she remain in the air?" Nathaniel asked. "Her main screw is gone but she could have landed instead of staying aloft, waiting for anyone to come along."

"Good question, Nathaniel." Captain Morris replied, walking towards the aft of the cargo hold as Nathaniel followed. "If I had to guess," he continued, "the owner of this vessel ran into trouble back in Robert's Anchorage and had to leave in a hurry. Given he had some supplies already aboard he probably knew trouble would be coming for him and had to leave sooner than he expected."

The captain began tapping the back of an axe against the back wall of the hold. "He probably had to leave in a hurry, too. Put as much sky between him and the city, and whoever he was on the bad side of, as quickly as possible. Likely had his crew push the ship too hard and that's why she lost her screw."

The captain stopped and tapped the wall in the same space a few times. "Men! Axes, here!" he shouted. The crew began hacking at the wall, sending splinters flying. The wall gave way to the assault, revealing a hidden chamber behind. Prybars were placed into the gaps made by the axes and the concealed door creaked, groaned, and finally opened with the sound of cracking wood. Inside the crew found numerous lockboxes and coin purses. Huddled in the corner was a well dressed man with the smooth, pale skin of a wealthy man who had never known a day of hard labor. He was brandishing a small steel dagger in shaky hands. Behind him was a young woman with long blonde hair in a fine blue dress. Clinging to her were a pair of children, tears steaming down their terrified faces. 

Nathaniel frowned. He knew what had to be done. Captain Morris was quite clear from the moment the crew set out.

"No witnesses, no captives."

Part 2

Story ideas while running

 I love to run. I didn't used to, a few years ago running and exercising in general was something I had to force myself to do. Now I look forward to it. I put on my headphones, throw on a Playlist of whatever I'm into at the moment, and spend an hour in peace. I have a circuit I do near my home so that I'm never too far if I need to quit early and it makes it easy to track my distance.

One thing I like about running is that it gives me time to think about story ideas. A pirate's last flight was mostly written in my head over the course of a couple of mornings while running so when I actually got a chance to sit down and actually write I had 80% of the work already done.

This morning I was thinking about what I want to do next and had a few ideas knocking around in my noggin'. 

The big one that came to me today will be set in the same steampunk world that A pirate's last Flight is set in. It'll follow a former Aether factory worker and his quest for vengeance after an attempt to organize and demand better pay and safer working conditions was brutally crushed by strike breakers, resulting in numerous deaths of workers and their families. 

Another one I want to write soon is again set in the same world but will follow an airship with a pretentious name like "The Lighthouse of the Heavens"or something, which will be designed as a luxury cruise ship meant to house the ultra wealthy of the same world as the rest of my stories. I'm sure an enormous ship meant to house the ultra wealthy to literally place them above the common person will have a long and peaceful service life.

In an unrelated world I've also been thinking for a few years about a story set in a low fantasy world. It would follow an Inquisitor, a technically independent investigator charged with upholding the ideals of the Empire. Officially his order would be loyal to the ideals, not to the emperor or even the empire itself, but in reality the undisputed ruler of an entire continent will have some influence on the order. The empire would be mainly inspired by Rome and would be partially based on Aristotle. The Empirr would be officially atheist, though mystery cults would have their place. The Inquisitor, accustomed to rooting out corrupt officials and handling bribery scandals and other mundane crimes, would be faced with a growing incursion of supernatural phenomena and entities that fly against everything the philosophers taught him.about the world.

One story I want to write is a short based on Hannah Fury's "The Vampire Waltz." It wouldn't be my usual genre but that might be good thing, practice writing outside of my comfort zone. It wouldn't be a direct copy, not some sort of "novelization of the song" type deal, but it does inspire stories in me.