Voyage Flounder

Grath's glide to the klienah flower was relatively smooth. Once in range, he closed the pectoral wings and reeled in the dragline on the main balloon until the line went taut but not enough to pull the ship upwards into the sky. Next, he released the smallest lift balloon. It floated away rapidly, bringing the Flounder back into equilibrium with the air around it. Grath then finally tossed a weighted anchor line to the nearest petal of the massive flower. He missed... it was embarrassing, but no one was here to see his failure. He dragged the line up with excited, shaking hands. Many times he had seen the depictions of klienah flowers in the encyclopedias of sky traversal. But nothing compared to the bulk of the massive plant. Each petal was nearly as big as the Flounder. Their width was at least 30 imperial digits. After pulling the ship to the nearest massive petal, Grath attached more tethers from the ship's side. He didn't use wooden hooks but wrapped long strings around some of the floating tendrils that spiraled out from the flower's center. The nectar would be at its middle. Deep in the flower's heart. He could see large butterflies of all kinds fluttering about near there. "Almost forgot," he reeled in the main drag balloon fully now. Rule number 8 of airshipping: never leave a drag balloon slack and unattended. The slight pull of reeling the balloon in raised the flower a little in the sky, and Grath swore he could see its petals flex as its internal airsacks compensated for the pull. Smarter minds than his had dissected these plants and designed ballast sacks for ships from them. Someday maybe he could afford such a device, but until then it was weight sacks and lift balloons, a limited combination. He gathered his thin glass jars and checked his dura-shale dagger at his waist. Sometimes bees frequented these flowers. A stone dagger wouldn't do much against a swarm, but he could take a few pine bees. He thought about taking his paddle sword but decided against it. Better to get out than fight. Grath nimbly jumped down to the flower's nearest petal. The petal's bloated skin bent a little, but the plant's fiber was stiff like celery. He advanced to the flower's center, his tether line dragging behind him. Butterflies flapped and fluttered away from him magically as he reached the heart. Brushing aside the pollen anthers and filaments, he reached for the nectar at their base. Scooping with the jars and the flat of his shale dagger, he painstakingly scooped nectar into his first jar. There wasn't much. It was late fall, so he would likely only get one jar.

Flap flap flplflflfff

The noise of beating wings was subtle, but it boomed on Grath's ears like thunder. He whirled around, dagger raised, nectar jar sloshing in his left hand. A massive black-clad vulture landed gracelessly on the Flounder's mid-deck cabin wall. "HEYYYY!!! NOOO!!!" Grath shrieked at the giant bird. His blood ran cold as he set the jar down and picked up his tether rope in his left hand. Grath's right hand gripped the dagger, his knuckles white on the wood and leather-strapped handle. Common LeatherHead Vulture. Average height standing fully stretched: 9 imperial digits. Roughly a digit taller than Grath. Wingspan: 26 imperial digits. The vulture turned its wrinkled red head towards Grath's shout. It eyed him coldly, then turned back to the cabin. It extended its neck through one of the cabin's many windows. Grath sprinted across the flower. It was here for his dried meat. Fogborn monster, Grath cursed in his mind. I should have paid better attention to the sky. If it eats my dried meat and bread... He reached the edge of the flower and leapt to the ship. Descending the net of straps around the main balloon, Grath shouted obscenities at the bird. With a squawk, the vulture pulled its head free of the cabin's cloth and pine walls. Its shoe-sized beak latched onto a bag of dried meats. It flipped backward from the ship, its talons releasing awkwardly and tearing long slashes in the ship's cloth. The vulture tumbled momentarily, then righted itself with a series of wild flapping motions and soared up wide of the ship. Grath watched it. He knew better than to expect it to leave. Leatherheads are like a lot of giant carrion birds in that they will kill you before they give up on a good haul. Another vulture or eagle could scare it off, but a single human... No matter how dangerous Grath thought himself to be, the vulture would risk tussling with a lone traveler. Grath scrambled for the top deck, nearly tangling his tether line in the process. The klienah flower would help keep the Flounder stable, so at least he didn't have to worry about that. He needed better armaments. He reached his sleeping tent and drew his paddle sword and crossbow.

Hruuckhh!!!

The vulture made a deep guttural grunt as Grath pulled out the crossbow. It recognized the weapon. Splinters and Sulfur, it had fought humans before, Grath realized as the bird wheeled towards him. The crossbow wasn't loaded yet, and the bird knew it?! Grath dropped the crossbow and drew his dagger in his left hand. In his right, he raised his wood paddle blade. The black walnut blade was less than 2 digits wide and roughly 3 long. Its leaf-like shape was designed as a club of sorts. Unlike the obsidian-edged blades of pirates and soldiers, the paddle sword was made to not accidentally damage your own ship in a fight. It was short enough for close combat. In other words, a terrible weapon to fight a vulture. A spear or long cutting blade would have sufficed better. The vulture did not dive like an eagle. It landed a few steps shy of Grath and ran like an angry hen, its wings beating furiously. It hissed and snapped at him, its long neck snake-like. Grath swung at its head with his sword and stabbed repeatedly at its wings with his dagger.

WUMMMMPHHH

A wing hit him in the left arm, sending him rolling into the Flounder's draglines. He tumbled about on the cloth floor. His arm hurt as if fire were biting in the shoulder socket. The vulture charged, wings beating head low. It grabbed his pant leg and ankle, ripping skin and fabric alike. Grath swung his sword with all his might. THOCCC!!!!! The blade struck the bird's beak. The blow was so strong Grath gashed his own leg with the blunt edge of the paddle sword. The vulture reeled back, hissing and squawking. The upper bill of its beak was shattered in two and hanging by a thread of flesh. Dark red blood, almost black, splattered across the balloon. The bird retreated to the sky, flying a shaky, bloody line up and away into the wind.