Rion awoke with a start as his waterskiff slugged it's wooden bow against the wrought iron lattice work of an extremely tall and menacing public mooring tower. There were several air ships and a frigate tied off to her tall spires and more than a few "nests" made of scrounged materials and put in place by those who'd been disillusioned by constant travel over the Gemini Lands. It was that very disillusionment that kept Rion on the sea, and out of the air.
Most mooring towers of the Gemini Lands, by their very existence, birthed a small village or market at their base. Some even paved the way for larger city states like the illustrious Ironforge, as well as its Gemini sister city of Marx, a flat land that simply sunk off into Neptune at its end.
Sitting up, Rion threw a tunic sleeved arm over his face to block out the mid day sun, although it was hardly necessary as there were so many blimps, airships, and zeppelins shadowing the sky as they moored on the towers he was nearly unaffected by the hot sun.
Tieing his skiff off, Rion climbed into the lattice work and began his journey up the center of the tower. There was evidence of several "Tower Nests" and "Treasure Troves" of the past that littered the hollow center of the tower. Rion nearly tripped over a thick slimy knotted rope. It would seem that nearly all of the trash inside the tower was tied down for fear of winds or seas. Rion paid none of it any mind at all as he climbed higher. It didn't take long, as the tide was midday high and half of of all the coastal mooring towers were nearly covered by the waters of the Gemini Lands by this time of day Rion could start half way up, something he had counted on.
Reaching the higher, thinned out spires, Rion could hear exactly what he'd come to expect. A crowd wide heckle as airship captains, deck mates, and privateers alike all leaned over their port and starboard boards to try and touch, get a glimpse of, or communicate with Apollo the "Postal Air Frigate" for this region and its uniformed deck hands. Everyone wanted any correspondence coming to them. By chance of not receiving any, the rest wanted to hear tales of the Gemini Lands and a good yearn of an adventure or two. The ships swayed in the light breeze, bumping and sloshing against one another, the giant frigate at the center of the mooring tower fields, and the black iron spires of the tower it self.
Rion was not interested in mail, he lived across the Gemini waters, on Castor and no one there cared that he'd gone nor if he was ever coming back. Well, maybe the owner of the skiff he had floated in on cared a bit, but the skiff itself was little more than roped together ancient planks so Rion wouldn't bet gold coin on that fact either. At least, none of the coins he'd hoped to be stealing today.
Locating a suitable ship, a rigid dirigible covered in new taught white canvas that only hinted at the riches that must be stashed inside, Rion stepped out from the lattice work of the public mooring tower and shimmied up the dirigible's bow line. New and fresh, this line had yet to be blasted by heavy winds or dipped in Neptune's cold blue salty depths. Therefore it was rather smooth and offered none of the harsh prickles or slivers that Rion had expected. He felt that he'd hardly needed the black gloves he wore.
He noted that the knots in the rope were square and solid, the mark of a good sailor and someone who had been properly educated in such tings at a far away school by teachers and professors now to old for the skyways. Also, just the kind of person who would be receiving mail from the post air frigate Apollo, and not watching their dirigible's cabin on the other end of the ship's deck for possible intruders.
Pulling his dagger, Rion shimmied the latch and stepped inside the lavish quarters....
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