text: The captain of the airship waits patiently at her desk, awaiting your next question.
  > You ask her about what happened to you
  “Several hours ago, you fell out of the sky,” she says. “You weren’t the only one, either. There were entire islands collapsing to the left and right, and I had to get the ship out of the way to avoid being crushed by the next giant land mass. Mother Ghared…”
  
  Mother Ghared steps forward at this point. “I was on duty at the front deck when you emerged,” she says calmly. “Unlike the others who fell, you had a slim chance of survival. I chose to use my abilities to slow your fall and take you on board. The captain did not approve of my decision, but I was able to persuade her to let you live until we reached the next island.”
  
  The captain shakes her head in disgust. “Fat lot of good that will do us, Mother Ghared. If we’re unlucky enough to run into a Gahl’vuhr Sehn patrol when we reach Majeruk, they’ll want to know why we have an Unworthy on board.” She glares at you. “I’ll just tell them that you were a stowaway and that Mother Ghared refused to let me throw you over the side. Doesn’t matter if the world’s splitting down the middle or if islands are falling out of the damn sky – as far as the Gahl’vuhr Sehn is concerned, rules are rules. They must be followed. I’m so glad that the highest-ranking representative on board has decided to break them on my behalf.”
  
  “You may defer any responsibility to me, captain,” Mother Ghared says. “They will understand. Even the life of an Unworthy can give rise to many new members of the Gahl’vuhr Sehn. The future is always uncertain.”
  
  “That’s easy for you to say, Mother Ghared, but I like my future to stay as stable as possible.” The captain turns her attention back to you. “What else was there? Oh, yes. We brought you inside and had no choice but to put you in the cabin in which one of our prisoners was housed. Not the safest choice, but we are already stretched to full capacity here.”
  
  You recall the mutant you saw in your room. “Prisoner?” you repeat.
  
  “Cargo is not the only thing we transport on this airship,” she states. “Occasionally we are given the task of transporting valuable and dangerous criminals to far-off locations – some islands are used for prisoners alone. “Prison islands”, we call them. Leave them there to rot away, stranded, where they can’t hurt anyone. Better than any of those primitive human jails, in my opinion.” She sits back in her chair. “I’m sure the prisoner didn’t bother you at all. It would be a pretty big problem if that one managed to escape. A single mutant has the means to contact many others of its kind, and those creatures carry grudges against their captors for years. Downright murderous, they are. That's why it's essential that we keep every single one of them locked up.”