<div class="floatleft">(http://www.digital-innocence.com/GalleryImages/Airship_Matte_Small.jpg)</div><strong>Herring</strong>(http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=88805.msg4327273#msg4327273)... smiled, peacefully reclined in the pilot's seat of The Brass Pigeon. Behind her was the egg-shaped inside of the cargo hold, containing so many wonderful goodies. Candies from Europe, fur from Russia, silks from Japan... even cleverly preserved carnation flowers waiting to drink in any dye and as a result become any color. But she kept her doctoring goods in the cockpit with her in a large physician's bag, preferring to have it on hand at all times just out of habit. The merchant, a partially retired doctor, wasn't going to forget soon any of the skills that brought her to this moment of reliable wealth in her life.<br/><br/>She had a look at the charts on the desk above her helm and then a look at her compass, a double check so she knew her course and had faith in it. Herring wasn't an experienced pilot, but she had this ship designed to make piloting quite easy. As she made a small adjustment with one of her brass control sticks, one of The Fat Pigeon's steering thrusters tilted very briefly and pulled the ship back on course. A little turbulence made the new merchant ship creak briefly, and then Herring saw something in the distance, perhaps a dozen miles off. She pulled a spyglass from beside the cockpit seat and had a look at it. Rising above the horizon was The Pleasure Dome in all its glory. The small merchant vessel soon was above the landing pad, angling its steering thrusters downward to keep the heavy little bird in the air.<br/><br/>A little fuel to the main thrusters had it shifting idly forward, taxiing elegantly across the pad until it slowly lurched onto its landing gear. The roof of the little merchant ship cleared the ceiling of the garage with perhaps under over a yard to spare, and the young pilot soon found the ideal place to park her home of a few months, containing all of her wares and supplies. This ship was like an oversized safe for personal belongings. Entry into the cargo hold took a few keys and a combination just from the cockpit, which Herring resealed from the inside. The young woman's hair was still wet from a shipboard bath, and she had been flying about naked out of comfort. She clothed herself quickly on the way to the exit, for each clothing article was deliberately hung in a pattern on the way to the hatch. It was very much like her to even check her large revolver and reholster it on the way out. She had made the mistake of going into a seeming legitimate place unarmed once, only to find it overtaken by raiders. Naturally, she wasn't in the mood for a repeat.<br/><br/>Herring's memories went back to sending a telegraph when she was a few days' flight away, reserving a room and wiring money for it. So she took her time, looking as if she felt quite welcome in the place. One would not have even guessed she was completely lost. Her devil-may-care expression and scoundrel-like stride was a portrait of confidence while she effortlessly hefted her heavy black bag in one hand, walking into what she hoped was the beginning of a better life, filled with less death and seclusion. She soon found the desk and lowered the heavy bag to the floor. She saw what looked to be a button and gave it an instinctive press, to be rewarded with the sound of a buzzer. This was time Helyanwe took to double check the grooming of her painted nails. She wasn't one to be in a hurry.<br/><br/><strong>...standing at the Front Desk, waiting to check in to her reservation</strong>