Dycidas Fortinbras pulled his fur coat closer around him. The air at this altitude was freezing, he was glad he no longer had to stand guard at the long watches of the night. Being the captain had it's privileges. He entered his private cabin and sighed in content as the warmth drove away the chill that seemed to have gotten to his very bones. Neftis, his Creanan chamber slave came and took his coat, her exotic olive skin and gracefull movements ever a pleasure to the eyes. Her make up, mainly a blue colored one unique to Creana, enhanced her beauty. She wore little, and what she wore were designed to enhance her attractive attributes, not to cover anything up. Jasaira, his other chamber slave were clad in even less, just a couple of see-through veils. Jasaira was also an olive skinned beauty, though slightly fairer in skin than Neftis, she had long dark hair and beautiful brown eyes. She was from Marac and very skilled at the Dance of the ten veils, the dance that was rumored to leave no hotblooded male unaffected. It was the Maracans that had came up with the tradition of jaraleh, the pleasure slave. When mighty Thera had conquered the province, the concept of jaraleh had spread through the Empire like wildfire. Who said the Therans were to arrogant to learn from others?<br/>The room was warm and comfortable, despite the cold outside. Dycidas sighed in content as Jasaira brought him a cup of Windling Sky Nectar. Dycidas owned a fire elemental in a bottle. It was a small and weak thing, capable of little else than warming a room to comfortable temperatures, but that it did very well. The nectar, the elemental, his expensive furniture, his slaves...they had all cost a furtune, but you had to keep up appearances. That's why he were where he were this cold evening. The Fortinbras family was of the Theran Great House of Medari, the economic powerhouse of the Empire. They had little say in military matters though, the military was in the iron grip of House Zanjan, which had meant that Dycidas had been forced to spend huge amounts of silver to get where he were today, the captain of a Theran<em>vedette</em>. He was expecting a return on his investment, but it hadn't come so far and now Dycidas's personal fortune was severely depleted. It was this cursed province of Barsaive! After the failed siege of Throal the Therans had pulled back to the Vivaine province and their naval headquarters at Sky Point. Now days they did little but patrol the southern reaches of Barsaive, occasionally raiding isolated villages, mainly for slaves. There were very little chances for a shrewd captain to make a fortune in a place like this...<br/>His thoughts were interupted by a young airman who delivered a message from his First Officer. The<em>Vision of Supremacy</em>were now securely hidden away in a thick cloud. Navigating inside clouds were tricky at best, treacherous at worst. It seemed like the elements of air were at it's most foul humor inside clouds. Only an Airsailor Adept could learn to navigate the aircurrents safely. Dycidas was happy he had been able to recruit D'ashelm for the<em>Supremacy</em>. Adepts never came cheap, that had cost him another fortune.<br/>Dycidas poured over his maps. As far as he knew, no Theran vessel had been this far north since the end of the war, he was days from where he was supposed to be. The success of this operation relied on his superiors never finding out what he had been up to. Throal lay way off in the south east, they had been able to navigate past the dwarven kingdom's airpatrols without being spotted. One on one none of the Throal wooden vessel was a match for the<em>Supremacy</em>, carved out of stone as it was, but if they swarmed him...<br/>Another knock, another interuption. "Captain?" the young airman said, peeking inside. "That message you were waiting for?" Dycidas cut him off.<br/>"Alright, I'll be there." Grunting, he pulled on his coat again. He had just managed to drive the chill from his bones.<br/>When he arrived at the bridge, he nodded at D'ashelm. The albino T'Skrang was standing at the wheel, keeping the ship steady. It was strange, a T'Skrang airsailor, everyone knew the lizards were mortally terrified of heights. Everyone agreed that D'ashelm must be a little insane to choose this as his profession, but Dycidas was glad to have him.<br/>He walked over to the large scrying crystal in the middle of the room. One glance cleared the room, the only one who remained were D'ashelm who had to steer. This was for the captain's ears only.<br/>"Speak."<br/>"Everything is proceeding as planned," the familiar voice replied. "You will have your prize by tomorrow night." Fortinbras nodded. Good news.<br/>"Defenses?" he asked.<br/>"Town militia and a wooden palisade," came the reply. "But the thing with palisades...they are of very little use if the enemy are already inside them as well." He gave a short, cruel laugh that made Dycidas frown.<br/>"Stick to the plan. I want a smooth operation. Nothing else matters but my prize. Bring me the girl or it will cost you."<br/>"Don't worry, captain" the voice replied, sounding a lot to casual for Dycidas' taste. "Tomorrow night you will have her at your feet. I have it in my hand..."