Brigid MacCleu – Aeronaut Aurene Supreme

On the plateau of Crossebarra, airship captain and renegade aurene zethyr pirate Brigid Maccleu’s aeriskiff alighted delicately on the ground. It rolled quietly to a stop on the grassy plain, some forty feet from the circled caravan of a troupe of nomadic gawn-breeders. Rhoen gawn were a prized commodity among the aurenes before the fall, but now the Ruho had lost that precious consumer base. Brigid locked the skiff’s steering wheel into place and lowered the brake. She lifted her goggles onto her head and got a good look at the caravan. Ten wagons, a medium-size herd of healthy gawn and four hippogriffs to guard them. Not a soul would dream that these same Ruho helped along a pirate’s supply chain. She lifted her gloved hand as she approached to show her intention of peace. The clan’s chief approached her with his own hand raised as well. He clasped hers when she stopped in front of him.

The Clock Tower – Aerra

              High on the fifteenth level of the tower, Aerra sat in her small patch of dirt and grass and weeds and sang a soft song to the earth spirits. She was far from them, but still she could feel them stirring beneath the dark crust. Aerra had done well selling her flowers and herbs during the early morning. Flavor was something else that was highly unusual in the clock tower, besides her pretty flowers. She couldn’t explain to the other tower people how she made her garden grow, which predictably frustrated them until they left. Few who left didn’t come back, for Aerra’s flowers were not only beautiful but helpful as well. Some of the greenery was sold specifically as herbs, but every pretty bloom had another purpose. The tower people couldn’t be expected to know flowers so intimately, since they had forgotten so much about greenery.