Typed by Reginald “Reggie” Tipton.
The Following are the notes collected from a retired “Sailor”.
A local of Porte De Lairion, and quite insistent on the use of her moniker “Ms. All-Sunday”, on account of her alleged excess of Luck.
When I arrived at the Shanty town, she had arranged for me to meet her at a local pub, at Eleven in the morning.
Although I would call it more of a hole-in-the-wall. Differing perspectives as-it-were.
With the beginning of the interview, I inquired of her excessively writing to the Arcvelt Gazette, but was only met with the same answer as the letters, “I have the biggest story you’ve ever heard!” At least I can understand her a little better compared to her penmanship.
She begins with, “Young man, you may be some big-shot from the city, but out here you don’t know jack! I seen some things that you wouldn’t believe while out of the drafts!” She paused to take another massive swig of her drink before continuing.
“There’s all kinds of nasty beasties beneath the mists bucko’, but the worst of it t’ain’t no Profaned freaks from beneath the mists. The Mother Tree and it’s people have been contending with those blighted things for ages-, I’m talking about something bigger!” The lady stated before wafting her empty mug at me.
After I paid for another round of her drinks, she finally spoke again. From here I made sure to keep track of the receipts.
“Now laddy, where was I? Ah right-, the biggest scoop in the world!” She stated eagerly before taking yet another sip of her beverage.
(Let it be taken to note that I had been seated in this establishment for well over an hour while this woman ate and drank herself silly.)
“This tale is older than you realize boy, and I’ve sailed with plenty of old Yui in my day. Each one had the same wives tale, and not once did any of them have any bit of difference, well, except for how each of them spoke… Y’see, it went something like this.” The woman has a gift for storytelling as deep as her appetite, it seemed.
“Long ago when the oldest Yui were but naught but babs, they told tales of birds that would nest at the very top of the Mother Trees boughs. Higher than any Sirin would dare go, they said. Now, supposedly if you ask any Sirin of these things, they will flatly deny their existence. The secret is asking the Yui, you see. They have they roots, and the Sirin keep to their tree, and so it was for millenia.” She paused to clear her throat after lighting a pipe, filled with a substance I am unsure of.
“These Birds had grown from being Wayyyyy up in that tree. Big wings to keep themselves up there, and supposedly a very stretchy hide. Why? Well I couldn’t tell ya. Now as for one Mister Barnes, back when I was a cabin-boy pretending to be a boy so I would be taken aboard, well that Yui was oddly daring for one of his kind, and rather gifted in Poetry. Y’see, one night he got incredibly drunk, more than any on the ship had ever seen, and then he gets this crazy look in his eye-. The kind o’ look that a man gets after he’s seen one-too-many a storm, the type o’ storm that takes crewmates an’ loved ones. Mister Barnes starts talking about these things that his crew took to callin’ a Sky Terror. Now everyone that night was laughing their guts out, but I listened as he finished his story. You could hear it in his speech, he was right, or at least he believed it in his old bones that such creature was real, a beast so vast that it hunts the Sky Whales for feed, and that they come from Above the Clouds.”
I could see a twitch in my interviewees eyes, something akin to what she spoke of, as if she too did not believe it to be madness.
I would press for more information.
She continued with, “Nah, see, yer givin’ me that look too. The one that most young sailors who dun’ come back give me when they hear my stories.” Then carrying on with sarcastic jabs, “Thay can’t be THAT Big. No way there’s something so huge!” The Freans cat ears twitched before she sat back down with a huff.
“They are that big, and they are that terrifying. You see what the Yui like to warn people of in their story is that these creatures have a cycle of life. According to some other Yui I met throughout, when I inquired of Mister Barnes’ tale, first I’d be shooed away before my tenacity forced me way into getting their attention, then I got more. Y’see, I thought I could be the one to prove their existence, but nobody ever seems to see them.”
It was at this point where I could hear the earnestness in her voice, and I would continue her tab to keep collecting information, typing as she spoke.
“Now these things have habits. Could be compared to a Stork or Heron when ya look at it, but has a beak like a Pelican! The bottom half, stretchy like it’s underbelly, and they inflate like balloons, their eggs apparently able to nest on clouds, or so the hear-say says. They only dip below the clouds every few centuries or so, and when they do, they’ll eat anything they can find in the sky. When they can’t find sky whales, they’ll find other means to feed. Ever hear of Porte Westbrook? Course you hadn’t, it’s a two-hundred year old legend that surrounds a canyon near here. Well the canyon used to be a town, and it got swallowed whole. Sometimes late in the evenin’ when the light shines right in your eyes and you look out at the setting or rising sun, you can see one off on the horizon, dipping below the clouds to feed, or meet its end.” The old woman finished her drink before taking a large puff of her pipe, seemingly finishing it.
“Some places use their bones that they dig up to add on to buildings, and some sailors who get to the corpse quick enough IF they hit the ground, pick-em apart. Seems the stretchy skins make great sails, but what do I know, I’m just some old cat, but this kitty has a few tricks left-. I did get a free meal and drinks for a day, and got to ogle a strapping young lad. Speaking of--, what are you doing later?”
I respectfully declined her invitation as she blew a puff of smoke in my face."
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