Morg’s hands tightened on the rail as the rattling of the
ship reached an alarming level, sending something unsecured overboard. He
watched it fall through the air and towards the underside of the continent far
below.
“I hate doing this,” he growled to himself.
Behind him, the diminutive crew scuttled ceaselessly through
the rigging, constantly adjusting the sails. He knew there was a contingent
below deck as well, keeping the engine running and making sure they didn’t
plunge out of the air.
The ship, an itinerant, seemed continuously on the verge
of collapse and dumbing the crew into the void.
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