Lift Engines: Stable
Drive Engines: Stable
Misc. Engines: Stable
Hull Integrity: Stable
Makou Power: Stable
Makou Cannons: Stable
Throm lifted his head from the report and looked to the engineer who had been hired for the trip back to Westbridge. Shifting uncomfortably, the engineer stammered.
"The other engineers have reported good sized tremors on the third and fourth decks, as well as a slight listing of the port side deck."
Nodding, Throm looked at the report once again, not looking up as he spoke.
"Will there be a need to turn back to Torregiano?"
"No sir, she'll fly to Westbridge sure as the sky, but you may be wantin' to tune those engines once we reach port."
Nodding, Throm handed the man back his report, dismissing him. He turned back to the additional papers which scattered his makeshift desk. Taking a moment to cast a longing glance towards the pile of broken wood in the corner which was his previous desk he shook his head and continued on to the matters at hand.
The Armor of Escalore had worked it's sorcery upon Nathaniel much better than Throm would have imagined. Though he had been loathe to use dark magic for the purposes of good, he had found no other way to recover the broken younger Stormweather. Throm had requested Nathaniel's presence on the trip back to Westbridge in order to monitor the Armor's effect on Nathaniel, however the young man had insisted upon remaining behind to speed his recovery.
The door to his office burst open suddenly, breaking his train of thought. Mavin nearly ran inside, breathing heavily.
"Throm! We have visitors!"
"More pirates no doubt?"
Mavin shook his head, still catching his breath.
"No, not like that. They just...appeared on the Command Deck. Avalon is standing watch over them now, and I've sent one of the engineers to rig an engine room as a holding cell."
Throm began to lean back, and then remembered his office chair for the time being was a wooden crate. Sitting up straight he shuffled the papers on his desk.
"Nonsense Mavin, where are your manners? Until proven otherwise, they are our guests aboard the Bastion and will be treated as such until we arrive at Port Westbridge. Offer them drinks and inform them that I will meet them in the Common Room shortly."
Finally finding his wind, Throm's younger brother leaned close across the desk. When he spoke it was barely above a whisper.
"They asked to speak with Elder uth Bannon..."
Throm ceased shuffling his papers and sharply looked up at his sibling, surprise flashing across his face briefly before he recomposed himself. His guests were no longer a mystery to him. What he did not know, is why they were here...why now?
Slowly, he stood. Reaching down with one motion, he picked up his cloak and tossed it about his shoulders.
"Very well, clear the Command Deck and wait for me in my quarters. I shall not be long."
Mavin began to utter a protest then stopped, nodded, and left.
Sighing, Throm glanced at his sword, which rested below the sorry excuse for a desk he was currently using. Shaking his head, he left it be and strode from his office.