"I can see why the rumours persist if that's what the firsthand accounts are like. Mind if I press you for your other pair of stories? I'm fascinated by the Reach, it's full of new experiences. Like Chorister Honey."

"I didn't even get to the actual story! Though it's not much of one, really. We saw a Prince of Heaven, a living being of golden fire whose body was Correspondence, constantly shifting from sigil to sigil. It was beating the hell out of another locomotive with bolts of fire that turned in midair to follow it, we think it was spirifers cracking Blue Kingdom vaults in it because it had Devils inside when the Logoi tore it in two. And, sure, if I get a couple stories in turn."

"How about the time I was hunted by a fearsome beast in Traitor's Wood?" 

She goes on, elaborating the story a bit to eliminate her spell-bound flight, but mentioning the whispering garden, the sucking bog, and the thing that stalked her in the starlight.

Lenora gives little gasps and interested noises as appropriate. She's been to Summerset Camp, but never into the deep parts of the Wood.

The Pirates Incident happened when two marauder engines had the Bullhorn trapped in a long winding chasm with some side-passes but no actual exits. Both were waiting at the edge in ambush position. Lenora had the idea but her captain executed it beautifully - they disguised their engine as one of the pirates, shot at the other pirate a bit and signalled insults with the spotlight, then ran to the opposite side of the chasm and did the same thing, then hid in a side passage. Once the pirates were busy fighting each other, they just went the other way and were home free!

She laughs. "Oh, that's a good one. Clever, just and valorous. And a good idea from you. I take it you were... gunnery officer?" 

"Thanks! Yes, though it's not one of the customary officer positions and the raise was small, it's a nice title."

"I've never had a title to my name like that. Came out here to the Reach to explore, maybe make my fortune. I have some inheritance from my family, who were good enough of adventurers to make a living from it. This nice pistol -" She taps it. "- And enough sovereigns to travel the Reach and live in close-to-comfort while I'm here. I've had years of training in how to shoot and how to fight, growing up in my household, but I've never really been out on my own. I took an expedition to Traitor's Wood, got separated from the group... And that's how I come to be back here in New Winchester, a bit rattled to be frank. Now the question is, do I go back to London with my tail between my legs, or do I explore some more? This might be the honey talking, but I'd love to see Titania. Maybe get some singing lessons." 

"I'm not you, 'course, but it does sound like kind of a shame to head back after doing one major thing. I'm never going back to Albion, probably. Even if I wanted to..." Shrug. "The Reach is big and I haven't seen all of it. And there's always Eleutheria if I get too bored of here."

"Elutheria, huh. What's out there?"

"The rumors are a little mysterious but for one - the Eagle's Empyrean! Another - polity, I guess. Not as powerful as London, but wholly independent. They do all sorts of things with lightning, apparently. I want to know what they're like. And Pan, home to strange factions with pagan powers and goals and secrets. And more, like the Rubberies or Devils, all very mysterious and foreboding."

"I think I'd like to see that," she says. "Any of it and all of it. But I expect trips out are quite perilous, if even here in the Reach you have to contend with Canktankeri and Scrive-Spinsters. Not to mention pirates." 

She lowers her voice and leans in slightly. "There's a Transit Relay out there somewhere that goes to Eleutheria. The Establishment wants everyone to forget it exists and those who know it can make bank importing from there, so the exact path is not widely known."

Thorn's eyebrows shoot up. "... Thank you for trusting me with this. I think very much that I'd like to find that transport relay."

The only way to make contact with the Empyrean would be to find that relay and use it. I could try to bribe a captain, but they're not likely to risk their livelihoods on me. I... Oh, I very dearly hope that this is a very lucky world.

"Sadly I cannot help you directly with that. I don't have an engine or enough money to buy one and the bank is not gonna give anyone a loan to buy an engine - I don't really want to be a captain either, bossing people around is stressful, I'd rather find a good one and stick to them."

Wild hope rises in her chest - but no, she has to be cautious. She doesn't know this world.

"If only I had that kind of money. What's it cost for an engine nowadays anyway?" 

"So, the Britomart's, what, two hundred, and... Uh." Blush. "I am a bit tipsy and not so great at math in the first place, but about a thousand?"

She can afford that. 

By how much can she afford that? She doesn't know. But it has advantages, it could work - 

"That's surprisingly cheap for that much good iron. Maybe if I strike it rich getting into trouble on some backwater colony." 

"Well the hull would be the priciest part overall, yeah, but you can smell the steelworks from here, steel's cheap enough. And it'd be partially rebuilt from damaged ones. But it'd fly."

"Flying is rather necessary to get things off the ground, yes." 

She laughs and orders another beer for herself.

"Almost want to invite you out to target-shooting, see how good you really are. I'd offer singing lessons in exchange, but I'm crap at it and you don't want those from me."

"I'd be willing to show you in exchange for your third story. How about it?" 

"Sure, lemme just-" She sets down her drink and makes a strange gesture, maybe a warding gesture. "The Uninvited Guests are kind of horrible. Every engine does daily checks for them on the outside of the hull in sky-suits, and if you find any small black wriggling things - toss them into the void. They're flying eel things that are attracted to human warmth, sentiment, feelings of togetherness and hominess. And have acid spit. But they stay away from islands, and only go to locomotives in the sky. A few wouldn't be much harm actually, but they call to each other. If you have a few, they'll fill the entire engine in days, crushing anything inside."

She takes a large gulp of beer.

"Well, we had some. We spent six hours searching every nook and cranny and found dozens of the slimy little things. And then the next day, we had a hundred of them spill out of one of the supply cupboards, where they'd eaten all the flour. Cap had us abandon the engine entirely and camp out on the nearest rock. Let the Guests do their thing and get bored because nobody's on the locomotive making it homey and leave. Four days freezing our butts off and playing cards and worrying over starlight exposure, and then the Guests were gone and we could clean everything up and continue on our way."

"Quite the tale to tell. I'm glad your captain had the presence of mind to clear the engine before the Guest problem got too bad; I'd have hated to lose the chance to know you."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't die too. Meeting interesting people at pubs is a hobby as old as pubs!"

"I'm glad to uphold a noble tradition. Let's schedule the shooting for when tomorrow?"