Karrion's Spelljammer Academy Starboard

Roy turns his attention to Zaius, "Because we have 2 jammers already and those big toys the ships as are just begging to be tinkered with....."

Gloix makes his way to the training nexus with head swiveling about to take the the sights.  Such magic on display here, it's really quite amazing compared to what he had been exposed to on a regular basis before.  

Suddenly a loud fanfare blares out and a flash of light and smoke explodes in front of the orrery; the smoke quickly clears to reveal a pale human with blonde hair immaculately styled into a fashionable pompadour, eyes that shimmer like pools of quicksilver, and arms raised in a classic ta-da! pose.

"Welcome Spelljammers! Saerthe Abizjn, at your service," Saerthe bows elaborately. "You are the lucky few [or one] that has the magical talent, and will soon have the training, to propel a vessel through the astral sea. Please, have a seat." They gesture Rel and Gloix towards the helms with a wink.

Nothing happens as you sit in the helm. "Unfortunately before we activate the helms and let you attune to them, there is a short theory lesson," with a motion of their hand, they produce an image floating in the air: a spelljamming helm titled with the words Spelljamming 101: An Introduction. [We'll gloss over the fantasy PowerPoint; instead read the How Spelljamming Works section in Chapter 2 of Astral Adventuring, and the decription of the spelljamming helm.]

"And now, the practical section!" Saerthe announces, and the helm hums to life. Your awareness is plunged into the orrery, and you find yourself able to visualize the model ship as if you were standing on its deck. A pins-and-needles feeling suffuses your whole body, like feeling a limb that you didn't know you had is waking up after being slept on for too long. You hear Saerthe's voice say, "All you have to do is move your ship from the planet it is orbiting, to one of the other planets in the system." It takes a little time to feel your way around moving the ship; while the vessel maneuvers much like a sailing ship, it feels more like moving an arm or leg.

Relonius gasps and then laughs aloud as the helm switches on.  He experimentally tries moving the ship with his mind, like an infant reaching for a toy, and it wobbles in its orbit.  Humming a melody you recognize as The Lady of Heartwood Dell,  he gains confidence and tries to break the ship free of its circular path, moving it away from the influence of its companion orb, and steadily spiralling outward, past the inner planets, out to one of the distant objects in the far reaches of the system.  Furrowing his brow, he attempts to move the tiny vessel into a stable revolution around the unusual body.

Gloix is a little tentative to take his position at one of the helms, but he does settle in and when the bit of theory pops up he pays rapt attention to it.  

As the practical lesson begins his mandibles move and twitch while the unfamiliar sensations wash through him and he takes a moment to become accustomed to them.  Slow to start, he works to pull his ship up and aware with somewhat jerky motions that work to become smoother.  Smoother, but over exaggerated as he works to perform that task assigned.

Zaius claps his hands and hoots with glee as the model ships rise and begin to fly, in jerky movements at first but becoming more stable as his classmates became more comfortable with their skills.  “Look at that! They got ‘em up and flying!” he nudges Roy with his elbow. “It doesn’t look that hard, does it?”

As you both get used to flying the ships, Saerthe bends down and speaks into each of your ears in turn. To Relonius she asks, "Tell me a tale of your past. What should I know of you?", and to Gloix, "Tell me where you wish to be one year hence. What shall the cosmos make of you?"

Rel laughs nervously, and replies, "Me? Oh, there's nothing special about me... just a satyr with his hooves on the ground and his head amongst the stars.  I did once win second place in the songwriting contest at the Phandalin county fair.  And I probably still hold the record for getting booed off the stage the fastest at Falstaff's comedy club in Waterdeep.  I've never held a job for more than three days, but if you close your eyes, I can take you to another world with my flute faster than you could get there on a starship, and my lute will melt maidens' hearts and bring tears to your eyes."

Gloix is so focused on helming the vessel that he nearly jumps out of the Helm in surprise when Saerthe speaks to him.  The ship jerks to one side before straightening out and Gloix is silent a moment in thoughtful consideration.  Eventually, his voice sounds in the instructors head, "I would travel the cosmos and learn to use and harness the magic of its travelers.  people, and environments.  I am a student just beginning my education in many ways.. a year is not long in the grand scheme of the cosmos but can be life changing for me and my Art."

The weight of the planet behind you has been gradually dwindling to a pinprick, and as you answer Saerthe's question, something falls into place in your mind. The phantom limb of your ship feels like it is stretched out then snapped forward, like a bowstring, and suddenly you're hurtling through the modelled realmspace, no longer simply flying but truly spelljamming. In what feels like a matter of moments you feel the ship drop back again to flying speed, the weight of your destination planet right ahead of you, and you easily maneuver into orbit. Pulling your consciousness back into yourself, you detach from the helm and open your eyes to find Saerthe quietly applauding. "Excellent work, cadet," they beam at you.

"Th... Thank you," stammers Rel.  "That was... different.  Fun!"

All of your tasks complete, you head back to the Simulation Deck to report to Boatswain Tarto. You find the boatswain sitting in one of the modified helms, going over some paperwork; as you enter she looks up at you and simply orders, "Report."

[One character of the players’ choosing must deliver a spoken report of their orientation]

I'll dae it

Gloix thanks the instructor and follows the others to report, nodding to whoever steps forward to take the lead.

Xavier was in the back as they entered the room, and patiently waited for someone to give a report. No one did. With a sigh he stepped forward, and began to speak.

"Boatswain we first were assigned our bunks, which went smoothly (He puts his hands behind his back, less so to be proper, mainly just to hide the traces of dried blood on his knuckles he hasn't quite been able to get off his hands yet). Next, we went over to the obstacle course, and to each took a crack at it, with varying degrees of success. After this, we made our way to the ship inspection, where we learned about spelljamming vessels. Finally, we went to the Nexus, where the magical people learned about spelljamming. I am probably not the best person to talk about how that went. We then reported back to you. I hope you find this report sufficient." He then takes a step back into the group, and unclasps his hands.

As Xavier reports, Rel will surreptitiously side-step until he is behind him, and then proceed to make loud flatulence noises at every seventh word or so of the elf's report.  If anyone looks at him, he will feign innocence and point at Xavier.

Deception 23

Zaius shoots Rel a look and  hoots and covers his mouth, giggling into his hands. “A real stinker of a report, Xavier” he can’t contain himself any longer and lets out a loud, bellowing laugh.

Tarto wrinkles her nose but manages to keep a straight face, except for shooting a glare at Zaius for his response. "Very good, cadet. Your orientation is officially complete. However," she continues, "I do have one last task for you. Call it a favour to an old sailor who's stuck here waiting for more of you lot to report in." Her tone suggests that this is the mandatory kind of favour. "A shipment of supplies was just delivered by a spelljamming trader, and it includes a create addressed personally to the academy head, Mirt the Merciless. Collect the crate from the Sky Dock and deliver it to Mirt's private room in the Bridge Quarters. Do not damage or tamper with the crate in any way, and obey any orders he gives you."

The boatswain hands you each a gold security helmet to allow you onto the Bridge level and makes a shooing gesture. "Once you've made the delivery, you're dismissed for lunch (though I might also suggest a quick visit to sick bay, mister Imwe). Oh, and make sure you keep the noise down," she adds with a slight chuckle, "the Old Wolf was apparently up late entertaining some visitors, and so will likely be... a little worse for wear."

Rel snaps what he believes to be a smart salute.  "Aye Aye, Bos'n."  He settles the gold helmet jauntily atop his head, and says, "Let's go, mates.  It will be good to get some... fresh air!"

He claps Xavier on the shoulder in a friendly way as he walks by, grinning.

Zaius follows Rel, still snickering behind his hand, as they make their way back to the Sky Dock. “Hey, I wonder if it will be the same ship we saw arrive during our orientation?”