He regains consciousness with a start, eyes flying open, heart racing as he gasps in breath after breath. It takes a moment to orient and calm himself, taking in his surroundings piece by piece as he battles with a headache that has just started to sink it's claws into him. He can feel bile rising in the back of his throat and makes a heroic attempt to force it down. And fails. Throwing himself to the side of the bed he finds himself in he empties his stomach across the floor and onto the back of whoever was unlucky enough to be on the floor beside him. Ed groans, closing his eyes and massaging them through the lids as he tries to recall the events of the previous night. The whole thing is a blank. All he knows for sure is that he is not on his airship.
There is a shifting on the bed next to him, along with a gentle moan which threatened to bring a shriek to the brave captain's lips. Obviously his normally sharp reflexes had abandoned him, temporarily to be sure. He glances over at the lump hidden beneath the sheets and steels himself for what he might discover there. There had been incidents in the past, painfully similar, where inexplicably, the strangest of creatures had managed to worm their way into his quarters. Or lure him into theirs. Or into a nearby town square… Temple… Book Store…
Wincing against the growing pain in his head and holding his breath, he very carefully plucks the corner of the sheet up and begins the slow process of drawing it back without disturbing the figure beneath. Black hair with small horns poking through, dark skin, delicate features… He lifts the sheet just a little more to take a peek further down, to ensure there were no unpleasant surprises hiding under there. Not bad. Not bad at all. Now, though, he needed a drink. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he dislodges the bottles he had not noticed in a cascade which makes him flinch with every overly loud impact, each sending a spike of pain through his head. There was a chance, just a small chance, that he might have overdone it. A little. There is another gentle moan from behind him, but no telltale signs that he had awoken his companion. Perhaps it was best to keep it that way. Perhaps if she was of the occupation where payment might be required for services rendered, he could get out of this place before she regained the wits to seek it.
Ed's feet come down as he shifts his weight to get out of the bed, but are met with a mass of something warm, soft and slippery. He had forgotten about the body next to the bed, and the mess he had made. It takes a moment of eyes closed tight, muttering curses to himself under his breath, before he feels ready to stand up and clean himself off. A quick inspection of the figure on the floor reveals a human male, well sculpted and incredibly handsome. A gentle nudge with his toe to assure himself his second companion is still with them in the land of the living, and Ed is on his way across the room. Using all his skills and dexterity, he makes his way across the room as quietly as he is able. Considering the sheer mass of empty bottles, papers, plats, silverware and random items carpeting the floor, could he truly be blamed for making such a racket? Definitely not. Thankfully, however, the two of them seemed to be completely out of it. At least he hoped there were only two.
Finding a jug of lukewarm water and a bowl on a table, he manages a halfway respectable cleansing of himself before he turns towards readying himself for an escape. All he would need was his clothes and he would be ready to go. Speaking of which. He looks around the room, seeing it properly for the first time. A mediocre inn, by the docks if he was any judge of these things. Haven't frequented many a tavern and inn, he was somewhat of a connoisseur. A bed, a couple of tables and chairs. Not much else, aside from the trash littered everywhere, and not an article of his clothing to be found. He does find a dress, though it is a little on the small side, and a pair of pants of far too low a quality to be his own. For now, they would do.
"Now for boots…" He mumbles to himself. "Boots… Boots…" He pushes things aside and curses his luck. Not a pair of boots to be found! There is a nice coin purse on the table, not his but good enough, along with a rapier and dagger. Those were also not his. Or, to be technical, they were now. Strapping them on, he absently searches for a shirt or some kind of jacket, though at this point he is starting to accept that this is not going to happen. So when it does not happen, he accepts his fate and moves on. It was time to get back to his ship and get out of this city… Whichever city he was in. He hoped he was still in… Where had they been last? He was not in the right frame of mind right now. He would head downstairs, grab something to eat and drink and then head to the docking area for airships. Put this behind him. As he scans the room a final time, a note on the table catches his eye. He picks it up, scanning it.
"Congratulations Captain Ward" he reads, "On the purchase of the Pride of Carnelux. Docked in sip 47."
This was not good. Not good at all. Where had he got the silver for a second airship? He would need to deal with that when he got the chance. Priorities. Food, drink, Zephyr, answers. A reasonable list of priorities for a reasonable man. Reaching for the door handle, he hears the woman in the bed stirring again. She groans and Ed turns to face her. As their eyes meet, he can see her confusion at the sight of him, a complete lack of recognition in her eyes. Followed by an ear splitting scream. He winces at the agony this causes him, tears the door open and takes off. He had not had the best experiences in the past trying to explain similar situations, and considering the weapons and purse he had recently acquired, there was no reason to believe he would fare much better now. The captain does his best impression of a sprint down the hall, stumbling into walls and crashing against doors on his way towards a flight of stairs that seems to stretch down into the depths of hell. This was definitely not what he needed right now. Doors already began to open behind him, so Ed takes this as his cue to continue on his way.
The mighty hero conquers the stairs and finds himself in a modest tavern. A surly looking barkeep glances over at him, but the elderly dwarf doesn't bother saying anything. Ed shrugs and out the door he goes, into the busy street and blinding daylight. He crashes into someone, not seeing who or what they were, only feeling a booted foot come down on his own unprotected toes and an elbow catching his ribs. Choking in a breath, he continues on his way, into the foot traffic. It takes him some time, and a few more painful bruises before he gets his bearing again and his eyes begin to adjust to the light.
Rows of ships line the docks to his left, but he barely pays them any mind. His sights have always been set on the skies, and these just hold no appeal to him. Something tugs at his mind though, a thought he just cannot shake no matter how much he tries. He is still close to the tavern when he looks at the numbers upon the slips the ships and boats are attached to. Number fifty two. Fishing the note out of his pocket he looks it over again. Could it really be? He continues along, then backtracks to find the correct number.
"Forty seven…" he mutters as he comes across what had to be the saddest little boat he had ever laid eyes upon, and he wasn't even a proper judge of these things. Painted in peeling letters upon the side, in a script that was clearly legible no matter how much he wished he could be misreading it was the name, "Pride of Carnelux". Balls. Ed walks over to it, wondering what he was going to do with this thing when he got back to his real ship. Perhaps have Carter come down and burn the thing. Shaking his head, he climbs in anyway. Perhaps the previous owner had been kind enough to leave him a pair of boots, or sandals. Anything to put on feet that were becoming painful to walk on. Pinned to the side of the boat, he notices a note. He snatches it down, hoping for some kind of explanation. Instead, what he reads drains the blood from him completely. Numb, he loses track of time. This could not be. Ed falls down into the ship, mind fighting through dozens of emotions at once, oblivious to his surroundings.
That doesn't go in there.