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...Bindusara sleeps at a local inn. Toss and turning, he is never as comfortable in these places as he is in the air. The warm hum of the engine as he drifts off; The sound of Bob bumping into (and occasionally breaking) things as the airship hovers in the sky. That is the place he calls home these days. Dry thunder shatters the silent evening and in a distant memory he hears someone scream his name, crying out to him. In his dreams he reaches out but quickly everything goes black and he wakes up panting.

A cold sweat covers the elfs body and he makes his way to the window trying to assess how the weather will be for the next few hours. Slipping on his dusty brown pants and boots, he stuffs his shirt and jacket into a large bag along with his goggles, gun and parts for the Avariel. He straps his rapier to his belt quickly and tosses the bag over his shoulder. To the average person one would not think he could carry something so large and obviously bulky and as the first bit of lighting crashes down, flooding the room with light, it  illuminates the scars that cover his body from the neck down.

He makes his way downstairs, the innkeeper and his daughter finishing the last of the cleaning for the night. The innkeepers daughter blushes and averts her eyes at first, seeing him come down in such a state. The innkeeper pays no mind to this and inquires if everything is alright. Bindusara nods and says that he will be making his way back out to his ship and thanks them for their hospitality after paying them generously for such a short use of their room. The innkeeper stops him once more on the way out and pleads with him to stay as there is a storm headed their direction. Bindusara says that he already knows this and heads out, beginning the hike to his ship, his home.

When he makes it there, Bob is waiting and greets him happily. He simply pats him on his head and sets down the parts for Bob to rummage through while he sleeps. After a quick shower, a drink, and a cigarette he lays down to the sound of Bob merrily working on routine maintenance and the rain pounding down on the roof of the only place he is truly comfortable.


Elf, Steampunk, Airship
The Airship Avariel
The real me

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