The Cloud Castle of the Sky Queen can only be accessed by flying machine. Thankfully there is a Zeppelin Ferry and Butterfly Taxi station nearby run by the Wood Elves. To reach it is only a short walk, across the only bridge you have managed to find on the Great River, through a stretch of forest, and then finally you find yourself on the edge of a great clearing. Unlike airfields in the human world, there is no runway here. There are a two wooden towers for zeppelin mooring. These are four stories high and spangled with precarious rope ladders though you note with relief that there is also what appears to be a hand crank operated platform elevator in the middle of of each tower. The field is full of flowers, some average size, some the size of dinner plates, and a few as big as tables. In the middle of the field is a fairy circle of gigantic mushrooms and inside this a flock of butterflies, each with at least a two yard wingspan, being tended by pixie herders.
You start to approach these magnificent insects but a Wood Elf, tall and stately with pale skin, pointed ears, and green hair, approaches you. He is wearing a sea captain's plumed hat and a great red coat and knee high boots.
"I am afraid that most humans are too heavy to ride the Butterfly Taxi. If you are looking for passage to the Cloud Castle, I can book you in on the Zeppelin Ferry. It is a short ride, perhaps an hour, and the scenery is spectacular."
You thank the Elf for his assistance and follow him to the ticket counter, a wooden booth covered in ivy and climbing flowers, where a female Elf is lounging with her feet up on the edge of the window and reading what appears to be a Fairy fashion magazine called Elfe. On her head is what appears to be a hollowed out pineapple. She notices you glancing at her interesting head piece and she puts down her magazine.
"According to Elfe fruit themed hats are all the rage in fashionable circles," she intones in a rather nasally voice. "Everyone will be wearing them this year."
"I will take your word for it," you say. "I would like to book passage to the Cloud Castle, please." She nods, sets down her magazine and takes up a heavy, leather bound book and a quill pen.
"Let's see, human passage; we charge according to weight class . . . humans weigh, what, about five hundred pounds?"
The male Elf clears his throat.
"A little less than that, Primella," he corrects her. "Just use the Wood Elf fare rates. We can afford to give a guest in our lands a discount."
"Well, then, coach, which is standing room only on the decks, is a hope and a dream. Second class, indoor seating but no meal service, is two hopes and a wish, and first class in the luxury cabin with meal service and open bar is a hope, a dream, and a memory. Which would you prefer?"
You like to rough it. Go for coach.
You aren't fancy but it would be nice to sit down. Go second class.
You deserve some pampering after everything you have been through. First class it is!
You start to approach these magnificent insects but a Wood Elf, tall and stately with pale skin, pointed ears, and green hair, approaches you. He is wearing a sea captain's plumed hat and a great red coat and knee high boots.
"I am afraid that most humans are too heavy to ride the Butterfly Taxi. If you are looking for passage to the Cloud Castle, I can book you in on the Zeppelin Ferry. It is a short ride, perhaps an hour, and the scenery is spectacular."
You thank the Elf for his assistance and follow him to the ticket counter, a wooden booth covered in ivy and climbing flowers, where a female Elf is lounging with her feet up on the edge of the window and reading what appears to be a Fairy fashion magazine called Elfe. On her head is what appears to be a hollowed out pineapple. She notices you glancing at her interesting head piece and she puts down her magazine.
"According to Elfe fruit themed hats are all the rage in fashionable circles," she intones in a rather nasally voice. "Everyone will be wearing them this year."
"I will take your word for it," you say. "I would like to book passage to the Cloud Castle, please." She nods, sets down her magazine and takes up a heavy, leather bound book and a quill pen.
"Let's see, human passage; we charge according to weight class . . . humans weigh, what, about five hundred pounds?"
The male Elf clears his throat.
"A little less than that, Primella," he corrects her. "Just use the Wood Elf fare rates. We can afford to give a guest in our lands a discount."
"Well, then, coach, which is standing room only on the decks, is a hope and a dream. Second class, indoor seating but no meal service, is two hopes and a wish, and first class in the luxury cabin with meal service and open bar is a hope, a dream, and a memory. Which would you prefer?"
You like to rough it. Go for coach.
You aren't fancy but it would be nice to sit down. Go second class.
You deserve some pampering after everything you have been through. First class it is!
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