Shivery

[food source detected tree tree ]

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Her name was Shivery Timbers.

December 17, Year 18

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A lair that reflects its inhabitants. Inhabitants who reflect their lair. When one's house is in chaos, one's heart is in chaos, and vice versa- where does it end? But I digress.

The Ship (so called by the inimitable Humerus) is made of moving treeflesh, shattered houses, and the entangled magical activity of everyone living within it, which over the years has only grown stronger and more restless, until finally waking with a will of its own and beginning its journey to parts unknown. …Unless the branches merely ensnared a dragon in flight and assimilated its consciousness. No one is quite sure.

When it speaks, it speaks mostly nonsense. In its squeaky little voice. But it does seem to be trying to reach out to the crew. On occasion someone hears an, "estimated time of arrival 13:27," or, "course corrected 3 degrees south," though no one is ever sure what the course is or whether we've arrived. At times the Ship complains of parasites in its veins, or requests that nutrients be delivered to its vault (which is slowly absorbing the shelves, and occasionally Tongue. At least the digestive tendrils help keep them upright.) and whoever is around to hear it must oblige, even the most cantankerous, or face swift consequences. No one crew member is mightier than the Ship itself.

The Ship is ever hungry, like most things in the Wasteland seem to be. It consumes all it encounters, making a lot of sucking, crunching, and squeaking noises. The crew it seems to view as part of itself, affording them a uniquely advantaged lifestyle so long as they don't sit in one place long enough for it to start digesting them. Free from the need to hunt for themselves or defend against outside predators, they spend their time pursuing their own interests and squabbling with each other. Semi-isolated from the rest of Sornieth, they've developed their own peculiar subculture. But can this peace last? Rumors are circulating that some denizens of Plaguebringer's domain have come to view the growing mass as a threat.

So is the Ship a clan? Is it a lair? Is it a tree? And what sort of life does it lead, anyway? Is it a collection of castaways, washed up together like driftwood on a shore? Is it a renegade crew boldly sailing against the tide in search of a better life? Is it any place to raise a family? Perhaps no mere dragon can answer these questions. Perhaps it truly is, at heart, an ever-unpredictable organism in which nobody has a true purpose, everybody must get along with everybody else, and one cannot have certainty in any truth except one's own hopes.

And as for those who attempt to exert some measure of control over the Ship… they seem to be tolerated for now, but- and I realize I'm sounding like a broken record- no one is sure what their ultimate fate will be.

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Maybe it goes a little like this.