Turning it Off and On Again Doesn’t Work IRL – Part 3

A low rumble shook the airship. The rotors quieted down, and a strange stillness invaded the cabin, which I had so far only known bathed in the cacophony of the engines.

“Welcome to Adaville,” Fianna said. Her words were flat—business-like, even. I took it to mean she was trying to hide the conflicting emotions of what happened in the air.

From the cockpit, we had been able to slowly see the city come into view, and the more it did, I couldn’t help but be impressed. The entire settlement was surrounded by tall stone walls. However, it seemed that a fair amount of area around the city had been cleared, and was on its way to recovery.

But what was more impressive about it was the sheer amount of industry in the city. Yes, industry in a medieval world. Who would have thunk. It seemed like every single corner was filled with a factory of some kind. Tall chimneys pierced above the walls; even as the sun set, they were still releasing noxious fumes that had permeated the entire airship with that pungent smell. The river that run through the center of the city didn’t have a single meter that wasn’t occupied by a waterwheel, powering many of the factories, and its color was way less than “clear”. On the various airship docks doting the city, piles and piles of processed wood, paper, and other goods waited to be transported out.

Clearly, a crude, mini industrial revolution had since taken place in this previously medieval world. When I had asked Fianna what exactly all these factories were for, she responded with some pride.

“Forestry. Many of the forests back in the human realms have been depleted or cut down to make way for plantations. Thankfully, trees from the Wastelands be used for wood or paper production. Adaville grew as demand increased, and so the governor is putting in an effort to reconquer the land and even plant new forests.”

Apparently, this forest area was rich enough that it was worth the huge amount of resources needed to keep the city from being overrun by the White Death.

“By the way,” I asked Fianna after we landed, “why is it called ‘Adaville’?”

“The Hero who founded the city gave it her name. She was called ‘AdaMeteor’.”

“Huh… r-right.”

Yeah, I remember now. The beta players had some… original nicknames.

“Now, let’s stop dilly-dallying and get out there.”

The crew made its way down the ramp first, while Chloe and I followed in the rear. Keil especially was looking over us like a hawk. This flat dock had a bunch of other airships, similar in design to the Airdrake, all neatly stationed in a row, side by side. The scale of the entire thing was frankly quite impressive.

At least the smell down here isn’t so bad.

During the descent, we crossed right through those clouds produced by the industries—and it stank. Apparently it came from something called black liquor, though I wasn’t too sure what that was.

“If it isn’t the crew of the Airdrake! Good evening to you,” a guy from the dock said with a grin so wide it bordered on the uncanny.

“What’s the mooring fare today, Brawleo?” The boss asked curtly.

“Buh, no need to be so strict, Fianna. How about you—”

“The. Mooring. Fare.”

Damn. If looks could kill, he would already be dead.

“S-Six Bronze,” the man called Brawleo said.

“Here,” Fianna said, as she shoved a bunch of coins in his hands.

“T-Thanks for your patronage…huh?” Finally, it seemed, he realized that the crew of the Airdrake were the not only people who came out. “One, two, three, four, five?! When did you add more people to your crew?!”

“I didn’t. We picked these adventures up in Luribel.”

“Luribel?! That’s been in ruins for… deg—deca—many years!” Did he really just not remember on how to say “decades”?! “What were they doing there?”

“Apparently the party abandoned this priestess during a mission, and the guy—” She suddenly stopped, gave me a look, and shrugged her shoulders. “He came from another party who was killed.”

“That sounds awfully suspicious.”

“I’m not in the business of asking many questions,” Fianna retorted.

“But… they are clean, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are,” Fianna said, raising her voice significantly. “You really think I’d bring them here otherwise?”

The man visibly flinched, even taking a step back.

“Argh! Right, right, of course. But still, you’re going to have them go through the immigration office.”

“Indeed, that would normally be the procedure. However, since the situation is so unique, I’m going to have a word with the Governor.”

“Ah, Lady Marielle. The most beautiful, shining beacon of Ada—”

“Shut it.” Fianna then turned to us. “Come with me, and don’t stray far. Keil, start unloading the cargo. Tanney, you—” she began saying, but then stopped. The fox girl wastrying her best to shrink into herself. “You can take it easy.”

“Okay, Fian— I mean, Boss!”

“And you, Brawleo, send a message to the Governor announcing my presence. Tell her I have an irregular situation on hands. And make it quick.”

“Yessir!”

* * *

The three of us—Fianna, Chloe, and me—were making our way through the sunset-baked streets of Adaville in no time flat. Apparently, the Governor gave us special permission to enter the city and go straight to her residence, so we had cruised through the immigration checks.

Although the twilight wasn’t particularly flattering, the impression I got from the city proper was that of magic-flavored Victorian London. The streets were narrow and cobbled, illuminated only by Lightning Magic Crystal lamps. Houses and factories shared the same neighborhoods, and the only hint of greenery was that of trees waiting to be processed outside factory walls. Humans and demihumans alike mingled, some making their way home, while others trying to find the nearest pub to get some ale.

“I’ve known Marielle for a few years, even before she became governor,” Fianna said after I asked her about this “governor”. “I don’t like to pull personal strings like this, but your situation is unique, so I thought she should personally know about it.”

“And will the Governor be okay with meeting us at this hour?”

“She’s a night owl if I’ve ever known one,” Fianna said with a small chuckle. “I’m sure she’s going to prefer meeting us now than tomorrow morning.”

After some more walking, we left the industrial core of Adaville, and made our way to a posher area of town, where the five-storey buildings gave way to detached single houses. Fianna stopped in front of a particularly impressive mansion on top of the hill.

“This is it. The official residence of the Governor. It used to be the residence of AdaMeteor before the White Death made her disappear, too. Now, be in your best behavior, and everything will go well.”

I gulped dryly. I was actually starting to get a bit nervous, even.

After ringing the doorbell, a maid greeted us at the door; since we were already expected, she led us inside without much fanfare. The decor was opulent, to say the least, in a sort of modern take on what I expected Victorian mansions to look like. But I didn’t have much time to appreciate it much, as we were led straight to an audience chamber.

Inside the large room, with a single table capable of sitting maybe twenty people, was a single woman.

“Ah, welcome, Fianna and her guests,” she said as she got up. “I’m Marielle the Savior. I’m the governor of Adaville.”