Captain Fidley

The new season is incredible. The fight scenes between Eva and Remington Schmisse have been nothing short of incredible. Its also really showing off the different sorts of shushu artifacts.

"You might be interested in the spices, they're great for adding some color to bland food. We've got big bags of pepper, cumin and sea salt, some very good chili powders and a couple tins of this stuff called curry that has quite a kick to it." Wrenchhead said, conscious of the sudden coldness in Rime's voice. "Other than that we've got a lot of quality metalwork. Some nice steel horseshoes, very hard wearing and zinc coated to resist rusting. Nails, bolts and other hardware. Er, over here there are some scissors and we've got a variety of knives for cooking, as well as some pots and pans and all that."

"Well blow me down." the bosun muttered. His false-alarm adrenaline melted away, and he smoothed down the feathers on his head that had fluffed up when he was sure he was looking at a fight. "Yer a blasted spooky lass, an' no mistake. I need to go find my shipmate, though by now he's prob'ly curled up in a corner in a pool of his dinner."

I may add them back when I do a front profile. Sails are hard to depict end on when all you've got is a mouse and are basically abusing the Illustrator line and arc tools.

You might be interested in this thread, where we're brainstorming some of the background for the griffin lands. Just as an aside, Griffin technology is dirty, noisy and crude compared to what most people envision when they think technology. Their technological level is more compound steam engines and blast furnaces than computers and electronics.

Tiny had disappeared by the time Stormalong made it through the door. The fool was probably already wandering through the house. So there the bosun was in the foyer of a strange house, along with two young ponies who had followed him in for some reason. Then the door clicked shut on its own, and his blood ran cold. Sailors are generally a superstitious lot, and Stormalong was no exception to that rule. He believed in any number of spirits and supernatural guardians of sea, land and air. To put it shortly, he was no skeptic. Everything about this house screamed supernatural, and he made a sign of warding that his grandmother had taught him long ago. The crashing sound of the young pegasus futiley kicking at the door caught Stormalong's attention, and he rushed over while making a shushing sound. "Calm down lad, calm down. We're all shipmates in this and I'll get you two out of here. I swear it on my nest-mother's talons." he whispered, before turning and seeing the... apparition floating through a far door. "We mean you no trespass, spirit." Stormalong said, his voice flat and level, as he placed himself in front of the ponies. "I came in only after a shipmate of mine who is young and out of his senses. Let me find him and we'll be on our way." He made another sign of warding with his talons, his mind racing through the old stories and myths he knew. He had a steel deck knife and a silver coin in his pouch, but would either of those have any effect if it came to the rough and tumble?

I made an art! Image of the Venture has been updated from stolen concept to my own vision.

Take a look, add your comments And yeah, I've been thinking of opening up some spots on the ship. Be happy to see a common sailor or an engine room oiler. Maybe a cook or a supercargo.

Wrenchhead was cleaning all the strainers and filters in the engine room of the Venture, like he did every Saturday. To his surprise, he found a small sealed bottle in one of them, half buried in the usual muck and dirt. A message in a bottle? he thought, puzzled. Musta sucked it up outta the ocean when we took on feedwater last week. He took the bottle back to his workbench, tucked into a corner of the steel and brass maze that was his pride and joy. With a small knife he carefully cut out the cork and pulled out the letter with a tiny set of pliers. He sat back on his stool when he was finished, idly fiddling with a bolt. He was intrigued with the idea of a pen pal. The grease-streaked griffin had never really had time for friends, thanks to his apprenticeship to a master mechanic at a young age. Work had been the focus of his waking hours for as long as he could remember. He decided that the strainers could wait, and found his pen in a pile of parts. Finding a clean, blank piece of paper was harder, so he settled for the blank and not too-smudged backside of an old pump diagram. Raspberry Coral, My birth name is Ironbeak, but people have been calling me Wrenchhead for as long as I can remember. I'm a griffin, and I work as the main engineer onboard an airship called the Venture. It is a very big ship, and I have to do a lot of work to keep it flying. Being an engineer means that I'm responsible for making sure all of the machinery works. The engine is my pride and joy. It's noisy and hot to work by, but I keep it running smooth and all of the brass polished because its my job, and I'm proud to do it. Maybe one day the ship will come to your home. Despite all the traveling I do onboard, I don't always get to see much because I'm so busy working. I would love to see a tropical island though, and would definitely make time to get off. I think I hear my captain calling. I need to get back to work. Luck and Prosperity, Wrenchhead He folded the paper up, scavenged an envelope from the ship's post office and dropped the finished letter in the mail bag. It would go off into the system at their next port of call.

The crew of the Venture had hit the town hard, cleaning out most of the town's libation and leaving a scattering of greatly enriched innkeepers and barkeeps in their wake. With the night winding down and the town's establishments closing up, the crew headed back to their bunks on the ship. Some, too drunk or too tired to fly, curled up under the trees in the square. Stormalong and Tiny came a-stumblin up the street, the younger Griffin clearly "deep in the scupper with the stagger and jags" as the sailors called it. It was long standing tradition in the merchant air-fleet for the crew to treat their newest member at his first port-of-call, and the lucky one was obliged to partake. He had done so with gusto, and now the bosun was obliged to see him home, another burdensome tradition. The bosun had "scratched the itch" as well, though long experience left him in a much better place than Tiny. It was a good thing, too. Despite his nickname Tiny was almost a big as the old sailor, and almost as strong. "Come on, son." Stormalong muttered. "We're homeward bound to a nice warm bunk. Jes' put one claw in front of 't other, like that." "Cor, Stormy!" Tiny exclaimed, dragging to a halt and leaning up against an iron fence. "Gimme a breath to catch me bearings! The whole worlds a' pitchin' an swayin'!" He overbalanced and fell. "Cor." he exclaimed in a low voice as he got up. "That's a right trim house and no mistake. I wanna closer look." "Blow me down, boy, get back here!" Stormalong yelled, his patience running thin. But the drunk young griff ignored him, slowly opening the creaky door and taking a look inside. "Hallooo! Anyone aboard?" Tiny called, looking around.

She's a passenger/cargo ship (technically breakbulk). The crew grows as I find roles that need filling, so check the log. I'll try to keep it updated. We should chat regarding the whole griffin thing. I've got some ideas.

The thought of lightning got Whitetip's attention. "We'll have to rig a ground wire." he said thoughtfully. "There's an iron lightning rod on the dorsal mainmast, so we can lower the ground wire right quick if you don't mind us digging a small hole to anchor it." He reached under one of the tables and grabbed a speaking trumpet, shouting up to the ship "Ahoy on the ship! Roust the larboard watch! Rig for lightning and check the lines for slack!" With that he spread his wings and hopped into the sky. "I'll take me leave now, miss. Preparations to make, laggards to start, you know. Hold down the shop for me, Wrenchhead!" At that the grease-streaked griffin looked nervous. He spent most of his time down in the engine room, where the whirring and clanking of the machinery had made him a bit deaf. The prospect of sunlight alone was alien to him, and here he was in a foreign town talking to a strange pegasus. So he lapsed into his main line of defense, impenetrable engineering jargon. "Well she runs on high-pressure steam, for the most part. We've got, lesse, three Tinderclaw twenty-three bravo boilers that the Cap'n salvaged off a patrol boat, so they're all milspec and brasswork. Most of that steam goes to the lifting diaphragm in the bag. Steam's lighter than air so it keeps the boat flyin'. The rest of it runs the main plant and generator. The main is an old Goodwing 3 compound, but she does the job of turning the props when we need 'em. I spend most of my time on overhaul of that thing, while the rest of the black gang keeps the boilers stoked with whatever fuel we've got. The generator just spins and makes the juice for our lights, I'm no electrician so I just know engines..." he trailed off, staring awkwardly with his bright eyes and at a loss for anything else to say. "Er... nice weather, I suppose?"

Captain Fidley // Griffon // Male // Late 40s // Profile Linked //Threads The Airship Venture Cafe Delights Defensive Flying Bosun Stormalong // Griffon // Male // 50// No profile yet //Threads The Airship Venture Defensive Flying

"Thankee, Miss Katniss. If you or your friends need passage or need something shipped, we'll be in town for about a week." the captain said as Tiny came back with their coffee and sat down. "Cor, Cap'n." the young griffon whispered. "Some of these ponies are blasted colorful. Can't be natural, I tell ya. Who's born with neon hair?" "Quiet, boy, and enjoy your coffee." The captain grinned, rapping him playfully on the head. "They're our potential customers, so don't go about makin' comments about them and carrying on. I know this is your first time out of Talonopolis, but staring is rude in these parts."

Whitetip looked up from the pad of figures he had been scratching at with an ink-dipped talon, his look thoughtful. "Depends on the factors involved, aye? Wind is the most worrisome, though the Cap'n bought those mooring lines used off a bulk freighter twice our size. We'll uproot those trees they're tied to before they part. Rain is not an issue, its actually welcome. We're low on fresh water and I can have lads rig our water collectors before the storm. Can't think of much else, though it really depends on what you ponies call a "small" shower, aye yes. Worst case we end up needing to drop the anchors, though I wouldn't want to tear up a pretty square like this. He turned and hollered to the dirty griffon working on the platform, "Hey Wrenchhead, whats that mess of an engine room lookin like?" The grease-streaked griff downed his tools and came over, trying to wipe grease off his blunted talons with a filthy rag but really only spreading it around. "Oh, she's on standby and ready, mate." he muttered in a quiet yet intense voice. "I still want to pull the number three piston and check the bearings, but that can wait, again." he sighed. "Well, there you have it, young miss." Whitetip said, going back to his figures. "Let me know if you need anything else. We've got all manner of goods, the make and quality of such is simply rarely seen."

The following broadsheet was found posted on a storefront in the town center. Anypony looking up could see the massive airship floating overhead, swaying gently in the wind in the midst of a siderweb of thick mooring lines. The massive cargo doors were open, and a fenced platform had been lowered to the ground from the gondola. In front of this platform some tables were set up displaying a sample of the exotic wares onboard- fine Griffon metalwork, spices from far islands, bulk sacks of flour and grain and many other necessaries and trinkets. Behind these tables is a bored looking Griffon, his coat a dirty gray save for the pure white tips of his wings. Another is at work on the platform, fussing over some mechanical part. This one would be a light brown if he wasn't covered with grease, engine oil and coal dust. He's wearing goggles and a tool belt covered in wrenches and other mysterious mechanical bits.

[OOC] Fidley had allowed himself to go into a bit of a reverie as he often did when he smoked his pipe, taking rythmic puffs and blowing the smoke out the side of his beak. When the young pony addressed him, he snapped out of it, fixing her for a second in a gaze reserved for great annoyances before he remembered where he was. "My apologies, young one." he rumbled, taking the pipe from his beak and covering the bowl to starve the coals. "It has been some time since I last traveled in these lands, and I had forgotten that your people do not share my customs." The Captain stowed his pipe and extended a claw. "I am Captain Fidley, of the airship Venture, and master of the same. Perhaps we will have business in the future?"

The good Captain had promised the newest member of his crew, the helmgriffon "Tiny" that he would buy him a drink in their first port of call as a token of his first aerial voyage. Unfamiliar with the town, they headed into the first ship they found selling beverages. Tiny had never left Razorclaw Canyon before this voyage, and his eyes boggled at the array of drinks on the menu. Cap'n Fidley had to drag the boy over to an open table, where he ordered in the Griffon fashion by rapping his talons on the table and calling out "Two coffees, black!" His young crewman made a face, thinking of the burnt and triple-brewed ship's coffee he had forced down on the voyage to stay awake. The Captain grinned and mock-gruffly muttered "Son, you know that an Airship sailor never takes his coffee with anything in it. But never fear, this is better stuff than 'ol Cooky brews aboard. Anything in it just spoils the flavor. He sat back in his seat and fished for his pipe in the pouch he carried around his neck. Waiting for a drink was the perfect time for a smoke, and coffee would go well with the spicy taste of the tobacco.

[ Captain Fidley and the Airship "Venture" ] Name: Cornelius W. Fidley Gender: Male Age: Late 40s Species: Griffon Eye Color: An intense gold Physique & Colors: Still wiry and strong from his life "before the mast", though he is developing a bit of a paunch. The feathers on his head are a pure white, and his body a dirty grey. The fur on his lion half is a rich chestnut, though it is beginning to streak with gray. There is a tattoo of a fouled anchor on his right foreleg. Residence: Captain's quarters onboard the "Venture" Occupation: Master and Owner of the tramp airship "Venture" Likes: A real lifetime sailor, he's only truly happy underway with the wind in his feathers. His first love is for his ship, which is of his own design. He is an independent sort, and prefers to be on the move. He is a shrewd negotiator and enjoys a good haggle, which has done good things for his bottom line. He enjoys smoking a tobacco pipe, and is often accompanied by its sweet smelling smoke. Despite his gruff nature he is gentle around children, as they remind him of the family he leaves behind in Rockwing City. Dislikes: As the Captain of a ship he has no time for unprofessional behavior or incompetence, and those in his disfavor will find his temper short and his tongue biting. He dislikes having to stay in one place for more than a few days, and will become irritable very quickly if he is delayed by circumstance or mechanical failure. He is stubborn and set in his ways, as well as superstitious. Those seeking passage on the venture would do well to respect the customs of the airmen aboard, lest they find themselves put aground wherever the ship may be. Character Summary: Fidley is a life-long airship sailor, shipping aboard his first vessel at the tender age of 10. He learned his craft "Before the mast" with the common sailors, rising to the office of Third Mate by the age of 16. By 20 he had his first command, the air liner "Aurora". He finally saved enough wages to make his dreams of owning his own ship a reality, and with the help of some careful investing he commissioned the construction of the "Venture" on his 40th birthday. Now nearing 50, he has finally paid off the ship and is free to do as he wills with it, wandering Equestria and beyond with what cargo and passengers he pleases. The airship "Venture" measures nearly 300 feet long from fore to aft, and is propelled by two pusher propellors. These are driven by a triple-exansion steam engine in the gondola. The airbag is inflated with hot steam from the boiler, and kept warm by the revolutionary insulation qualities of the fabric. Within the gondola lay the bridge, crews' quarters and mess, as well as six double cabins for twelve passengers. Within the honeycombed airbag are the cargo decks, cranes and steam cells. The ship runs on no fixed schedule and calls at any and all settlements in Equestria.

Hello folks, I'm new to the site. Relatively new fan of the show, but I've watched all the episodes and love the setting. I've always wondered about the backgrounds of these settings- how things work, how stuff gets moved. I've been working on a concept for a sort of skyfaring tramp steamer. I read in the description for the Griffon cities that they are more steampunk then the rest of equestria, so I feel that an airship hailing from these regions would work fine. The ship would be a mobile platform for RP, carrying passengers and cargo between the various regions of Equestria. I found an image that fits this concept to a "T". It really combines the modern-looking shape of a zeppelin with the romanticism of a sail-bound tall ship. The Zeppelin itself is inflated with superheated steam, and has a small pair of propellers on the gondola for steering and when the wind is down. Here you see it venting steam as it descends. I've always loved the "Salty Sea Captain" character archetype, and that's what my proposed Griffon character, Fidley, fall under. He's the master of the Airship "Voyager"/ I'll be posting that whole thing in a bit. Afraid I'm a rather terrible artist, but I make up for it with my writing. But anyway, I'm glad to be here and hope everything works out.