And another Beautiful Dawn

You are awoken by an orange light. The mists and clouds have receded, and the Sundered Sun rises as a golden fire from the Sea. Not a wave, not a ripple, disturbs the glass-green waters, flat and calm as your Mirrormap. The Demeterhas maintained speed and course, the engine’s hum pushing the silver arrow ever onwards.

A Mariner knocks to deliver coffee, sugared porridge and a report. The night has been quiet, and the Crew are in good spirits. You dismiss him with a few warm words and then enjoy your cooling breakfast in silence.

The burnt-bark taste of the roasted Poisonoak coffee stays on your tongue as you make your first round. Two Mariners mop the deck, beaming at your shouted encouragement. Lunch-time smells mingle with the salty air, drawing you to the caboose for a check-in and a refill.

You compliment the cooks for their efforts. Adding minced Pagan Berries to the sizzling jerky makes for decent eating, spiced with garlic maybe even good. The large pot of Tack porridge bubbling beside looks less appealing, a mass of brownish-grey, tasteless gruel. You do not even consider the question of rationing until you have descended to the engine room to find the reading on all the gauges to your satisfaction.

But the sense of achievement fades all too quickly, replaced by the first dull throbs of an oncoming headache. You have more organising to do. The new cooks took as much meat as fit their pan, unconcerned with the need to actually feed the Crew. There is gruel enough and you, a Captain now, can expect a proper meal. {if Connected: The Almost Archaeologist = 1} As can your passenger. {endif} And they all did well, considering, it might be wise to reward good behaviour. There is a larger pan and it should not be too much work to fry more.