Clash of the Sky Galleons Read Online Free PDF Page A

had shared ancestors who were all of these and more. Kobold the Wise, leader of theThousand Tribes centuries before the floating city of Sanctaphrax was even dreamed of, had named these outsiders fourthlings - for the blood of the tribes from all four corners of the Edgelands mingled in their veins.
    Ever since then, fourthlings had made their way in the world without the benefits of clanship and tribal protection. Instead, they worked and lived amongst their Edgeland neighbours, becoming slaughterers or woodtroll timberers as the occasion presented. The trogs and the goblin tribes of the Deepwoods refused to have anything to do with fourthlings, but in the great melting pot of Undertown, these same fourthlings prospered.
    They became sky pirates and Sanctaphrax professors, leaguesmen and merchants. Here in the bustling city, tribes lost much of their importance, and power and influence was gained through guile and cunning, not clan loyalty.
    Yes, Thaw Daggerslash was proud indeed to be a fourthling.
    There was a smirk on his lips as he turned the corner of the long flight of stairs and, doubling back on himself, continued past the stacks of giant kegs onto the high balconies. Up there, where the rafters divided the broad ledge-like floor into garret alcoves, the light from the overhead lamps was at its brightest - though, paradoxically, it was also where the darkest shadows were cast.
    Thaw Daggerslash made his way along the upper balustrade, glancing into the individual garrets, where only the most important sky pirate captains - and the occasional high leaguesman - could be glimpsed, sittingat low tables in furtive conversation. He was halfway along the balcony when he heard the unmistakable nasal voice of Glaviel Glynte.
    ‘And I’m telling you,’ the tavern keeper was saying, ‘if you haven’t paid up in three days, then the Mistmizzen goes back to the boom-docks.’ Thaw could hear the sound of him cracking his knuckles, one after the other. ‘What’s more,’ he hissed, ‘I’d rather rip out its flight-rock and sell it on to the Leagues; I’d rather turn its timbers into furnacewood before I ever let you captain her again. Do I make myself clear?’
    ‘C … c … crystal clear,’ came the stammered response.
    ‘Glad to hear it,’ snapped Glynte. ‘Now, get out!’
    Thaw stood back as the hapless sky pirate captain scurried past him, head down and cheeks burning. It couldn’t be easy for a captain to have his cherished sky ship threatened with destruction like that - but then, Thaw realized, he must have known the risks when he first came to the Tarry Vine tavern in search of a loan. He was probably lured by the thought of adventure and riches, snagged by the tavern’s promise, only to find himself in the clutches of the grasping bloodoak himself, Glaviel Glynte.
    Glynte was well known for backing ambitious captains whom other more cautious tavern keepers had turned down. But if they didn’t deliver on his investment, Glaviel Glynte was notorious for destroying a sky pirate as completely as a bloodoak devours its prey.
    Thaw sighed thoughtfully. Now he was in the same situation as so many ambitious young sky pirates before him, coming cap in hand to this fearsome tavern keeper. That, he told himself, was as far as the similarity went. He would honour his debts, he’d make sure of it - for Thaw Daggerslash had no intention of allowing Glynte to destroy him. Thaw was going to captain a sky ship of his own and make his fortune.
    Perhaps one day, he thought with a smile, he’d be as rich as the tavern keeper - for Glynte was rich. Very, very rich.
    He, like so many other Undertown tavern keepers, had acquired his wealth by investing in sky pirate ships and then taking a hefty cut of the profits. From modest beginnings, he had built up a successful empire and now boasted a share in more than fifty separate vessels - as well as a magnificent palace in the Western Quays.
    There were many who were jealous of