The world seemed to compress and contract. Wind snapped at his clothes, and a lurching feeling gripped his stomach as he took another step forward. Expecting it though, he steeled himself against the urge to vomit and continued. Then, as quick as it had started, he was through. His feet back on solid ground, the gateway began to disappear behind him. The familiar stench of Baldur’s Gate returned him to thoughts and memories from a long time ago. He was back.
The Price of Beauty
Rocket was a small rabbitfolk, standing just shy of 4 feet high and weighing in at 40 pounds soaking wet. He spent most of his youth in the streets and back-alleys of Baldur’s Gate, and in his teens fell in to steady work as a mercenary. Now, his once sleek silver fur had become a patchy grey, and the red leather jumpsuit from his mercenary days was heavily faded to shades of brown and beige. But he still possessed a big buck-toothed grin and his welding goggles were in prime condition.
Ever since stepping through the Price of Beauty portal in Candlekeep’s library halls, and the close encounter with the hags at the Restful Lily spa, Rocket was left with the firsthand knowledge they really weren’t alone in the universe. He had heard of wizards and sorcerers teleporting to other locations, and even of the existence of different planes. But this was beyond the tales of where demons and gods came from. This was something else entirely. There were real worlds out there for mortals to explore and learn from, and some they might even need to defend against.
The experience shook Rocket, and not long after him and his friends dealt with the hags and freed the spa patrons did he choose to veer from his mercenary path, never to look back.
Years of Study
The young artificer made it his mission to study the mysteries of interplanar travel. Starting with Candlekeep, he quickly reached the limits of the materials open to the public. Then he turned to mages and historians, travelling the continent from the lands of Faerun to Kara-Tur. He learned of runes and secret words to speak, he found spells written in ancient books along with their philosophy. For the next, almost 30 years he encountered many different symbols, some that he recognized, but more that he did not. Rocket would studiously copy these symbols, letters, and numbers, into his many notebooks.
Eventually, his own library became a more valuable resource to him than the outside world. He withdrew from society, hiding away in a shack on the countryside. Once in a while exploring a lead in the real world, but majority of his time was spent in his workshop, pouring over his old notes and tinkering away with his inventions. It was here the dreams began, symbols drifting through his mind’s eye as he slept.
Rocket’s speech had worsened over the years, becoming a scattered stutter. It turns out spending months at a time in solitude with no one to converse with other than your automaton creations can have a negative effect on spoken language. But his mind was sharp as ever, continuously unravelling clue after clue to the long and complex make-up of the universe.
Coming in with the storm
One particularly stormy day, Rocket was holed up inside his workshop, experimenting with his latest mechanical homunculus. He had dreamt of the symbols again last night, and he began to absentmindedly trace one of the sequences onto the metal breastplate of the construct. A flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder simaultaneously jolted him from his daydream, followed by a sharp knocking on the front door.
Standing before him, was a tall, slender woman, with long dark hair pulled over one shoulder, and a navy blue complexion. She looked like she had been caught out in the storm, and she pulled a marvellous rainbow woven cloak more tightly across her shoulders as Rocket welcomed her inside. He gestured to a worn, but comfortable, armchair that sat across from him at the work table, and then put a kettle into the fire for some tea.
“Thank you Rocket,” her voice was both soft and sweet, and powerful at the same time.
He paused, “How, do-do you know?” stuttering and pointing at himself.
“I know many things,” she smiled pleasantly and seated herself in the armchair. “Including where that is.” she pointed to the inscription Rocket had just finished making on the homunculus.
“Where?” Rocket cocked his head in confusion.
“I can show you. But first, let us enjoy this tea you’ve prepared.”
The strange woman introduced herself as Amito, she had travelled long and far to find this place. Rocket was not used to hosting or conversing much at all with other living creatures, but the two were able to settle in to conversation easily enough. Rocket used a lot of hand gestures, as if he had forgotten the words but still understood the meaning, it didn’t seem to phase Amito.
The Gatekeeper
She wanted to know how he had come across these symbols and what he knew of them. Rocket told her of his encounter with the portal in Candlekeep, and his nightmares and visions that followed. How the symbols kept cropping up in margins of pages, in footers, faded inscriptions on cave walls that had since been painted over with more familiar letters and numbers. He couldn’t make complete sense of it, but believed it to be connected to interplanar travel. With every clue he uncovered, more questions crop up, but he had found nothing to disprove his theories. He showed Amito some of his findings and his most recent trains of thought.
“My people once travelled the stars,” Amito began to explain, “we discovered and invented many ways to transport people and goods from place to place. Not just on our world, or in our universe, but across planes and through dimensions into other universes. But we spent so much time looking up that we forgot to look down, and eventually our society crumbled into ruin. I am but one of a few who remain.”
Amito was solemn after this, and Rocket waited for her to continue.
“We are too weak to exist in the mortal world for long periods of time. When I lost my mortal body and access to the tools and resources we once used, I had to discover a new way to move from place to place. You may have heard of the ‘Dream of the Blue Veil’. It is similar to that. These symbols you have stumbled upon, they are one of the secret keys to coordinate travel. But you have only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg. Do you want to know more?”
Rocket felt dizzy, he knew the room was a bit hot and the tea he had served was strong, but the root of his spins were from the excitement. He had been searching for answers for almost three decades, and now he felt he had only scratched the surface. This, Amito, could she provide him with the knowledge he thirsted for?
Rocket furrowed his brow and tugged at his goatee with one hand, searching for the appropriate way to respond. He slowly spoke the word “Always” and nodded.
“Of course,” Amito smiled, “You are always looking to gain knowledge. And this question of what is really out there in the universe has puzzled you for so long.”
Rocket’s toothy grin returned.
“My home world has all but forgotten my people’s footsteps…
…it has given birth to a new people now. Much more humble, resilient, and deserving of our beautiful planet. They foster the land and help things grow, when they look up to the sky it is only to ask us for guidance. They do not seek grandeur like we did, they only wish to exist and that is more than enough. And so, I have learned from my people’s grave mistakes of the past and seen what good people can do for the world. I have sworn my existence to helping those in need.”
Rocket was enthralled, a – was she a god? – was standing in his living room, telling him of rising and falling civilizations. Of cross-dimensional travel. She was both beautiful and terrifying and inspiring and confusing all at the same time.
“Rocket, I want you to captain the SS Discovery. I want you to be the guide to those who are seeking a new path. For those who have been subjugated and seek refuge, who flee from certain suffering and death, who deserve a second chance in a new world. I can open the gateways but I want you to ferry people across from their homelands.”
Rainbow River
Rocket was given time to make arrangements, and say goodbyes, but he had been such a recluse for years it didn’t take him long to settle everything up. He had to wait a season for Amito to return, until the dawn of a particularly stormy night. As the sun rose, a double rainbow appeared in the sky and Amita knocked on Rocket’s door for the second time.
“If you are to be the ferryman, I would have you know where you are ferrying people to.” Amito traced her finger along the archway of the door in a familiar pattern of symbols. “You remember drawing these don’t you?” Referring to their first meeting.
The symbols glowed bright, contrasting against the dark wood stain. Amito spoke a few words under her breath, and then opened the door to Rocket’s shack. “All aboard the SS Discovery.” She winked at him.
Instead of opening up to the morning light and rolling hills of Rocket’s homestead, a dark purple starry sky expanded in all directions.
Amito stepped through the gateway with Rabbit in toe. As he walked through, his stomach rose to his mouth and he felt as if he had been spun upside down and sideways at the same time. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to make him vomit and fall to his hands and knees. Once safely through the other side, Amito helped him to his feet and aided in cleaning him up. They stood on a wooden barge, about 20 feet across by 40 feet long. Amito picked up the longpole from against the barge’s railing, and pushed off from the gate. Rocket’s door started to shrink as they sailed outward, until it was naught but a speck of light on the horizon then disappeared altogether.
The most spectacular of all, for Rocket at least, was the shimmering river they seemed to be floating along. He noticed Amito’s cloak and the river shone with the same multi-coloured pattern, all the colours of the rainbow reflecting. He bent down to grab a handful of the liquid as they sailed through, it was cool but not cold, and turned to smoke and floated away when he tried to cup it in his hands.
Amito allowed Rocket to soak in the wonders of astral travel, as she steered the barge towards her destination.
A New World
A wooden archway appeared on the horizon, the same thread of symbols Amito had traced back at Rocket’s home illuminated across the top of it. She steered the barge to the gateway and tied it off. With one hand, she clasped the totem she wore around her neck, and with the other she held Rocket’s hand. They stepped through together.
Slightly less woozy this time, Rocket was able to stay on his feet. But the beauty he now saw before him almost had him blown over again. He had seen charming wilderness before, but this new world was something else entirely. A mix of pink, red, and purple clouds swirled on the horizon as the sun set across the plane. Rolling hills funnelled into a river valley and a small cluster of huts could be spotted on one side. A warm breeze carried fresh scents of wheat and honeysuckle, and a gentle chorus of grasshoppers sung from the grass.
“They will be expecting you, and will help set you up with a new home here. There are no other rabbitfolk, yet, but you will fit in well. Don’t you worry.” Amito looked back over her should as the gate began disintegrate. “I will be able to communicate with you more frequently here and guide you as you continue your studies on interplanar travel. But for now, just enjoy yourself, I will be in touch soon.”
And with that, Amito stepped back in to the archway as it disappeared into nothingness.
Rocket padded his way down to the gathering of huts by the river, and was pleasantly greeted by a group of children running out to meet him. They looked human, had slight points to their ears but were not elves. One of them extended a palm up towards Rocket, and he was surprised to see a flower grow from bud to full bloom in a matter of seconds. The child spoke a familiar word and offered it to him.
The Skipper
A full harvest cycle passed before Rocket saw Amito again, but as promised, she had been in touch. Amito chose to speak with him as he drifted into REM sleep most nights. She would paint him visions, her memories of travelling the astral sea and the rainbow river. Visions of gates to other worlds and their coordinates etched along the gate’s archways. In his dreams, Rocket would sail alongside Amito as she navigated the barge along the river. He would ask her questions without opening his mouth, and she would answer without speaking. He felt he was finally beginning to understand some of the complexities of the universe.
When Amito showed up at his hut one morning, he knew this would be his first real test. “You are ready.” She placed a totem around his neck and led him through the gateway. “No need to bring anyone back this time, but you will travel to a new land. You will look upon it, and you will come back here.” Rocket nodded, excitedly.
His first trip was, thankfully, quite dull. He steered the SS Discovery down the rainbow river to the gateway of his choice, the symbols Amito had shown him in a vision were etched here. He passed through the gate, into a desolate scene of abandoned homes and corpses, the smell of rot and decay and smouldering ashes. It was not a pleasant sight, and he quickly turned back to the location he started. Rocket pulled out his wand, and traced the symbols for his new home in an arching pattern in the air. The gate re-opened, he stepped back on to the barge, and sailed away.
Rocket had many more journeys in the astral sea, riding the rainbow river from one gate to another. But on these journeys he did not merely take in the scene and leave. On these journeys that followed, he would hole up for days, sometimes weeks, to connect with the would be refugees he was to bring back. At first, Amito would tell him where they were, but as time wore on he would often hear them call out to him for help through his totem.
Once he connected with the people, Rocket would have a riddle for each of them.
It would be a simple riddle, but how they responded would dictate whether or not they could be brought back to the New World. This was the one stipulation Amito had placed on Rocket.
“They must be worthy, or you cannot bring them back. No matter how great their need, they must exemplify humility and compassion.” She stressed.
And so, Rocket became “The Skipper” or “Skip”. His name echoed on the lips of those in war torn countries, victims of disaster and misfortune, of being on the wrong side of history.
Whisper for the Skipper when you are at your darkest hour, and maybe, if you are worthy, he will come find you and bring you to paradise.