Volo looked overboard for a moment and then re-focused his attention on the aromatic dwarf. "Chult is bordered on the west and the south by low, mountainous hills and lakes, and on the southeast, the direction from which we would be coming if I am correct, by savannahs," the master traveler stated.
"Savannahs?" the dwarf queried. "What are savannahs?"
"Grasslands," Volo replied. He gestured over the side, "like those."
"Oh," replied the dwarf, once again scratching his rat's nest of a beard. "I guess this isn't a good time to bring up a few things."
"Like what?" Volo demanded, barely holding his anger in check.
"Like we're heading toward that volcano over there, and, uh… "
"Spit it out!" the master traveler screamed.
"… and, uh, we seem to be losing altitude."
"You mean…" Passepout pressed.
"Yup," the dwarf replied. "We're going down."
Chapter 12
The Minnow continued its gradual trip downward toward the slope of the volcano they were approaching. Though the ship was falling at a reasonably safe speed, all crew members had immediately switched to emergency stations. Curtis took control of the wheel, trying to steer the ship toward a plateau that seemed to jut from the side of the volcanic mountain, while Volo alternated between throttling Grumby and trying to control Passepout, who was in an advanced stage of panic.
"We're all going to die!" screamed the chubby thespian. "Man was not meant to fly!"
"Shut up, you coward!" screamed the dwarf, barely managing to remain out of arm's distance of Volo
"Calm down, son of Idle and Catinflas!" Volo ordered, sternly yet calmly, then, switching to a tone of total belligerence, turned to Grumby and screamed, "If we get out of here alive, I'm going to beat you within an iota of your smelly hide!"
"Promises, promises," the dwarf retorted.
The airship's passengers could feel the hot and humid air wafting up from the jungle below.
Curtis yelled back to Volo from the helm, "We're still going down!"
"Why are we losing altitude?" Volo demanded of the dwarf.
"Well, I guess the rod that causes the ship to levitate might have lost its charge," the dwarf replied, again scratching his beard.
"You guess?" the enraged Volo retorted.
"We're all going to die!" the chubby thespian repeated.
"I'll try to bring us in for as smooth a landing as possible," Curtis called back as he tried to maintain control of the helm.
"I guess we'll just have to walk home from here," the dwarf taunted, enjoying the prospect of mixing it up with Volo, as only a dwarf could really enjoy a fight.
"Why, you…," Volo replied.
"We're all going to die!" Passepout reiterated.
"Land ho!" Curtis announced.
Thud!
All of the ship's passengers were thrown off their feet as the ship came to rest on the very edge of the volcanic plateau. Curtis had barely managed to steer the ship away from the uneven surface of the mountainside, which no doubt would have smashed the ship to bits.
"Safe at last!" Passepout announced, jumping to a conclusion that would soon prove to be erroneous.
Kwaaaahk! An unearthly scream pierced the humid mists of the mountainside.
"What was that?" cried the thespian, ready to resume panicking.
"Sounds like a pteradon," Volo replied, "one of the thunder lizards."
Kwaaaahk! The scream was repeated, its owner still obscured by the humid mists.
"Sounds awful," the thespian cried.
"I think they are herbivores," Volo answered.
"Come again?" Grumby queried.
"Noncarnivorous, plant eaters," the master traveler explained.
"Wonderful," Passepout replied.
Curtis swung down from the helm to join the other passengers of the now-landed airship. "Sorry for the rough ride," he apologized.
"I could have brought us down safely," Grumby grumbled, "if any one would have let me."
"The way you knew how to navigate this ship?" Volo replied.
"So I made a wrong turn," the dwarf muttered.
Volo realized that to act on his anger would be futile and would only succeed in wasting precious minutes that could be applied to solving their current predicament. They could not afford to remain precariously balanced on the mountainside, nor could they really walk home as Grumby had laughingly suggested. And even if his memory was right, and pteradons were vegetarians, he was more than aware that many of Chult's inhabitants weren't.
"We have to come up with a plan to get out of here," Volo announced.
"You have a keen grasp of the obvious," Grumby retorted. "I guess that's why you're a big-shot author, or so you say."
"Quiet!" Volo ordered, taking command of the ship away from the incompetent dwarf. The master traveler paused for a moment to survey their position and the condition of the ship. It was hot and humid the bug-infested jungle that surrounded their mountainside clearing hardly made for a comfortable resting place.
"Curtis," he ordered, "check out the condition of the ship, masts, sail bags, levitation rod, etc."
"Aye, aye, Captain," replied the youth, tossing a mock salute before he scurried back to the helm.
"Passepout, check out the ship's stores. If Grumby lied about his ability to navigate, we can't assume that he didn't lie about the extent of our provisions."
"Yes, Mister Volo, but do you mind if I grab a bit of lunch as I take inventory?" the thespian answered, once again aware of the rumbling in his stomach. "Crash landings always give me an appetite."
"Later," Volo ordered. "And also let me know what nonfood supplies we have below."
"Aye, aye, sir," Passepout replied half-heartily, his own groans over not eating joining the involuntary chorus of rumbles from his stomach as he went below to follow orders.
"Now you," said Volo, trying to retain control of his temper as he addressed the dwarf, "what do you really know about how this ship works?"
"Just what I told you," the dwarf grumbled. "No more, no less."
The two adversaries just stared at each other until they were rejoined by Curtis and Passepout.
"The masts, helm, and sailbag seem to be intact," Curtis reported, "but the levitation rod seems to have split a hole in the bottom of the hull. Good thing we weren't over water when we started to drop. She would have sunk for sure."
"Who cares?" the dwarf chided. "I can swim."
"Probably the way you can navigate," Passepout replied, trying to mask a mouth full of food. "Our provisions should do us for about a week and a half"
"There's at least four months' worth down there!" Grumby argued.
"Maybe for you," Passepout replied with a burp. "There are also several casks of glue and paint."
"All part of giving the Minnow a face-lift," the dwarf volunteered.
"Well," Volo observed, "whatever let out that screech seems to have gone away, so I guess we are safe for the time being."
Rumble. Rumble.
"Excuse me," Passepout apologized.
"I'm afraid that wasn't your stomach," Volo corrected. "I think it was the volcano."
Rumble. Rumble.
"She's going to erupt!" Grumby screamed.
"We're all going to die!" Passepout chimed in.
"Not just yet," Volo countered. "Curtis, ever take any geology classes?"
"No, sir," the lad replied sheepishly.
"I thought not," Volo said, confident that he had indeed seen through the story of the lad's education, "but I did, and before a volcano blows, there are numerous rumblings and other geological manifestations that may never culminate in an actual eruption."
"Geological manifestations?" Passepout queried.
A hot-air geyser sprang up from the rock of the plateau beneath the ship, fortunately escaping through the existing rupture in the hull.