The landscape of Eldamar spread out like a giant map as far as the eye could see. From this altitude Abby’s view was the same as from an airplane. Below the fields, trees, and rivers looked like tiny miniatures. Only Abby wasn’t sitting safely buckled into an airline seat, she was trying to stay seated on a magical cloud.
A few hours before Abby had been standing the high towers of the ancient elven city of Du’Disbard listening to a crash courses in cloud riding. Being human learning the finer points of cloud travel was complex. She paid close attention to everything her instructor had said and now knew the principles of flight, basic methods for steering, and magic that prevented riders from slipping through clouds.
Now she was floating above the earth trying to real all the lessons while caring on a conversation with the cloud. Everything was so strange. Even as child playing pretend, Abby had never dreamed clouds could talk but she also had never imagined herself riding one so she forgave her younger self lack of imagination.
Drifting through her memories Abby had allowed the conversation with the cloud to fall silent. A thunder crack startled her back into the present. The cloud was seething from being ignored. It was then Abby remembered her mentors last bit of advice, “Always avoid conflict and arguments a magical cloud. Clouds’ feelings are easily hurt and emotional especially nimbus which are prone to erupting into thunder over the smallest injury. If you’re not careful you could have a very wet flight.” Turns out that more than half of the mountain storms were due to moody clouds. But the advice was recalled too late, by the time they arrived at the Granagor Abby was shivering, soaked, and considering renaming the nimbus cloud Imbecile.
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