We spent weeks repairing the old dwarvish airship we found, as well as learning dwarvish so we could read the manuals and operate the voice-command magic mouth-based controls.
Our first and only voyage lasted less than a whole day. My guy Osric was at the helm because he had nine ranks in Profession (sailor). Turns out this old dwarvish machine requires a DC 30 check to steer it and DC 40 to land safely.
And where did we end up crashing? In the backyard of the Flaming Pagoda of a ferocious necromancer named Pagdush Firethrower, who we only know by name because we are in possession of an artifact he created and no doubt wants back. So we got the hell out of Dodge before he cast stone-to-flesh on his army of petrified orcs. We crashed right in the middle of the stony sons of bitches.
We're not sure if the Cloudfool will fly again, but we know we won't get much time to repair it under the nose of this wizard. In the interest of denying assets to the enemy, Dix the Warmage pops a burning ray into the hydrogen tank from maximum range. After we pick ourselves off the ground we start hoofing it out of Pagdush's valley retreat.
We end up killing a bunch of trolls just so we can huddle for warmth in their stinking cave. Pagdush's valley is up a mountainside well above the snowline. We had found the airship in a realm trapped in a perpetual magical blizzard, so we traded one icy environ trying to kill us for another with no real break in between.
"Man, is there anything Jeff CAN'T do when it comes to gaming? This guy is like a critical 20 every roll. Jeff can bite the heads offa five game geeks, including their sorry-ass DM, and spit 'em into a large duffel bag ONE AT A TIME!...that's just the kind of messed up bastard he is! You think yer a gamer, punk? Well..do ya? Jeff will depants your weasel-ass right in front of your grandma."