Yutzen

In an upside-down forest of lichens and mold, clinging tightly to the dangling, dripping flora, a swallow and a skink crept their way from one stalactite to the next, with one eye always fixed on the rolling, dusty expanse below. One flew between them with ease, a streak of red and blue that flitted from one to the other and dug her spurs into the moss to survey the next flight, while the other practically submerged into the mass of lichen, with little more than their turquoise crest poking out from underneath. There was half a mile between them and the dunes, and they knew not even the “sand” that shaped them – a deep, sodden layer of fuzzy spores and other drifting detritus flowing from the forests to the North – would soften their fall if they slipped off the ceiling… But they hardly worried; even the one that couldn’t fly had a grip that would hold tight on bare rock, let alone these gnarled, overgrown fronds.

“Don’t start slipping now, I don’t wanna have to catch you.” Even the Cheli’s whispers were shrill, almost unwelcome in this breezy silence, and her sneer only made them worse. “You and that rifle of yours that’s gotta be half your weight. They’re gonna hear you all the way in the fucking Lakes with that thing!”
“You’d be surprised” was the Troxi’s reply, calm as they could manage under the strain of moving upside-down. “Besides, isn’t this a distraction, miss Chitwy? Better for them to hear the shot, make them realize it?”
Chitwy hung from her talons to face them, fixing them with a scowl before she deigned respond. “If you actually nail the shot, you don’t need the noise, it’s a bigger giveaway than anything else! You’re lucky this place barely has any echo, we’d be found real quick if it did.”
“Again, doesn’t that make the distraction better? We’re not the ones piloting a whole airship through the stalactites, looking for two little figures scrambling through the moss.” The skink was barely even looking at her, their eyes wandering all over the land beneath, admiring a landscape they’d never seen.

“Look…” Chitwy lingered, lingering on an empty pause where a nickname should be, before giving up. “Qarretzu, was it? Sure, this is a distraction, but we’re also supposed to survive this. Tag them and leave, gotta make sure they search where we ain’t, and where the boss and the others ain’t. And a big roaring gunshot’s good for the second one but it sure fucks us over!” Her wings stretched towards the distant ground, and reaching behind her, the claws on them pulled out a simple, dusty bow and a single arrow, which she couldn’t help but glare at. “I swear, just hitting one guy with one of these would be enough, they don’t even hear anything, and by the time he’s lying on the deck we’re just gone. But that’s the simple way, and that isn’t how we do things in this enterprise, isn’t it?”

The Troxi, however, was busy looking at the bow, and for once in this whole climb, he looked less than impressed. “Miss Chitwy… with all due respect, if we have to get close enough to use that they will see us, which is… worse. We might not get to shoot the ship in the first place that way…” After a second of thought, they looked back at the Cheli, with just a bit of embarrassment. “Or I might not, at the very least, miss Ziv-Ziri said you had practice with close-up hunting, with hiding until the last moment. I don’t, miss, my forte’s not at point blank range…”

Chitwy stared at the rifle in their hands, then at its wielder. Back at the rifle, long and soot-stained and scratched up, then back at the Troxi. She looked like she wanted to scowl, but was holding it in. “Fine then. You’re the new guy-”
“I’m not a guy, miss Chitwy”, they cut in with just a smidge of annoyance.
“Right. You’re the new hire, you tell me what your forte’s supposed to be here, that’ll keep us from getting blasted off the ceiling and falling off in little pieces?”

They’d heard a few warnings already about this one, but if they were to guess, it’d seem something about the rifle or its usage just set her off entirely… still, she wanted the facts, she’d get the facts. And so they began, hefting the weapon into their hands and looking it over. “I don’t need to get that close, miss Chitwy. I don’t need to get close at all by any metric, not with this one. I don’t mean to criticize your aim, but a bow is a bow, and this…”

A smile crept into the Troxi’s face, one that showed plentiful fangs – even the new ones, growing to replace the ones they lost back in the Luscent Steppe. Right where they got this rifle, from what would’ve been one of their captors had it not been for those two… A newer model from the Republics, a brassy repeater with a barrel that was almost too long for comfort, a Flarewood stock and room for ten bullets, each of which could kill even a war machine with the right aim. Hardy and deadly, everything one could ask for in the field if you had the size and know-how. “When you need to kill and run, being a mile away always helps, and this little beauty can make that happen, maybe even further. Mm, I have to wonder why it was in the hands it was, back there. That one seemed like the biggest idiot of the lot. And too short for it. Ironically…”

Yet when they looked back at the swallow, she looked skeptical. Baffled, even. “A fucking mile.”
The skink smiled just a little wider. “Maybe more, in fact, in good hands. And I’d like to think mine are! Proved it during my, erm, recruitment, didn’t I?”
Chitwy’s beak opened, but it took a few moments for her to actually say anything. “Alright, fine, I’ll give you THAT. But… still, a mile!? You know the kind of arc you need to land a shot a mile away, everything that can go wrong in that kinda travel time!?”
Their smile fell back to neutrality, and it took slight effort to keep it from falling to a scowl. “This… isn’t a bow, miss Chitwy. It doesn’t fire an arrow, you won’t see a bullet. You hardly need an arc for it, the shot’ll be there if you know how it’ll go.”
The Cheli remained unimpressed. “Don’t start acting like I don’t know what a bullet is, or like I can’t see one, you don’t know my eyes! But I know everything that can go wrong in half a second, or less, and with that kind of distance, it’s even WORSE. A shot a mile away does nothing if you miss it, other than give us away!”
Now Qarretzu frowned, stopping themselves before they outright snarled. “Miss Chitwy, I don’t appreciate these… t-these comments of your, if you have these doubts about what I can-”

They stopped cold, and both pairs of eyes turned downwards, to the empty air underneath.

Breaching through the spore-laden fog, the two saw an oblong shape, bigger than either of them would expect or hope. And on a closer look, they saw it had plenty of far less oblong shapes all over it, a variety of unidentifiable fiddly bits and points; some of them presumable weapons thanks to their length, and far too many of them much harder to infer. And with the sight of it, came its sound, a constant, rattling hum that should’ve been far louder to match a thing of that size.

An airship. An Urul Canyonking, to be exact, prowling what the Bannerbound thought was the rightful edge of their nation. It would’ve been overkill for the Pact’s hunting parties that usually wandered here, and it was definitely overkill for them, yet here it was, lingering and ready to rain down hell.

The first to break the silence was Chitwy – which Qarretzu was almost thankful for, despite wishing she’d shut up moments before. “Why the fuck is one of these here? That’s not some patrol boat, that’s an actual fucking warship! Did the Pact start something without telling me? Are we caught in the fucking crossfire!?” She landed on a stalactite, creeping backwards into the thick mass of lichen almost on instinct. Again, she chirped to herself, quiet yet perfectly audible to them: “No, couldn’t have been away so long that I’d miss a fucking war, this has to be some… coincidence. It’s alone, right? It’s gotta be alone.”

After a moment, the skink cleared their throat, and offered a meek answer. “I’d… I-I’d like to think so, and I can only see one, much as we almost missed t-this one…” They clung to rock and rifle alike so closely they found themselves with no free hand to use, and barely enough space to maneuver and keep an eye on the vessel… The oversized vessel, dozens of feet below, just past the stalagmites. “O-on the plus side, I don’t believe anyone there’s seen us yet. That’s a positive, I hope, though the idea of making them look up…” They couldn’t finish. Not when the thought of having to distract that crept into their head.

Yet as the vessel passed underneath, they both realized they’d have to do it, because if this drifting metal hulk caught so much as a whiff of the team down below in their wagon… it was a sturdy thing, sure, a boxy assembly of brass and iron with thick plate all over, and even the triangular cabin jutting out front for the driver was pretty reinforced for something so glassy. But it wasn’t a war machine in the least; just one cannonball would scatter team and wagon alike across the dunes, in smoldering pieces. Down there, they’d have little room to maneuver around an actual fusillade, especially of the caliber this aerial monster packed. Up here, they’d have far more maneuverability, they’d barely be seen, and they had actual cover, even if that meant little against the artillery battery pointed at…

“...wait how many of those are actually pointing up?”, Chitwy blurted after a moment of thought. “I don’t see any.”
And with a longer look, Qarretzu couldn’t help but confirm this suspicion. “Actually… hardly any, as far as I see. There may be some… observation decks, and… those are bare hardpoints, aren’t they?” They asked absentmindedly, noticing some oddly clean and oddly bereft spots over its armor.
The swallow nodded. “I guess, I think I see sockets but I sure don’t see guns.”
A different thought crossed Qar’s mind in turn. “Now that I think of it, it’s flying fairly high, isn’t it? We’re… closer than I’d like, but that might mean something. No guns above, and nearly scraping the roof…”
And the Cheli answered in turn, showing some actual joy for once. “It means something, alright. They’re not expecting us.”

And with that, she took off without warning, flitting from pillar to pillar, mosspile to mosspile, hiding her approach towards the dirigible below with bow in hand… nothing more to it, the Troxi thought. Time to make a distraction. It’d be nice to have her as a spotter, but they were understaffed as it was. Nothing left to do but to crawl into the lichens, wrap their tail around an uneven rock, and get into position with their rifle aimed downwards, pointed at the airship, looking for anything that looked like a soft spot, even just a window to smash or a sentry to drop. Ideally something opposite of where Chitwy was going, to keep their attentions away from her, and perhaps make them think they were being attacked from two different angles. If they wanted to be a hassle, and make themselves harder to find, that’d be ideal…

Yet circumstance wouldn’t let them have it, as the first watcher to take up their spot on the decks was right on the Cheli’s side, becoming priority target number one. If the blurry shape down there so much as looked up, they’d blow their surprise. So they took aim, readying up a snap shot towards the deck, something that would distract this one even if they missed – if the alarm was to ring, better that it ring before they knew where to point their guns. With the target in sight, obscured by clothing as all Bannerbound were – a raincoat of sorts, might be Clan Sofize – they felt the wind running through the vines and their scales, took a second to measure the ship’s speed, accounted for it all as they aimed… then tilted said aim just a tinge, to make sure the shot would land behind the target if they missed. More distracting that way.

BLAM

Sparks flew, but a few inches away from the sentry’s heels. Damn it. At the very least it would indeed be a distraction, as the target wheeled around in a panic, almost stumbling away from the impact area and staring at the bullet hole, realizing just how close they’d come to death. Immediately they began glancing around, immediately looking upwards-

And missing the shadow that flitted a few dozen feet behind them, as well as the thin blur that raced away from it and into their upper back. But Qarretzu sure saw it, watching the unfortunate sentry seize and collapse with an arrow right through them. Nice to see she could pounce on a chance like that without being told of it.

Nevertheless, they were committed to this little operation now, the shooting had started and they couldn’t stop yet. On to the next bullet, and to set an eye to the scope to see who came out next. Or what was next, with a rifle like this possibilities were fairly wide. First, a wider look around the hull, to see if any of the hardpoints had anything left open, or if the other observation decks had anyone on them. Scanning the outside, all over the plating, they saw nothing to pounce upon, not immediately at least. The hardpoints were plated over, and no one was yet leaving the observation decks…

Even as the vessel started tilting, turning towards its left, there was no immediate weak point exposed. At most, the observation decks were a little more visible and open, with one’s door just exposed enough to put a bullet through, even if Qarretzu had little idea of what laid behind it…

Nine bullets left. Might as well.

BLAM

Good, right through the window! Hardly any idea what they’d just hit on the other side of it, but it would’ve felt that shot for sure. On to the next bullet, again… though the Troxi felt a pang of curiosity, and looked around, just a bit away from the warship beneath, to see if they could spot Chitwy anywhere. Their eyes glanced around, all over the vessel’s surroundings, trying to spot even the slightest hint of red and blue, but that was far harder to find in this fog than the airship itself. Not even so much as a flitting shadow…

There she was! Lit up by a searchlight that had just turned on, pointed right at her as she zoomed towards the vessel itself, loosing an arrow at the spot right above the light – which got stuck halfway through the hardened window behind the projector. Damn it, even knowing she had that light right in her eyeballs that was far too impulsive – much as hitting it at all with a searchlight blinding her was remarkable, let alone breaching the damn thing somehow. Had some frightful strength on her claws, clearly. Still, she was spotted, the thing was following her, and it also presented a much more valid target than an empty window if it meant drawing attention from the crew. So, with a careful squint, making sure not to get too much light in, Qarretzu aligned their ironsights, accounted for movement and breeze, aimed for the very center, and…

BLAM

The crashing and sparking of the searchlight were barely audible at this distance, but the beam of light cutting through the fog visibly shorted out, before vessel and Troxi alike lost track of where Chitwy had gone. Watching the ship tilt further, just enough for other searchlights to start scraping the tips of the stalactites, they decided that was too much provocation from this one spot, and packed their rifle away to start moving. Better to find another stalactite to hide in, three shots was more than enough for this one. Into the brush of lichens, slipping their tail inside and lowering their crest as they crawled their way through the ceiling’s underbrush, hoping the trail of dust and spores wouldn’t give them away…

“We sure got their fucking eyes on us now! Get over that one, they won’t see it at first!”

It sure gave them away to the swallow herself, flapping in the air about a dozen feet away already. “You’re… fast, miss Chitwy”, the Troxi couldn’t help but blurt out.
“FINALLY finding out for yourself, huh!?”, she answered, stopping herself from outright shrieking. “Just keep moving, they’ll show more of those soon!”
“More searchlights, yes… Ideally, we take enough of those out, they won’t be able to find us, or anyone”. Qarretzu mused out loud as they scurried through, reaching the ceiling and dashing from vine to vine to get to a better, smaller stalactite to crawl onto. A better vantage point.
“More ANYTHING, you mean! Maybe it’ll even be anyONE by then, if you can put one of those through a window like I fucking couldn’t!”. She sounded miffed. A hunter denied her kill…
“If I can see them, of course. I only have so many bullets… but they only have so many lights, and can hardly find us even with them.” They popped their head out of the underbrush to answer, and found themselves at the base of the stalactite they were looking for. Down they went.
“Look, if by busting the lights you make them come out, then sure, keep at that and I’ll thin them out. But we gotta leave a mark!” She landed right behind them, clinging to the moss at the base while watching them crawl into the underbrush for a shooting spot.
“Ideally not so much that they keep hunting us after this, but enough that they’ll neglect our colleagues below, true…” Another musing from the Troxi, as they found a spot where they could wrap their tail around a rock, and get their rifle out once more…

Both settled down on the lichens for a look, to assess the vessel again, and locate any weak spots now that it had changed its plans and movements. “Not seeing anything yet, barely even turning the lights on on THIS side”, Chitwy muttered as she leaned with eyes peeled, “anything you’re seeing there?” Indeed, there were less targets than expected, though there were a couple searchlights already. No one on the observation decks, and the guns… they didn’t seem able to reach up where they were, yet, but they could hardly see any ammunition stocks, or anything other than the barrels. Though maybe, just maybe, if those things aimed directly up here, just enough to get a peek into the barrel, they could put a rifle shot down there and-

BOOM

...or maybe the guns could explode all by themselves.

“You’re not gonna fucking tell me that was YOU!?”, Chitwy shrieked, unable to contain her furious surprise.
“I-I won’t, miss Chitwy, I d-didn’t pull the trigger…!”, Qarretzu answered, about as startled if not more.

They looked again at the vessel, and the gaping hole it had right beneath one of its cannons. Pointed inward, ablaze, and clearly made by something with actual caliber, an actual artillery piece. The iron at the edges was still glowing hot, more melted than gashed. And more importantly, by the angle, it very clearly came from somewhere else in the fog. Somewhere to the East.

They both glanced in that direction, spotting a faint, pointed shadow moving alarmingly fast.

And they both followed a single streak of light, its tip almost blinding, as it rushed through the spore clouds to crash against the vessel they were supposed to distract, leaving a trail of flames. It crashed against the gasbag’s armor, almost weightlessly in spite of a resounding BOOM, leaving a massive wash of fire that poured over its surface; the core of the streak plunged right past the metal plates, leaving a perfectly round hole.

“T-that’s not a bullet, n-not a cannon shot…!” The Troxi gulped, with a glimmer of recognition in their mind.
“No shit,” Chitwy shrieked out, “that wasn’t ANYTHING I’ve seen, that was just FIRE! Does Embers have some older sister nobody told me about!?”

‘Embers’, or rather Usherrimi, their Ifchi pyromancer, who was down below in the wagon they were supposed to distract from. She had a point, that did look like mostly fire, and mostly…
Something clicked. Quiet nights at a Legion outpost, sifting through the pages on what they could expect to find and fire if they ever lent a hand to other nations – or faced them.

“...c-closer than you think, miss Chitwy, I think that’s.. a f-flame cannon. F-from Ishiss. No c-cannonballs, just… a marble with a seal and as much fire as it can carry around it. Marble c-cracks and the flames go everywhere.” Their voice trembled, as they watched the airship start dropping, meter by meter.
The swallow turned quickly, a full-body jolt to face the skink. “Wait was THAT what that was- I’ve HEARD of those! One of those things had set a swamp on fire on one hunt I did just East of here!”
They gulped, giving the idea some thought. “T-they do that, miss Chitwy, must’ve m-missed… t-they’re not subtle weapons. T-they save it for other nations, n-never defense, b-but…”
“Ain’t a hunting weapon either, if you’re gonna burn down all the spoils! Someone’s trying send one loud fucking message!” The swallow snorted, laying eyes on the vessel’s blazing wounds.
“O-or they’re raiding well above t-their weight, or they’re outright m-mad…” The skink’s eyes went elsewhere, trying to find the one responsible…

And there it was, bursting from a distant cloud of spores and ash, as Qarretzu nudged Chitwy to made sure she’d see it.

A pointed vessel with a strangely pearlescent hull, as if metal or timber had been plated over with a shell of its own, strung to long and narrow gasbags that seemed to have light of their own. It was barely a sloop, yet had spinning, buzzing engines fit for a ship twice as big, and an outright frightening array of energetic armaments they could not recognize at a glance… save for the unmistakable arrangement of a flame cannon, with its thick and short muzzle, abundant tubing and an ammo rack that resembled an enormous, hissing boiler, all mounted right at the prow. Right beneath that was the figurehead, a lustrous sculpture of a naked Ifchi, clinging tightly to the vessel itself while holding a golden orb right in front of them, pointed wherever the ship went.

And right behind that, in perfectly clear and styled Common Tongue, was the vessel’s name: Midnight Alight.

The sight answered some questions, and spawned many others. That wasn’t a navy vessel, and that was not an Ifchi name; whoever crewed that thing wanted to be known. And known they’d be, the way they bore down on this armored cruiser that seemed so menacing, so… excessive, a minute ago. Yet, watching the sloop do a breakneck turn to expose its broadside, and pelting the Clan ship with a fusillade of volatile energies that neither of them could identify, Qarretzu suddenly realized why a vessel of that size had been here.

“I d-don’t think this ship was the first one t-they dropped…!”, the skink sputtered, trying to sink further into foliage that could offer no protection.
“Yeah, they brought the big guns for a reason and it still ain’t enough!”. Chitwy sounded more startled than terrified, perhaps enjoying the luminous spectacle far more than Qarretzu could.
“W-what… what do we do now!? If that thing f-finds us, we can’t run! B-but neither c-can they…! What do we do, miss Chitwy, what do we do!?” They were battling their own growing panic, and they weren’t doing well at all. Deferring to their senior was the only option that seemed… safe, right now. She wasn’t panicking, right? Right…?
Not at all, from the sound of her voice. “Either we watch, or we take a side. If these guys want glory, we ain’t bringing it. If these guys want loot, they’ll get more than he can carry there. And if they want to piss off the Clans, then… fuck, let ‘em! I might even join in!”

The Troxi stared at her, concerned and confused at the same time. Back in the Republics, and even in the Legion, they hardly covered the myriad sorts of bad blood there could be between nations, so her comment left them wondering ‘what did the Clans even do?’ And yet, furrowing their brow, they realized it didn’t matter right now. If this sloop was raining hell on a Bannerbound ship, and had done so before, bad blood was a given – and maybe, just maybe, they could bank on being the enemy of their enemies, even just this once.

“…I can’t say I ever had trouble with the Clans, but…” Qarretzu said, peeking out of the greenery to aim their rifle once more, “…it’s been the first time for many things, hasn’t it?”
“Ain’t the first time I fucked with the Bannerbound, I’ll tell ya THAT!”, Chitwy almost squealed in return, before soaring off to get closer to their common target – not nearly as close as last time, but close enough to draw beads on anything that moved.

It was time to reassess the situation, and properly. The Canyonking was losing altitude, not quite precipitously, but still fairly quickly. It was trying to maneuver itself away from the stalactites, and back towards the presumable West, in a retreat that wasn’t looking likely. The Midnight Alight was circling the thing like it was already carrion ready for the taking, keeping above the bigger ship’s firing line at all times even if it meant having its gasbags mere meters away from the spiked ceiling of the cave. They must’ve known this thing would be hunting low rather than high, somehow… Or they just got lucky, not that they needed much luck with an ambush like theirs.

Still, the flame cannon had seemingly done its job, with the rest left to lesser, though abundant ordnance… some of it fiery, some of it seemingly explosive, but for plenty of these they couldn’t see the full effect of each impact. The only common threads were that they all seemed to be energetic, rather than any kind of shell, and that they were all luminous, leaving streaks of light as they traveled and flashing brightly as they made contact with anything. Some of them even seemed to be going past the hull itself, and lighting the vessel up from the inside, somehow.

Complete with several members of the crew vacating onto the observation decks, followed by puffs of smoke in some cases. Lucky them!

Narrowing their eyes, Qarretzu started aiming properly, looking to maximize chaos and minimize bullets spent. Which of these looked the most calculating, or at least fanciest of the lot, which of these looked like they gave the orders down there? That could be hard to ascertain with Bannerbound, it was seven different uniform schemes to keep track of. They still seemed to be Sofize, with ample hats and glistening coats that reached boot-covered ankles, but on one deck – opposite to the Midnight Alight’s assault – there were a couple different ones. One, probably from Zau, was wearing a patch-work nightmare of an outfit, with scraps from what might be five different uniforms seemingly sewn together into one cowled robe. And that one in the tight, silky white bandages that boasted their (probably her?) twisty figure while showing none of it directly was probably from Vesh-

And was the one Chitwy immediately shot with one of her arrows, nailing her(?) midsection and taking her out of the fight. Not from life, at least not yet, but kneeling like that with an arrow buried that deep, this Vesh-bound wouldn’t be shooting at anyone. As the others swarmed the injured, it was clear that’d be enough for one deck, time to check the next one.

A good decision, too, seeing this little crew gathering had a couple rifles of their own. More Bannerbound, that was certain, and again most of them were likely Sofize, dressed for rains that’d never come. But judging ranks was difficult, when a couple of them seemed straight out of Clan Vesnor; those fine silks, those flowing dresses that almost dragged across the deck, those buttons that gleamed like medals, and those glimmering veils they wore over their heads, hiding even their eyes? Hard to tell rank by refinement between those two, all that was left to do was compare with the others in their raincoats. See when they opened, as two acted as spotters for another who laid their rifle on the guardrail, presumably to aim at Chitwy. Then another stepped right in front, pointing with one finger, letting their open coat show the undergarment within and a pinned, golden badge-

BLAM

A snap shot. Better to just take it and make a mess than let them shoot unimpeded, even if the one with the badge – probably and hopefully a high-ranker – was in the way. And thankfully, it paid off, thanks to their powerful rifle and the lack of any actual armor within all those layers of cloth. The Sofize-bound with the badge held their torso and fell on their side, pretty much on the spot, though Qarretzu saw no actual blood. The sniper behind, however was both more and less fortunate; that shot to the hip didn’t look too deadly, but there was a fair chance they’d never walk again. And no one’d be shooting at Chitwy just yet, hopefully. A bullet well spent! The next one would need haste, though, as already one of the fancy Vesnor sorts had turned towards the ceiling, and the way they fixated, the skink could tell even without seeing that one’s eyes they’d probably spotted-

A blinding flash, and Qarretzu looked away, blinking rapidly and trying to readjust. Looking back, they saw the side they’d been shooting at was being pelted with streaking lights and immaterial projectiles, as if the Midnight Alight had already rounded the vessel. And turning towards the spore clouds, they could confirm exactly that: The sloop had made it all the way around in moments, and was evening out the barrage. It was hard to look at it, but at least one observation deck took a direct hit that scattered the occupants… ‘Should I be glad I can’t see what happened to them’, they wondered, before casting that thought aside…

Out of curiosity, they looked back at the sloop – rifle still pointed at the Canyonking, just in case – and leaned in, trying to discern just what kind of overly bold captain was steering it through this lopsided battle. They could see a steering wheel at the very front, right behind the guardrails; the one turning said wheel was obviously an Ifchi, with skin the tone of tarnished copper and long, lime-colored gills that seemed to flow behind him as if stuck in the breeze of his piloting. The captain’s eyes were hidden beneath thick blue traveling goggles, and around their sinuous body was a long, black tunic, with a high collar and trailing coattails right over the tail. His (they assumed) motions were… smooth, yet exaggerated, as if even the slightest twist of the wheel deserved a show of its own to all that were watching. And even at this distance, the skink could see a smirk, thrilled and just a little smug. All of this as if there was a spotlight to be shared, and he was trying and succeeding in snatching it from all others in his crew…

They saw him call out, and swing that wheel until it spun like mad, swerving the whole vessel around in a maneuver that would’ve flung someone off the deck if he hadn’t warned them first… just so he could turn the Midnight Alight on a dime, show the other broadside, and order a salvo on the exact same spot. Was that faster than reloading?

Qarretzu screwed their eyes shut as the guns flashed, one after the other, nearly scoring their eyes as a casualty. It was faster, presumable bruises aside.

Once the skink’s eyes stopped seeing colors in their own eyelids, and they could trust their own eyesight again, they glanced back at the vessel as it… stopped dead in its tracks, its only movement being downwards. Its gasbags burned, the hull crackled with the leftover energies that had rent several more holes in it, and the engines did all they could, even catching ablaze, just to slow the thing’s deceptively slow fall to the cavern floor beneath. What little they could see of the crew was… scrambling all over, some grabbing onto the guardrails on the observation decks and staring down, others rushing out and pulling said gazers back into the vessel, and lights flickering all around where the windows allowed a peek. There was even one unwise Bannerbound peering out one of the holes in the hull! What could a simple bullet do to a mess like that? All that was left was to find Chitwy and-

“Yeah I think we’re done here, Squib!”

They gripped their rifle tight, turning violently towards her with wide eyes. And yet in spite of being annoyed at the startle, relieved to see them arrived, and just a little terrified at the destruction before them, all they could say was one sputtered word: “Squib…?”
Yet the only acknowledgment she had of this new nickname was a dismissive wave of the wing as she went on: “If there’s gonna be any attention here, it’s gonna be on that guy, and he’s gonna be busy looting ‘em!”, she said, pointing at the dropping hulk.
“If anything is left by the time it hits the dunes…” they answered, staring with unease at the devastation. “B-but… you’re right, it’ll draw far more attention than any wagon down below. If there is even anyone left to pay attention…”

It was settled, then. Once the Canyonking had struck the earth, and the sloop landed to ransack what was left, they’d scramble away, down the nearest wall and towards their rendezvous. And indeed, the greater airship gave out at last, its engines puttering out in a blast of flame but a few dozen feet above the dunes. Even muffled by the soft bed of spores that passed for ground in this place, the thing still made an echoing, thunderous crash as it landed on them, the weakened metal crumbling around the holes its opponent had made. A great blast of flame was shoved out of the gasbag as its armor’s inertia crushed it to nothing, flattening the whole into the damaged hull below until it was practically blanketed by it, smothering its fires into the bed of sodden spores… Lucky them, if anyone had survived that. Knowing these caverns, and knowing the Bannerbound, someone likely had. But there was no time to check; just enough time to watch the Midnight Alight touch down next to it…

...which, after a few seconds that kept stretching, it didn’t. In confusion, they both looked around, then forwards.

There it was, still aloft, nearing the ceiling. Closer to the two than it had been a few moments ago. And it was pointed right at the two, and coming closer still, as its captain looked in their direction – with a Troxi at his side that was looking right at them.

Qarretzu froze, instinctively trying to bury their long and colorful self into the lichens, only to find those eyes were still on them. They glanced at Chitwy, who was already flying away, yet before they could even think of the idea she was leaving them to be caught, she was already flying back – and before they could be relieved in turn, she dive-bombed the skink off the stalactite, snatched them out of the air (while they barely held on to their rifle) and tried to carry them off, downwards and away from this thing that had so easily thrashed the vessel they meant to distract but a few minutes ago. Yet all she did was put them both in the spotlight as the vessel approached them anyhow, almost languidly in comparison to the breakneck pace they’d seen. They couldn’t outrun it, they’d have to out-maneuver it somehow…

“…M-miss Chitwy, above it! T-try above it!”, the skink sputtered, pulling on her tailfeathers to make sure she heard it. And she did; the swallow made a sharp, vertical U-turn heading upwards… and back towards the vessel itself, as if aiming to hide right above its gasbag where neither crew nor vessel could fire on the two. But where would they escape after that, they couldn’t wait out this ship forever, would she fly past it, force it to make a U-turn itself? All they could do was hold on tight, curl their tail around themselves, and keep a grip on their rifle, even if taking a shot like this wasn’t an option. Still, it paid to keep an eye on the targets…

But as soon as they looked at the deck, they saw a and a glimmer. Something sweeping, swirling through the spores. They yanked on Chitwy’s tailfeathers, hard enough to pull one off, to make sure she stopped in place and saw it as well. And so she did, stopping cold and flapping backwards, even if it meant Qarretzu had to hold tight as inertia made them swing forwards-

Leaving their tail to be caught in a spore-laden gale, strong enough to tug on it but not enough to actually pull them in. It went wide, right ahead of the two, barely dispersing until it struck the ceiling and scoured it of old lichens, leaving only that which was lively enough to take root.

And looking down, the captain was there at the prow with one boot on the railing, looking at them with a sly, confident smile. He had one finger pointed at them, his palm facing up as if he were about to beckon them closer. Then, once he saw he had their attention, his smile widened enough to show a surprising array of pointed little teeth, and he finally spoke: “Please, this is time to calm down! We had the same enemy! Don’t know what has a Troxi and a Cheli working together, but you helped, no? Come down, to meet properly!”

He had a voice like a tenor marred by the slightest rasp, an unwavering enthusiasm in every word, and a bizarre accent that Qarretzu could hardly recognize; the only other Ifchi they knew well was Usherrimi, and she didn’t sound quite like this. A glance at Chitwy’s face confirmed the confusion was mutual, much as hers seemed almost offended. But as the rest of his crew came on deck – mostly Ifchi, with the Troxi that found them and one… wax-riddled Bee, the most perplexing of the lot – it was clear they may as well take the invitation, whatever it was. Outlaws with a common interest, that’d have to do. They were about to tug on her tailfeathers one last time, gently now-

“Alright, FINE. If only because watching you fuck that thing up was the most fun I’ve had in weeks”, Chitwy cawed. And down she went, though Qarretzu was the only one to notice she dug her nails into their scales until they hurt. With some embarrassment, they handed back the plucked tailfeather as soon as they hit the deck, which she snatched off their claws quickly and brusquely. “All you need to know is we didn’t want that thing and its crew snooping. We were gonna just distract them, but”, she paused to look over the railing at the fires below, “this works just fine too.”

“Only distracting?” he asked with a little chuckle. “Distracting them for me, or were you going to shoot them like flies until you ran out of them? Though you were doing it! They were lining up for you, hah! Hahah!” The chuckle evolved into a sharper laugh, genuinely amused. “A distraction it was, they never saw us coming, and I think you got one of the spare captains too!”

“...spare captains..?”, Chitwy muttered, the bafflement taking the wind out of her wings.
“M-must’ve meant copilot of s-some kind, miss Chitwy”, Qarretzu whispered into her ear (or where they thought she had one), trying to hide it from this captain in a moment of distraction.

Then, this strange Ifchi shook his head as his smile warmed up, rounded the two, and laid his slimy arms around their shoulders, bird and skink alike wincing – not that he noticed. “You made this easier for us”, he said, “we lost nothing, and neither did you! I say this calls for at least a favor, no?” Letting go, and crossing between them before turning around on one heel to face them, he raised one arm high in the air, and lowered it to bow before them, his tail carrying the motion with a flourish that sent slime droplets far behind him. “So! A favor from me, Captain Shurrum Nish Isharral of Midnight Alight: Tell me where you need to go, and you will be there.”

Swallow and skink glanced at each other in silence, trying their best to communicate without a word. All they really needed, and all they really wanted, was to be away from here and back with their boss now that they had (more or less) done their job. This… exuberant captain clearly had business of his own. The business of… fame, probably, of someone that would shoot one of the biggest vessels the Clans could construct out of the air just to let everyone know it was him who did it. The kind of business with collateral damage none of them could afford.

But it seemed Chitwy had reasons beyond that, by the growing look of genuine disgust on her face. She was opening her beak, lingering on her next words, and… no, they couldn’t afford to taunt the captain either. With one hand on her (still slimed) shoulder, Qarretzu stepped forwards with the best smile they could manage, and spoke first. “Very kind of you, c-captain, b-but we were j-just going to leave, this is…”, they said, pausing to think of a way to say ‘you’re too blatantly showy to help’ diplomatically, before having a different idea: “…c-could you take us to our wagon? We’re h-heading on f-from here, a-and we have to be quiet about it…”

Then, Chitwy herself stepped forwards, nudging them back to presumably take it from there. “Yeah we’re running something quieter here. If you’re one of those ‘leave one to tell the tale’ guys, tell ‘em it was your guys.” Oh, that sounded clever, letting him claim a little extra fame if he wanted to, no harm done if he didn’t – hard to tell which he’d go for. “So all we’d ask is for a quick lift to the others, and we’ll be on our way.” A moment of silence, as she… squirmed, mentally, as far as they could tell, but a quick nudge from their tail and she got out what she needed to say: “Thanks though.” Practically spat the word out, but, it would do.

The captain nodded, keeping his smile. “Ah. From the shadows, then! I understand it! Very good, I won’t make you wait!” Striding over to the steering wheel, with his hands behind his back his tail slithering over the deck, he continued: “You tell me where this is, and I will get you there, ladies!”

“I’m not a lady, captain”, Qarretzu cut in almost instinctively.

Then, slight panic bubbled in their mind, suddenly concerned about their reaction. It was unlikely, but neither of them could afford a bad one. But they weren’t expecting Shurrum’s actual reaction: He froze mid-step with one hand clamping tightly around his other wrist, his eyes went wide, his smile twitched, and they got the sense he would be blinking hard if he could. Like they’d just hit the brakes in his brain, almost by accident… But after half a second of this, he was back to normal, like this pause never happened, and he just resumed his walk to the steering wheel with his voice just as lively as before: “Then you tell me where this is, and I’ll get you there, friends!”

Crisis averted, much as they didn’t know what to make of that.

Still, off they went, as captain Shurrum took the wheel in one hand, and the (presumable) speed lever in the other, and gave them both a pull, letting the vessel respond in kind as the engines kicked in, and sent the vessel sailing into the spore clouds beneath. It took Qarretzu a moment to realize they hadn’t told him where they were going yet, but before they’d taken two steps forwards Chitwy’d already rushed in, practically ramming onto the railing, to point a talon into the darkness. “More or less over there, I’ll let you know when I see ‘em!” She huffed, and glanced back at the skink with a look both alarmed and annoyed; all they could do was shrug.

“Yes, of course”, he answered while flashing a bigger smile still, one that almost let them see his sharp little teeth. “Same cavern, no? We’ll be there in just minutes! Must be important if this had you shooting at the Canyonking with a gun and a bow, no?”
Another glance between the two outlaws. This time, Qarretzu moved first, and rushed to reply. “W-we couldn’t afford the risk, captain, one shot from it and that would be it f-for our… enterprise as a whole.”
“Yeah why WAS that thing there anyways!?” Chitwy outright demanded to know, turning back to the captain. “Was it hunting you? ‘cause it sure wasn’t hunting US, even the Clans don’t do that much overkill!”
Yet in spite of the accusation, the captain just laughed. “Of course it was! They have been looking for me for months! And I always find them first!”
Qarretzu couldn’t help but mutter as they reasoned out loud, “they must think the bigger they send, the better the chance at getting… g-getting one shot on this. T-they might think it’ll be enough if it’s a b-big enough shell?”

And suddenly, they found the captain sidling up to them in an instant, with just one hand on the wheel, grin practically pointed at them. “It doesn’t matter how big if they don’t get to fire it, my friend!”

They would’ve said ‘fair enough’, but with that kind of invasion of personal space they just saved their words until a tug from the wheel snapped his attention back to piloting; learning their lesson, they backed away towards the railing, and turned around to search for their destination in the billowing sporeclouds, as they all made their way through. Four knowing eyes was better than two on this. And, more importantly, it kept them both out of this captain’s overly friendly reach…

…six eyes, now, as the skink that acted as the captain’s spotter stepped forwards and looked over the railing. Dull palette on him now that they got a closer look, mostly an earthy red with a light brownish underbelly. His crest was a brilliant purple, though, as if his very feathers were made of amethyst… to match his eyes, in fact. Not unheard of, but kind of unusual. He leaned in far over the railing, reaching out with his tailtip to latch onto the guardrail and practically throwing himself over it, landing just far enough to see directly below the vessel if he needed to… all without a single word.

Chitwy just stared, her face stuck in an odd expression that was between concern and annoyance. “You… seeing something down there? I could always just fly and check.”
This other Troxi’s response was to wave his finger in the air, a denial of her words, before leaning further into the cloud as if the extra inches would help him find something. “Don’t mind that”, the captain said from behind them all, “my first mate never speaks.”
Said first mate’s only reaction was to glance back at the bird, motioning with one thumb at a spot somewhere in the spores, then turning to Qarretzu to do the same, one brow raised with what might be annoyance.

After a quick look at each other, both outlaws focused on the spot this Troxi was pointing at, seeing nothing but the fungal fog before them… at first. After a few moments, a few more meters, and a finger pointed far more aggressively, the tell-tale glint of a wagon’s lights… their wagon’s lights, cutting through the spores as the vehicle made its way across the dunes.

“T-that’s the place, yes” was all Qarretzu could say, wondering how the first mate’s eyesight could pierce the clouds before their own, or before Chitwy’s. They’d always thought of themselves as a good spotter, but this one-
“How in the fuck did you even see it!?”, she blurted out right then and there, voicing their thoughts in far more crass a manner than they would have.
The captain’s voice answered in his stead. “He has very good eyes, lady, keeps surprising me! Could see the end of the cavern without the clouds!” For good measure, he left the wheel behind momentarily just to lay his arm across the first mate’s shoulders, pulling him in. “Shame we can’t shoot that far, no?”, he added with a grin – completely ignoring the skink’s resigned (if amused) look.

But then, Shurrum slid right back to the wheel, steering their gradual descent. “Now, I think they’ll like to see you two first, so they don’t think we’re shooting them, no? No need to waste bullets!” Yet again he laughed, as if his boundless energy had no other outlet. “Get on the prow, so you’ll be the first things they see! Then you let them know it was me. Might not see you again, but good for you all to know it was Captain Shurrum that made your job easy today, and easier tomorrow, whenever you come again!”

The two spared each other furtive, baffled glances, before turning around to peer over the railing, with Qarretzu holding their rifle in front to make their silhouette easier to spot. The wagon was closer still, they could see the lights moving already… and slowing down. Even at its size, a ship as unsubtle as the Midnight Alight was hard to miss… Chitwy leapt on the railing, clinging with her claws, and waved with one wing holding her bow, just to make sure they knew they weren’t about to get shot. And narrowing their eyes, Qarretzu already saw the cowled, spindly figure of their boss coming out of the vessel, claws in the air, before lowering them…

Yet before either of them could call out, and put this odd workday to an end, the captain made a question, a very casual question, that sent it right into a tailspin: “But before I forget it, one question! There’s been this fire, ah… fire-channeler, yes! Also Ifchi, black body with white tail, and very red branches! She’s made a name, already, even back in the city! You know her?”

Qarretzu was very, very glad Shurrum couldn’t see their jaw drop. They looked at Chitwy out the corner of their eye, and found her with her beak clasped, almost grinding, and her wings’ spurs flared in alarm. Their eyes met… This was a terrible moment to find out Usherrimi was somehow famous in his circles.

The Cheli bolted into the air and practically divebombed the wagon, landing loudly enough on it the Troxi could hear her nails scratching iron. That left distraction duty (again) to them… so they slowly turned around, resetting their jaw, and tilted their head in the most confused-seeming manner they could. “F-fire-channeler, c-captain?”, they asked, not even trying to hold in their stutter, “You mean… p-pyromancer? Isn’t that… i-it sounds rare, I didn’t think it happened…!” What else to say, something that would take his attention, feign even more ignorance, perhaps? Ignorance that’d draw him to answer, even! “I-it even seems so… contrary! S-so often they twist water, b-but fire, t-that’s the absolute opposite…!” It even seemed to be working, ever so slightly marring the captain’s smile before it twisted back together, getting him to lean from behind the wheel…

Only for them to notice he wasn’t looking at them.

They followed his gaze, and realized, far too late, that with Chitwy heading down there and Qarretzu handling the captain, there was no one left to distract the first mate, who could spot red gills and a white tail in hiding even through the spores, and through the window of a lightless wagon. Could, and more importantly, had, leaning right over the railing to point directly at her while his tailtip waggled in the air.

Captain Shurrum’s eyes went wide, and he returned to the wheel to give its lever a harsh yank that nearly toppled everyone on board, including Qarretzu, as the vessel practically threw itself downwards only to brake at the last moment to land smoothly – more or less – on the spore-strewn grown beneath. Right after that, he rushed out, outright leaping overboard to get to the ground faster, and the Troxi could swear they heard a whooshing sound as he presumably landed… a whooshing sound that very much wasn’t there as they ran for the guardrail and immediately pivoted over it to crawl down the hull to follow him. They couldn’t stop him by now, but might as well be with their boss for this.

Off they went, yet already this captain was far ahead, right at the wagon, having crossed the distance far faster than their thin, slimy legs should’ve allowed in a place like this one. They could barely focus on his figure as they rushed across the spores, but they were very sure they saw it bowing before the wagon and its gathered group, much as he had earlier for the two. But with their heart pounding in their ears from the rush and the shock, they couldn’t pick up on his actual words until they’d finally arrived behind him, getting to see Chitwy digging her claws into the spores with one hand on her bow, Ziv-Ziri with her clawed hands clasped together and wings flicking within her cloak as she bore her usual smile, and Usherrimi, the very target of this all… emerging from the carriage, looking merely annoyed, as if she’d been woken from a nap.

“First time I have someone chasing me all the way from Ishiss, this better be good”, she said, the irritation clear in her voice as she combed through her gills with her own fingertips. Then, tilting her glasses, she noticed the skink’s approach, and immediately turned to them. “Alright, that’s everyone. Qarretzu, if you could please tell me who this one is? All Chitwy had were insults.”

Something about the way she asked them made the captain have another full-body freeze, like the one they’d already seen when he called them a lady. Right when he was almost done bowing, too, stopping him in place; they’d swear his eye would’ve twitched if they could see it right. Or if it had lids to begin with.

“W-well… we were d-distracting the Canyonking”, they began, pausing to see if she registered what that meant. When her gaze did not change, they clarified: “M-massive airship, m-much bigger than that one, would’ve… b-blown you up. B-but we were d-distracting, a-and he showed up in t-that, a-and shot it down… said he’s been d-doing that for some time. T-then he offered a ride, a q-quick trip, and we just… wanted to get out fast, s-so we came right here. B-but… t-then he asked for you. T-that’s all I have, miss…!”

But it was Ziv-Ziri that answered, practically springing out of the driver’s seat and onto the spores to run towards Qarretzu and practically lift them off the ground. “Canyonking? Aren’t those actual cruisers up there!? With cannons you could stuff Vel in!? And you were shooting at THAT!? We don’t have anything for that, for nothing even close to that, were you just gonna plink at the windows until we left!?”

Qarretzu tried, and failed, to say something, as their stutter consumed the first few words – Chitwy filled in instead: “Boss, it was either that or letting that thing find you, decide ‘eh whatever we can spare one shell’ and blowing you UP! And besides, we got a few of ‘em! I know I got one right before everything back there started! And I know you had to hear Squib’s gunshots, got actual aim with that thing! Better than any moron I saw using one of those things.” Said ‘thing’ being the Troxi’s rifle, which she pointed at just a little dismissively.

“And then”, the captain cut in, in what would’ve been a polite tone if it hadn’t been both loud and sudden, “before anything could start going wrong, I arrived!” His smile was almost a little too wide at first, practically stretched, before he settled it once heads had turned. “Jumping on the distraction the two made, the Midnight Alight made her entrance, flying across the cavern like a shooting star!” Ignoring the several tilted heads at this simile, he continued, spreading his hands towards the ceiling. “With sharp eyes on the deck and good hands on the wheel, we were there, and the Canyonking had shown its big, soft side to us all. It was then or never, we could see it, because it brought every gun, every last gun!”

“T-they were all mounted b-below, n-none of them could point up,” Qarretzu interjected. I felt like an important detail.

The captain’s expression didn’t change, but he inhaled sharply before continuing. “Oh, but that’s what you think, my friend, there are ways to tilt a ship, even a ship that big, to get them pointing up. I’ve done it before with her, and I know I will do it again, even if she grew! But that one did not get the chance. Before it could start, before the crew inside could get out and shoot back, the Midnight Alight struck! Blasting precisely where the ammo could be reached, where it would kill the guns, where no amount of armor could stop it! And then another shot, just as precise, into the gas, right where the plates could do nothing! In the shot went, a perfect strike within!”

“H-he has a f-flame cannon on board, h-he used that for both shots…” That also felt like an important detail.
“A flame cannon”, Usherrimi repeated, apparently agreeing with them. “Ten inches of steel couldn’t stop that, the real trick would be in getting that thing bought and mounted there to begin with”, she added, pointing at the Midnight Alight’s prow.

Captain Shurrum’s smile strained, just a little. “Oh, but precision matters, lady, it matters very much even there! You have to know what lies behind the armor, and then hit it still!” Taking half a second to relax, he picked up again. “Anyhow, we struck well and hard! And from that moment, it was a matter of finishing. Gun and arrow softened those that came outside to look and aim, while cannons ablaze poured in to kill the very ship itself! Around it we went, fast as our winds could take us, letting out all we had, lighting it up until it could have no more! Always above its cannons so that it would not take revenge – I could see in their eyes, they would’ve done it! But they did not get to do it. We all made sure of it. After that, only a matter of courtesy to bring the two that helped before you.”

“Only because your guy actually SAW us somehow up there, we would’ve gotten here our damn selves just fine.” Chitwy seemed to consider that an important detail, or at least frustrating enough to squawk it out.

This time, there was no real stumble or stutter. The captain just stared at her, for several seconds, with a strained, frustrated and utterly unhappy smile. The sort of smile Qarretzu’d only seen once, on a newly-minted sergeant who just realized, three explanations in with zero progress, the kind of squad he got. Then he just stared at the ground for a little longer, giving them the impression he’d be screwing his eyes tightly shut if he could…

“Moving on, then”, Usherrimi interjected almost mercifully, “what’s this all have to do with me?”

She had to regret it, from the bewildered look on her face as the captain was immediately inches away from it, with his usual dashing smile back on. “Everything to do with you, because if they are with you, then it all makes sense, their skill suddenly makes sense!” As he spoke, he went back to pacing, with his usual wide gestures, before the other Ifchi could light up in annoyance – though Qarretzu still expected that soon. “But you are the one making a big name in Ishiss! Whispers about the one burning soldiers in every country, leaving just ashes. About the big family heir that got pushed too far on what she thought, set an entire University ablaze, and walked away!”

Throughout it all, Usherrimi’s face was an active battleground, somewhere between thrilled, horrified and simply baffled. Lost for words at accusations spoken like actual praise, from this airship pirate (corsair maybe?) that’d just fallen out of thin air as far as she knew… If she had any words for this, they weren’t coming out.

But the one that did have words that’d flow was Ziv-Ziri, who immediately popped up behind her shoulder as she emerged from the wagon, and cut in. “Uh, sorry to undermine this whole thing, and sorry to undermine ya Sherry, but these whispers sound pretty exaggerated.” She spoke casually, a marked contrast with the captain’s bombastic words, turning repeatedly between him and Sherry. “I know she’s not ‘burned a soldier in every nation’ ‘cause I was there, and we didn’t have to. Though were ya hiding the ‘whole university’ thing from me? Not gonna be mad if ya did, I still get it either way, but it doesn’t sound like ya did?”

“Because it is exaggerated, Ziv.” Sherry’s voice was even, low, and utterly unimpressed. “That kind of rumor’s just undercutting me, making it sound like I’ve lost my damned mind, slinging flames before I even open my mouth. As to the university thing,” she paused, turned towards the captain to directly point at him and added “which is none of your business,” then went back to the Vezarym to finish her thoughts with “no, it was barely even one room. I knew exactly who had to burn, and acted accordingly.”

After a frozen millisecond on Shurrum’s part, he sprang back to life with his smile renewed. “But you did burn! You survived that and more, and if you wanted to leave just ashes, you could have! Less furious and less happy to burn, but just as impressive as I hear, I bet! Ah, rumors always give a crooked picture, and I must say…” He let that linger, and slipped just a little into the pyromancer’s personal space, drawing an indignant look he ignored. “The real picture is far, far better~!”

The wink that followed lit a flame in each and every one of Sherry’s gills, and had her fingers stretched outwards. Qarretzu knew what that meant…

But so did Ziv-Ziri, who quickly wrapped herself around the fiery Ifchi with a slightly smug smile… and a small whisper that Qarretzu couldn’t hear; all they could see were her lips moving, right behind the olm’s gills where the captain couldn’t see them. Then, as Usherrimi’s eyes twitched, and she herself blushed, the bat offered a far bigger grin before speaking in a lilting, smug tone. “I know, right? Way better than any rumors, than any hearsay! Though I gotta wonder about mine though, what they mention. The daring escapes, the little heists, maybe the fact I’m with her, so that she’s not open for business in any sense of the word?” She almost hissed those three words out, then went back to her smile, punctuating it all by turning Sherry’s snout and kissing her right on the front, briefly but with just a bit of tongue for him to see. “Then again in this business, not having a name’s pretty helpful, maybe the less everyone knows the better, hee~!”, she finished, turning that smile into an outright grin, smug and with a little menace.

That outright paralyzed the captain, leaving that dumb smile frozen on his face with wide eyes as he just stared at the bat. Almost cathartic to watch… for a moment, before something in his mind finally leapt a hurdle, and his eyes lingered further on said bat, up and down, then at the pair as a whole… and that smile regained its life, with some slyness to boot. And then came his reply, looking straight back at Usherrimi once more, with not a single inkling of a comeback in his tone: “Hah, hahah, very good taste, too, fantastic!”

Then he just spun on his boot’s heel, striding with hands behind his back like he hadn’t just left a trail of dropped jaws and eyes both shocked and vexed right behind him; the skink could swear they heard the words ‘I thought that would work’ whispered indistinctly, before the captain’s voice drowned it out. “But there is one problem. I have sources in the city, and they say that family is looking for you. They want you back! And they are moving lots of money for it! You can’t stay out of their eyes forever, they’ll know more than I know. And they’ll have someone chasing you once they do. And there goes everything!”

The pyromancer got a dark look on her face. Outrage and fury, with just the slightest hint of fear, all tempered with a growing, menacing calm as she outstretched her fingers once more. “They hardly know me. No matter how much they think they do. They won’t find me, and none of their trackers that do will ever go back to Ishiss.” Qarretzu’d seen what she’d done to their hunter and warden back in the Hills, they knew she meant that.

“But they will”, Shurrum just repeated, his smile flattening to something almost dour, before perking up again and adding “but it won’t matter!” Now, he turned to the side, hands still behind his back as he looked at Sherry with one eye with one finger raised in her direction. “It doesn’t matter if they know where you are when they can’t reach you or catch you! And on the Midnight Alight, they can do neither! The only ship fast enough to keep away from them all, until they tire… no matter how long it takes!” He made one sweeping motion towards it – his own tail swishing across the spores at the same time – as his grin grew wider still, now showing actual little fangs. “And she is in need of one like you, I am in need of one like you! One fiery one, ablaze! With gills of ruby and blood of blue! A perfect match, perfect story!”

He left but a moment to let them ponder what he said (Blood of blue…?), before practically lunging, ending up right in front of Sherry once more and making her flinch as he just smiled in her face. “Here, they will never get you. Here… we shall all make names across the caves, to be feared and admired. We will soar! Down here in the mud and spores, you will not last. They will find you. But up in the air? Glory waits~”

And he bowed, yet again motioning towards the vessel… and letting a long, long silence linger as everyone else was left to process this speech of his. And as said silence stretched on, one had to wonder even he had to catch on that it wasn’t in his favor. The faces that surrounded him were all baffled, some affronted, some simply unsettled. Qarretzu’s was twisted by second-hand embarrassment, they knew that much. But Usherrimi herself looked… neutral. Steely even. Her gills were almost sagging, and the only indication she was even tensed up were her outstretched fingers…

“…I won’t last, you’re saying. They’ll find me, then? Suppose that’s true. Suppose all I can do is delay them, if I were to stay down here… They will reach me, and they might catch me.” She uttered that, yet her voice didn’t sound defeated. Quite the opposite. “But even then it won’t matter. Because if they get their hands on me, anywhere close, even if I was alone, they would be ashes.” Her tone was lighting up as much as her gills, which now bore a tiny flame at each tip, as she glared back at the captain. “Maybe then I’ll be burning someone in every nation, like you heard. Maybe then they’ll get it. If it comes to that, it’ll be on my own terms, with those I chose.”

And as if to drive the point home, her tail raised in the air and nudged the bat forwards, where one of her arms could wrap around her waist and pull her in. But there, the skink could see five more flames that the captain couldn’t, one on each fingertip…

Yet the captain didn’t seem bothered by this rejection at all. His eyes seemed brighter still, from a quick glance as he got up and approached the bat and the olm once more. “Hah! Hahah! That’s what I look for! That’s the spirit we could use! That’s the attitude I need! How could Midnight Alight even dream to bring light to this dark without you in her? No, she needs one with powerful waves, one with real light in them! A sun cannot swim in the mud, a sun should swim through skies!”

Said “sun” interrupted him, raising her voice over his next words. “There is no sky here, you tadpole of a captain-”

Then the captain practically barged into her personal space, his smile strained to the point of failure, as the strange insult – was that more biting in Ifchi? – seemingly landed true. “IT’S CLOSE ENOUGH”, he outright yelled, before his tone evened out, and his expression relaxed, walking back but never turning his back on her. “It’s like the night, darker than any night, and it needs light of its own, it needs a sunrise! And so it needs a sun, a proper sun and not just steel and magic! So I am giving you an invitation you will never get, and you will never find here: To join us, to join me, and be that sun yourself~!” Yet again he bowed, so low he could huff the spores beneath everyone, and motioned towards his own ship with both hands, seemingly in the most dramatic gesture he could manage.

But this time, he glanced up from under his hat until he could look Usherrimi in the eye. From their angle, however, Qarretzu saw that smile drop to a dour, affronted and perhaps slightly depressed frown, as he tacked on one last addendum. “It’s that or stomping in the mud. Chased by family forever as they keep finding you. No ship, just a rusty cart and these dull crawlers, who just know more mud.” He even waved dismissively at them all, carefully avoiding Ziv but very much including the skink themselves.

The looks on the crew… varied. The only reason Chitwy hadn’t shrieked something was Ziv’s hand holding her beak fast, while the bat herself looked perplexed… no, disgusted, that looked too disdainful to be mere confusion. And they couldn’t help but agree with that, by now. This captain… whatever he was even trying to do, whether some twisted flirt, some recruitment attempt, or a threat, if not all three at once, it was so far from right they could hardly call it a fumble, it had started as a mistake and went down from there! It was only clear, from looking at Usherrimi herself, who-

...seemed to be smiling, as what little light was in these caverns caught in her glasses and blocked her eyes from others’ sight. A tiny smile, a dark smile, you’d have to be a fool to think there was any mirth in there, except perhaps…

“A sun, you said. I think I like that, actually. But there’s one caveat to that.” Watching the captain stand up quickly, she strode over to him, calmly, slowly, her movements a little too fluid, as she made her way to right in front of him and his hopeful expression. “Now we miss suns, now we know what a blazing star in the sky was needed for, why its absence can kill a world.” She even reached out to perk up his chin, make sure he looked her in the eye – that brief moment of contact making his eyes gleam with expectation – all before she stepped back, her hands behind her back. “But the thing you forget, city boy, you fountain tadpole, the thing about suns, is that back then, and even now, once you’re before them, if you ever get too close, too careless...”

“...they burn.”

Usherrimi brought her hands forwards, and a tidal wave of flame and heat erupted from them as she clapped right in front of them. Like a towering, utterly vertical flame of fire that was sent forth, setting the spores beneath them ablaze where nothing else had, crashing into captain Shurrum and engulfing him entirely until not even his shadow could be seen. The remnants alone kept going as eyes followed them, catching several crewmembers and starting a fire on the hull, dangerously close to the cannon. All Qarretzu could think at first, witnessing this, was that it seemed even bigger than last time.

It took a moment of thought as Sherry then turned around and shoved everyone back towards the wagon, urging them all to leave quickly, a moment to take in the expressions of the others – had Chitwy never seen this before, with how startled she looked? And did Ziv enjoy seeing that, with that smile of hers? – and a moment to get on board to look back at this newly-spawned memory and realize the flames may have bulged as they traveled, right around where the target would be.

The skink looked back, leaning out one window of the wagon as it turned to flee, on a nervous whim.

The captain was there. Arms outstretched, fingertips singed to the knuckle, gills trimmed by the flames, and with his hat still ablaze, right above an utterly bewildered expression… and a startled, get strangely genuine smile.

And before they could alert the others, they witnessed him raise his own hands, and thrust them downwards at the spores, scattering the burnt, the burning and the intact alike as he was propelled backwards and upwards into the air, launching himself up as if he’d pushed right off the very air with that motion. As if he could… turn the wind just the same way Usherrimi could turn fire and flame. Another motion, and he sent himself backwards, landing right besides his own steering wheel, his expression steeling and his grin brimming with more little fangs than ever.

Now they choked out a warning, as best they could. “H-he’s alive, a-and he’s b-boarding again, miss Ziv-Ziri…! H-he’s g-got wind! He has wind in his…”
“Ah, fuck, it would’ve been too simple for that idiot to just die, wouldn’t it. He’s good at it, if he could turn that blast.” Usherrimi didn’t even give him the dignity of turning back to look.
“I think I speak for everyone here”, Ziv-Ziri said as she took the wheel and lit the engine, “when I ask: what the hell was up with that guy!?”
Chitwy grabbed the seats and barged her head into the front of the cabin just to shriek her answer: “I’ve been asking that from the moment I SAW the guy!” Though before she could continue, Qarretzu pulled her back so she wouldn’t distract the driver.

Sherry sighed, one pitch-black hand sliding over her face in aggravation. Her tone was more aggravated still. “My guess? This should be some… idiot princeling. Some scion of a big-name family that roped himself into a scheme. His accent, the way he talks, you can tell he barely knows Common, some Magus families do that on purpose thinking it’s beneath them.” She slid her glasses back into place, glancing into the rearview mirror – as Qarretzu turned back fully to see the ship starting to rise into the air, while the crew worked to put out the fires. “But he still turned my blast. He’s an idiot, but he’s either well-taught or talented. I’m betting on talented.”

As the skink turned around, they gulped, and tried as best they could to give their addendum. “W-what about p-piloting, do they t-teach that…? He’s g-good at that too, reckless, b-but good…” After the olm turned her head to glance at them, they gathered their wits to elaborate. “H-he almost t-threw his crew overboard from how fast he turned, b-but… he never g-got shot at or hit. Got that ship with both b-broadsides in a minute. Didn’t so much as brush a stalactite… a-and on a ship that fast, with a f-flame cannon and everything else, if he’s g-going to f-fly it low, e-even in… h-he might…”

They gulped again. With a terrible feeling, Qarretzu turned around, gazing through the back window to check on the sloop, just in case…

“...h-he- he’s- HE’S- HE’S AFTER US!”

And everyone was shoved back into their seats as Ziv’s wagon sped up, its engine belching a black plume as it roared to full throttle. “Already!? Guy left the engine running that’s for sure!” Nervous, but not panicking, the Vezarym thrust her ears forwards and narrowed her eyes, her claws firm on the wheel. Her smile thinned out to nothing, but her tone remained cheery, if steelier now. “It’s gonna be a rough path to lose this guy, but I know the route for it. Gonna be like driving into a crag monitor’s mouth but can’t think of a better place to lose an airship. If he shoots, I’ll be dodging, so hold fast!”

Qarretzu could only obey, digging their claws into their seat and slipping their tail under the one in front, turning around to keep an eye on the vessel trying to approach. They briefly grabbed their rifle, wondering if it’d be necessary, if only to go out fighting. Or maybe provide a different kind of distraction. This was a bad position, but the target was getting far closer. But that’s if they had a chance to set up, before they got turned into nothing but a smoking crater on this impacted, spore-strewn road.

Said chance wasn’t looking good, as they saw that a tiny, yet blinding fireball had just left the prow.

“FIRE! OPENED FIRE!”, they screamed, unable to look away – thankfully, as they noticed it was arcing far more than it should to hit them straight on, even leading the shot. “Ahead of us! H-he’s f-firing on t-the road…!” That’s what it looked like at least.

Ziv-Ziri lowered herself, humming louder and squinting at the road. Almost gritting her fangs, before relaxing enough to smirk. “Bet he’s trying to box us in. Thinks I won’t drive through a pit of flame – and I won’t! Sherry, if you please~!” At her word, Usherrimi quickly pulled the window down, leaning her head out and making sure one of her gills was exposed to the air outside. The bat then snapped her claws and pointed back at the Troxi, with a question on her tongue “How far ahead?”

Another look at the fireball before it disappeared above the wagon’s roof, then turning their head to look ahead at the road before them, curving around a hill of spores… They pointed right at the start of said curve as best they could, and barked out “Right where that s-starts!” just to be sure.

Now to hope they were right, as the bat hardly reacted other than getting all the speed she could… before swerving so hard Qarretzu almost flew into the still-closed window (where Chitwy did crash). They saw the flame cannon’s shot crash into the start of the curve, which had been right ahead just a moment ago before Ziv-Ziri swerved into the spores instead, thoroughly clouding the air with them as a wave of flames washed over towards the wagon-

Before shutting down completely, barely able to get past the spores they’d risen as Usherrimi reached through the window, concentrating. Could Ifchi shut down what they usually wielded, just like that? It was either that or the spores being too wet to light, which made little sense. Yet there they were, missing the fires by mere inches as the wagon went right over the incline, so inclined it almost tipped right into the expanding blaze. Then, another swerve towards the road proper, and they rushed right ahead of the wave of flames, picking up speed once more as the wagon found (relatively) solid ground.

All Ziv had to say to that was “Right you were, Rezu!”, with a big grin she actually turned to flash before focusing on the road again. Maybe that crash course in mortars back in the Legion hadn’t been a waste of time after all.

The pursuit was on, but they’d made it through the first salvo. And if they all shot ahead rather than directly, they might just want them alive after all – or maybe just Sherry. Lucky either way, unless they got caught. Up to them to keep an eye on what this ship was doing as it pursued them, advancing on them with ease. Catching up moment by moment, not firing yet, but shortening the distance. Soon enough, the Midnight Alight was close enough that Qarretzu could actually see Captain Shurrum, complete with big fanged grin, as he gripped the wheel and held the lever tight, lowering the ship inches at a time as it closed in. His gills weren’t even trailing in the wind, they were almost static, perhaps glimmering…

Was he trying to get close enough to blow them off the road, while he still could? It was insane, but he could pull it off, he was mad enough for that, and it’s not like they could fire back-

“Miss Ziv-Ziri, p-permission to break your window?” Better to ask for permission, adages aside she was the boss.
“What- wait no just lower it, pull the lever in the corner! Why?” She hadn’t caught on yet. If this worked it’d be a pleasant surprise.

One pull of the lever, and the back window lowered itself. Not entirely, but it’d do. Gently, quietly, they slid out their rifle through the opening, just enough to get their eye on its sights, before turning their attention to the vessel, and its crew. Quickly, they hovered their sights over the captain as best as they could in this rattling wagon, stuffing as much of their tail under a seat to anchor them better. This rattle was troubling, but manageable, all they had to do was hold steady, wait just a moment for the vessel to come closer. Already they could see the captain’s smile, the glint of his goggles, as he leaned to the side of his steering wheel with one hand raised towards them, rearing back…

But yet again they missed his first mate, who was already in the midst of tackling his own captain as they pulled the trigger.

BLAM

And a miss, unless a clear gash on the underside of the sloop’s liftbag counted as a hit. Sure had to for whatever unfortunate had to patch it up later.

The vessel wavered in place, and quickly fell back as the first mate was the first to get back up and yank the lever back. As they cycled the next bullet into the chamber (five left, was it?), they kept their eye on the retreating Midnight Alight, particularly on the captain they’d almost taken out and the first mate that prevented that. The latter was pulling the former up, and from the increasingly-blurry motions they could see, he wasn’t happy with his boss over that little stunt, berating him almost like one would a child. But the captain was on his feet, and… smiled it off, that was surprisingly hard to miss at this distance – before the sloop pulled up, hiding the two from view behind the deck.

They sighed, and cracked their neck while they waited for the next chance. That’d teach them to get close at least, better to keep them further away. And they’d bought the group time to reach the stalactites ahead – as Qarretzu found out when a violent swerve right behind the very first of them almost threw them into a window. The thing was barely a nub surging through the spores, but cover was cover, even just to throw their aim off before their boss surged the wagon down the road towards the rest.

“Alright”, Ziv-Ziri said from the cabin, glancing backwards for just a moment, “we should be closer to the clear now! These only get thicker and taller from here on out! Don’t think he’s that dedicated, even if he’s that good, right? Which is good ‘cause this isn’t a place to drive that fast. Keep an eye, warn me if he shoots anything outta spite or something!” Another swerve, and her driving stabilized, sticking to the road as it curved around the stalagmites – each a little taller than the last. It wasn’t a straightforward drive, but it had cover, at least…

Yet as the skink sighed and looked forwards, taking their eyes off the vessel, it was Chitwy who took the chance to look back at their pursuer, and deliver the bad news: “Boss, they ain’t slowing down. Like at ALL.”

A surge of speed almost sent Qarretzu face-first into the back seat before they’d finished turning around to confirm. But from a quick glance, the Midnight Alight had stopped falling back, and was again leaning forwards as it gained speed. How it intended to catch up with them, in this smaller wagon that could stick to the actual road, they didn’t know, yet there it was. And true to form, rather than just turn a little and let the stalagmite pass at its side, it damn near crashed into it before violently swerving around it, for no reason they could think of other than show off!

…and expose the broadside, for just a second.

“…B-B-BRACE”, they cried out, before the rattle of the sloop’s cannons drowned their words out momentarily. Multiple streaks of light and sparks shot from the vessel, crossing the spore-laden air above them at a high angle, an ample miss. But when they looked forwards, they saw the actual target: One of the stalactites ahead. All they could do was barge into the cabin to point at it, making sure Ziv-Ziri caught it…

…and she looked down under that stalactite, then back up. Then the engine roared, spewing smoke into the air as the whole wagon accelerated so violently the skink was thrown back into their seat again. “Still trying to wall us off, sneaky! Bet he thinks he’s the only one who knows their way around a wheel!” She sounded outright chipper. As everyone hurtled down the narrow road, a glance at the bat let them see a grin – a big, fanged, gleaming grin – as she gripped her own steering wheel tight, and her tone dropped to an outright growl heard even over the roar of crumbling stone: “And he’s dead wrong.”

She didn’t slow for the curve right ahead of them. She just turned anyways, the wheels skating over stone and spore alike as momentum alone carried them forwards – all their spinning did was keep them on the curve. Another swerve, and they were all back on the road, the wheels finding enough purchase to practically shoot them forwards into the path ahead…

A thunderous, crumbling impact deafened them all momentarily, and a rush of wind shot into the wagon from the back window, as the stalactite finally hit the ground behind them.

“Easy~!”, Ziv said, her voice lilting as if they hadn’t just outraced death. “But just to make sure I don’t have to keep doing that, never know when I’ll get it wrong… Chi, Rezu, could you both see if you can put a hole in that guy?”
“So long as you don’t leave me behind, boss! How’s the road ahead look!?” For the first time in a while Qarretzu had forgotten the swallow was even there, which was usually unthinkable.
“Curvier than a Toskar matron, as a friend used to say!”, Ziv answered, giggling, which got her an odd look from Sherry that stopped the giggling in its tracks. “Okay, better said: It’s gonna be twisty. Also downwards.”
“Works for me, right on it boss!” That was all Chitwy even said before pulling down the window and throwing herself off the wagon into the dark…
Nothing left for the Troxi to do but lock in place in this rattling wagon, get their eye on the sights and start looking for a shot. “...I’ll cover her, m-miss Ziv-Ziri, I’ll t-try to hit him this time…”

Time for a joint operation, then. From their sights, they could already see the airship turn just enough to straighten its path towards the wagon, closing in once more. Eyes on the prize, as the captain came into view… before stone blocked their sight once more. Another stalactite. Pulling back, they saw another narrow dodge to match it, sweeping right behind the hanging pillar. No hitting the captain on this one.

...but if another broadside was coming, Qarretzu thought, maybe they could do something there instead. The Midnight Alight had yet again presented its side, and its assorted cannons were pointed right ahead, angled from the rest of the ship. Their barrels glowed already, laying exactly where they were as they charged up the next salvo. And as the road smoothed out, just for a moment, they aimed for one glowing, sparking muzzle…

BLAM

Streaks of light shot through the air once more, aiming for another chunk of stone to drop on their way – but there was one less this time. Their sight lingered just long enough on the cannons to see one was sparking and smoking from its back; almost a shame they were gonna miss the look on that gunner’s face. Might make them hesitate a little next time.

Nevertheless, they turned around to track the shots that did fire and point right at the stalactite they’d hit, bracing themselves for a burst of speed – which came right on time, as the wagon’s wheels skated on a mass of spores at the edge of the next curve, the wheels practically launching the spores off the road as they kept everyone on track. Yet another tilt, and they all hurtled forwards into the next curve – where Ziv repeated the process almost flawlessly, whirring the engine until it practically screamed… so that when the wheels caught firmly on the path once more, they’d all be thrown right past the shadow of the collapsing stalactite.

A closer call than last time, but still made it with seconds to spare, much as they were fairly sure they heard pebbles bouncing off the roof.

“Got too close again”, they muttered to themselves with the faintest smirk, getting the next bullet in the chamber with a pull of the lever. “Maybe… m-maybe he’ll show his face this time”, they said a little louder, now scanning over the scene with one eye on their ironsights. Nothing seemed to be on fire on what little of the deck they could see, but that was asking for too much, perhaps. It was enough of a distraction, at least, that the Midnight Alight didn’t swerve to show that side once it passed the next formation, simply avoiding it as a sane captain should…

…and drifting slowly and continuously in that same direction, until it practically brushed a large pillar of stone on one side. There, the thing turned twice as violently as before, and ended up practically perpendicular to the road underneath it, and the road they themselves traversed. Leaving every last cannon on that side pointed right above them, starting to glow as the next salvo was readied…

But the skink’s gaze kept going to focus on the blue-and-red streak that swept dangerously close to the firing line before diving beneath the hull. A flick of the Troxi’s gaze, and they saw those manning the cannons drawing armaments, distracted from their duty. One of them, a white olm with red gills and a redder overcoat, even peered over the edge to try and keep track of her…

Big mistake.

BLAM

Was it a bullseye, or a ricochet off the hull? With this vehicle’s rattling jiggling their aim, they’d never completely know, but it mattered little: It was enough to make said Ifchi lose their footing on the deck, and immediately fall over the edge of the vessel to the ground below… Would they live? Hard to know, but it was one gunner out of their business.

The other gunners, however, would be a problem. As they pulled the lever, they saw a roil of activity behind the firing line, what looked like raised limbs shaken in their direction, before all suddenly scrambled behind each cannon once more.

And then, the salvo… far from a neat array of destruction streaking above them, this was a chaotic mess of sparks and light shooting either vaguely above them, or almost directly at their wagon – where it should’ve been, at least. “I p-pissed them off m-miss Ziv-Ziri, t-they shot everywhere!” was all Qarretzu could offer to that, before listlessly hiding behind the seat, as if it’d help…

Before a slimy hand hot enough to almost steam yanked them right back up. They found a pair of lidless violet eyes staring into theirs, before their head was almost shoved against the absent back window. “Find the pointless ones, ignore, then focus. You don’t get to panic, you’re our best pair of eyes”, Usherrimi said, her tone curt yet encouraging.

All they could do was nod, and get back to it. A second glance – they were too close for much reaction, but this meant the clear misses were clear. All that left were the ones overshooting, that ideally wouldn’t scatter much stone, and the one that was heading directly-

“TURN LEFT M-MISS ZIV-”

The whiplash got them before they could finish, though they at least didn’t hit the window (or the olm) this time. They raised their head just in time to see Sherry backlit by a wash of blue light streaming through the window behind her, as her lidless eyes went just a little wider. Whatever comment she had as she opened her mouth was drowned out by the crack of thunder, real or metaphorical, that came from the shot they’d narrowly dodged. By the time she’d actually turned to look at the impact zone, enough of their hearing had come back to hear the pebbles raining down from the other shots that had missed them more widely, or failed to bring down one of the bigger stalactites above.

With that moment over, Qarretzu peered at the Midnight Alight once more, watching it swerve back into place, parallel to them and slowly gaining once more. Then, it was oddly still. At a glance… they couldn’t quite see the captain, but they sure saw a dot, some distant object, get flung over from the prow where Shurrum ought to be towards the still-cooling cannons… before diving suddenly right behind them, as if the very winds had sent it down. “Captain’s mad”, they muttered to Sherry, before holding their breath to aim properly, and get a better view of the action…

Said action yet again involved a flash of blue and red right over the deck, and a far smaller streak lunging from it towards the front of the vessel – before swerving wildly to the side, enough to miss the ship entirely. Chitwy must’ve shot at the captain, who saw her coming and simply swung the winds in his favor. And she must’ve realized this, because she was trying to dive away from the front as fast as possible, from the looks of it, but had the very air under her wings turned against her until she damn near bounced off the liftbag.

The vessel turned, to either swerve the other way or just stay in pursuit after that failure of a broadside. It tilted just enough in the process to start seeing the captain once more, along with his first mate, seemingly focusing on driving once more and not looking their way. And – as they checked through their sights on a quick hunch – just enough to see the crew that delivered said broadside were quickly rushing to crowd under the Cheli. And was that a gun one of them raised-

No can do.

BLAM.

A simple snapshot, barely even aimed beyond making sure it’d hit the mass. But right on time, there was movement, enough that the pistol they could see was immediately lowered, if not dropped. They all scattered, diving out of sight under what should be their posts, as Chitwy took the distraction and zoomed away in moments, taking a far safer distance. Crisis averted, then…!

But the vessel was still coming for them, finishing its turn and coming straight for them. Lower and lower it went as the ceiling closed in; Qarretzu turned their head towards the road ahead of them all, and the ceiling only closed in further on the twists and turns to come, with many of the stalactites merging with their counterparts below. Yet the Midnight Alight kept coming, and wasn’t even slowing down as it found its narrow way through the incoming thicket of solid rock.

It rose in the air suddenly, nearly scraping its gasbag on the moss above, its prow alight with red, then orange, then a pure white… before a single tiny bead of blinding light shot across the air, trailing a mass of roiling fire. The flame cannon again, aimed high… way high, not even coming close to them or their route as it crashed into one of the natural columns far ahead, right under the ceiling. Leaning out the window, they could see the moss catch ablaze, and heard the stone crack under the shift of temperature, softening just enough for the whole mass below to shift. Not enough to measure, but definitely enough to form a faint cloud of dust all around it, shaken off its mossy cover…

“What is he doing?”, the skink mused out loud, as they turned their sights back to the sloop to find a chance to end this chase. As they’d expected, rather than simply steer between the stones, the captain yet again swerved it wildly once past one of the stalagmites, this time just enough to pass right between two more. A narrow, entirely unnecessary maneuver, yet one that thoroughly threw off their aim as they passed right behind the pillar, making them lose track of Shurrum himself for a few precious moments. Was that the intention, or was he just showing off? It could go either way; the fact they could only guess was strangely irritating…

Another barrage came from its side right as it emerged, its munitions pointed far lower than the last shot. They noted three things: It seemed smaller than before, its sparks illuminated Chitwy’s form flitting right above the gunners, and the shots seemed to fly in the same direction as the flames just had, despite being lower-

...he was gonna drop the whole pillar on the road, wasn’t he. Softened it above, and now aimed to cut it down like a stalk.

Qarretzu barged into the cabin and pointed right at it, motioning almost desperately even if it meant missing the chance for a shot. “T-that’s gonna d-drop, r-right on the road…!”
But Ziv-Ziri was smiling again, and gently nudged their snout back out of her territory with one finger. “Warned, thank ya! Now you take care to shoot his eye out if you can find it and I will take care of this~!”

They had little time to process her intense grip on the wheel or the sheer size of that grin before the roar of the engine drowned out all sound, and they were further smooshed into the seat by sudden acceleration. Scrambling back to their sniping position, they did not dare look where they were going, not just now, and tried to distract themselves with the next shot. Even as the shifts in inertia tried to throw off their aim in every direction, and the ground underneath the wagon got bumpier and… muddier, they hoped, they did not look behind them.

Instead, they focused on the Midnight Alight, looking it over as it counter-swerved to avoid crashing into one of the jutting walls of this narrowing passage. A turn so narrow it made them wonder how anyone up there (besides the gunner they shot) managed to stay on that deck. No one opened fire this time, but it brought the sloop far closer, and lower as well; it was practically scraping against the surrounding rock with each movement, yet its pilot was undeterred. Even Chitwy was forced to start dodging around the columns in this place just to stay aloft! A bigger target, sure, but at this rate, one had to wonder if he was going to crash this thing into them, or try that windy trick from before!

No, they had to focus, and see if there was anything they could shoot to put an end to this. Or even just delay it enough for them to get away, and trust their boss and Chitwy to do their parts. From the way the ground beneath them rattled, and from the outright screeches beneath them of wheels against the dunes (rather than the road), hopefully the former was happening.

So they took aimed, and while the vessel lowered its prow to keep away from the ceiling, it was taking a surprisingly straight shot through the air, no turns to leave them vulnerable or expose anyone. Just the cannons to the sides at this stage, and this was the wrong angle and the wrong moment to get a malfunction out of them. They focused, desperately trying to keep the roar of crumbling stone out of their hearing, and the shifting pillar in the corner of their eye away from mind. There was, at least, a smidge of the Flame Cannon – to be exact, the “boiler” of it, reinforced as could be, but still a target for a rifle of their caliber, if they were lucky enough, but would they-

“If you’re gonna take a shot”, Ziv-Ziri turned to yell, “it better be now ‘cause I’m gonna TURN!”

Damn it, no choice but to roll the dice.

BLAM

Oh, good, an elongated flash of white hot light that would’ve been blinding if this thing had a scope. At least that would buy them some time.

Then, Qarretzu’s train of thought was thoroughly derailed as the momentum of the wagon tossed them into Usherrimi – who’d shielded herself with her white tail knowing this would happen. Clawing for anything that wasn’t more olm or olm clothing, they tried to stabilize and look forwards at whatever they were doing – only to find themselves looking at the ship, again, through the front window.

Glancing between front and back, they tried to paint the picture of what the hell was happening: They weren’t driving backwards, but rather had simply spun the vehicle around so violently inertia was still carrying them in the same direction, and right now the bat was spinning the wheels to counter that momentum. Behind them, a deep incline of spores and a cavern wall, an actual ditch. Ahead of them, the road they left, and a road to follow – meaning they were right in the curve between them-

The wheels caught, and the wagon was launched forwards into the lower path, accelerating just enough to send the skink back into their seat again. Zooming down the road, with a glimpse of the Midnight Alight tilting down and the first mate’s eyes peering over the railing on one end, and a glimpse of mossy stone on the other disappearing behind the roof of the vehicle, lingering just long enough to notice it was moving.

Tentatively, if not fearfully, the skink looked out the back.

And they had to close their eyes and hold on, as a scouring wind full of dust and spores blew into the open wagon until they found the lever to slam the window shut.

They were busy wiping the dust from their eyes, but the deafening sound of stone crashing against stone and its echoes traveling through the cavern, made sure they didn’t need to. The stones that pelted the back of their vehicle, and the wind that scoured its steel and its path, only confirmed it. The great mass of crumbling rock captain Shurrum meant to wall them off with had almost crushed them, and it was only the bat’s maddened driving that both put them so close to death, and let them escape capture.

Then, as their ears stopped ringing, they heard a shrill giggle, practically mad with glee. “Gheehee, a perfect turn, outright flawless~!” It was Ziv-Ziri herself, proud of her own work. Her giggling cut off suddenly, however, and she added “Not sure I can pull it off that well next time though, so, if there’s a way to stop him from doing that again, please give it a shot?” She caught herself giggling again, perhaps she spotted her own pun.

Nevertheless, she was right. Even if all they had was a rifle, even if they only had one last bullet left (if they were counting right, and they sure hoped so, no time to check), that bullet in the right place would put an end to this ordeal. So they made sure it was cycled in, got their eye on the sights, and looked out the back…

Not one moment too late. This U-turn (if it could be called a turn, rather than a controlled spin-out of some kind) had left the Midnight Alight facing the wrong way, aiming towards the cavern wall. And true to form, it had to do a U-turn of its own… they were just in time to witness it. It barely slowed before tilting to the side and yet again swinging about in a turn so tight and narrow Qarretzu still didn’t understand how the crew remained standing. The deck had to stand like the steepest of hills during that twist, weaving the ship through the pillars and the stalactites…

They’d know. So tilted it was that they could see the whole thing, including Captain Shurrum himself twisting the wheel in a blur of hand motions. Just clear enough for one last shot. They’d have to account for every motion: The wagon’s movements, the vessel’s turn, gravity’s own pull at this distance, the meager breeze blowing from their destination, and the First Mate potentially ruining the shot again. Already he seemed to be peering this way, starting to move…

A tiny, elongated blur out the corner of their eye, a movement from the First Mate. and they saw him stumbling down, bleeding, with a long black speck through the base of their tail. An arrow… They’d need to thank Chitwy later.

And just in time, in the midst of it all, the captain turned to look at him! He did not let go of the steering wheel at all, but he was distracted nonetheless, his body stock-still even as his hands steered the vessel, just as it started to turn towards them all in another risky maneuver that’d scrape the cavern stone. Just as the road beneath the wagon smoothed and stilled, if only for a moment.

One bullet. Now or never.

BLAM

Ping…

Time seemed to freeze. They clung as tightly as they could to their post, letting their empty rifle drop on the seat. Was it done? Or where they done…?

Captain Shurrum was still standing. No blood to be seen, no falling motions. Yet he seemed to be struggling, his hands no longer a blur. His steering wheel wasn’t turning at all-

Now a falling motion, as the captain stumbled and fell to the side. Yet he got back up immediately… with the steering wheel still in his hands.

Qarretzu saw no sparks, no whirling from the spot where the captain stood a second ago. But the Midnight Alight slowed its turn, flattened its curve, stabilizing and plowing forward like nothing was wrong, bereft of Shurrum’s direction.

Now sparks flew. The sloop scraped the walls of the cavern, scattering dust and pebbles that hid all crew from view, and snagging its liftbags on the upper side, letting abrasion work away at them until they popped in a burst of flame that briefly lit the cavern. Was the captain trying to brake? It mattered not – the vessel started dropping, little by little, as it blind advance sped up, until they lost sight of it behind a column of natural stone…

Very briefly, as it turned out. A deafening crash and screech, worse than the scrape of the hull against the wall, rattled everyone’s ears, before the bent and cracked prow of the Midnight Alight plowed through the crumbling mass of rock, bereft of all lift, to finally drop out of the air and come aground against the spore-laden road beneath it. A mass of shattered, burning wood and bent metal, and the scorched tatters that remained from the liftbag that once let it sail… all partly buried under rubble of its own making.

It was over. If they had meant to do that it would’ve been absolutely brilliant, far more certain than even what they themselves had intended, but this had been a lucky miss. Joy of joys. At least Qarretzu could live with it – literally, who knows if the others would’ve spared them. One of those questions one was better off never having to answer. And so, they watched the rubble settle on the fallen ship, and let out their held breath as the dust cleared at last…

“Don’t know if that was you, his own idiocy, or both, but I don’t care. Perfect shot there, Qarretzu, thank you”. Usherrimi’s sheer relief was palpable, and they didn’t need to look to see the smile on her face from this angle. “Let that ship be his damn grave, I say.” Then, she turned towards Ziv-Ziri, with a less-than-confident gaze and a slight blush on their face, and began to speak in a far lower voice: “Anyhow, Ziv, about that little moment, back there, erm…”

Yet a distant shift in the rocks behind them all clued the skink in that Sherry’s hopes were misplaced. They saw a single copper-green limb rise, followed by the rest of the olm. “He’s… alive, still. J-just crawled out of the pile, and… ” They trailed off, watching their motions, as the captain seemed to still, stare back, and bring one hand to his snout to… “...d-did he j-just b-blow a kiss at me!?”

Their own olm’s groan of sheer exasperation did not wait, with her gills briefly lighting up in sheer frustration. “Of course. Of course he lived. As unkillable as an idiot would be. Of course he did.” Once her palm had left her face, she turned to Qarretzu to finish her thought. “He came for someone brilliant, and found much more than just one. Got far more than he bargained for. I should’ve guessed he’d like that. That… kiss wasn’t just for you, but he’d know it wasn’t me with that rifle, so… yes, bad news, it was for you too. Enmity’s… a little like that in Ishiss.”

That’s not a thought Qarretzu wanted in their head. They turned to answer, but it was a mess of an answer. “H-he almost d-dies and… l-liked that? H-he’ll know it was me! A-and it’s… n-not just you now b-but me t-too!? I-I’m n-not even-”
As their words came to a hard, sputtered stop, Ziv took over. “And I’m gonna guess me too? He did say you had good taste, and while I’m not gonna deny that it sure sounded like he’s including me on this little… thing of his. I mean he almost died here and he’s still flirting?” She was handling it better than they were…

Before they could put together something close to a reply, they were knocked over onto the seat by a feathered mass, one they had been far too distracted to see coming. They heard the twang of a bowstring before the feathers finally gave them space. It was Chitwy again, with the biggest smile they’d seen on her face so far… odd, how expressive a beak could be.

Yet all she had to say, after leaning in and laying one spurred wing on their shoulder, was “Good hunt, Qarretzu. Even I never brought down something that big.”

The silence stretched, as the skink couldn’t help but wilt a little at the praise, much as they had a smile of their own. Didn’t even have to force it, either. Hers was a nice voice when she wasn’t shrieking, was it…

But that smile came to an end, as they forced themselves to confess. “Brought down the ship, but not the captain. He’s… back there. And miss Usherrimi says he’ll come back for us. All of us this time…” Their next words were blurted, almost spat out, as they shivered slightly, their eyes staring at the floor. “H-he blew a kiss at me… a-at us, b-but I saw it. H-he’ll be back…”

When they looked back up, they flinched, finding a spur inches away from their snout, pointed at them, with Chitwy’s gleeful face right behind it. “Hah! My bad on THAT” she said, “but then again all the best hunts are the ones that keep coming back for MORE! Hope I’ll be there when the fucker finds us again! See who finally gets to land a shot through his actual heart!”

“Or head”, the skink answered before they could catch themselves… though then again, they did mean that. They turned towards the back window, closing it as they took a look outside one last time, at the stalagmites, the mossy walls, and the distant plume of dust and smoke they’d left behind, before adding, with a sigh and a small smile, “But next time… we should try not to miss.”

The pleasant silence between them was broken by their boss, who turned her head to look at the olm besides them. “Soooooo, Sherry, gonna guess we’ll need to keep our presence in Ishiss to a bare minimum, if this guy said they were looking for ya and now he ain’t coming back for a while? He didn’t exactly look like the sorta pirate to ransack their ships, if ya catch my drift. Someone’s gonna be looking for people outta place.”

Usherrimi sighed, leaning into the cabin. “They will. Whatever this scheme he leapt into is, if they’ve got the money to casually hand him a vessel like that one, they’ll notice its absence. And they’ll give it back, too much invested in it all. Whatever ‘it all’ is… either the Erudites are making a bigger push than usual somewhere and this is just a part of it, or the Clans finally did something to piss them off all at once. Took ‘em long enough.”

Ziv stifled a little giggle, and glanced back at Sherry briefly before seemingly remembering it was still driving even if it wasn’t the shrieking madness of earlier. “So to sum it up, we’re not crossing this border if we can help it, huh?” Her smile twitched slightly, and her ears drooped, before she muttered her next words. “And we can’t, since we gotta pick up Vel and Kal for their side of the haul. We’re gonna have to skirt the border for a while, huh. All the way until we can just barge up by one of the gorges, pick ‘em up at the Soddenvaults where we agreed and bail before anyone can see us.”

The Soddenvaults… pretty far North, at least for Ishiss. You could have the Custody breathing down your neck if you took a wrong turn, that’s how far North it was. “W-why that far, miss Ziv-Ziri”, Qarretzu asked with some trepidation.

“’cause that’s where their part of the haul was! If my client was right, and they usually are, they’ll be finding a train to open up right around… this time, I think! We’ll pick ‘em up away from the train lines though, don’t worry about that bit! ‘specially since they never did tell me whose train that was.” Her voice betrayed no worry at all, the trust she had in those two had to be something, alright. Especially if there was a non-zero chance that was a Custodial train they had to rob…

...still, if this detour was unplanned, Qarretzu thought to try and distract from that idea, then there’d need to be some sacrifices, or at least maneuvers, to make it on time, if a time was decided on. At the very least, they’d need to hurry, though after miss Ziv’s showing just now, that likely wouldn’t be a problem… at least, not a long term problem. In the moment, in the actual, nerve-wracking rocketing through tunnels and caverns to make the time, it might.

…they glanced at Ziv-Ziri’s reflection in the cabin glass, and saw her usual warm smile twisting slightly, like a snicker without the actual sound. Then, a plume of smoke from the engine outside… no, it would be a problem, would it?

At least she wouldn’t be racing death this time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the depths of a sodden cavern, two portly figures sat against a cracked pillar of natural green stone, with trickles of distant water flowing from cracks in the walls as the only sound to accompany them. Between them laid a large and heavy bag, with an ingot of a faintly yellow, sickly-looking metal poking an inch out of its neck. Their side of the haul, as their boss would've surely put it.

One, the biggest and tallest of the two, whose grey, leathery torso was bared to the world, turned to the other one. “If it’s alright to ask, Vi, though it’s fine if it’s not… Don’t think you told me about how you got outta that creek after getting stabbed. You’re here, so I know you got out, but bleeding face-down in the mud like you were…”

The mole waved him off, his perpetual smile far shinier than the dull iron that covered his form. “Ah, don’t you worry about it, Askal, it’s… perhaps the least interesting part of the tale, all in all, but it does deserve a mention anyhow, doesn’t it? And besides, it is where this whole new… life of mine began, and it deserves mention as such…” He laid back, with one claw behind his head and the other digging into the waterlogged stone beneath, sinking until it felt wet. “Settle down then, and I’ll finish it as I should’ve, mm?”

And so, Velardi began. “There I laid, bleeding face down in the mud just like you said. I understand that’s an idiom, in your land, for doom and utter defeat, I imagine it flows much better in your tongue. And… well, I remained there. Hardly saw much of who did it, I… suppose I felt it hardly mattered. For all I knew down there, it might as well have been him holding the blade in my lung. I didn’t even bother looking up, if you can imagine it, I just… laid there, hearing them splash as he ran off, and my assailant ran right after him, from the sound of it all. Must’ve thought I was already dead by then, limp and unmoving in the mud, sinking in…”

Then, a sigh. A forlorn, familiar sigh from the Ferigozi, as his gaze grew distant enough even the shadows in his helmet couldn’t hide it. “Close enough, I suppose. It did strike right through my heart, after all. Not literally, thankfully, but in so many other ways. Looking back… while I was down there, I couldn’t even think about fighting back. Or moving. Or much of anything at all, besides… Mm. I remember… feeling the cold, muddy water against my face, against my nostrils, and thinking… should I just breathe it in? Should I just be done with it? I considered it, outright, because… perhaps because I thought I’d earned it, by then, but mostly because… pain like that makes your mind wander down such places. Any option that would make it stop, no matter the cost, seems worth a shot… to the point a part of me wished that one hadn’t missed my heart. It took some time to fully quiet that one down…”

It took him a moment to continue, as he drummed his claws on his own helmet. Perhaps letting it sink in, or just gathering his wits. “But then, as it all went silent, as I held my breath, I just… pushed against the mud, raised my nose above the water, and took a breath of humid air instead. I’m… still not sure what pushed me to keep going, looking back. I couldn’t say it was spite, or anger, or anything of the sort. Certainly no need for vengeance, then or… now, I’ll admit…” Turning to face Askalim again, he drew breath to continue, but it took him a moment to actually find the words for it. “The only thought I can remember of that moment is… ‘To hell with it. To hell with all of it’. I was done with prospecting, with knighthood, with the family name, with… the kingdom as a whole. They didn’t want me, not even… not even the man that was closest to me, I’d… chased him off at last, I thought. No one was left…”

Askalim rubbed his snout, trying to hide a small smirk. “Guess it might’ve been a little spite after all”, he said. “Sure sounded like me when I got thrown out, ‘cept with less anger and way more heartache. Gave your all for ‘em, for your countrymen, for the country, for everyone, and this is what they do to ya. Damn right, ‘to hell with all of it’, they sure didn’t think twice to try and send us there. By then, might as well live for you, since that’s all you have left by then. Gonna guess there was something like that for ya.”

Again, the mole sighed, his claw moving over his helmet to rest on its forehead. “Suppose as much. Yet I didn’t even think of… living, much. No plans, no plots at all, nothing but the thought, ‘to hell with it’, as I stood up, and just… started walking, one step after the other, trudging through the mud with little idea where I was going. I didn’t have the map, after all, just a soaked backpack we’d mostly emptied out by then. I just knew, more or less, where the Kingdom was, and walked opposite to that, wherever it is that would take me…” After a moment, he let his smile return, tiny, but sincere and fond, and his voice softened. “I hardly know how long I walked like that, it took some time, but whether it was hours or days, I can’t say I remember, and I doubt I cared, back then, but… as luck would have it, I ended up at a little Ifchi town, some manner of river homestead, I believe. Suppose they took pity on me, this wounded, hollow-eyed young mole with nothing but the torn clothes on his back and a sodden backpack. Not even a weapon, by then. Hardly a threat, I bet they saw it on my face…”

Then, as the distant rumble of a familiar engine made itself known, and they both raised their heads, Velardi smiled a little wider. “Just in time, it seems…”. Standing up, and stretching audibly with both claws in the air, he turned to Askalim to finish the tale. “After that, with what meager common language we could find, I overheard some trouble they had with a raider from the East. I never found if it was a deserter, or just one of the more corrupt roadwardens, as they tend to be around the fringes, but… well, they offered a bounty on him. And from there, the rest is history, and the start of a long, and I suppose oddly illustrious career, heheh…”

“Illustrious enough if ya ask me, if you mean bounty huntin’”, Askalim answered, holding onto the stone behind him to pull his bulk up. “Most of the lot I’ve met were… not even assassins, word’s got a class they didn’t have an ounce of, they were just highwaymen with a license. Hardly worth telling apart. Even the ones that soldiered, once, it got real clear why they left. But you’re still a knight. I could tell at a glance, and it’s clear now. I mean that in the best of ways, mind you.”

The badger couldn’t help but smirk, seeing he had Velardi covering his face again, this time with a twitchy, but flattered smile. “Ahah! Askal, please, I do try but there’s no need for that, it wouldn’t do for Zi-Zi to catch me red-faced like this! Ah, lucky me that she’s still a good way away, if that really is her…”

But then, that smile faded, little by little, followed by Askal’s own… as they noted something odd about the sound. And Velardi himself was the first to bring it up: “Does that seem… louder to you, than it usually is? Or closer, perhaps?”

The Toskar didn’t answer. He hardly had the time for it, when the wagon that came roaring and screeching from behind one of the cliffsides, sliding sideways on its wheels before they caught on the road proper and sent it hurtling forwards in their direction, answered for him. He found himself just pointing at it with one thick index finger, as it rushed in their direction – close enough for him to see those big, glowing yellow eyes, unmistakably Ziv-Ziri’s. Reassuring, but the manic joy in them was just a little concerning…

And before either of them could comment on it, before they could do anything but smile and raise a hand to greet the arriving group, Ziv’s wagon made a skidding turn, swerving on the flat, rocky plain before them and stopping only once it had turned around completely, right in front of them all to the point the mole flinched at its arrival. Before even one word could leave his mouth, the doors had swung open. Qarretzu was inside, shifting over with rifle in hand to make some room, and Usherrimi was right behind them, looking almost pensive, for whatever reason, barely sparing them a glance.

But at the other end, right behind her, was Chitwy, who burst out the other door, flew over both them and the wagon in the blink of an eye, and started shoving against them, nudging her spurs into both of their backs as a shriek of “GET THE FUCK IN THERE!” pierced their ears far more painfully than her spurs.

Askal could stand his ground if he could, and he was almost tempted thanks to this greeting, but he just shook his head in disbelief, and squeezed in there with ingots in hand, his bulk sinking the seat until it creaked… and as soon as Velardi followed in, the Cheli shoved him inside so harshly he landed on the Toskar’s lap, before slamming the door right behind him. In moments, she had barged back into the wagon through the other side, shoving Usherrimi to make room for herself. At least there was no bias there.

The badger raised a finger, with a barb on the tip of his tongue, but the wagon launched itself forwards so fast and suddenly he had to swallow it as momentum shoved him back into his seat – and the rattling roar of the engine would’ve drowned it out if it had left his mouth.

Velardi, however, didn’t let that get in the way, and piped up with clear annoyance in his voice. “Well hello to you too! Fine greeting, all around! Dare I ask what the damned hurry is, that I had to be packed in here like luggage?” Throughout it all, he crawled off his lap, dropping onto his spot and almost smushing Qarretzu under his ironclad bulk in the process. “Apologies, and hello, shame we meet with this kind of haste”, he muttered, offering the skink a claw.

Usherrimi took a moment to glare at the bird at her side before answering. “We can’t linger in Ishiss right now, they’ll be looking for us. Specifically us. And it’ll be airships, minimum.”
“On the plus side”, Ziv replied, “it might take ‘em a while. We did knock the first of ‘em down, which is why! Well, kinda, it was a group effort between us and his, uh, stupid idea.”
“M-mostly the idea, a-all I did was get a lucky shot at the wheel, h-he crashed it all by h-himself…!” Still stuttering, this skink… but they lent their own hand to the now-smiling mole. “M-mister Velardi? Charmed…”

…airship, they said. With a rifle at best. An Ifchi airship, after what little he’d heard of those. Oh, he’d need the details on this. Turning towards the cabin, Askalim leaned in, and muttered close enough for the bat to hear, “I’m gonna need the details on all of this, ‘cause it’s sounding like you all had way more fun than we did.”

Her reply waited until she’d swerved down the way she came, so wildly and harshly even the Toskar himself was shoved against the door, and away from the cabin. “Plenty of time for that, Kal! It’s a long, long drive from here to the South, and from there on! But this part right here? From here to the border? You better hold tight for it~!”

…all he could do was glance at the others. At an apologetic Qarretzu, at a grinning Chitwy, and at Usherrimi, who was just… distant, staring at Ziv as if she had something on the tip of her tongue. “Not a side of you I knew about, Zee, but… alright then. Sure beats the train I bet, least the one we boarded.” It also beat climbing cliffs, trudging through ashes on foot, and wading through mud and spores, looking back.

And as the mole at his side settled in, still in armor yet oddly warm to the touch as Ferigozi often were… Mm, yes. Definitely better by miles.

Deep within a dark and sodden cavern, upon a greenstone plateau worn and carved by thin streams of water that seemingly bled from cracks in the walls, two stout fellows forded a small brook right at the lip of its waterfall.

One was far bigger, his hulking, badger-like form bearing stripes of black against the lightest of cyans, and covered in ramshackle plates of improvised armor over a vest and trousers that water couldn’t soak. He’d planted himself right in the middle of the stream, and stretched one vast claw to help the other one cross… And he would very much need it, for he was a far shorter figure, thick and standing on almost stubby legs. Clearly a mole, visible even under the cover of actual armor and a helmet that hid his eyes from view; nothing could hide the enormous claws he grabbed the Toskar’s hand with, to pull himself across with one quick leap.

“You never really pack light, do ya, Vi?”. The Toskar was already climbing his way out of the stream with a smirk, wading through unexpectedly warm waters.
“I could never truly afford to, I’m afraid. Roaming on my own as long as I have, you must be ready for anything, and the habit hardly wears off.” There was just a bit of trepidation in the Ferigozi’s voice, and he lost it only once he was firmly on the other side, where he turned around.
The shard-badger’s smirk only grew as he reached and grabbed “Vi”’s claw, pulling himself up as if the mole were anchored to the rock. “Does that include being ready to cross running water? Doesn’t look like it.”
It took a few moments for him to actually reply, letting the Toskar take the lead once more. “…admittedly that’s never been my forte, Askal. Quite the opposite at times, in fact.”
Askal – or Askalim, rather – slowed his pace to let the mole catch up, so that he could face him with a raised eyebrow as they resumed their march. “What, fording rivers? I’ve seen you handle worse lands than these, you’re telling me a bit of water makes it that much harder?”

But Vi – actual name Velardi – didn’t return his look at first. “Whether you believe it or not. For one, I’ve always felt I work better with more metal rather than less, that should be obvious. I’m sure you understand, you’ve seen me work after all. But the other matter is rather more…” He trailed off for a moment, and turned his helmeted face towards Askalim, eyes hidden deep in its dark slits. “Well, suppose you’ll be the first to hear it, I’ve been dodging certain bounties enough. I… never did learn to swim.”

A snort, and a wider smirk from the badger, one that showed the tip of a large fang. “Not something they taught over at the Kingdom, or not something you bothered to learn? I don’t see you learning it ever if you keep packing half your body weight in steel everywhere you go, Vi!” He allowed himself a low, yet hearty chuckle, before laying one claw on the mole’s shoulder. “But I’m not judging, not anymore, and not on that. It took leaving the Empire for me to realize we were right behind Ishiss when it comes to swimming lessons, imagine that! And with the Kingdom being where it is? I ain’t surprised. Zee always told me not to touch the rivers over there.”

“She did well in telling you that much, Askal. ‘Don’t trust gathered water’, as we said back there, for quite a few reasons. Why, even a clean, untouched, uninhabited stream might scald your tongue off if you don’t watch yourself…” Vel allowed himself a tiny, sardonic smile, and a little chuckle on top. “If you’ve ever wondered about why the Kingdom is so thickly strewn with wells, now you know. Better to draw it out on our terms… Anyhow, I suppose it’s simply a little bit difficult to convince myself these waters won’t attempt to kill me.” To that, he briefly glanced backwards at the stream they’d just crossed, almost warily…

Right before Askalim pulled him away and back onto their track – in topic and path alike – his own little smile gone in a flash. “All the more reason to pack lighter so you don’t sink like lead, Vi, which I don’t see you doing.” He pointed one claw at the empty bag slung over his ironclad shoulder as he continued. “While emptying out your bag is a step in the right direction, carrying over half your weight in steel is a bunch of steps back from that.” The badger made his point with a quick finger-flick to Velardi’s breastplate, ringing the metal so he’d look down and remind himself of its bulk… and, perhaps, its unremarkable construction; as far as plate armor went, it was thick and solid but middlingly made, if not outright mediocre. “And don’t tell me it’s out of sentimental value, I know you bent this thing out of old rails in one evening.”

Something about the Ferigozi’s expression as soon as Askalim said that, however, made his smile drop. A lowered brow, a displeased twitch, and a lower voice. “It’s less than ideal, I am aware, but it’s something, and it’s what works for me, Askal. I’m not…” The mole trailed off, with little trace of his usually placid expression, as his sight seemingly wandered elsewhere. Anywhere other than Askalim, seemingly trying to find the words. Even sniffing, reflexively, as if he could track the right phrase by smell…

...before setting off quickly as fast as his thick, stubby legs could carry him. Seems he did sniff something out.

The shard-badger caught up quickly enough, on long and heavy steps that brought him right besides Vel. Before saying anything, he made a point of staring into his eyes with slight annoyance, which was quickly dismissed with a sigh. “Alright, Vi, but we will be picking that one back up afterwards. So, what’d you find?” Just in case, he turned ahead towards their apparent destination – a steep greenstone climb towards something unseen, right next to a plummeting stream just big enough to be called an actual waterfall.

“Ah, easy!” That smirk of his had come back in less than a second, matching his tone. “Air smudged with coal and oils, carried by their respective smoke, and mixed in with the slightest, yet unmistakeable scent of sparking metal, all coming from a spot we know has rails, thanks to your map? Askal,” he said in a lilting voice, turning towards him just to make sure he saw that confident smile, “I believe our train is here, and just in time~.”

How convenient, thought Askalim with briefly-narrowed eyes. Still, they had a job to do. A smash and grab of sorts, though with no windows to actually smash they would need to get slightly more creative. Up the incline they went, climbing up with claws on the firmer outcroppings, as the badger leaned in to whisper against his companion’s helmet: “Keep your voice down, then, and keep your clanking to a minimum, Vi. If there’s so much as one Vez in that train we’re gonna have a slight problem.” He was practically on all fours, making sure none of the metal in his outfit touched the stones beneath him; he’d need to speak little, and move perfectly, as the water’s flow could only mask so many words and steps before someone grew suspicious…

Velardi, however, crawled over the stones like a natural, in spite of his oversized claws and damn near paunchy breastplate. It slid over the rock without actually scraping, somehow, and his movements seemed fluid enough to avoid clacking the pieces together. And his claws just propelled him forwards and upwards, almost the same motions he’d use for digging applied to hook him on each stone and send him forth faster than Askalim could match. Vel knew it, too, taking a moment to side-eye him (he assumed) just to jovially whisper back: “Please, sergeant, I’ve worn this half my life, I know how to keep iron quiet.”

Sergeant. Askal hadn’t been that in a while, and hearing it gave him pause, slowed his climb at his lip twitched, unsure whether to turn up or down. Still, he forced himself to catch up, going on autopilot for a few moments before they approached the end of their climb. “Guess Zee caught you up with that whole thing, didn’t she,” he muttered, “saves me some time I guess…” Oh, he’d need to have a talk with Ziv-Ziri about secrecy, even if he’d never told her not to tell anyone about how he came to work with her. But then again, maybe she was just paving the road between them, Vel was a military mole-
Velardi almost crested the edge of the climb, right behind a boulder, and settled in, motioning for Askalim to come and hurry. Another thought to put off for later, then, as he raced his way up to join him behind the rock, peer over its edge… and find the rails right there, not ten feet away from them. And right upon them, pointed West, stretching from the bridge ahead to a curve far to their right, was a heavy cargo train, utilitarian and plated all over with more steel than most. Every wagon was boxy and windowless, and the engine was oddly angular, practically a wedge on wheels with small windows and a chimney to break its geometric pattern.

“See, Askal,” the mole whispered right against the badger’s ear, “still smoking. The fires inside aren’t even out yet for this stop. We might even be ahead of schedule.”
“Where Zee got a schedule good enough for us to catch this thing right here is the real question”, the badger muttered to himself as he glanced ahead of the train. Yet-indistinct figures – thankfully short ones, so no Vezarym to hear them – seemed to be examining the bridge ahead, one of them kneeling to have a closer look.
“Perhaps the same contact that let her know such a train even existed? This one is quite unusual. Too muted to be ours, too simple to be Bannerbound, too unarmed to be one of yours, and too heavy to be most of anyone else’s, when it comes to the usual commerce”. He’d be right on all accounts, as far as Askalim knew, except for one he hadn’t thought of…
“I almost want to say it’s Shumhaq, the Burnt Hive have a thing for the rough and simple”, he countered, before grimacing. “But that engine’s throwing me off on that, and I don’t see anyone with more than two legs up there.” Then, he looked towards the tail-end of the train, and began a slow and silent march. “Whoever’s train it is, what it’s got is ours, let’s get moving.”

Right behind the edge of the climb, the two made their way towards the rear of the train, with eyes, ears and noses perked for any details or movements that might make their job harder. Little to be seen in that regard, the lack of windows worked in their favor, so it was a matter of stepping carefully, watching their backs, and double-checking every time they were about to pass another car just in case someone was stepping between them. “Bit easier than I thought it’d be,” Askalim muttered to himself, before adding, almost hastily, “so far.” It seemed right to add it, just in case, but he hoped the very comment hadn’t jinxed their work.

Velardi just quietly shushed him with one claw against his own snout, staying ahead and finding the steadiest path to ensure no missteps or rolling rocks gave them away. He was careful to keep the scenery between him and the train where he could, just in case; perhaps there might be hidden slits or other visors somewhere in there, discreet but functional. Better to follow his lead, he did handle subtlety a little better than Askal ever did… an embarrassing thought, when talking about a guy with more steel on him than cloth. But he’d been wearing that far longer… and in fact it was rare to see him without any protection. Sure, this was dangerous work, but when had Vi been out there with some actual clothing on instead of plating?

The badger’d need to hold that thought – worrying as it was that he couldn’t even think of one occasion in that time – because the mole was nearing the end of the train, crawling his way across the incline right ahead of him. All with no sign either of them had been spotted. No alarmed voices, no hurried steps, no doors swinging open, and most importantly no gunshots. All smooth, all flawless… so far. Those two words were important to add. Either way, the last wagon was there for them, seemingly unattended, boxy and windowless like the rest; only the “intel” Ziv-Ziri had given them pointed at it as special. If she, or rather her contact, was right about this, then there would be a few very valuable, and very heavy ingots of…

“…Vi, what’s the stuff we’re here for called again?”, he whispered, keeping embarrassment to a minimum.
“Sallow-silver I believe she said?”, the mole whispered back as he peered from behind one last boulder. He sounded uncertain, whether of the word or what it meant.
“Got any idea what that even is, Vi?”, he asked. He may as well; he’d never worked metal, just wore it and swung it, Velardi was ahead of him there.
“Not at all, I’m afraid.” Should’ve expected that. But then came his speculation: “Hardly sounds like jewelry, sallow isn’t a word for such, but silver is hardly war-worthy either. It must be something obscure. Perhaps even occult.”

Askalim could only nod quietly, as the idea completely left their areas of expertise. That was closer to Ushi’s playground, and she wasn’t here. All they could be sure of was that the ingots (presumably) in that wagon were very valuable indeed, to the point they’d hardly need many of them to cover their contact’s needs… he could only wonder if he could sneak any more beyond that number, just as a bonus for themselves. There had to be a market out there for it, right? Zee could surely find one, so long as they actually had the metal in her hands.

And so, the badger began his careful approach towards their objective, with Velardi right at his side. From rock to rock, on quick and light steps that wouldn’t scatter pebbles or rattle their own wear, quick looks and listens all around to make sure no one was close… by the time he made the last quick dash towards the train, both to use it as cover andd have a close look at the can they’d need to open, he couldn’t help but think this had to be the worst-guarded train he knew of. Even a passenger ferry would’ve spotted them by now! Were the ones making and riding these relying on thick walls to keep everyone out, and that’s it? Was this one just cheap, skimping on armaments and leaving only what could barely be called a skeleton crew, right at the front and nowhere else?

All such musings came to an end when they came close enough to touch the armored wagon, and felt – the same way one feels an oncoming tremor before it becomes a quake – that something very large inside it moved.

Both froze in their tracks. No one had seen them, but it became increasingly likely that something had felt them, even if it didn’t know who or what they were. They’d need to coordinate.

Vel looked back at his companion, and motioned with his claws. Pointed at himself, motioned downwards with one claw outstretched, and thrust it forwards… A breaching action, presumably; he could probably mold an opening into this thing if it was steely enough, knowing what he could do with the formless iron glob he called a weapon. Then the mole pointed back at Askalim, pretending to lunge with both hands and grabbing something unseen… He breaches, he stabs in, and Askal rushes in and grabs. That’s fair, quick, and maybe too simple. But then again it’s not like they knew what else to try.

Nothing left to do but try, then. Velardi stepped forwards, holding a shapeless metal lump in his claw, hovering it mere inches from the wagon’s side, while Askalim remained right behind him, axe at his side and both hands empty to snatch up anything he saw resembling their quarry. Seconds passed, as they readied up for a quick and violent entrance… Before Vel raised his iron “weapon”, shifted it around his claws like a form-fitting glove, counted to one, and plunged the last remaining clawtip into the wagon’s side. After some digging, it slowly sank in, “glove” and all, and he opened it up with an upwards cut, one he slowly widened by the iron’s constant push-

Through which something – a huge, shining metal arm with three claws longer than Vel’s own – erupted with a thundering CLANG, reaching blindly for the apparent intruder.

Velardi had to be thankful for his short stature, as the initial swipe narrowly missed his head; Askalim was caught instead, the claws tightening around the loose, improvised “breastplate” right in front of his vest, which easily came loose as the badger threw himself out of the way. This bought the two a few moments, as the claw busied itself with trying to crush the scrap it just caught – and finding worrying success.

“CHANGE OF PLANS,” the badger called out, knowing all subtlety had flown off a cliff, “YOU GRAB IT! I’LL KEEP THIS THING OFF!”. Flinging himself forwards, he yanked his axe off its straps, and gave the arm a quick, surveying look: It was all metal, each segment a metal “girder” of sorts joined to each other by a comparatively simple hinge – all of this surrounded by contraptions composed mostly of a single, shiny metal tube for each-

On a hunch, he reared back and slammed the blade of his axe right where one tube ended and its contraption began.
And where sharpness wouldn’t cut, the sheer force behind the swing did the trick. The blade was driven just a few inches in, but the great gout of amber fluid that spewed out of this gash once he’d pulled his weapon away let Askal know it was enough.

Yet as the badger pulled away, the metal arm strained against its confines to try and pursue. Something was twisting within the walls, turning the claw towards him in turn, but the lunge that followed after him wasn’t quite quick; just enough for him to swat the claw away and actually deflect it – barely. While the thing swung wide, he took a moment to glance at what Velardi was doing, far closer to whatever this arm belonged to… The mole was using the hole it’d opened up, reaching inside with one metal-coated claw to grab whatever he could. The iron twitched and flowed in his grasp, letting him know he’d at least have the reach.

The arm surging back to try and plant its sharpened digits into his back only confirmed Vi was on the right track. It strained itself, spewing its amber “blood” everywhere in an oily geyser, just to get at him.
This time, however, its injury had slowed it down just enough for Askalim to react. He stretched out his arm, raised his dented axe, and hooked a different tube with the “beard” of the blade right as he planted his boots as firmly against the stone as he could manage.

The badger found himself launched forwards into the arm, crashing chest-first against the assorted tubes as his hooking worked out – and revealed who was heavier in the process. He barely managed to stop himself from getting winded, grappling the machinery almost instinctively, while he felt something spray against his leg. Something hot, practically scalding, and oily as well – that was good news at least. But the bad news followed as he rose his weapon again, prepared for a tangled scuffle, and found the axe had been practically decapitated by the impact, its “neck” bent backwards at a near-perfect right angle…

But even a bad blade can be a good bludgeon, as they said back in Voska. Or in this case, a good lever. He grabbed his busted armament in both hands before the claw could resume its assault and jammed it right between the main body and a different tube, reeling the whole thing in and giving him leverage to start bending it. Anything to keep it away and distracted from what they actually came for, even if it meant fighting something that could kill him with just the one limb.

As the struggle began, Askal’s quick and savage thinking was paying off: Its next move was to immediately try to lift him in the air, presumably aiming to toss him off or even slam him back down, but between his Toskar bulk and the damage to its tubes all it achieved was spewing more amber fluid than it’d already lost, just to raise him a few inches off the ground. Even better, it gave him ample time to start twisting what would be yet another weapon lost in action right around its moving parts, the groaning metal letting him know he was on the right track. And from the looks of it Vi was already pulling something shiny right out of the wagon, reaching in for-

The arm slammed down with the same alarming speed as the first time, planting the badger’s heels into the ground with an audible crack as his boots met the rock. It kept pushing down, seemingly aiming to crush him – or so it would seem, because the actual claw was heading straight for the rock as well, actively reaching out to grasp it. Leverage, he thought. Better to mess with that too, if he wanted to remain distracting. And not be crushed into a smear over the cavern floor, that was important too.

He quickly found it’d be a slow and losing battle either way. Askal pushed up with all his might, as firm as a mountain of muscle like him could manage, but muscle was no match for this… machine. Inch by inch it was reaching the ground, no matter how much he strained; he could hear pebbles being ground to dust under his boots, barely above the sound of his own heart in his ears, but on it went, little by little, seemingly pushed forwards by the one tube he didn’t smash open. Damn it. The silver lining of the whole thing, however? He didn’t need to win, or even last forever. He just needed to hold until Velardi had cleaned out what they needed.

…Velardi, who – thanks to a coincidental glance – he saw was about to be menaced by another arm just like this one, emerging from the top of the opening he’d made. And by the tilt of his helmet, right as he was reaching deeper inside, he could see it too.

The seconds that followed were a blur. Only after they were over could Askalim piece together that he’d rushed the wagon with the contraption-riddled limb still in his grasp; he couldn’t quite remember if he was trying to imbalance it further, or just tried to crush the thing against the nearest wall in a fit of panicked fury. It took him a moment to figure out why it had worked in the first place, as brute force alone hadn’t been cutting it, and the strength granted by such an outburst couldn’t have been enough by itself. But then he saw glints of bluish light reflecting off the arm, and the wagon behind it. He felt his opponent’s strength as it slowly returned, erratically and without direction, from a sudden absence. And he heard something echo across the cavern, the remnants of a CRACK that he had been too blindly enraged to catch.

A spark of lightning. Of his lightning, erupting from his body as soon as he’d been pushed far enough. Yet again he’d forgotten he could do that – and yet again it’d only come out once he was too far gone to think.

“That’s enough of that, it’s time we left!”

Velardi’s voice cut above the rising ruckus of the wagon’s dweller regaining its bearings; when Askalim turned to face him, he saw the mole right next to a haphazard pile of ingots, tossing some behind him with one claw while the other tried to shove the machine back into the dark. This “sallow-silver” hardly looked like silver – to his eyes it looked like gold that’d somehow grown deathly ill, too sickly-shaded to even shine anymore – but it’s what they came for, and it’s what they’d have to haul out. And so he went, tossing his “opponent” aside before slipping off his empty backpack, hurrying to pack their loot inside and leave…

Shoving the ingots in by the handful, the badger looked back at his partner-in-crime, just in case he needed to intervene. Almost, but not quite, from the looks of it: He was trying to “knit” the cut he’d made back together, using his iron supply as the metaphorical thread to pull the sides together and seal them. The mole was already giving up trying to shove the (first) limb back in there, and was just molding metal around it, trapping it at the joint and presumably hoping it would hold long enough, while it was still weakened. Funny how he’d picked up on that so quickly, when Askalim had been the one actually wrestling the damn thing.

Then the machine inside twitched, and the improvised seal started to groan and creak. They’d either need more haste, or more iron, Askal thought – right before an ear-rattling pop of once-bound metal let him know haste alone might not cut it.

So in he charged, barging past Velardi – dropping the bag at his feet – to stuff what he could of their attacker’s arm back into its box, while kicking part of the pile of ingots away from their struggle. “More, you need more in there! Close it before it breaks out”, the badger called out as he did his best to hold the construct at bay. Surely he could spare some, if anything his weapon was even more expendable than Askal’s own!

And sure enough, the mole set both claws to work, smearing iron like clay over the gash, slowly patching it up with their opponent still stuck in it…
But when that ran out, there was a pause, a silence, that somehow pierced through the sounds of clanking metal.

“...Vi? That’s not gonna be enough”, the Toskar grunted out between pushes and shoves, side-eyeing the Ferigozi… the oddly quiet, oddly still Ferigozi, whose claw was reaching out, gesturing half-heartedly as if the iron he’d need would come from nowhere at all. But it was right there on his armor, he’d seen him mold it! “Vi, come on, we’ll pluck a rail or something later, move it!” A groan of effort punctuated their hurry, as the thing started pushing back – and through…

Yet the mole remained… confused? His beady eyes were wide, flitting around back and forth, so clearly he was present, but he wasn’t actually doing anything yet! He just kept glancing down then looking away like he didn’t want to. He swear he could hear him mutter, about not having… something, the struggle drowned out the specifics.
Finally, he looked back at Askalim with those same wide eyes and asked, in a weak and uncertain voice, “Askal, can you come closer, I need your armor…”

Another creak of tormented metal filled the air, as the badger did what he could to keep the thing inside, but his attention was fully on Velardi after that, staring at him in pure bafflement. Then, before he could even think about what he’d heard, he was already yelling back. “THEN COME AND PLUCK IT OFF ME WHILE I FIGHT THIS THING IF YOU CARE SO MUCH!” Askalim snarled, showing teeth and flaring what quills he had, practically forced to swallow whatever Voskan curse he was about to spit out. This wasn’t the moment for… whatever this was! Especially not for someone like Velardi, sandbagging this at the eleventh hour was not like him. And that almost fearful look he was giving back even less so! The badger’s quills sparked, reflecting off the mole’s armor again, the same armor he’d risk him for! “YOU’VE GOT ALL THIS IRON ON YOU AND YOU CAN’T PART WITH EVEN A SINGLE POUND OF IT!? ARE YOU GONNA-”

Something even louder than a furious Toskar cut him off. A sound of ruptured metal as the construct’s other limb poked through, and widened the gap just enough for both to see some of its body. Or were those three shining lights upon a rounded, silvery shape like the edge of a massive disc merely what it had for a face…?

Velardi said nothing, not even a syllable, in spite of his open mouth. His expression seemed to outright blank, in fact, as he clawed at his own armor, sinking his fingers into it like clay and smearing it, outright tossing it all over the opening he was meant to seal up. Practically threw himself at the wagon, scrabbling over it in his suddenly-desperate attempts to shutter it. The construct inside it, in spite of its efforts, was buried once more, arm and “wrist” thoroughly gummed up with iron smeared like plasticine over its workings. It’d break back out, those three glowing “eyes” buried into theirs told them as much, but it would buy them time. Just enough time to grab the silver and flee-

...the former task falling entirely in Vel’s hands, because the unarmored mole had scrambled off so fast he couldn’t even catch what he was wearing underneath. Was he running off on all fours, throwing himself forwards with his claws…? That would be convenient, but… improper. To him, at least.

No time for that. After all that racket the actual crew of this thing had to be coming. Nothing left to do but open the bag, scoop all the ingots in, and run off after Vi before they could catch either of them. Easy enough, so long as he could run fast enough… And the banging of metal against metal right behind him gave him a much-needed jumpstart, sending him into a dead sprint before he even thought to look back.

This time, however, keeping up with the mole proved almost impossible. He’d never seen Velardi move this fast before, scrambling over the sodden earth almost like a wild animal. Easy as it’d be to think this was just how he moved when finally unburdened, it didn’t feel like enough of an explanation. Even less so after Askal saw him rush the edge of the plateau they were on and leap right off, disappearing from his sight completely… And the glimpse he got of blank, beady-eyed panic on the mole’s face before plummeting below sealed the deal.
Askalim didn’t call out his name, not yet, not when they were being followed (not that he looked back to check). All he could do was rush in as fast as he could, panting and on aching legs, hauling however many pounds of priceless metal over his shoulder, to reach the same edge he’d jumped from so he could find a better way down – and more importantly, find if he’d need to carry off a shattered Ferigozi on his other shoulder. And when he came to a skidding halt right at the edge, and practically belly-flopped onto the edge to peer down without fear…

The good news was, there wasn’t a mole-shaped splatter down below, and “below” wasn’t too far off, with a few manageable meters right beneath him. The bad news was that said mole was nowhere to be seen, intact or otherwise. Nothing but a couple boulders and craggy stone. He reluctantly shined what light he had upon the place, hoping to catch even a single sign, but he saw nothing more, other than some scattered pebbles that were right below him.
…that got joined by a few more, scattered from the cliffside itself into the open.

If that was what he thought, Askal was still right on time, and if it wasn’t, he’d be far enough behind that he may as well check. Clinging with his claws to the edge, slid down and dropped off, landing below with bent knees to make sure he didn’t crack anything – Toskar didn’t handle heights well. Turning to face the cliff he’d just dropped from, he saw a large vein of white stone among the green, and upon shining his light on it all he saw what he was looking for: A single, large crag upon it, recently shattered and widened, with more and more pebbles tossed out of it… He’d need to crawl in there, squeeze in, but he could manage it. And so, swiping off his improvised, clattering armor and stuffing it into the bag with their haul, he got on his knees and started pushing himself in there, hoping he wouldn’t get stuck… Then again, maybe that would wake Vi up from this panicky fugue.

In he went, squeezing his bulk through the confines of the crack, and the tunnel inside it. The badger could only be thankful much of that bulk budged before the pressure, that his vest and fur were smooth enough not to snag on anything, but the process was slow, and reversing would need a prodigious show of strength, or Ferigozi help. He could barely keep a light forwards, shining through the newly-made tunnel in this softer, easily fractured rock, see the contours of a passage so hastily made, the clear gashes on the wall, with unmistakable clawmarks… He uttered into the dark: “Vi? Vi, this ain’t a bad hiding spot, but you can stop now.”

He held his breath, and heard the cracking of stone a short way ahead. Pebbles rattled as they flew out, bouncing underneath him. Perhaps he didn’t hear, perhaps he ignored his words, but Velardi was somewhere in there.

Further in he went, scraping himself against the rough edges of these hastily-carved walls. Not a place for a Toskar, not in the least, but he could say the same of this whole plateau. And the situation as a whole… Not the time for such thoughts. “Vi”, he called out once more, just a little louder, “slow down for a sec, I can barely get through these! Bit of help!?” He didn’t need that much help, but having him widen the gap a little further would be good. Especially if he needed to turn around for any reason. “I can’t follow you inside like this, come on!”, he called again, before adding almost absentmindedly: “You’re not gonna leave me behind, are you?”

That stopped the noise ahead. The grinding, the cracking, and eventually the clacking of pebbles and rocks against the confines of the tunnel. Silence reigned, saved for Askal’s breath… and, if he listened closely, Velardi’s.

Groaning, he made his way further in, practically pulling himself in with one free claw while the other dragged the bag behind him, legs planted firmly on the ground to shove him in. He hurried as much as his bulk and the bag allowed, even putting away his light to advance. An advance in near-complete darkness was still an advance, and the path was but one. The breathing was closer now, he could hear it – ragged, exhausted, yet still hurried and shallow…
And when he thought he heard it close enough, and how little it had changed, he did what he could to squeeze his other claw past his body, little by little, holding his only light – their only light, after the mole left his behind.

And so, he found Velardi, unarmored and bare, seemingly just… staring at the wall he’d been tunneling into, not even turning to face his partner in crime. Surrounded by soft, scattered pebbles and bigger shards that’d been hurled right behind him. The detritus his desperate tunneling had shredded his shirt, such as it was, baring him to the badger’s eyes, and…

Askalim knew the scars of battle, knew the marks that warfare could leave on a body. He’d read entire histories on the weathered skin and fur of fellow combatants. But what he found on Velardi was an outright pristine pattern of smooth, almost shiny scales. Unscathed, and dare he say outright untouched, with neither the scrape of a blade nor the crack of a hammer upon them. The pattern was unbroken all over his back, from his unexpectedly long tail up to where his collar would be…

Save for a single, scale-less scar, inches long and remarkably thick, narrowly missing his upper spine.

That wasn’t a battle injury, Askalim knew. And from the haunted look he could see in Velardi’s eye – he’d been so distracted he didn’t even see him turn – it wasn’t a scar he wanted to show, let alone boast about. Was he trying to hide it this whole time? Hiding the history behind it, and-
…doing all in his power so he wouldn’t repeat it. That sounded more like it.

Quietly, the badger took his time in pulling the bag through a gap between him and the wall, sliding himself back to place their loot between them… Not just the loot, but Askal’s ramshackle armor as well, still strung by its improvised straps as it was unveiled, and laid before the mole. “Here, you can have it now”, he whispered, as he put out the light.

Then, darkness, and a silence broken only by a soft sound of fur brushing against metal as – Askalim could only assume – the iron was reshaped under his claws. Not by brute force, but by whatever it was that let other Ferigozi give life and puissance to anything their hands could shape. And when that stopped, there was nothing but soft breathing, so much calmer than before…

When the light came back on, it was in Velardi’s claws. It’d been enough for a breastplate and greaves, but either he didn’t want a helmet, or it hadn’t been enough for one. And thus, one could see into his eyes… Distant, looking well away from his own, but very much there. Trying to glance at the badger, only to wince and shut them as if he’d stared into an open crucible. His mouth almost opened, as if it tried but couldn’t, with no words to justify it. A far cry from the usual…

So Askalim spoke first. “Caught one blade too many, didn’t you?”, he asked in the most empathic tone he could manage.
“Y-you saw it… Y-you don’t understand, one was too much, t-that one was too much…” Vi could only stammer in response, but it was progress.
“Not much of a battle-scar, that one.” Now for a risky maneuver, something closer to a bitter joke. “You hear talk about being stabbed in the back, sometimes, but I’m guessing this was pretty damned literal.”
A held breath, let out. Almost like a sob, in fact, but not quite there. “Y-you d-don’t know the half of it, Askal, it’s-”
On that, he had to interrupt. Gently, but firmly, briefly holding his snout shut between two fingers, but with a small, if ironic smile. “Way I made it here, from a Voskan sergeant to an outlaw hiding in a cave, thanks to a certain captain… I might know some of it. Maybe not half, but some at least.”

That silenced the mole, even after Askalim let go of him. One could almost hear the gears grinding in his head as he processed it all… Before he closed his eyes, sighing. “...perhaps. Perhaps you’re right on that. Of the sorry lot we’ve become, you might come closest there, shameful a badge as that may be.” The mole shook his head with a mirthless little smile. “A badge, I call it, as if this were a competition. As if anyone wanted to win… Heh. The closest thing to a prize for it was almost getting you killed, wasn’t it?”

Askal could only shrug. “Eh, almost sounds too close to me. Didn’t happen, that’s what matters right now. And this little hiding spot you made actually works so far, so that’s a plus. Just…” He trailed off, looking at the ceiling as if he’d find the right words there, before giving up. “Try not to lose it like that next time. Or any time. That’s all I can ask. Because wanting to know what the story is behind… that, that’s just curiosity, not my business to pry-”

He found it was his turn to be silenced, with one clawtip pushing his jaw shut. Velardi’s ever-present smile… bitter, sorrowful, but at least it was back. That was something. “No, no, after that… after that, I think you’ve at least earned the right. And besides, if we’re going to hide out in here, with hours to burn until the train moves on, we may as well burn them with something to bridge this whole business, don’t you think?” Lowering his claw, and setting it against the walls that pressed against Askalim’s ribs, he started digging them in, gently, inch by inch. “Let me just clear ourselves some ground for a proper camp, here in the deep. It’s about time someone else knew…”

“…funny that. All the stories I tell, and I never got to the most important one, didn’t I?”

(another from the archive, another main crew story, introducing the oldest of our enforcers. Prompt by Make Up a Criminal on Cohost)

(another prompt story, this time provided by Make Up An Adventurer, and not following the main crew - this will be the last one before I dive into putting up the story of Ziv-Ziri and her little squad. Still, proud of this one, a bit)