Of Steam and Steel: IC (Mature) {Currently Open}

[Lisky]

The sun was coming up on the eastern horizon, it's gentle light bathing the world in a soft warmth.  It was the end of spring, the plant-life was in full bloom, and the populous of the various nations were getting up to begin their daily routines.  Morning deliveries were being made, and the usual hustle and bustle of everyday went on.

In Voethfel, it was raining over most of the region, a light, constant patter under a dark gray sky.  A light fog, gently rolling across the fields, through the city streets, causing the winged residence of the land to seem ominous, and silhouetted from any distance.

In Nhylamar an earthquake hit an unpopulated area, the weak vibrations, however, could be felt for hundreds of miles around.  A train was flying past near the epicenter, and derailed.  The heating spell, normally used to keep the boiler running, failed to disengage in time, as first the main engine, then subsequent cars caught ablaze.  A smoking pillar, rising up to greet the morning sun.

In Aeliseium, it was eerily bright as morning mass started.  The fact that every church had a stained glass window facing the east added to the dramatic effects of the sermon, as the gathered church-goers were bathed in brilliantly colored rays.  Their god reminding them of the glory that awaited them in heaven, or so the priests would say.

In Sevastia' Nyad a heavy wind blows across the great sea port of Vestria, the "shipyards" working tirelessly to build the grand sky-ships.  Cargo is loaded from the near-by docks as both recently finished, and recently repaired merchant ships gather their loads and proceed inland.

At Sevastia' Nyad's Trinity Arcane Academy, news that the Countess of West-Hollow was making an appearance had many of the younger professors and students on edge.  Somewhere on campus, the tall, narrow, and fiery red and navy vixen demon was looking for someone.  She had a suitably professional skirt, dress tunic, and very simple, yet expertly crafted pieces of jewelry.  In her left hand was a letter addressed to a professor Whittington-Smythe the Fifth.

In Ahnk' Ator, the sounds of heavy machine starting up, the deep rumble of heavy metal against the ground.  Another day, another series of patrols, as the mechanized forces of both insectis and being dutifully guard the border, following their assigned routes in hopes of catching would be pirates before they get close enough to cause any real damage.


(OOC: so, here's how it goes ladies and gentleman.  I'm leaving the beginnings of your introductions completely up to you and taking things from there.  Parties will be gathered, and the adventure(s) will unfold.  You choose where you wished to start, describe the settings, and i'll get you going from there.  Have fun with this, and I'm hoping you're ready for the twists and turns i've been plotting for you all. /OOC Note)

[Ashen Star]

"For our peace, we give praise.  For our salvation, we give praise.  For our future, we give praise.  All mighty creator and protection of this world and the next we give praise."  The words rolled off Ashlynn's tongue with a comforting familiarity, even though it felt somewhat hollow.  She wasn't at peace nor did she feel saved as she knelt in the vane of Pouteux Bree's chapel on the hill overlooking the town.  Yes she went through the motions.  As an officer she understood and appreciated the importance of appearance to the community.

Once the services were over she excused herself from the after worship activities.  The luncheon would be nice, but she was certain that some women in the prayer group had decided it was long past time for Lieutenant Taige to find herself a husband.  That was the last thing she needed right now.  She walked down the shaded lane to the city below.  Most of the town would be busy with denominational activities, but for Ashlynn this was her chance to take care of some intimate business.

She slipped into the doctor's office, glad she made the appointment weeks ago to see him when he wasn't busy.  After some brief pleasantries in which she talked about inconsequentials at work and he gave vague anecdotes about unnamed patients they withdrew into his examination room where she neatly disrobed.  Each piece of her uniform was carefully folded or hung, even her underwear.  When she was bare the smoky furred skunk was glad only the doctor saw her like this.

"I just feel wrong.  It's not a pain.  It's different that that."  She said as she sat, closing her eyes, ignoring the doctor poking her and listening with his sthetscope.  He knew about her; one of five who really knew about her.

"Your hand and foot are working correctly though, yes?"  She raised her mechanical hand.  It was wrong.  It felt like her actual hand, but it wasn't.  She could hear the gears clicking softly as she manipulated the fingers.  No hesitation in any of them.  "Well I don't know what I can tell you.  Your case is unique, my dear.  I'm afraid any complication you develop will also be unique."

Complecation.  Her life had become one massive complication.  Ashlynn nodded and redressed.  "Doctor, may I ask... what do you hear when you listen through that?"  She asked as she buttoned her shirt, nodding towards the sthetscope around his neck.

He gave a polite smile.  A feigned smile.  She was an expert at that.  "Oh just the usual.  Your breathing.  Heartbeat.  You know."  She did know.  She bantered with him for a few more minutes and paid him his script before she slipped out the door.  Her eyes locked straight ahead as she walked towards the town's barracks house.

He'd been lying.  Her heart hadn't beaten for almost four years now. 

[Tapewolf]

Sethir Clandover glanced up as the clock chimed gently.  In Nhylamar there was no need to hide and so he didn't need to pretend sleep.  While Seth didn't exactly flaunt the fact that he was of incubus heritage, he didn't believe in concealing it either.  Better that people know right away.

Even though he hadn't slept, the white wolf launched into a fairly normal morning routine - showering, cleaning his teeth and putting on a fresh set of clothes to face the new day.  He paused and concealing his backwings, selected a racing suit... they needed more gearwork for the repair job downstairs and he'd have to go into the capital to have them made up to the tolerances the job required.

Leaving the machine shop in the care of his apprentice, the wolf hid his backwings, donned the jacket, helmet and hopped onto his bike.  The Stirling engine was cold of course, but a quick blast of fireball spell soon brought it up to operating temperature.  Placing a lump or two of coal in the combustion chamber to keep it running, he revved it up to speed and took off into the streets of Nhylamar.

[WhiteFox]

Gabriel blinked a few times, sprawled on his back, amid debris and other panicked passengers. A derailed train or an exploding boiler were nothing new to him, but he was usually a lot closer to the engine when it happened.

"Bollocks." He said after a time.

He sat up, recovered his cap and his gun, and hurried to back the cars where passengers baggage were kept. Gabriel had no intention of getting press ganged into fixing an obliterated engine. Hopefully, Walsh was still in one piece. Of course, there was a chance someone would get it into their head to take off with the steam powered bike themselves...

Gabriel shifted his Holland, his gun, over to cradle it in one arm. He dug a translucent blue stone almost the size of his fist out from one of the pockets on his belt, and dropped it down the four inch wide barrel. Then he pulled a hand lever, fixed to the side where any other gun would have a breech or lock. Internal linkages shifted, and an indicator on the side of the weapon moved from "Ignite" to "Activate"

If there were any looters or press gangs, Gabriell was sure Holland would have something to say about it.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

The Countess swished through the halls, gracefully striding along the corridors and walkways of the august Academy, in search of someone - anyone - who could direct her to the professor without either gibbering and wetting themselves, or drooling enough to irrigate a desert country. She wasn't having much luck.

"Can you tell me where... no, I guess not. I wouldn't worry, were I you. You really won't burn very well like that." With a snort of derision, the navy and crimson vixen strode onwards, her various parts moving in a delicate, intricate, and hypnotic dance.

*swish* *swish* *swish*

"Could you direct me to the rooms of... Hello?" She waved a hand in front of a blank face. "Anyone home? No?" With a sigh of disgust, she swished onwards.

*swish* *swish* *swish*

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find Professor Whittington-Smythe? Hello?" She delicately sniffed the air. "Oh, forget it."

*swish* *swish* *swish*

By now somewhat irate at the lack of courtesy shown her, she snapped to a halt beside a short, stumpy badger, with a mildly befuddled air of thought about him as he strolled along the arched walkway towards a sunny garden. He blinked, and turned to her as she stopped, raising one eyebrow above the glasses perched on his nose, his hands clasped behind his back.

"How might I be of service?" he intoned, politely.

"I need to find Professor Sir Whittington-Smythe. Can you direct me to his rooms?" The request shot out.

"Why, certainly, my lady. Just this way." He said, indicating back the way she, and he, had come, and offering her his elbow, waiting for her to take it, and then sauntering back down the walkway. As they went, he continued the conversation. "Might I enquire as to your business with the good professor?"

"I'm afraid I cannot say."

"Ah, I see." The tone in his voice indicated comprehension of the delicately unstated rules, and he immediately changed the subject to the sunny weather, with minor commentary on the odd puddles spread here and there along their way.

As the conversation evolved into a comparison of various types of tea, they reached a junction, took the slightly less busy path, and strolled on up to a smaller building, where he opened the door and bowed her through, then directed her down the corridor and to the left, into a smallish office, the walls lined with bookshelves - one or two sealed with thin cloth, and extremely thick enchantments, so that the contents, whatever they were, were not visible - and whiteboards, many either scrawled all over or covered with more thin cloth. Once inside, he turned to her, and offered tea, along with cucumber sandwiches or chocolate biscuits, of her choice, then sat in the armchair beside her, his own cup of tea cupped delicately in his left paw.

"So. What can I do for you, Admiral the Countess West-Hollow? I presume it involves the letter you seem so reluctant to relinquish."

[Tipod]

"Hahaha, haha, woooww--" Of all the classes of train crash, "fiery" was the one Bartholomew Thom'sen liked best. He absolutely loathed the smell of roasted flesh and agonized shrieks of scorched passengers, but it was just so satisfying being one of the few flameproof people on board. And in the wake of destruction and death, he couldn't help but laugh. "Ho-ly shit, ahaha." He backed away from the smoldering wreckage carefully, both hands clutching his hairless head. This was some setback.

Debris had torn a few holes in his armored jacket, and his precious backpack almost got buried beneath tons of steel and wood (hell, he almost ended up beneath several thousand pounds of detritus), but he managed to get out in one piece. And now he was stranded with what other hardy survivors were left. Looked like he was legging it unless the conductor survived along with some manner of distress equipment: flares, crystal balls, magic mirrors, anything.

Maaan, don't tell me bugs have earthquake tech now... Let this be Mother Nature screwing over innocent people, please.

[techmaster-glitch]

   "Alright. You got it?"
  "Yeah, I got it."
  The morning sun fell on a small trade road on the very fringes of Aelisium, where it became difficult to tell if the towns were really part of Aelisium or not. On the side of the road, a large four-legged machine squatted, with two "arms" folded up in front and an arched "tail" on the back. In the crook of the tail, there was what looked like a seat or cockpit of some kind. The bottom of said cockpit had a hatch that opened into the innards of the mech. The body of someone was half in and half out of this hatch; only the legs sticking out into the seat were visible, while the torso was well inside the great machine. Underneath the mech, a large panel was opened, and there was a second person who's upper body also disappeared into the mech's interior. Inside the mech, the voices of the two people reverberated around, though there was no way they could see each other through the myriad mechanisms.
  "You sure? This system is going to slam back into place hard once I let it, and if you're not holding onto that gearshaft like I said, not only will it not reengage properly, it could take your arm off or something."
  "Yes, I'm sure, just let it go already."
  "Alright...one, two, three!"
  CLANG!
  "AGH! My hand! Oh gawd, my hand!"
  The body half sticking out of the rear cockpit suddenly jolted, and started extracting itself from the inside of the mech.
  "GAAK! Gaak, are you okay?!" The beaver Being shouted as he managed to get out of the bottom of the cockpit and lean over the side of the mech, desperate to know what had happened.
  The other Being, also a beaver, appeared out from under the side of the mech, clutching a rag to the stump of an arm, gasping in pain. The mind of the Being up top instantly shifted into overdrive, bypassing shock and the natural "this can't be happening" reflex and thinking How bad is it, really? Can the hand be reattached? Can we find one of those rumored prostheticists? Can I make a prosthetic? I think... cycling through every possible "what if" scenario, genuinely concerned for the other's well-being.
   The Being down low then began pulling the rag off of his severed hand...to reveal that it wasn't severed at all, and merely a trick of perception. His "cries" turned to laughter.
  The first Being's metal processes immediately crashed, every scenario scattering away, and the concern he felt vanishing. His face also changed, going from shock to fury. "Why you little-" He picked up a rather large wrench and chucked it with considerable force at the other, who barely managed to dodge, and quickly lost his mirth.
  "Whoa, Gezz! It was a joke!"
  "It was not funny." Gezzemocht glared down at his younger brother with an unwavering gaze.
  Gaakronacht shuffled uneasily, until he was forced to lower his own gaze in shame. After a few moments, he looked back up. "So...is it working now?"
  Gezzemocht rolled his eyes and replied with a small amount of lingering irritation. "Yeah, the right-rear-leg shouldn't be sticking anymore."
  The older brother then climbed down from the back cockpit to the ground, and helped his younger brother crank the large and heavy armored panel back into place on the belly of the Storm Scorp. They then stowed their tools away, and retrieved their familiar attire; pilot's light armor, with Gaak putting on a vest over his outfit, and Gezz putting a tool-bandolier over his. They both got back up into the Storm Scorp; the older brother Gezzemocht returning to the rear cockpit in the "tail", while the younger brother took the cockpit that was up front.
  The Vaponci brothers both performed several inscrutable actions together, pulling levers, checking valves, and other things. The Storm Scorp shuddered, emitting many clanking sounds as gears began turning. The clanking got faster, until it gave way to a low humming, grinding sound, and the Storm Scorp raised itself to its full height on its four legs. Gaakronacht manipulated some levers, and one by one, each leg lifted up and went through a range of motions. Both brothers watched each leg approvingly, and Gaak commented "Smooth as the day it was finished."
  Gaakronacht continued manipulating the levers, and each leg folded up against the side of the main body, resting the wheels mounted on the leg joints against the ground. More levers were pulled, and the sounds of the mech shifted. It then started moving along on the four wheels; slow at first, but quickly gaining speed.
  The brothers had just finished up several "contracts" at the town they were just at; due to the increase in raids among small border towns--many which were not important enough to warrant a military presence, nor possessing enough money to hire a real mercenary or privateer company--had put out calls for any independents possessing of any kind of serious weaponry for defense. By paying on an individual basis and setting them to the same task, the towns were able to get entire groups of various border-warriors and independent engineers in an affordable way. Gezzemocht fondly recalled the last town; they had met another Aelisian engineer who had created an exceptional suit of clockwork armor for himself. Gezzemocht had eyed that suit enviously, desiring very much to take it apart and see how it worked, and he knew the fellow engineer had eyed their Storm Scorp with a similar envy. Eventually, they and the others in the group had rooted out a pirate band that had been harassing nearby settlements with stolen tech.
  After that was done, all the "independent mercenaries" had dispersed in different directions. The Vaponci brothers were heading to another nearby town that had sent messengers telling of similar troubles. The brothers wondered who they would meet when they got there, or if no others like themselves had arrived, or if whatever troubles the town were having had already been solved.

[Arroyo Milori]

All was calm at sea as the Sevastia' Nyad's West port was in view. Arroyo took off his goggle visor as he squints at the nearby land. He pulled on a cord, which made the horn low-pitch sound to signal those at the port of the incoming boat.

Arroyo was familiar with these waters seeing that he travels by sea a lot. He looked up at the departing airships, smiling as he waves at them. "If only i had enough money to get that kind of an upgrade..." He swiped the sweat off his head. He pulled the cord for the horn once more as a extra precaution for those departing.

Arroyo adjusted the strap holding his coat closed and brush back his mane as he readies his boat to be docked at the harbor. Arroyo soon turned off the motor for the boat as soon as he was near the docks. The boat stopped perfectly at where it should be.

Arroyo then got down to the deck of the boat, and anchors the boat tightly with a chain to the docks. Perfectly secure. Next her puts a lock on the door to the inside of his boat and the little trap door to the controls of the boat which also lead to the inside as well.

He stuffed the key into his coat pocket and zips up the pocket securely, stepping off the boat and onto the dock. A bit wobbly his legs were, though that was common after being out at sea for a while.

He then tapped a finger on his chin for a bit. "Perhaps I should head to the market...or see if anyone is willing to give me a mission of some sort for money of course." He strolled off the docks and soon into the port's town.

[Kafzeil]

Lucy's eyes fluttered open, a sliver of light reaching her from her resting place in the back alley. She was leaning against the wall, now facing red brick, and a beaten up set of trash cans beside her, with an assortment of trash laying on the pavement.

Lucy groaned, reaching to rub her forehead, but encountered some resistance. Something was on her chest.

The feline's face froze in horror as she looked down at it. Her shirt and vest was covered in blood, and rising out from the middle of her chest was a ornate handle. She felt like vomiting upon realizing that something was now lodged in her chest. How the Hell was she still alive?

The alternative, however, was far, far more frightening. With both hands, Lucy grabbed the handle, giving it a careful but firm yank.

The blade came out almost effortlessly, not an ounce of pain, only a oddly small amount of blood seeped from the wound. The knife glinted eerily in the morning sun, it was of a heavily ornate design, but still sturdy and functional, the engravings hinting at a ritualistic purpose. The blade's size, however, was the most alarming, as it would have likely pierced her heart quite easily.

Lucy began to stand up, still holding the knife. The events of last night came flooding back. The three men, the bite, and finally, her murder.

Congrats Lucy, you finally went in over your head, and you're a Zombie now! At least you still have your wallet.

She needed to stay hidden She was shit creek without a paddle now. If she was discovered now...

She shuddered. Well, on the bright side, she couldn't feel pain anymore.

[insidexml]

Pitter patter pitter patter. Sikici watched the rain fall gently, having taken shelter underneath a nearby tree to avoid getting wet. It wasn't as if he really had that much of a problem with being soaked by the rain. In a way, this was one way to get a quick bath, which was rather useful if one didn't happen upon a creek or river or other body of water to bathe in. On the other hand, Sikici did not exactly have that many clothes left to spare, so getting this set wet probably would not help him very much. Furthermore, all of his stuff would get wet, and most of his belongings did not operate correctly when wet, or at the least, not at their peak efficiency.

Well, at least it wasn't raining very hard. Sikici could have probably used magic to block the incoming rain and preventing himself or his belongings from getting wet, but why bother using that to do something so mundane? It was better to just sit here and relax. Besides, he could enjoy the view. Not that there was anything of particular interest to see, but seeing as how Sikici needed to convince himself that he was not bored, he was determined to prove that there was indeed something interesting out there to watch, and since the view was there, by the gods he was going to enjoy it.

This kept him entertained for the lump sum of five seconds, at which point he figured that if in that amount of time he had not discovered anything worthwhile, then perhaps there really was nothing worthwhile out there. Of course, Sikici could have just kept on watching. But why would he go and do something like that?

He looked around. Nobody seemed to be using this small dirt road, although at this point it was just a line of mud across the ground. Then again, some fog had rolled into the area, so it was not as if he could really see all that far. Still, nothing but mud and rain and fields as far as he could see.

So Sikici sat there, wondering if the rain would stop or just fall harder.

[Ashen Star]

"Officer on field!"  Bellowed the Field Sergeant as Ashlynn stepped from her Spartan quarters out on to the flat training green behind the barracks.  The grizzled wolf received a nod from her and then shouted, "Form up ranks, lads and lasses!  Now!  Now!  Now!"  Spot inspections were one of her many tasks.  She counted under her breath the seconds it took for the forty men and women to fall into five rows of eight.  Pouteux Bree wasn't on the battle front.  It maintained four four man flak guns and a lightning cannon to deter raiders and the occasional pirate.  There were always problems in the hinterlands, but thankfully Pouteux Bree was a quiet community.

Ashlynn walked from soldier to soldier.  No less than thirty seconds to each.  One complement.  Two criticisms.  A smile and nod and a salute received.  Move on.  Rarely a criticism was exchanged for an outstanding with soldiers who looked exemplarity.  The war was a constant reality, but most of her soldiers were untried in combat.  She hoped to spare them that as long as possible.  "Crews A, B, and D are going to pull an extra two hours for gun maintenance.  Crews C and E are to be on yellow alert while they're on work.  No reports of hostiles or enemy activity in our area.  Off crews are to make sure the barracks and grounds are in order.  Crew exchange will happen at five bells."

"Yes ma'am!"  They said almost in unison, most of them staring straight ahead.  Most.  She noted a ferret trying to catch a look at her left eye.  She could feel it rotate slowly in her socket.  He jumped at her artificial organ looked right at him, fixing him for a second.

"Dismissed!"  She barked, and the sergeants went about getting the crews going in the right direction.  "Corporal Vitts.  Remain."  The ferret froze as the rest of the squad dispersed to get about their duty.  Ashlynn brushed her power blue uniform's sleeve, removing an imagined speck of dust.  The ferret couldn't have been older than eighteen.  She looked down at him, her eye clicking softly as she stared at him for a long few seconds, her lips a practiced neutral set.  "Is something the matter, corporal?"

"Ma'am, no ma'am."  He blurted as he kept his eyes level at her breast.  She'd heard more than enough gossip to know that her men didn't regard her sexually.  Or if they did they were wise enough to keep it to themselves.  She looked at him a moment longer, her arm clicking softly as her finger tapped on her elbow.
"Dismissed."  She said finally, and he saluted, turned on heal, and marched as fast as he could without running.

"Was that really necessary, lieutenant?"  Her captain said behind her.  The elderly griffin had been a veteran of many campaigns.

"Sir?"  She turned, frowning as she thought about the exchange.

"You practically hit him across his face with your hand."  He said kindly as he folded his hands behind his back.  "Was it necessary?"

Ashlynn didn't know quite what to say.  "I'm sorry sir."

"You're a fair officer, Lieutenant.  The men listen to you and follow you, but you don't have to alienate them by pointing out your disability."  He fluttered his wings as he shook his head.  "In any case, that's not why I wanted to talk with you.  I wanted to notify you that there's been more reports of banditry.  With our numbers here so depleted we may have to resort to outside means."  Ashlynn pressed her lips together.  Outside means translated to hiring mercenaries.  "If so, I'll need an officer to supervise."

"Sir."  She said with a salute.  Lieutenant Caplain was her senior.  It was better to accept gracefully than to be assigned grudgingly.

"Thank you, Lieutenant.  I hope that it proves unnecessary.  Dismissed."

[SquirrelWizard]

Stephan looked up at the roof of his wagon as he lay on his cot. The sharp staccato tone of his clock permeated his thoughts, each tick steadily marking the flow of time. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, he just didn't feel tired, and had spent a better part of the night thinking. His thoughts had wandered far and wide. From his father's sudden disappearance, the death of his mother, and how little he knew about Incubuses; what to expect as one. Most importantly he was thinking about what the future would hold. Stephan idly toyed with his back wings as he waited for the clock to chime the hour.

tick... tock... tick... tock... tick... clang... wait, clang?

With an audible crack a metal disc ripped through the wall of Stephan's wagon, smashed his clock, and embedded itself into the wall. Stephan shielded himself from the flying debris that had been his clock, and rolled off his cot. Outside his cart he heard Mary running up to his door, "Oh gods... please be alright." He reached over and pulled on a pair of pants, just in time for the door to his wagon to fly open.

Mary rushed into his room with a helmet on her head and glanced around apprehensively, "Stephan are you okay?"

Stephan smiled and shook his head, "I'm fine," he reached over and tugged the disc out of the wall, "though my clock has seen better days."

Mary was visibly relieved and she took the disc from him, "Sorry, I was trying to fix a meat cutter. I didn't know the blade would ricochet like that."

Stephan chuckled, "Fix or weaponize?"

His teasing caused Mary to smirk, "I'm just trying to get the blade set, I cant help it if it was designed with that much power behind it."

"Well, I'm up. A whirling blade of death flying through the wall and obliterating my clock makes for an interesting wake up call. I've got  to head into town and talk to the stage manager about the show, why don't we grab some breakfast in town while we're at it? Maybe we can get one of those danishes you like so much."

Mary turned and exited the wagon, "Fine... fine... you don't have to twist my arm," and shut the door behind her and left for her wagon.

Now that he had a moment to himself, Stephan walked over to a full length mirror. He closed his eyes and started muttering the words of a spell under his breath. There was an intense burning sensation as his wings folded into his back. He took a moment to catch his breathe, and then looked himself over in the mirror. Without his back wings he resembled a slightly handsome, yet completely normal, squirrel looking being. The only mark he couldn't hide was a blue tattoo on the back of his right hand that resembled an archaic eye. One of his few things his father had told him, was that this mark, his clan mark, couldn't be hidden with magic. Satisfied with his appearance he got dressed, and with a fluid motion he put on his hat. Stephan opened the door to his wagon and stepped out into the morning air, a couple of minutes later Mary joined up with him, and together they headed off to town.

[Ghostwish]

High above the border between Voethfel and Nhylamar, a passenger airship flew steadily through the skies, carrying an assortment of passengers. Aboard was Challam, of Seme, standing on the deck of the vessel, well out of the way of the crew. He was leaning on the safety rail, watching the clouds drift by and ground roll underneath. Both sets of his wings were out, and his gloves were sticking out of his back pocket.

He sighed wistfully to himself, idly fluttering his headwings for but a moment as his thoughts drifted from past, to present, and then vanished into the future. He stood up straight, eyes still upon the scenery, and took a moment to adjust the rifle that was strapped across his back, laying across the backpack-like chamber which supplied it's power.

His mind slowly drifted back to the academy from which he was now returning. He had met many an odd character, and seen many a strange thing, but such was to be expected from what had to be the largest den of head-winged dingbats ever to exist. He had learned many, many things, far more than he had initially expected, and it had been a pleasant surprise. He had also met many of his adoptive family, for Seme held a considerable presence at the school, seeing how it also doubled as recruiting grounds, what with all the stray clan cubi about. A century or so worth of classes, an excellent academic record, and now he was returning to his home. But what was he returning to?

He paused a moment in his thoughts to give a friendly wave to a passing crew member. He made it a point to be cordial and polite, even to strangers, for it was a sound practice in his experience, simply because it was a contagious practice.

As the crew went about their work, his mind sat between the here and now, and the soon to come. He was coming home, at last, but he did not know what awaited him. He worried of the political matters involved. He was a citizen, yes, but he had been gone for a measured time, and into the territory of no friend of his home, no less. There was also no telling what had changed, who had changed. The being presence would have surely not slacked under the furious whip of time. He found himself lost in his attempts to discern the future.

Time would tell, or so his theory went. He settled on going back to enjoying the scenery, while the clouds rolled by.

[Tezkat]

Tezkat stretched out and yawned. He brushed frilly silk undergarments from his face--hardly an unusual way to wake up, but there seemed to be a few too many pairs for one night's adventures. He sat up. Alice's trunk had come open and spilled its contents everywhere. Strange, as he'd secured it for her himself just last night. An explanation presented itself almost immediately: The cabin was upside down.

"Ky, why am I on the ceiling?" He brushed shards of the crystal chandelier from his fur.

His familiar had taken the form of a hummingbird and was buzzing frantically around the cabin.

"Earthquake! Train derailed! Alice is dead!"

That would explain the scores of panicked voices screaming in his head. The flood of succulent pain and terror energized him far more than any breakfast in the dining car, but why did they all have to be so damned loud?

The first rays of dawn streamed across the body of his travelling companion. She might still have been sleeping if not for the obviously broken neck. At least she was peaceful and quiet.

"Damn. I rather liked her. Now who's going to pay for the trip?" Tezkat sighed and rolled over onto the pile of clothing, rubbing his temples. "It's barely sunrise. Wake me up around noon."

"The car is on fire!"

A crackling oak panel fell from the wall, setting his makeshift bedding aflame.

"Fuck." Tezkat flicked smouldering sparks off his trousers. "Fine. I'm getting up."

Grabbing his sword and gun belt, he looked around for salvageable clothing. His leather boots and coat appeared to be intact, but the rest of his wardrobe was proving considerably more flammable. He'd have to find a shirt and waistcoat elsewhere.

Demonbane slashed once, twice, thrice, and a swath of the train's side fell open. Tezkat stepped out into pastoral countryside suddenly marred by a conflagration of twisted metal. He sheathed the blade and took off at a lope towards the cargo cars at the rear where he'd stored his bike.

[Paladin Sheppard]

Dawn found Paige's slumped form in the local drunk tank, sadly a place she had been in quite often in the last two weeks. The local constabulary had no problem collecting her from whatever bar she had collapsed in, very few of the local drunks came so willingly or without violence, plus she was very easy on the eyes for the night-shift.

Paige found herself laying on her stomach, and blew some of her hair out of her face as a hand groped around for a glass of water the officers had started setting out for her. Groaning she could not reach the glass and rolled over on to her side and swung her legs over the edge, as she slowly sat up an ungodly headache burst inside her head, reminding her of the rather large bottle of vodka she had consumed the night before.

The contents of her stomach hurtled towards her throat after all this movement and she barley made it to the bucket near her bed.

"Morning Ms Nova, have a nice nap?" A male voice from the doorway asked in an amused tone to which Paige raised a hand and extended a middle finger "I'll take it as a no then!" The voice said, as Paige lifted her head and stared daggers at the feline Constable, but then her features softened.

"I didn't cause too much trouble did I Vince?" She said as she finally found the water glass and sipped at it.

[Tapewolf]

Seth parked in the street, warded the bike (carefully putting the combustion chamber into stasis to keep it 'alight') and made his way into a machine shop.  Inside a Demon-winged Doberman was working at some intricate piece of clockwork.  He looked up, and noticing another incubus, the horns on his head warped slightly and became a set of bat-like headwings.

"Hi Seth," he said.  "What can I do for you?  And have you heard the news?"

Sethir removed a small gear train from his backpack and handed it over.  "Stripped," he said.  "Reckon you can build a replacement?"

"A control mechanism," the Doberman said.  "It'll take a few days but it shouldn't be too hard.  For you... 10% off."  Seth smiled.  Dorcan had been his business partner when his machine shop had first opened, but had much more of an interest in small, precision mechanisms than Seth and had decided to set up on his own.

"What were you saying about news?" Seth asked.

"The earthquake."

"A magnitude 3 quake is hardly news."

"It was more than that at the epicentre.  They say it's derailed a train on the wilderness line, caused some horrible accident.  I hear they're still looking for people to help."

"I might check it out," Seth ventured.  "...but surely you remember the roleplaying sessions at the Academy.  Once I head out there a horrible plot to destroy the world will no doubt manifest itself and I'll be sucked into some nonstop adventure.  Best I not go there at all, so the world remains safe," he grinned.

"Well, if you're not back to collect this, I'll know what happened," Dorcan said.

"I'm sure Nickelsohn can take care of it," Seth said, and headed out, banishing his wings and putting the helmet back on his head.  The humanitarian in him was calling out to visit the site and offer any assistance an incubus could, but there was something he needed to do first while he was in the area.

Seth rode to the main square of the capital and removing his helmet, stood before the clock which had been erected to celebrate the current millennium.  Although the drive mechanism itself was powered by a series of weights on a chain, the backup power source and the illumination were magic.  As he gazed up at it, the light briefly brightened.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

[Noone]

Kyirri arose uneasily. The smell of mold on the walls, the sound of others bustling in the slums in which he took residence, the taste of rotten air as it went through his mouth. All were things he could get at least temporary reprieve from when he shut his eyes for a night's rest. The morning came with feelings of unease, and unpleasant ponderings. He had to wonder whether he'd be able to pay for food, whether he'd be thrown out of his abysmal home if rent increased. Whether he'd be mugged on the way to his lousy job, whether his place would be robbed if he stepped away for a moments notice. All were concerns for many in the place where he had lived.

He slowly prepared himself for getting ready to go to work. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to keep what tiny amount of money he had with him or hidden at home, he could have himself mugged or his property robbed very easily. He walked over to the door of his one room apartment. It was barely hanging on it's hinges, even a moderately strong person would be able to smash it down effortlessly. The only protection his place offered from robbery is that it was thankfully sized to beings of his size, which means larger beings would have to crouch to stay inside. He figured it was that size to cut down on space, and not to provide any safety. He scraped together what he had and headed out.

The streets were as rancid as his home, and didn't even pretend to offer any pretenses of security. He knew full well that thugs and criminals in reality controlled the streets, and that any would break his legs to take what little he had. Twas daily life in the slums of Nhylamar. The law of the land barely had any say here, as far as he was concerned. They wouldn't care about the well-being of one sickly-looking, destitute rodent anyways. The real power, in his eyes, was held in the hands of criminal gangs, and only slightly less criminal industrialists with their own arrays of goons. Dealing with any of them meant death, either quick or slow.

Getting to his job was a trying enough exercise.  It required patience, perception, and skill. Being caught by the wrong person would mean getting robbed or injured. He wasn't really equipped to ward off a larger being as well, much less a creature. Still, he could move quickly and quietly, and had good eyes and ears for predators.

Kyirri breathed a sigh of relief after getting to where his job was. He managed to get there early, he always did try to leave early, being delayed in trying to avoid goons sometimes took some time. Still, he didn't think too much about it as he rushed over to the door, raising his ears to check for any last minute surprises, then opened it up and paced inside.

[Gabi]

Soon, everyone would be talking about the earthquake. But the truth is nothing noteworthy happened in Lamylar that day. Anabelle wouldn't have even noticed it, had it not been for Steph, the 7-year-old wombat.

The girl had been playing rough games with her friends again and had ended up falling off a tree. When her parents brought her for a quick check-and-fix, she was having trouble walking and was trying hard not to cry.

"You're lucky," the witch told her when she was done with the examination. "A sprained ankle's not so bad. It could have been far worse. Now hopefully you'll learn your lesson and something really bad won't have to happen."

Anabelle applied some cold straps on the sprained ankle to reduce the swelling while deciding how much magic she should use. Too little, and the pain would take weeks to go, plus the girl could get impatient and hurt herself again before it could fully heal. Too much, and she'd forget about the pain and get careless again - and if healing magic was used too frequently, there was the chance that her body could become dependant and forget how to heal itself. "Now, if only your parents would keep a close watch on you while you play outside, things would be much easier for us both," she thought. She'd have to talk to them about it at some point, but so far she'd never managed to think of a way that would neither offend them nor allow them to shrug it off with another "we're too busy to watch her all the time and don't have the money to afford a full-time nanny".

Anabelle sighed, and decided her next course of action. The immediate future was easier to decide. She'd numb the pain enough to allow the girl to walk but not run, take care of the swelling, make the ligament hold together, apply a firm bandage and let the girl's body take care of the rest. She'd check her again 2 days later and, if things were going well, she'd finish the job. Otherwise, if Steph made a bad move and messed up the witch's work, she'd switch to regular healing which would take as long as it would take. She wouldn't be responsible for ruining the girl if she turned out to be one of those who can only learn things the hard way. Which hopefully wouldn't be the case. After all, it was the first time she was coming with something worse than scratches and bruises.

Steph was already feeling better when Anabelle started wrapping up the bandages. That was clear because she was already looking around, pointing at things and asking questions. She was quite a curious girl. Then the unexpected question came.

"Why are your potions moving like that? Is it magic?"

Anabelle had to turn around to see what the girl was looking at. The potions stocked up on the drawers against the wall were indeed making small waves. That wasn't supposed to happen. It certainly hadn't happened before.

"I think they're trying to tell me something," she replied. "You know what? I'll figure it out when you go home and tell you what it is when you come back the day after tomorrow. OK?"
"Do potions talk?"
"They speak the language of things. You have to pay a lot of attention to understand what they're saying. If you watch carefully, every object can tell you something."

That seemed to do it. The girl was impressed, and seemed to forget about the pain completely. At least she'd have something to do while she was forced to stay at home for two days. Her 'homework' was to take a careful look at something she used everyday, and learn something from it. Annie wondered what the girl would come up with. Children were usually full of surprises. She also wondered whether she'd be able to figure out what was going on within the next 2 days.

But then, 2 days later everyone was talking about the earthquake as if it had been the most impressive thing they'd ever seen or heard of. Some were even saying there was magic behind it, or talking about some kind of secret weapon. There were a few who claimed that the balance of nature had been upset and now the land itself was striking back. Lots of weird stories, nothing concrete. Anabelle was unable to figure out what the cause of the earthquake had been; but then again, it had been hardly even noticeable in Lamylar.

[SpottedKitty]

Zelah Marazanvose hadn't slept. Of course not: the reddish-tabby cat wasn't sure how long it had been since the last time she'd gone to bed expecting to sleep, or even dream. At least a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty... or could it be more? Nowadays she just used the time to rest, or plan, or worry, if there wasn't anything else that needed doing through the night. She sighed, sat up in bed, claw-combed her mop of short green hair into some sort of order, and stretched. Arms, shoulders, tail, backwings, and finally her headwings, although the airship cabin was really too small to let her spread her leathery green wings to their full span.

The 'Cubi wondered idly where she was now: engine noise still hummed through the walls, so the airship hadn't docked anywhere. I wish I'd studied Nhylamar's geography a bit more, she thought. OK, I was in a bit of a hurry getting out of Aeliseium, but "far enough away I've never heard of the place at the far end of the line" isn't always such a great way to choose where to run to. Are Nhylamar's airships any faster than ours? For all I know, I'm half way to Voethfel. First thing, then, check the timetable and find a map. Her sense of time told her it should be about time for morning mass... no, she wouldn't be going to any services for a long time. Maybe never again.

Zelah slipped off the bed, folded her wings, and looked over her fur in the little mirror behind the cabin door, checking to see if it needed any extra grooming. And also to make sure she hadn't shifted any bits of her body and not noticed: that sometimes happened when she was tired and upset, and she'd been tired and upset for nearly a week now. Then she went through the familiar routine of sorting her clothes into two piles. Her magical talent was well rested, mostly unaffected by her agitation, so it only took a little effort to hide both pairs of wings. The green mark on the side of her chest glowed softly for a few seconds. And then a little more effort. One hand reached out and hesitated over the piles of clothes, picked up the one with a bra neatly folded on top, and put it into the travelling bag on the floor beside the bed.

A short time later, the cabin door opened and Zelah stepped out into the corridor, washed, groomed, and (hopefully) ready for whatever the new day might bring. The clothes he wore now were better suited for travel than what he'd been wearing for the last several days: good boots, rugged trousers and jacket, both warm, lots of pockets to hide his weapons if he needed them. Time to find out where he was, and where he could go now. For the moment, the disguised 'Cubi hoped only not to meet too many spooky Creatures, at least not too often before he got up on deck...

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Dr. Adelaide Montegu stood in the open doorway of the St. Vesalius hospital in the town of Sleepy Grove. Her arms crossed and her fingers tapping against the embroidered medical insignia on the sleeve of her long white uniform coat, it was unclear if she was trying to glare away the foggy rain or wish it thicker to blot out the town in front of her. Adelaide sighed and ruffled her wings. When she had been transferred here she thought a town that straddled three countries would be vibrant and busy. Instead it was a dirt road town that none of the three countries seemed to want to claim. Nothing ever happened beyond an occasional baby being born or an elder passing on. The knights stationed here were old and crippled. And Adelaide thought she was slowly going mad from boredom.

[Lisky]

Academy

Sitting in the office, the vixen idly mulled over what the badger had said.  She had to admit, she saw no lie in his face, no signs of deceit.  A subtle smirk, and a slight nod of understanding.  "Sir Whittington-Smythe, I'm here on diplomatic business, not military.  Countess alone would work fine, or Aleyna if you'd prefer informality.  We're sending a diplomatic entourage to Voethfel in an attempt to build better relations, and from everything we've been discussing, you would make an excellent candidate to join the team.  That is, if you'd be willing to help out your people."

She extended the letter gently.  Her movements smooth and calculated. In fact, if he'd had any experience with her at all, he'd suspect everything about her was intentional and made to seem alluring.  The seductive, low cut, and backless dress.  The way her lips always carried just the slightest bit of pout.  Her seemingly at-ease-ness with the total bi-polarity society treated her, how the population was either terrified or smitten with her.

Her pout faded, and a polite, dainty flash of teeth replaced it.  "If you're willing to help my airship leaves in a little over an hour, it might not be much time, but we would be very grateful for your services.  Your help would be rewarded handsomely, and you could consider it a personal favor as well."


Aeliseium Town

The drive was uneventful, a few airships passed overhead, mostly civilian traffic.  Traders coming to and from the outskirt villages.

As the large machine rolled to the edge of town, everything seemed normal.  The gate was locked, there were no signs of smoke or any conflict at all.  The guard in the lower was carrying a large-bore repeating rifle.  He sighted the machine, and a finger could be seen working the hammer near the grip.  "Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?"

At the range, both brothers could clearly see that he was wearing an infantry long-coat, and had some type the NCO armband, a blue stripe running the length of both sleeves.  His face however was completely featureless, hidden behind a standard issue gas-mask.

However, the sounds of heavy footsteps were audible over the normal clanking of the machine.  Someone was probably getting whoever was in charge.

(meanwhile, in the officer's quarters)
A runner, A feline of some type, brown and gray, knocked on the officer's door and said politely, "Sir, we've got visitors.  Someone's way out this way with a full mech... Might be the mercs we're waiting for, but it might be best if you come to the southern wall, Sir."


Sevastia'Nyad Western Port

If the feline had been paying attention, he may have noticed the second boat pull in shortly after him.  The man's gaze seemed transfixed on the young being.  As Arroyo headed into town, the man seemed to follow at first, then disappeared down a back alley, between a bakery and machine shop.

The town itself was full of activity, people lining the streets, and shops of all kinds open for business.  In the center of town, and clearly visible to Arroyo, a job posting board, requesting adventurous souls to track down items of value.


Kyirri's Work

The trip had been surprisingly uneventful.  The usual slum-lords and local thugs were no where to be found.  In fact, the streets were fairly quiet.  The shops were open, and the owners seemed to be pleased at the lack of local thugs stealing from their businesses.

Just inside the door was a small shop, the walls and display area full of shelves.  Each shelf was filled, end to end, with what seemed to be haphazardly placed books and tomes.  The quality ranging from barely holding together, to expertly crafted pieces that probably seemed more at home in a museum.  Mr. Arklan had done well for himself, with his out of the way store.  In fact, his establishment was one of the most popular in the whole district, simply because of the rare parchment that stood atop those shelves.

The old looking Saint Bernard lazily moved from his counter to greet the roo-rat.  He'd been forced to take on an assistant when, on a job some years ago, something had destroyed his left knee beyond what even magic could repair.  The bone was fused solid, and he walked with a limp and cane.

"G'day Kyirri m'boy.  I know you've only been working delivers until now, but i think i've got something a little more... special... in mind, instead of your usual daily chores.  It'll fetch you twice your usual pay... and i'll give ya some travel coin as well if you're interested."

Kyirri could clearly see a slip of paper and a mid-sized bag of coins.  It probably contained more wealth than 3 months of food and rent for the little rodent.


The Drunk Tank

"can't say you did...  Then again, you're far from a mean drunk... Though i do have to wonder if that offer you made last night still stands."  The cougar flashed a toothy grin, then added a playful wink.  

"Anyways, Leofric, The Duke of this region, his son dropped something off for you..."  The feline reached into a pocket and produced a small envelope.  He unlocked the cell, and passed it to the wolf cubi as he made room for her to head out.


Aboard the airship(Challam)


Watching the clouds sail by, Callam suddenly caught a glimpse of a cloud that seemed... off.  It was too round, it was too gray.  It wasn't a cloud.  The nearby cloud-bank passed, revealing a mid-sized zeppelin.  It was painted a cloudy gray, with white wisps that imitated natural cloud formations.  Without any notice at all, clouds parted in a bright orange and yellow flash, and, almost at the same time, top of his own zeppelin burst into flames.

The deck below his feat lurched hard as the airship began nosing downwards.  An empty stretch of sandy beach below.  The pirate's main guns leveled on the falling airship, smaller sets of guns looking for anyone trying to leave the falling wreck.  A higher-pitched *Crack* *Crack* *Crack*  could be heard, as long-range scatter guns peppered the handful of creatures who charged the assaulters.

Train Crash

The sheer panic had put everyone on edge, yet also left them completely disoriented.  Any would-be gangs or ruffians were still too confused to make a break for the cargo-cars.

A half dozen random passengers followed Tez out of the slot he made in the roof, then continued to flee as the fire from the main engine began spreading to the cars behind it.

A few miles down the track, a small village could be seen.  It was supposed to be their next stop anyways.  An inconvenient walk, but no where near impossible, even without supplies.  In the other direction, an airship could be seen heading towards the smoky column rising still higher into the air.  The column making a clear signal that something bad had happened there.

Airship Cabin(Zelah)

As he left the cabin, Zelah would note the faint hum of the engines, the light wooshing noise of wind as the large vessel continued it's voyage.  A whistle sounded, then another.  There was some muffled noises coming from above.  The thoughts were garbled, blocked.  Though, the emotions were clear enough.  There was rage, fear, greed, someone felt lust, others were oddly focused, and yet a handful seemed to be locked in a prayer of some kind, emoting regret and a sense of loyalty at the same time.

Suddenly a thunderous roar came from above.  More voices, more panic.  The sound of footsteps above made it clear whatever had happened was already over.

Sleepy Grove

As if on cue, a young delivery man, wearing a journeyman's cloak appeared holding a sealed letter from the order.  He immidiately recognized the angel the description he'd been given and made a B-line for the Angel's current position.  He was a canine of some kind, a mutt by the looks of him, neither tall, nor overly strong looking.  The only thing that actually gave away his creature herritage was the clan symbol sticking through the cloak, emblazoned on the poor boy's shoulder, collar, and the left side of his neck.

He approached, huffing slightly, "I've *pants* I've been sent ahead to inform y... you... that there's an Air... ship coming to pick you up.  You're being transferred to a new hub."  He extended the letter, and, judging by the way he was heaving for breath, it looked like the young cubi might collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

Back Alley

The streets still seemed empty to Lucy, most if not everyone was still in morning mass.  That gave her maybe 10, 15 minutes to get out of the city walls, judging by the position of the sun.  Shop doors were still closed and locked.  The first church bell clanged, signaling the time of personal prayer.  10 minutes.  10 minutes is all she had to clear the 3 miles of city between her and the outer wall.  Either that, or at least find a decent change of clothes.  Hers were drenched crimson across the front, and would be a pretty clear sign something was up.


Lamylar

As Anabelle  finished her latest visitor, she could hear excited squeaks and squeals from various members of the people.  There was a strange man walking towards the town's gate.  He wore a military style tunic, his weapons clearly visible as he approached the sleepy border town.  He was a demon, judging by the size of the rifle, pistol and saber he carried, a younger one.  One who wasn't ready to completely forsake modern technology for the arcane.

He carried himself with a calm ease, despite obvious holes in wing.  As he grew closer, a very slight limp could be seen in his movements.  His tunic looked to be more tattered, and the blood-stains made it clear he'd seen very recent action.

Ana could clearly see this all happening, she could seem him start to stumble, then collapse just outside the gate as his strength failed.  His hand reached towards the gate of the town, grasping for help, though no voice could be heard, only grunts of pain.

Rain-soaked road

The rain choose to do neither, instead it stayed at it's constant patter, enough to soak the ground.  His path seemed to be heading  to the Sevastia'Nyad border, and approaching a good-sized city there as well.  The border would be friendly, that was obvious, Voethfel and Sevastia had a very good relation, officially anyways, with the sole exception of the pirates.

A Lower flying airship provided additional reprieve from the rain, as it followed the road to the city.  If one wished to, they could take an easy jog, and follow in it's shadow, avoiding the seemingly ever-present pitter-patter of rain Furrae had decided to bestow upon the region.  The mist seemed to be clearing as well, as, even though there was a light fog, one could still see through the faint mist a massive towers and high walls.  Or, at least their outlines.  It was the city of Yagsandras, a city housing several of the most prestigious arcane universities, and given it's location, a common place for merchants.  If one needed something, Yagsandras was a very good place to be.

City Streets

While heading down the streets, the first thing the pair would notice is that it seemed literally every creature they ran into was flaunting their heritage.  In fact, it was true... Literally every creature, whether demon, cubi, angel, mythos or in one case the fiery flesh of a phoenix, they all just stood out.  They didn't bother hiding who or what they were.  They carried on as most would expect being to.  Mind you, the one demon balancing a full-sized couch on one finger may have been a bit much, but most were just going about, either crafting various goods, providing useful services, or just out shopping.

A wide range of shops greeted the pair, both walk-in and street vendors were out to day.  A subtle ripple came through the city, and every seemed to pause, look towards the seeming source of the rumble, and, upon seeing nothing, a few seconds later, returned to what they'd been doing before the earthquakes shock wave had passed through.

[Arroyo Milori]

Arroyo felt slightly unease for a quick second, as if he was watched but then shrugged it off. His ears picked up some small talk among the merchants of news of an earthquake. Of course, Arroyo didn't feel an earthquake but then again he was probably out at sea during that time the earthquake struck. His ship was a bit wobbly on the way back to the port now that he recalled.

He shrugged and approaches the job bulletin board. His green eyes looked over the small posts in the board, there were a few involving using or required machinery. "Kind of hard to find a good job these days." He sighed, pulling out a small windup key and attaching it to one of his cuffs and started to twist as it, loosening the pressured mana flowing through his body and the cuff itself around his wrist, seeing it was beginning to be a bit tight. "Though earthquakes are common these days...why is this one any different?"He switched to the next cuff, clicking away at the winding. Then he stopped and pulled the windup key back to his pocket and then twisted a knob on both of the cuffs then smacks it down, causing a small hiss emitting from it, signaling that it was correctly calibrated.

The pressure gauge read 25%, which meant that 25% of his mana is suppressed. He shook his head and continues to look over the job board, reading it carefully for a job well suited for a being such as himself and his talents.

[Ghostwish]

"The hells..." Challam muttered quietly to himself, for the moment he spotted the airship, he wasn't quite sure what it was, or why it was painted so oddly..

BOOM.

Oh! Pirates! Lovely!

Be it instinct, or lessons from SAIA fresh in his mind, Challam immediately went for the cover of one of the masts while he brought his rifle out to the ready, and hit the gauge that would start the pressure building. As the weapon began to hiss to life, he unscrewed the cap on the scope, and removed the rubber lid on the eyepiece. And then he heard the tall-tale click of the pressure valve snapping into place, which was the sign that his weapon was ready to fire. The movement of extracting a round from his belt, unlatching the chamber, sliding the round in, and then re-latching the chamber seemed near instinct to him, which honestly surprised him. Besides a few practice rounds just to pass the odd free time, he had not used his rifle much in the last century. Some memories never fade, he thought to himself, as he quickly popped from cover and leveled the rifle.

The scope scanned the airship. He saw one of the scatter-gun wielding pirates. Just a moment to aim. He stopped breathing. A squeeze of the trigger.

The weapon let out a roaring hiss as excess steam flew from the muzzle, and a large round sailed through the air with frightening accuracy. One pirate's head exploded in a fascinating display of horrific gore. Challam grinned to himself, but as he listened to the hiss of the pressure valve going back to work, he realized he wasn't the only one who was aiming a shot. The pirate ship was as well.

"SHIT." Was all he could utter as he immediately broke from cover, and made a run for the opposite rail, away from the attacking pirate ship. He felt a pang of regret as he dove over the side, realizing that despite all that he had learned, there was nothing he could do to save the crew from the crash. He would have to continue this fight on the ground, as that seemed to be where the pirates were heading, otherwise they wouldn't have tried to crash her right away.

He didn't spread his wings, not yet. As he plummeted straight down, he used what magic he had to enact a magical shield around him, in case someone saw the incubus making taking a dive and decided he was a viable target. And so he headed for the beach below...

[techmaster-glitch]

Outside the Aelisium Town

  The rest of the drive towards the next town in the string of towns the Vaponci brothers had visited went smoothly, only passing beneath some civvie airships every now and then. Eventually, a town came into sight...although there was quickly some doubts that it was "the" town the brothers were looking for, as even from a distance, they signs of Aelisium military stationing was exceedingly obvious, especially to the brothers.
  As the Storm Scorp pulled up the the town's gate in wheeled mode, a lone guard pointed his weapon at them and demanded to know who they were and what they were doing.
  The Storm Scorp began unfolding itself (its legs at least, not the arms), getting off the wheels and back onto its feet, then turned its side towards the guard and the gate, bringing both brothers into full view.
  The both stood up straight at attention, snapping off a quick salute. The guard would easily tell that the two beavers were not pretending; even though they did not look like proper military, the nuances in the way they saluted suggested they must have had real experience at some point.
  Gezzemocht called down first (and further displayed his knowledge). "Take it easy, Sergeant. We're the brothers Vaponci, formerly in the 35th Mechanical Corps, engineer and developer's division-"
  "-And pilot and operator's division." Gaakronacht finished up.
  "As for what we're doing, um..." Gezzemocht glanced around. "I think we may actually be in the wrong town. We've been passing by various border towns that lack a military presence and rendering aid in countering banditry and raider activity. And, well...this town obviously does not lack a military presence..."
  Gaakronacht spoke up. "Uh...you weren't the ones who sent a messenger out to Copperbolt requesting external aid five days ago...right?"

[Kafzeil]

Lucy weighed her options, and headed back to her Office and Apartment.

The Facts were These: She had just missed the City Watch's Shift change by not a few minutes, and while the guards themselves may or may not have been praying, they'd still likely stop a bloodied woman, and either kill her outright or detain her for proper purge.

She'd likely barely have enough time to reach the gates. Thus far, a change of clothes and something to cover her eyes was he best bet. Hide in plain sight, essentailly.

Lucy bolted down the road way, sprinting her her office. The trp was likely to take only a few minutes, but changing would leave with an estimated three minutes of downtime. Though admittingly, she'd leave a note for mother to find.

Goddamn...talk about Karma...make my living rooting out Creatures and I find I'm turned into one. Well, good to see the Divine have a twisted sense of humour, isn't it?She mused to herself as she srpinted down the empty street, which, in about ten minutes would be full of shoppers.

[SquirrelWizard]

Their otherwise peaceful walk into the city was marred by the rattling of storefront windows and a tangible tremor as shockwave passed through the city.  Everybody stopped and peered off in the direction the wave seemed to come from.

"What was that?" Mary spoke aloud what everybody was thinking.

Stephan shaded his eyes and peered into the distance, "I'm not sure, hopefully it was just an earthquake."

Seemingly satisfied that whatever had happened wasn't going to cause any further interruptions the nearby laborers went back to their task; content to speculate amongst themselves about the cause of the ruckus. Meanwhile Stephan and Mary continued down the street in search of a cafe.

"So, all knowing one, do you really think it was an earthquake?" Mary idly made conversation as they walked down the street with a devilish grin on her face.

Stephan shrugged, "Well, I don't hear any sirens, so I doubt it was an explosion." He gave her a sly look, "Though it could be the growling of your stomach... We better get you some food in you before you bring the city down on our heads."

"Oh hardy har. I didn't know you were a doing a stand up comedy act as well." Mary pointed down the street at a small cafe with an outdoor patio, "Hey, that looks good, lets try that."

As they approached they saw that the sign over the cafe was shaped into a circular looking shell with the words "Sun Dollar Cafe" across it. On the patio were several tables positioned to allow customers to enjoy their meal outside which, considering the marvelous weather, was a rather tempting idea. Given its idyllic setting, it was rather devoid of customers.

"Pardon me, Miss, I was wondering if you were open for breakfest." Mary approached the mouse being who was upending whatever had been knocked over during the tremor.

The mouse looked up and smiled, "Of course, it'll take more than a bit o' shak'n ta shut us down. I'm Sunny. Please, take a seat anywhere ya'll like. Can I get'cha something ta drink ta start out?"

Both Mary and Stephan sat down at the nearest table. Sitting down brought them about eye to eye with the four foot tall Sunny and it quickly became apparent that Sunny was aptly named for her fiery red hair, and friendly disposition. Stephan glanced over at Mary, "I think I'll just settle for a cup of coffee, black, how about you?" he glanced up at his sister.

Mary thought for a second then seemed to make up her mind, "I'll just have a cappuccino with some cocoa powder on top if you have it."

Sunny smiled, "Alright, I'll give ya'll a moment ta figg'er out what'cha want fer breakfast," she handed out a couple of menus.

Meanwhile, a Feline demon stepped out of the shop wearing an apron. The demon was huge, so much that he had to duck to get through the door. His voice was something you'd expect roaring in blood rage on the battlefield. It was deep, dark, and rumbled ominously like the first few pebbles of an avalanche, but with none of the malice, "So, what are they having?"

Sunny looked up, "One coffee, black, an one cappuccino with cocoa powder. Korlos, honey, could'ja be a peach an get started on that? I still need ta tidy up out here." Korlos nodded in acknowledgement and stepped back into the shop. Meanwhile Sunny beamed at Stephan and Mary, "That was Korlos, my husband, he's not much fer conversation but he's always helpful."

[insidexml]

It would seem that the rain was not going to be doing anything exciting soon. A light shower was falling, not enough to be called a torrential rain, but enough to thoroughly soak somebody who was wandering within it long enough. At this rate, Sikici would be unable to get to Yagsandras anytime soon. Then again, it wasn't as if the angel was in any particular rush to get there. He was not meeting anybody, to his knowledge, and it was not as if he desperately needed supplies. Sikici had merely decided that it might be worth his time to wander around Yagsandras, and so he had decided to go there. Perhaps there would be a few trinkets or items within the city walls that would catch his interest. Who knew? With the number of merchants that were supposed to be within those walls, there was bound to be at least something of interest. Now, whether or not Sikici would be able to afford that trinket was another matter entirely.

He could see the city from where he was sitting, if only faintly. So close, and yet so far! Yet, he couldn't be bothered to do something to stop the rain from getting him wet. How lucky for the angel, as he spotted an airship making its way towards the city. Of course, Sikici did get a little wet running from the tree he was under to underneath the airship, but at least he was moving towards his destination. He did have to jog, but it was not as if he was so out of shape that he could not keep up. If was actually rather refreshing; a little exercise never hurt anybody.

Well, except for that one time, when that one person stretched a muscle while jogging. But they just sucked. Like, a lot.

Sikici didn't except much trouble if he tried to cross the Sevastia'Nyad border, what with the diplomatic relations between his country of Voethfel and Sevastia being relatively friendly, if at the least not hostile. Still, one could never expect what would happen next. For all the angel knew, he would be beaten with sticks if he tried to cross. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen.

[Ashen Star]

"Stand down."  She said to the sergant sighting the pair with the long arm.  "They're expected."  She said as she walked to the edge of the tower and looked down.  The skunk showed either alarm nor awe at the warmech.  In one look she assessed the brothers and their equipment and nodded once.  She decended to the ground and slipped out.

Ashlynn walked towards the pair in her field blues, the Lebarge slung at her side while her other arm held two more belts for the slug thrower.  Ashlynn had never determined if the cut was intentional but the uniform emphasized her curves far more than she thought necessary.  Still, they proved useful on occasion.  The gray skunk's tail swayed behind her as she approached the beaver brothers.  "Lieutenant Ashlynn Taige, 45th regular infantry.  If you are..." She paused and thrust the forty pound ammo belts into Gazzemocht's arms, reached into her pocket, pulled out a slim leather folder and snapped it open, her good eye narrowing as her replacement whirred in the socket, "Vaponci and Vaponci then you're the ones my captain contacted."  She snapped the folder closed and thrust the much lighter folder into Gaakronacht's hands.  "Your contract.  Four days of patrolling around the village.  I will be your liason."  She then reached out, her mechanical arm retrieving the ammo belts with ease.  "Any questions?"  She asked as she shifted the immense Lebarge and made an attempt at a smile to the beaver brothers.  It was not a very good one.

[Azlan]

A final twist of an ensorcelled wrench brought the final touch on his most recent clockwork toy.  With a hum, two cerulean orbs flared to life, bright and constant.  The white porcelain enameled body and limbs flexed and moved about this way and that, learning and testing its form.    A full mirror revealed its form as something akin to a vixen shaped mannequin, having the basic form and anatomy, but no detail... a large doll.

Finished adjusting the gyros, gears and mechanics that made it move, it assumed its spot among five other similar life sized dolls.  A mink, a large breed feline, a large breed dog, a short-eared lapine, and a mouse.  All were female in basic form.

Their creator, a young looking feline of the cheetah persuasion with steely fur and dark ebony spots and tear streaks, gestured in a circular fashion indicating they should turn around.  Doing so, each found a small pile of folded clothes, which their internal programming indicated they should wear.  Locke, perhaps out of some gentlebeing learned response, turned away as they began to consider their 'uniforms'.  

The fox appearing one unfurled the largest piece to reveal a dress, a maid's garb, brown and white.  "She" twitched slightly, perhaps a gyro-instability, perhaps she should have it looked at in case there was a problem.  Having no other selection, she donned it like the others.  All came to realize that their attire was all the same.

"Done, ladies?  Good.  Now I've, uh, made you all to take care of the various tasks of maintaining the living spaces of Flamehaze.  She is in charge of your household operations, and I am Locke, the master of this household.  Any questions?"  He stood there several moments as each tilted their heads in slight confusion.

"Oh right, no vocabulators... haven't quite figured that one out just yet.  The reels are just too complicated and bulky.  I need to find a way to manufacture a smaller one, and to imprint it with the right runes..."  The cheetah began sketching notes on blackboards and easels.

The new maids began to filter out, having received instructions on tasks soundlessly from Flamehaze herself.

A few minutes of inventive bliss were all he was able to achieve before an alarm sounded.  Flipping up a paper thin flat panel display, numerous data readouts were displayed in crisp black and white.  He was crossing the border into Sevastia' Nyad and would reach civilization again.  He had spent too long out alone just he and Flamehaze, so long he built himself maids.

The important bit of information was that they were heading into a small lightning storm.

"Let's deploy the collectors and head in at best possible speed.  I'll be to the bridge in a moment."  Locke stated as he donned his coat and headed for the bridge.  It was good to get a break, all he had encountered was wind and rain, but a lightning storm gave them an opportunity to charge the batteries.

"They say only a fool charges a thunderhead holding his lance aloft."  He smiled, "what fools we certainly be."          

[Tapewolf]

When Seth finally arrived at the scene of the crash, he was convinced he was too late to do anything about it, but common decency dictated he try.  It had belatedly occurred to him that a member of his race was ideally suited for this kind of rescue as he could go for an hour or four without breathing, and like most trained 'Cubi, could also make himself element-resistant.

Parking the bike he warded it again and undressed, shapeshifting himself a quick pair of pants for modesty.  While he might be fireproof, it did not necessarily apply to his clothes - or his underwear.

Watching everywhere for signs of collapse, he entered one of the burning carriages and strode into the flames, listening for the thoughts or emotions of anyone still trapped.