The Clockwork Mansion

Gorod Kur, Kebrean Gubernia
For the first time this year, the mists have lifted somewhat, and the weather is the closest it gets to sunny in this part of the Kebrean Gubernia. The nature responded in accord, with beak clicking and high-pitched chirps heard everywhere since the early hours - the swamp runners mating season slowly moving into full spin. It was nearing noon when a badger, dressed in a muddy patrolman garb and missing his cap, walked into the army stationment on the west outskirts of Gorod Kur.
"Stop, identify yourself." - a grey wolf, the higher ranking of the two men adressed him as soon as he reached the guard booth.
"Patrolmaster Kozin, estabilishment 23-B, approximately six miles south of the city. We got trouble - a mudball, maybe five metres across,  been attacking the silos, got to see the Commander 'bout giving us a paw."
"Fuck." The wolf spat onto the muddy ground. "You may pass - Hey, Ivan, don't stand there, think with your feet and and escort him."


Kallisburg, Kebrean Gubernia
The city of Kallisburg never quite sleeps, with carbon arc lamps mounted near important public buildings, and residences of more affluent citizens keeping it lit from dusk to dawn. This night, however, was somewhat brighter than usual.
"Angle it up there, Peter!  Chiir, Squirr pump faster!"
The fire engine was an older, yet reliable design, made for a crew of five firefighters - three beings and two gryphons who served both as the engine's means of transport, and the operators of the pump. Calling it primitive would be inaccurate though - under the hood, a complex array of spells replenished the water inside the cistern and maintained a constant pressure.
The captain, a middle-aged bear always with a cigarette in his maw waved a "cease" to the gryphons as the flames engulfing Kallisburg's first cinema died out, and the trio began inspecting the damage.  
"Good work boys... it'll need a new roof, but at least we won't need to tear it down. I wonder if it was a short in the wiring like at the thea-aw fuck! Look there!"
The bear aimed his finger, emitting a ray of blueish light at a section of the floor through one of the windows. There, spreading on a nearby wall was an irregular, black stain. Another firefighter, a rail-thin goat,  muttered something, and drew a symbol into the air.
"Yep, this shit was no accident.. that there used to be a bottle of alchemist's fire or three. Someone should call up lady Aliera Nact'larn, and the militia."

Derevensk, near Kallisburg, Kebrean Gubernia
The village of Derevensk was busier these days than one'd expect. A part of the reason was that the market has just about picked the nicest few days in this and last month, but the main cause was the travelling circus currently stationed on the outskirts. The colourful tents attracted the eye from afar, and the word of skillful performers, strange devices and unusual creatures soon spread like a plague - within days, people from three towns' over were coming in to look at the rare spectactle.
One visitor in particular, a mustelid of some sort, stood out somewhat to an attentive eye - dressed somewhat better than the peasants and lumberjacks, a shawl covering the lower half of his face, and army-style footwear. Moreso when the stranger's attention seemed mostly focused on the various machines and constructs,,even the vagons and tents themselves.

Vlcia Polhora, Duchy of Borovec, Ister Union
A settlement on the edge of the mountains near the Monk's Pass, Vlcia Polhora was little more than a bunch of squat houses belonging to lumberjacks and shepherds. On the east side stood a single larger building, the painted ram skull on its hanging sign informing passers-by that "U tvrdej kotrby" is a pub, guesthouse and general store. The town seemed rather quiet, not surprising given the heavy snowfall.

A thousand possibilities, all arriving at one certainty. Every piece, every puzzle, all coming together to this one truth, which is-

"Wakey wakey, shake and bakey!" Came the ever cheery voice of Alarica.

And something along the lines of "Grmph!" was Zanfib's reply.

Zanfib Black wasn't exactly a morning person. His nights were long, and his mornings always a pain. Especially since Alarica was under strict orders not to let the Ringtail sleep in for too long, much to Mr. Black's consternation. And as the raccoon maid promptly threw the drapes wide, letting the morning light flood over the black and white furred Bassariscus astutus, he groaned and rolled the other way, grasping about blindly for a pillow to cover his head.

"Come on! Come on! Up you go!" She cheerfully continued, pulling the pillow away, thought she averted her face with the slightest hint of a blush. The young master of the household slept nude. He sighed, and lay there for a moment, gathering his thoughts and concentration. His senses extended outward from within his mind, feeling out over his house, and the other minds within. There was Alarica, being, one of his maids. slightly older than he was, and while always cheerful she secretly fretted that Zanfib would read her thoughts, and then would know that she feared that he took naughty peeks at her rear when she wasn't looking. He cracked an eye open, the violet orb swiveling over to Alarica.

Well, it was a nice ass.

He sensed Hugo downstairs. Half-demon, though it didn't show unless he needed to 'escort' someone off the property. He was more apparently an english bulldog being, always proper and polite, and always keeping tabs on any bumps in the Black reputation. Something was worrying him? Well, he was setting the breakfast table. That was reason enough to make the psion stir and sit up right. He stretched and yawned, idly scratching his chin before reaching for the long-johns that Alarica had set out.

He stood up, pulling the pajama shirt over his head on autopilot as he kept turning his senses about. Where is- ah, there she is. Maury, the angel. Lords and Ladies, did she even sleep last night? Still in there, processing and compiling and working and submitting forms and orders and letters and, gods, you'd honestly think she was in love with the printing company the way she went on. Oh well, that was what a good secretary was for, but Zanfib thought to himself that perhaps he should persuade her to take a vacation. Or sleep in his bed. Those two trains of thought battled it out as Zanfib started his day, one leg at a time. He turned around and looked over at Alarica, who appeared to be busying herself dusting in the corner, but Zanfib saw through that facade. She didn't want to look at him in the nude, and had been waiting for him to finish dressing. Silly shy girl.

"So what's waiting for me this morn?" Zanfib asked, idly stretching. Heh, a hesitant peek from the raccoon, how cute. "Ah! Well, Sir Hugo seemed to be fussing about something or another, I believe he has the news for you?" She said quickly. Was she really that worried he'd make a pass at her? Zanfib couldn't help but smirk at the thought. "Allright then." He said simply, and strode out in his slippers.

He made his way through the manor, and headed downstairs to the indoor patio in the back of the house, a stone's throw from the kitchen, where Hugo was setting the table and setting out his breakfast. "Ah, good morning, Master Black!" The tall, tall bulldog said, turning and offering a quick, short bow. "Morning Hugo." Zanfib managed after a strong yawn, before he sat down and begin to pick about at his breakfast. "Alarica said something about a bit of a fuss?" He asked, munching on a bit of toast. "Ah, you might wish to finish your morning meal before trying to digest the latest news, Master Black." Hugo said promptly. Zanfib paused a bit, giving the smiling bulldog a look. He was usually so straightforward with business, but he shrugged, and finished his meal. That's when Zanfib was handed the letter, in lettering he instantly recognized as Lady Aliera. He smirked slightly, thinking of her, and read the letter, only vaguely noting that Hugo was setting out his suit, hat and cane already.

It was a good thing he had finished eating, or Zanfib would have likely choked. "What!?" He exclaimed, reading the letter again, as if there was some faint chance he had misread it. "Terrible business, sir. It apparently happened not a great deal long ago." Hugo said, already moving to help Zanfib dress, and quickly. "Of all the-.. who would dare do such a thing!?" Zanfib mused angerly as he donned his jacket and hat, and headed outside. Hugo had even gotten his car ready, and Zanfib smiled that at least someone could predict him. He quickly got into the driver's seat, and started it up, quickly heading off and down the driveway, and off to the cinema..

It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down.

The fox hummed to himself as he flipped through a small packet of papers; a briefing packet, to inform newcomers of what to expect on this particular front. The command tent was rather a bit larger than the rest, and better ventilated. Now, normally he would have been made to attend a mass briefing, along with all the other new arrivals. However, he had been called in as a specialist and expert in his field, and had thus been pulled in to be briefed directly by the commander.

His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose slightly, and he pushed them back up with a single calloused finger. His legs, clothed in simple camo-patterned cargo pants bloused over heavy-duty combat boots, were slightly crossed, his right ankle resting on his left knee. The sleeveless shirt on his torso was of a similar pattern, allowing him to proudly show the marking on his left bicep. His dog tags rested lightly over his shirt, and his stark white headfur contrasted sharply with his much darker bodyfur.

He had just about finished up with the packet when the commander strode out of his office; a small section of the tent walled off by fabric hanging from the ceiling. As he made his way towards the new arrival, the fox stood from his chair and snapped to attention. He did not render a salute, given as they were indoors and it was thus not required. He did, however, introduce himself.

"Sir, Warrant Officer Jaes Straken reporting for duty!"

It happened again: another feral mudkin had reared its ugly head.

Oyugun rumbled in dismay at the thought. Ever since these two-legs came along, dumping their garbage and corpses, burning and slashing, turning the once-beautiful earth into something uniform and sterile... these things used to come on rare and manageable occasions. Now, it seemed like mudmen were getting so upset by the encroachment that they would happily submit to hulking insanity if it meant getting back at these meatpeople. The only problem with that little plan was once they lost their minds, they couldn't very well differentiate friend from foe, much less direct their fury in the right places. Trusting to luck wasn't a viable strategy against such an organized opponent.

But Oyugun couldn't think in those terms anymore. As the only earthkin willing to slither out of the marshes and actually talk to these people, he had to plead as best he could for these people to stop and leave the Bogs alone, to treat them as sentients who could be reasoned with.

In the back of his head, he knew better than that. These creatures were petty and vindictive. If he got their coats dirty they would probably burn him alive.

Big smiles. Use the front door. He slid towards the inner-city, sure to take the main road and make himself be known. There was no need for subtleties anymore.

Duties called loud enough today three caravan carts forming Fergus's workshop looked shouted apart inside. Around them few patrons walked through this calm portion of circus so things walking away wasn't as bad. That portion at least could be roped off near worker supplies. Though so much of the worker's troubles needed fixing that today the pack Fergus lifted off the floor checked chock full but there were straps still to use. His last duty took him to repair cook stoves with leaky handles though loose wiring left his digits a little numb. Some cleaning and medical care later he was ready to leave these three carts again to work.

Red furred hands rub together in absent preparation as singe marks up his wrist shot pain in complaint of more work. There was work to do anyway; he ignored the burning scour. Along the floor he looks where larger tools should be as his next task needed a sledge found reflected in polished steel mirror leaning against a desk. It then reflected there, if in its fun-house warp, a grotesquely dwarfish gryphon set to work with green-dye vines climbing his body to black rose outlines dyed around his face and painted red onto his beak. He lifted hard wood handle then slid it into a harness. The tool needed pounding on a new regulator he'd just finished refurbishing which also needed to be added.

Springs and spars in separate piles of varied condition littered one work desk in similar likeness to his scattered efforts today. Atop it was an elongated steam regulator for the swing carousel. One of the balls on motor's regulator kept getting loose spinning the ride a little fast. Not that the kids cared but it wasn't good to let it go on even if he did make sure it stayed put till he got there later on. The large brass ball regulator was attached to the other side of his pack with the last two straps.

Fergus sat down in front of the pack an hefted the chest strap on with a tug and lunge forward to four legs up. Weight was pleasing it made the muscles burn complaints but he was as strong as long years of endless punishment had made him. Fur erratic from as much scarring as work-hardening was clamped over after threading underneath. Each step creaking the floorboards felt like the fat man following him but it didn't feel like good work without him.

Fergus headed out through lines and between carts as workers there do as well and there's a number of waves to him from barkers at their stalls. Racing full speed along despite the heavy load that wanted to drive him into a furry crater he kept from smashing into patrons from taking the carny-paths carefully spaced between the stalls. Jingling loudly as his tight pack went about some windows opened into the alley as everyone knew what that particular sound meant and liked to watch the spectacle of rattling tools.

"Hey Fergus! Emery says she needs you to look at a organ!", comes from the path by huge bear geared in clown and cleaver with a menacing dye to match.

"I'll look.. at her.. next! Thanks!", came rushed response in between breaths stolen from lifts in a shifting load.

"Control the breath, breathe out the unmoral, breathe in purity.", came the old mantra as he sailed blasting-breath on across path of startled circusgoers grinding to a stop. His eyes stopped on one lacking a degree of frivolity which pounded a divot in the earth with the force to enable his stare. He could hear the boorish voice in his head yelling abuses of warning just looking at the jackboot. Fergus made a mental note to have someone keep an eye on the out of place jackboot lingering for a moment before sidling off in the opposing carny path between trailers toward the rising tornado of chairs just off in the distance.

Edit: Spalling checker misses concrete errors sometimes... also minor grammar twiddling.

Christopher landed by the edge of the town and soon made his way to U Trydej Kotrby which was apparently... a bar. As he made his way inside and to the counter, an unskilled eye might mark him of demon blood and not to be trifled with lightly. With his heavy fur coat, he had no need of a jacket and made no use of any sort of concealing devices. That combined with his wings meant he was probably either secure in the knowledge that he could wipe the floor with anyone who tried to cause trouble... or that he was overconfident as well as incompetent. The two are often surprisingly difficult to tell apart, but the experienced often notice those who are confident are usually quiet about it. Except when they're not.

Too much second guessing can make a fellow thirsty and it's not something often practiced by folk in a bar (unless it's the bartender but that's a whole nother story) and speaking of which, Chris sat down at the bar and ordered himself a drink. The crossing would doubtless be long and semi-perilous with much traveling, some fighting, some sneaking, and perhaps even a bit of outright running if he wasn't very careful. Still, that day was not yet today and Chris was happy to spend one last day in so called civilization before setting off in the morn. He requested a room to stay at for the night and went straight upstairs. A few ice wedges and a ward on the window to ensure his privacy, and he lay down for sleep. Tomorrow was the start of a long journey...

Kallisburg.

The gryphonless carriage was a marvel of modern engineering. A light ironwood frame holding a coal powder-fired stirling engine, with a number of probability-altering spells that kept most of the combustor just mildly warm to touch. The air entering through the front grille was similarly separated into two streams - the first, about twenty degrees cooler than the surroundings, cooled the cold side, and a second, a few degrees warmer, that was further warmed up by the twisty exhaust gas pipeline,carried the coal dust into the combustion chamber. An ornate cabin with golden inlays, two leather seats, and a sizeable trunk, a speed of over twelve miles per hour, and a range of about ninety for a filling, it shouted money in the face of anyone passing by. The only small disadvantage was that the engine needed about a quarter-hour to warm up, which was especially annoying in situations like this one.
Today Zanfib was quite lucky - Hugo has anticipated his need for transport, and when Zanfib approached the vehicle, the carriage was running with a quiet chug-chug of the coaxial pistons. A few minutes later, and he had left the mansion behind, rushing through the uneven streets. About half an hour, and three quarters of a collision later, the ringtail arrived at the site of Kebre's first movie theater, the structure's charred roof still steaming. Nearby stood a fire engine, the five firemen and two wolfdogs in militia uniform, all of them staring in his direction.
"Nice upholstery." A familiar soft voice next to him, and a touch of feathers on his shoulders suggested that Lady Aliera had decided to waste no time by such mundane activities as walking towards him.
"I take it you got the news? Took you long enough.. the theatre's pretty much ruined, but if we're lucky, the equipment in the basement could have survived, thanks to the boys here." The panthress nodded towards the group, and looking closer, Zanfib could tell that every fireman was holding something resembling a member pass to Clan Nact'larn's Temple of Pleasure.  



Gorod Kur


The increasing number of patches of land full of seedlings or even full growths of unfamiliar grasses and plants, usually arranged in a somewhat regular pattern, and even a cottage here or there suggested, that the city of Gorod Kur lies in Oygun's general direction.  Especially since asking for directions wasn't really an option -  the single furre, a bovine farmer he met likely on the way to his plot just clutched his axe harder, and proceeded to not quite subtly angle away from the mudman.
However, the most unsubtle thing met him an hour or so later, about eighty feet off his path. What used to be a growth of willows was now a pile of wood with a thick layer of mud caked on. Two of the trees lay uprooted while the third had its trunk split lengthways, one of the halves still standing somewhat, the other broken at soil-level. A few feet to the right, a flock of swamp runners busily pecked at something resembling a corpse.

* * *


Bloody northerners, it's cold as fuck and... hmm, new combat dress pants... looks like those fucks up at Oriss finally realised what camo means. The old pattern stood out in the marshes like a dick in a nunnery.
"At ease!" The commander, a tall, short-furred cat with rather large ears and an eyepatch extended his paw towards Jaes. "Welcome on board, Warrant Officer. As you can see ,the place's a bit of a muddy arse, but what can we do. By the way, I'm Captain Ante Draganovic." The commander stopped for a moment, and looked Jaes over. "Now, service at the Gorod Kur Permanent Army Detachment might not seem quite as prestigious as, say, blowing up the pirates over at Fort Solig or Fort Kagan, or as easy as catching smugglers on the border with Kingdom of HollyAnn, but it isn't without benefit. For one, there's two days extra leave per month, never mind the pay rise. For two - the fact that this is a busy place has a good side in that you'll have quite a lot of opportunity to show there isn't a pile of straw under your cap. " The cat took out a pack of tobacco, and made himself a cigarette, sparking the fire with his claw. "Now, as for the reason why you aren't hearing all of this from someone who isn't me with the other transfers. Our detachment is an everything bitch, but the main duties are aiding the militia maintain public order, help them and the spooks out on the occassional raid, keep a perimeter around the outer city, and deal with hostile wildlife. The last bit is where you come in. See, what passes for wildlife here includes living piles of mud, and the smallest gun that does anything to those is a 3-lb. howitzer.  As such we're forming a platoon to deal with this sort of thing specifically, with you being in command of one of the squads - two soldiers armed with grenades, and two, usually gryphons in charge of a mobile howitzer . You'll be reporting to Lieutenant Boris Ivanov, who is to arrive in about an hour. Any questions?"


Vlcia Polhora

The bar was rather empty at this time of day. In one corner, an old-looking lynx smoked a pipe, resting his elbow on an ornate shepherd's axe,  while on a table center, a bear and two slovak cuvacs played cards, all three dressed in heavy sheepskin coats. The bartender, a short, stout ram, was cleaning glasses. Behind him, an ornate sign saying "Kibitz hold your breath, or you won't hold your teeth.", a shelf with glassware and a blunderbuss.
Chris's arrival was met by a combined glare that would make a donkey sweat. The bartender acknowledged his request with a nod, and poured him a glass of juniper brandy. The request for a living space was met with a sigh, and a few equally laconic grunts, namely "forty-five kopecks, take or leave." and "second door upstairs."
There was little in the room besides a bed with a straw mattress, an old, somewhat moldy-smelling chest, and a window, presently barred with planks about half an inch thick. At least the covers and cushion  were relatively clean and thick. Some noise was coming from the downstairs bar for an hour or two after the leopard retreated, but soon enough, it died down with footsteps going upstairs. The night was quiet and clear.
It might have been early morning when Chris was woken by a smash that ringed in his ears, followed by "Whore it's mother! Fuck!" coming from the nearby room.  

Derevensk

The cause of the problem with the governor was rather obvious and boring - grime accumulating in the grease of the valve have caused it to never quite close up,making it spin substantially faster than expected. The damaged ball arm, on the other paw, appeared to be the result of one of the operators whacking it with a wrench or somesuch in an effort to get it to rise as proper - a classic case of cure being worse than the disease.  But that was all dealt with, and the whole regulator assembly was now ready to be mounted back in... if only it wasn't so damn heavy.
It was sheer luck Fergus didn't knock someone out while hauling it around, or in fact himself when passing through the swing's supports and near the engine, also located underneath - the torque from the engine unit was transferred to the swing's gearset by a chain transmission, which had to be kept reasonably short. From then on, it was the work of roughly an hour to mount the governor, fire up the engine, and do a general check to make sure there are no leaks, or jams.
The gryphon was just about ready to turn the ride's engine off, when he noticed someone watching him from the other side, resting on the support frame with one foot on low-running horizontal beam.

Zanfib had kept the gryphonless carriage chugging along, and made liberal use of the horn as well, as many folks were not yet used to reacting to the steady, wispy, hissing of the carriage's stirling engine. Three-quarters of a collision was putting it liberally. Zanfib had to practically push through traffic in his rush to get to the theater.

When he got there, he cut the engine down to a simmer, pulled the parking brake and put the three-geared transmission in neutral, before hopping out of the carriage, and surveying the damage.  He hissed a quiet curse at the smoke trailing off the destroyed roof, and then glanced over at the onlookers, the firemen and the militia. Zanfib quietly hoped they did not know who he was, but it was a vain and naive hope at the very least. He just rolled up looking like a million gold rubles, and his reputation was particularly strong in this scenario. Anywhere else, and he could have likely passed as an affluent being with a strange coloration, but here? Right at the ruins of the showplace of naughty and lust? He might as well have had a stack of his books handed out.

But, as he was pondering on that, he sensed a familiar mind, and smirked lightly as he felt the feathery brush. Well, at least something was going right. "A pardon, Lady Aliera." He said as he looked over with a smile, "Much of the rabble on the roads has yet to come to respect the gryphonless carriage. It makes maneuvers and swift travel difficult, at best." He said, and then glanced back to the assembly, his identity very much confirmed by the presence of the succubus. He noted their latest acquisitions, which renewed his smirk as his thoughts drifted to his own, executive level pass. "I see our valiant heroes have been amply rewarded then." He said as he looked back to her again. "I suppose it is safe for us to survey the damage for ourselves? I could perhaps check for the equipment myself. But, perhaps even more pressing, do we have any leads as to what-" He started, and then stopped, quickly heeding the thoughts drifting about. "Alchemist's fire! Very well then. The topic shifts to who is responsible for this." He says. "Any ideas or leads, mi'lady?"

At the command of "at ease," Jaes visibly relaxed. He let his arms go slack and rolled his shoulders; they had gotten a little stiff from sitting in that chair. The fox took his new commander's hand, giving it a firm shake as he smiled kindly at the cat. He nodded slightly as he was briefed, most of what the commander was going over had been contained in the packet he had just finished reading. He had known from the word 'go' that this wasn't necessarily the best assignment available. That didn't matter to him, though. Jaes Straken went where he was needed, no matter the conditions.

The Warrent Officer's ears perked up at the mention of his own command; this was the important part, the reason he had been specifically requested for this assignment. His knowledge of mundane ordnance, along with his own less ordinary abilities, made him just the fox for the job, something he had every intention of proving. Jaes would approach this campaign with the same level of effort that had allowed him to excel in his area of expertise.

"Just one, sir. When do I get started?"

Some days Oyugun wished these bumpkins would try something. He'd show them just how unpleasant he could be, especially when being treated like an outsider in his own homeland. As though all this foreign flora didn't upset him already. Soon enough some younger earthkin would probably burrow through and screw everything up for the farmhands.

If only I could see the look on their faces when it happens.

But his heart softened a little at the sight of the grim and muddy melee. Great, the creature must have been lurking around here, and it caught some poor bastard by surprise. Probably a woodsman or something. With a sigh, he slithered towards the soiled carcass, whiplike arms lashing to shoo the runners away. "Go on," he rumbled, "beat it! Go!" As much as he hated these people, the thought of them dying in such ruthless fashion saddened him. The least he could do was close the poor corpse's eyes. Assuming they hadn't already been pecked out.

Fergus was on his haunches turning the engine off. Handle-clamps were next to come off from his sledge when Fergus saw two eyes peering at him. Circus goers weren't likely to get near the whirling metal machines when the operators didn't look active. One click of a key and the engine wound down. Instead of taking the handles off Fergus thunked down his sledge head to haul himself up. Bent-kneed and hunched further upright his frame and muscles complained. Contortionists helped him to be flexible enough. Mechanical leverage is poorly served sitting down. Fergus could hear the fat man wanting to hit such ornery patrons on his own two feet. Once bent up Fergus's wings listed downward. They were tethered down where the two large packages once were.

The gryphon felt and looked grimy. Fergus called out to those two peering eyes, "I'm done fixing the motor so if you want a ride on the swings you'll have to wait until it's fueled up again. Then if you're good I'll even give you a candy!"

The spotted black head of a leatherback manning the ride stands then goes away to get to fueling.

Chris awoke with a start, scrambling at the covers. Were he a regular fellow he would have dismissed it as nothing and waited for it to go away. But Chris was no ordinary fellow, he was an adventurer! And also a cubi, but since he hadn't gotten his wings yet that was probably not relevant. Regardless, an adventurer always assumes that there is something going down, so he sprang into action leaping from the bed, drawing his weapon hilt, shattering the ice blocks at the door, and quickly located the commotion as he manifested two swords out of ice. The first was with the hilt and was a dark blue, almost black. It was strong enough for direct attacks and clashes and he wielded it with his right arm, the stronger one. His left arm was not as strong, but it was also faster so for that hand he made a regular ice sword, light blue and nearly white/clear, which would probably break if it hit something too hard but was good for parrying and striking unarmored parts. He cleared the stairs, controlling his fall by a flare of his wings at the end and sliding to face the main room looking for whatever caused the commotion. And, just because he really wasn't very good at this... he called out, "Who's there?!" which both alerted anyone downstairs to his presence and possibly also would wake up more irritable people upstairs. Plus, no one ever answers that question when they're up to no good so it was kind of silly anyway. Oh, and he also landed in a cool pose that was not actually combat ready.

Kallisburg

A soft breeze marked Lady Aliera's short teleportation outside to Zanfib's side.  "The building is damn near condemned, according to their chief.  But this is neither horseshoes, nor hand grenades, so almost doesn't apply.  Come with me, we're going to go see how badly damaged the projector is, then check on the storage."  The woman started off, using her tentacles to clear away debris from their path, and sending a crude psionic message to Zanfib while not answering his last question.

No leads yet.  I don't wish to announce it, if the perp is still watching.

If any of the firemen noticed Zanfib's presence as the two moved through the building, none mentioned it; too busy were they doing their various tasks.  The steps to the projector room still had a bit of shine, and minimal soot, evidently the fire had not lingered here.  The projector room was relatively intact, a huge segment of the wall collapsed down into what would have been the auditorium, but only scorch marks beyond that

The lady stooped to inspect the massive projector, moving parts, removing melted film, lifting her tail so as not to drag on the sooty floor...

A soft crunching noise came to Zanfib's massive ears.  Down in the auditorium, part of the wall had collapsed, where many firemen had earlier been seen entering and exiting.  Now, there stood a woman.  A white furred feline, with flowing black hair, a sleek black dress which left her shoulders and displayed significant cleavage, as well as long evening gloves.  About her neck, she wore a white silk scarf edged in orange.  She smiled at Zanfib, showing blood red eyes, and stretched out a hand as if to wave.

But instead, her hand sprouted long claws from her finger tips, which raced through the air between her and the projector room in a second.  With unfathomable strength, they pierced the wood, cut through the ceiling, put a new hole in the projector, and even grazed the Lady across one of her wings.  Just as Aliera was reacting to the wound and the noise, the claws withdrew, and the room shook.

The floor crumbled, the projector fell, and so did Aliera and Zanfib.  The ringtail had the honor of seeing the entire front end of the building falling backward, as a coffin lid would fall upon a corpse, before a searing pain forced him unconscious.

When Zanfib would awake, he would be looking at the clear blue sky, the sun moving toward an eleven o'clock position, and in a hole.  His head would be in pain, but not affecting his psionics, and otherwise he would appear unhurt.  The projector, and a fair bit of the wall would be to his side, moving in jerks, with Aliera's voice coming from within.  Evidently, she refused to stay dead.  For how could they have survived such a fall?

Regardless, once again Zanfib's magnificent ears would warn him of danger, as he heard a scuffling of many bodies across the floor, squeaks as if from large rodents, and the familiar crackle of fire.

Derevensk

Fergus would notice that the figure seemed to blur with each blink of his eye, until it was vanished from his sight.  A breeze would pick up, bringing a strange smell of iron to him.  His latent gryphon instincts immediately informed him that smell was blood.  The noise from the rest of the carnival seemed to fade, as the world beyond the ride he was repairing seemed to blur rapidly.  The wind shifted, and the smell of blood became more potent.  A figure would come into Fergus' sight then.

An elk man, in a fancy suit, with strangely sharp and protruding teeth.  A filmy eye swirls in it's socket, locking upon Fergus, and the figure turns, facing the gryphon.

In some animalistic part of Fergus' mind, the part that would always long to fly and hunt prey, a word came forward, as if bidden.

Wendigo.

Gorod Kur

"As soon as Ivanov's here to take command.  In the meantime, you should get at least a passing familiarity with your squad," the cat was interrupted by a mouse being scurrying up to him and passing off a letter, then retreating without a word.  "Oh, it looks like your commander has arrived ahead of schedule.  Follow me."  Captain Draganovic didn't bother to look back at Jaes as he briskly moved through the fort, to a rather large disk of packed earth.  Signs in the area declared it to be the landing zone for teleportations, and to stand clear.

For a long moment nothing happened.  Then runes lit up along the disk, and a red ball of lightning manifested in it's center.  The ball quickly expanded and dissipated into the air, leaving a strange black creature with a red aura floating in the air, alongside what had to be Ivanov.

A physically massive bear, pushing past eight feet in height.  The standard officer's uniform of drab pants and jacket, with high boots and a flat cap, and some customization.  The standard officer's allowance of two pistols, and an oiled coat for the climate, but the most noteworthy thing about him was the massive staff-like mace he held in one hand.  The segment to be used as a grip matched him for height, and the business end looked to be made of blunt black caltrops, the size of Ivanov's head, stacked atop each other for another two feet.  They also seemed to be rotating at different speeds for each caltrop.

"Lieutenant Boris Ivanov reporting for duty, sir."  The bear's voice was alarmingly dissonant to his huge body, soft and not unlike a woman's.  Captain Draganovic's eyebrows strained to escape his forehead at the sound of it.

"At ease, Lieutenant.  You have your orders, the both of you.  Get to garage twenty-eight, and inform your team that with your new arrival, I'll expect you to sortie within fifteen minutes.  Dismissed."

* * *
The corpse was dressed in oiled garments, to repel the grime of the swamp.  Some form of deer species, Oyugun could identify.  Face down in the mire, the back of the head had been pecked off, revealing it to be nothing but a deer's skin, over what the mudman could instantly identify as moist clay.

If Oyugun bothered to inspect it, the so called corpse had no identifying markers, and shattered bits of gemstone floated around in the clay that was it's innards.  The skin had been broken in many spots along the body, and clay slowly leaked out from those wounds.  Runners moved about just in Oyugun's visual range, waiting for him to leave the body for them to peck at again.

Fergus could have gone many more years without knowing what that smell was. That the scent wasn't from one ragged bonesaw in his memories didn't matter much. That memory still made Fergus clench on his tongue to fend off what the smell of blood called forth. One bit of learning from those days long ago found its way into his consciousness from the foggy recollection of that word "Wendigo". Never anger the butcher or let him see you partaking of his cuts.

The well-tenderized young animal remembering the word wanted to run. The fat man in his way couldn't run and wouldn't want to. Fergus's reflexes were caught between the two instincts for a moment as the fat man won with his cooked fingers. The animal that ran just got eaten slightly later. Fergus stood his ground with narrowed eyes and twitching tail.

One hand off the sledge Fergus rubbed one eye and continued at the strange predator all the good humor drained, "If you don't want the candy you're out of luck. The only other place I know with anything else burnt down a long time ago and you won't get it around here. Or is there something else you want, Mister?"

Not exactly what one planned in their daily routine, now was it?

Zanfib had been idly picking through the ruins when the strange feline showed up. He was immediately on alert, but simply not quick enough to act. While she had a nice set, she had no place being there, but she was quicker than the being. A roll of the dice that resulted in a series of unfortunate events.

Oh joyful day. Came that ever sarcastic internal monologue, the first to greet Zanfib as he snapped back to consciousness. Mental training from his psionic tutelage helped his brain recover at a quick pace, but couldn't do anything about the headache. It seems that there is never an answer to that.

Regardless, he got up, only pausing to sniff disdainfully at his expensive, damaged clothing, and quickly assessed the situation. A hostile, right. He strengthened his ever-present mental defenses, and erected his inertial shields around him, compressed energy forming a barrier between his person and that which would do him harm. At this point he wanted to hunt down that feline, the offender responsible for all this damage to the cinema and especially to his ego, and show them what melting brains smells like. But, something else was much higher on his priority list, and that was Lady Aliera. Nact'Larn, along with his mentor, was the only family he had ever known, and for all his stubborn, insufferable arrogance, Zanfib was loyal. So for now he set a section of his psionic senses to watch for that feline, and scan for whatever squeaking menace was headed there way, and headed towards the trapped succubus.

Now, this is a chance to point out some of the difficulties that differ between mage and psion. A mage might have difficulty hefty the heavy projector and wall and debris, having to resort to some rather powerful magic to heft the bulk out of the way, but a psion? Nothing of the sort. Zanfib nearly effortless hefted Lady Aliera's make-shift prison off of her, and thoughtlessly tossed it aside, sending it to the ground with a crash and a clatter.. He didn't care for the damage done to the projector. At this stage, he had marked the cinema as a loss, and the life of one of Nact'Larn's daughters as far more valuable.

And the fire? An ease and a trifle for a magic to summon a quantity of water to douse. But a psion? All that kinetic energy, all that matter transforming and changing and shaping, it would be a doozy for a psion to lock onto its energy signature, and snuff it out. To tell the truth, it would be far easier to just crush the rubble down on it and snuff it out. That, however, was not an option at this stage, and with his mind primed and prepped for a conflict, he could not spare the focus needed to snuff the flames, a feat which might have been out of his league regardless.

Aliera, we need to leave, now. Came a much sharper psionic message into the succubus' mind, as the being knelt down to help her up. That, however, is when it occurred to him that the entire front half of the cinema had just fallen on top of them.. and yet there was an open sky. This brought what could perhaps be considered a belated alarm to the ringtail's mind, and he quickly looked skyward, relying on his psionic senses to keep tabs on the more apparent threats, while his mundane, physical means looked for an explanation to this unusual new development amidst a sea of unusual, new developments.

Vlcia Polhora

There are times when the best thing one can do is abandon all caution and leap head-first into battle, catching the other side off-guard and out of concept. This however, as Chris found out while still in air, wasn't one of them, for a couple of good reasons - the first of such being the utter lack of foes in the pub below.
The second reason became apparent as soon the snow leaopard landed, and instead of coming to a point stop, ready to strike, or at least looking like it, he carried on, sliding like soaped up lightning on what appeared to be an unusually cold and shiny floorboards, hitting an already battered cupboard lying on the floor like a flail hits a knot of wheat.
Extricating himself from what was now a pile of kindling, and standing up with the aid of his swords, the reason for the cupboard's presence became obvious - someone had used it as a makeshift barricade, the success of such an endeavour pointedly shown by the torn-out door lying just a foot off from where he stood.
On the other paw, the windows seemed to remain closed firm, blocked from opening by clever use of tables and stools. Not like it mattered - the floor, and as he soon found out, just about every surface of the pub was covered in an layer of ice approximately half an inch thick. The outside didn't look much better - out through the door, he could see the snow has thickened considerably since yesterday evening, and the wind took down a couple of trees.
The wind.
Despite the door-shaped hole, gaping into the sleeping world like the maw of one yawning during holy mass, and the slate of ice making his paws somewhat nippy, the air was still, warm, and still carried a hint of tobacco and yesterday's cooking.
Before he could make any sense of it, the familiar sound of cursing, and the stairs creaking under heavy footsteps hit the feline's ears, and soon enough, someone resembling the owner of the tavern showed up at the stairway's upper end, the blunerbuss in his paws.
"Oskar, fuck your mother,I told him she'll blow in.. hell, I hope the bot-" The ram descended low enough to notice Chris, standing in the middle of what mess the pub had become, with two swords still in his paws and not much else, a sight which for a moment, took his breath away.
"Saint Ilja's wing in my arse, what the fuck are you doing here!? "  

Upon landing on the floor, Chris quickly realized that there was no one actually down here. Upon sliding across the floor with arms flailing, Chris quickly realized that the floor was made of ice. Upon crashing into cupboard in an undignified manner, Chris quickly realized that this really wasn't working very well. As he picked himself out of the remains of what might have been a sturdy piece of furniture many years ago, he noticed a couple of things that didn't add up. The first was that despite there being half an inch of ice everywhere, there hadn't been nearly enough moisture in the air for that to happen since he went to bed no matter how cold it had gotten. The second thing he noticed, which really would have been the first if he didn't specialize in ice magic, was that it actually was not that cold out. Not only could this not have happened naturally and must therefore be magical and thus likely instantaneous, but it could not have happened very long ago or it would be much colder in here.

Actually, in retrospect maybe that should have been obvious from other things. Common sense said that the room must have frozen over at the same time the door was ripped off, or blown off rather since the door was inside. Who or what would have done this, let alone COULD have done this completely escaped him at the time, but with how much time had passed, they couldn't have gone far. It was then that Chris heard a voice by the top of the stairs and turned to face the potential threat with swords raised. It was about that point where he noticed that he wasn't actually wearing anything.

Unsurprisingly, he suddenly found himself wishing that he knew how to make clothing out of his wings like a lot of other people in his family could, but he wouldn't be able to learn that until his headwings came in and that didn't seem to want to happen even though he did use a lot of magic. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if maybe there wasn't something wrong with him or he was just a being. Nevertheless, this was not the time to go over old self doubts and Chris still had a situation to deal with. It was too late to do anything about it now, but he recalled that his cousin Joseph frequently got caught in situations like this and despite being able to make clothes, he would pretend that is was on purpose and went on the verbal offensive to distract whoever caught him in whatever embarrassing spot. Chris decided to take a page from his book.

"I *am* standing. I *was* sleeping. Is this how you treat every guest who stays here or just the ones who actually react when it sounds like you've been broken into? Speaking of which, have you noticed your barroom is auditioning to be an ice skating rink?" Chris punctuated this last question by gesturing to the ice, the open door, and really just the general affair of things with his left hand that was still holding a sword while keeping mindful of something attacking. At this point he was starting to come under the impression that it was just the wind (albeit a magical, insanely powerful, vindictive wind), but taking chances just seemed like a stupid thing to do.

What in the world...?

No blood or entrails. This wasn't a dead person, this was some kind of stuffed deerskin dummy. The only thing more disturbing was thinking of what the original owner of this hide now looked like.

"...hello? Can you hear me?" If this was a fellow kinsman, he had some explaining to do. Oyugun tried to roll the faux-carcass on its back and felt it carefully for any remaining bones or skeletal structure, almost dreading what it would look like face-up.

Mmm, it's always nice when you don't have to wait. Jaes nodded, following behind the commander as he was lead to the teleportation landing zone, dropping his briefing packet on a nearby table as they left; he'd gathered everything he needed from it, after all. The warrant officer's steps were crisp, his motions fluid and his strides bigger than one would expect from someone of his size. He stopped on the commander's left when they arrived, as was custom for one of lower rank when standing by one of higher rank. He watched as the runes lit up, having more than a passing familiarity with the magic driving the teleportation. He was not quite capable of it himself, as his magical expertise was in a very different area, but he had studied it somewhat.

Jaes looked up...and up...and up, until he was finally looking into the face of his...rather impressively sized superior. The officer was of great stature, as was expected of a bear. If the fox had been another being, he would have possibly been intimidated. Years of military service had hardened him somewhat, however, and he merely gazed at the bear.

Not to mention, his own mother was far more impressive. Though, the bear's staggering vocal dissonance gave him a moment's pause.

Jaes snapped to attention once again when they were dismissed, and snapped a salute to the LT once their commander had left. "Sir, Warrant Officer Jaes Straken reporting for duty!"

Kallisburg
Heaving the misshapen projector aside revealed the panthress neatly pressed into what used to be carpetting, the planks underneath giving way to the impact.
Thanks, I was starting to get bored down there.
She grinned at Zanfib, and grabbed his arm with both paws, standing up.
"Allright, time to find where the mason left a hole. Ali! Get us out of here! Quick!"
The words were accompanied by a low-power psionic signal, and within a few seconds, an azure-trimmed warp-aci appeared...
Only to be pounced at by what appeared to be a small living fireball.
"Look at 'em, Zib, what a warm welcome."
Quicker than the ringtail could notice, one of the lady's wings formed a tentacle, grabbing the creature off the warp-aci, and smashing it onto a brick's edge. The fire ceased moving, its rat-like outline now more obvious.
"Ali, I said quick!"
The 'aci finally began to orbit the hapless pair of investigators, gaining speed...

A few moments later Zanfib felt the pavement cubes under his paws, and as his eyes accomodated to the sunshine, the outline of the cinema, fire engine, and several figures became visible... accompanied by an unfortunately familiar noise from his left. There, in a gap betwen two houses, Aliera was engaging in a rather unladylike activity,bent over and supported by two of the wing tentacles, her tail jerking with every stomach convulsion. The fur on the back of her head, and left shoulder was soaked with blood, slowly dripping across her arm to the pavement.
What are you staring at? And put up your mindshield, dummy!

Gorod Kur
"At ease, Warrant Officer.. Straken, is it? Not a local surname... Follow me."
The bear set off, walking in long, precise strides to one of the few masonry buildings on site, with Г-28 painted on the door with whitewash. He laid his paw on the door, nodded, then proceeded to open them. "As a squad leader, the platoon armoury passcode is 'Veldun-style rat pelmeni' - you need to say it while touching the door here" - he pointed at a place between the handle and the "leg" of the letter, noticeably worn compared to the rest of the metal. "I thought of making it something easy for you to remember."
Straight from the door, Jaes could see two carriages, each mounting a howitzer, occupying the centre of the room, as well as six figures - two gryphons chatting with a heavily furred canine, dressed much like Jaes, a wolf, looking at his pocketwatch, and a badger chatting with an eagle.
"Squad A-ttention!"
The group turned towards the lieutenant, and arranged themselves in a neat line. The wolf took two steps forward.
"I report that the members of second squad of fourteenth platoon of the Gorod Kur Permanent Army Detachment are present in full count, and have been briefed with regards to the situation and task at hand. Patrolmaster Kozin is also present, and has agreed to accompany the squad."
"At ease. Squad, this is Warrant Officer Straken, replacing Feldwebel Gavrilov as your squad leader.Feldwebel Gavrilov," The wolf's ears perked up with anticipation - "you shall accompany Warrant Officer Straken, ensuring the situation is dealt with in case he has any difficulty." - and they drooped again. "Sortie at the warp beacon in ten minutes. Dismissed."  

                                                                      *  *  *

Turning the body around caused clay fragments of varying size to break off from the bulk of the corpse's mass. The left paw necked and tore off entirely at about wrist level, staying attached to something lodged in the mud.
Not much remained that would allow this entity to pass off as a furre - torn clothing leaked a mixture of mud and clay, and the face was a mess of skin scraps beaten into the grey bulk, the imprinted pattern and fragments of bark on the surface readily suggesting the nearby trees as unwilling aides to the perpetrator.
As the remains settled into the soil, the mass of filthy clay forming the head began to twitch and ooze, two misshapen maws emerging from what might have once been forehead - the right one was all but blocked by a large, malformed tongue while the right one revealed rows upon rows of decidedly unmooselike teeth.


Derevensk
The elk stood still, his eyes appearing to stare through Fergus moreso than at him, a vaguely confused look on its face. From the front, his body appeared out of proportion, the chest stretching the suit to the point of bursting, then hanging off the abdomen, with the legs of the pants similarly appearing almost empty.
At the mention of burning, the creature began to twitch, it's jaws moving as if attempting to mouth something, its teeth distorting its maw far too much to allow any lip reading.
No later than the gryphon finishing his question, the elk leapt forth from place, flying through the air like a thrown rock, an unnatural whistle emerging from its snarling maw.
 

The new guy

"No, sir. I'm from Veldun," Jaes replied as he followed his Lieutenant. He looked around as they walked, being sure to memorize where the building was located in relation to the layout of the base. His attention snapped back to the bear, however, when he started explaining how to get into the building. Straken nodded, to let him know that he understood, and followed him in.

Once they entered, the fox's eyes were immediately drawn to his new squad, and he gave them a quick once-over. Six personnel, two howitzers. His mind was already running through possible formations and maneuvers, figuring how to best deploy his new men. As they lined up, Jaes took his spot on the Lieutenant's left, standing at parade rest as his immediate commander and the former squad leader spoke.

"Squad, Atten-HUT!" He called his men to attention as the bear left. "At ease," he said once they were gone, allowing his men to relax. Once more, he looked them all over, before addressing them for the first time.

"Greetings, men. Warrant Officer Jaes Straken, your new squad commander. I trust you all are comfortable with this change in command, and if not, I expect you to get over it quickly. I expect the same level of excellence from all those under my command as I expect of myself. I am here because I am a specialist in my field, and it is theorized that my particular brand of specialty should prove particularly effective against our foes."

"Now, at this point I would have you all introduce yourselves, but time is short. Everyone, prepare to sortie. We can get to know each other afterwards. Move!"

Just admiring the view, despite the distractions. Zanfib predictably replied, as his thoughts seemed to vanish under an invisible but impenetrable shield. Speaking of which, are you alright? We should get you to a healer as soon as possible, especially if a tussle like that is causing you to revisit your past meals in such an unpleasant manner. Zanfib sent again, and then snapped his gaze over to the two wolfdogs from earlier.

"You two!" He calls, pointing towards the wreckage. "We have just been assaulted from within there. Female, white feline, I give her a 7 out of 10. Be wary, because she is dangerous!" He says, and then looks back to Aliera. "Come, perhaps we can have Ali take us to my adobe? I can have a healer in there in moments." He suggests.

Oyugun fought his instincts to lash and whip the creature's face, instead slithering back with semi-liquid agility as the earthen being slowly congealed into something more presentable. He had half a mind to box this thing's nonexistent ears; business in Gorod Kur, and here he was being interrupted by this idiot.

"You, what's the matter?" His tone was firm, if a little authoritarian. "Taking a nap in broad daylight? What happened here?" He could only hope there was a perfectly rational explanation for where that deer hide came from.

Vlcia Polhora

"For fuck's sake, she could still be around!"  The barkeep rushed through the room, having no problem on the ice, and snatched a sack from behind the bar as he surged for the ruined doorway.  One hand supporting the bag, the other reaching in and throwing rather large particles of what Chris' nose told him was salt into the air around the break in the door while chanting.  Just in time too, as the moment he finished, a spiral of wind and ice shot over the buildings on the opposite side of the street, and dove for the break in the door.  Instead of drilling into the room to shred both the barkeep and Chris like a glass storm, the gale broke upon some invisible barrier, quickly fading when the force driving it faded.

"Hmm.. it works now... why didn't it... " The barkeep stooped in the snow, and felt around where the door had been, scratching himself between his horns with the other hooved hand. He picked up a small bit of ice, and smelled it, then tossed it into the wall."Sea salt. Zuza! Devil fuck you with a horned dick, I fucking told you to use the salt from the jar near the kegs." He suddenly noticed Chris' presence again and snarled.  "Boy, get upstairs before she comes back and decides to go through the wall this time!"

Well. That was certainly something. It HAD been just the wind. In a manner of speaking. A shrill, piercing, supernatural, self-guiding wind that was apparently a 'she'. Chris frowned at his swords and decided that they would probably not be much help. He put down the lighter one in his left hand (it would melt eventually) and held onto the magic hilt oh the other since he did not have a place to put it. He was about to take the ram's advice since he seemed to have this well in hand when a thought paused him.

"The windows and such upstairs... they're warded too right?" If the barkeeper said 'yes' or something to that effect, Chris was going to go back upstairs and put pants on. If not, he was pretty sure it was safer down here. Although come to think, he wasn't particularly prepared in case of anything, so he just went upstairs anyway to put on clothing with magical protection. Hopefully he would be able to get some answers in a little bit.

Fergus blinked at the sudden juddering flesh from a thing poorly screwed together. Adrenaline started pumping at its, that kind of thing instantly made one doubt a need for gender, and instincts chimed that a standing position was needed for a good overhead strike. The need to flee forgotten Fergus's shot a paw down to the sledge handle to put into motion a reflexive need to smash the oncoming object. Smoothly taking one balanced step back his grip accelerates mallet to put the apex of his swing where the thought of pounding tent pegs says a skull full of teeth and scream should be.

The cheering of a crowd echoes loudly in his head where it once drowned out the interest to choose,'Destroy the unclean!Destroy the unclean!'

Kallisburg

The panthress did not verbally respond, but indicated to her left, where a gryphon-drawn carriage marked in white and red was parked.  An ambulance.  She sent the Warp Aci off to the vehicle, in all likelihood to summon a doctor, then turned her attention to the wreckage, where the firefighters were swarming with renewed vigor.

From their surface thoughts and emotions, I can gather that they can't find that woman you're talking about.  We can't leave yet, I can feel a police officer close by who wants an explanation.

A second later, a phoenix woman rushed over with a satchel, and began to tend to Aliera's wounds, while a rodent briefly examined Zanfib and ruled him unharmed physically.  From the wreckage, shouts came drifting; shouts of rats made of flame, and to get the hoses.

Gorod Kur

"Sir, yes sir!"

In short order, the gryphons were hitched to the carriages, runes flowing from the straps then over the wood, and a second later, both carriages were floating six inches off the ground.  The three other indiviuals stacking ammunition into the carriages, and emergency supplies as well.  The Lieutenant dragged forth a fan boat by himself, and began to load it while the large doors which allowed such large objects to pass began to open.  
One montage of moving gear later, the fan boat was in the water, racing alongside the gryphon-drawn carriages, heading deeper into the swamp.

"Intelligence confirms that the target is a gestalt," the lieutenant roared over the din of the fan, an impressive feat with his womanly voice.  "Meaning it will be only able to move in short bursts until it loses some mass.  So the howitzers will need to reposition after every shot, or the thing will charge them.  That means there will be periods of three to five minutes where there won't be artillery support. Squad Commander, you think you can manage?"
***
The shambling mass of clay and cloth moves slightly, using it's damaged arms to try to stand, but failing several times, and slumping back into the mud as more clay oozes from it's wounds.
"No bootable drive detected....please insert boot crystal..."  A mangled voice comes from the thing's face, as bits of crystal float to the forefront of the clay there.  The thing swings at Oyugun with it's still intact arm, despite being very far out of range, and mutters: "Battery depleted...please insert new battery...," before the entire mess goes limp, and leaking at an accelerated rate.

Derevensk
The monster recoiled as the hammer struck it in the head, causing one of the antlers to snap off and strike the ground.  The monster stumbled, and rolled to the edge of the blurring background, and stood up.  From the bloody impact sight where the hammer had struck, red runes appeared, until they covered the entire monstrosity, who did not move to attack again.
An instant later, the wendigo burst into flame, burning hot and fast, until all was left of it were ashes, and a charred elk skull.  The blurring faded after that, with many customers turning to look at the scene from the smell, with obvious confusion.

Vlcia Polhora
"Yes, yes, all the fucking windows are salted...  Damnit, now I gotta get the fire going extra-hot..."  And sure enough, as Chris is upstairs, the building warms considerably.  Other guests start to make noises from their rooms, but very few actually leave them.  If Chris were to look out the window he'd see why.  Every so often, the whirlwind from before would appear, arch, and lash out a building, at one time even striking Chris' window.  But soon enough, the whirlwind appears less and less, until it seems to have gone.

Heyo Captain Jack!
Meet me down by the railroad track!

As the squad moved into action and began packing up for their sortie, Jaes stepped into his role as commander; supervising, moving from group to group, lending a hand where it was needed. As the squadron commander, it was not his place to do the grunt work. His job was to manage, delegate and, as the new guy, integrate himself into his squad.
With everyone working together, it wasn't long before they were en-route.

The Warrant Officer stood with his lieutenant, listening as he updated them on the situation. A gestalt, one of the big 'uns. He nodded to show that he was receiving the info, logging it in his mind as he was already drawing up a plan of attack. The fox paused in his planning when the LT asked him if he would be able to manage while the big guns were repositioning. He turned his head to face the bear, his reflective glasses keeping his eyes hidden. After a moment, Jaes gave his commander a wicked grin, showing sharp teeth.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't, sir."

The crisis seemed to be over, but with the sun up there was little point in going back to bed so (properly dressed this time) Chris made his way back downstairs. It was still chilled downstairs, but if it hadn't bothered him half dressed earlier, it certainly wasn't going to bother him now. Instead he went over to the barkeeper and asked, "So what WAS that? I've seen some odd things, but this one's new on me. Are such things common around the mountain range?"

As the sledge connects a skull proves to give far more than tent stakes. The rote practiced motion required by Fergus to stay upright on two legs for the next hit is broken by the unpredictable movement of flesh and bone. As Fergus lists to one side with the screaming unscrewed thing recoiling away he lets go of the sledge.  Fergus and the hammer pound to the floor of the control booth with Fergus's nervous eyes watching his weapon clatter away.

'Not good! Might need to smack it again! Kazimir, gotta get Kazimir!', Fergus says inwardly to himself with adrenaline-clenched beak.

Fergus's tail tip thumps the floor hard as he thinks unwillingly of a familiar spicy sweet smell in his nose. Through the railing he sees the unscrewed thing's well-cratered skull bleed that immolating fire instead of blood and send a fresh blast of that sent toward him. At the sight of burning flesh Fergus's throat mixes with elation, salivia, and fear for his carnival.

Workers were always nearby somewhere in earshot to hear but a similar feeling of someone from earlier struck him with further worry, "Somebody get Kazimir over here! Tox cleanup aisle chair-o-wheels! Out of place guy in army boots and heavy coat go find and watch him!"

After actually looking around for familiar faces the world with blur gone, his clear mind as much as safety, seemed a lot more reachable now which was good. Fergus stumbles up to four paws while periodically eyeing the pile of ash to keep an eye on it for the sake of the faces nearby he didn't recognize. A concern making a close second was ensuring the right people heard him. He'd have to stay here for now.

One of his limbs felt bruised from an uncontrolled hard pound on the floor with his backpack on and didn't think it good to move quickly quite yet. Through his adrenaline and dulled sense of pain he wasn't sure if he'd hurt himself bad as muted throbs made it hard to figure out where they were coming from.

Zanfib glanced over at the ambulance with mild annoyance. Entirely too convenient, and entirely too obstructive to his personnel pursuits. Oh well. Plenty of other opportunities before the night came.

She would have to be several different kinds of foolish to stay around after that stunt. However, as the authorities will have questions, so do we. Who was that, and why is she so adamant on ruining our pursuits? I did not know her. Did you?

While he waited, he decided to help with the people dealing with a rather hot vermin problem. With a telekinetic grab, he nabbed the hoses, and promptly cut the workers trip in half as he also gave the pumps a quick start.  At least it was something.

A creature with the innards of his kin, but not their voice or resilient constitution, talking as though he wasn't even there and asking for devices he didn't even know about.

This thing was no kin. It was some sort of hideous imitation with no will of its own, that reptilian part of its mind instinctively scrabbling and swiping and anything within reach. A grave insult, that anyone thought they could replicate an elemental so crudely.

Throwing caution to the wind, Oyugun slipped forward, both hands tearing through the thing's remains for anything salvageable. Something animated this beast, whether mechanical or mystical. Maybe a heart or brain suspended in the thick, soiled gel.

Gorod Kur
It wasn't long until the trees started to look damaged.  An ever widening path of dead animals, the odd upturned boat, and shattered plant life.  They were getting close.  The squad members seemed antsy, going into the same territory as a gestalt.  In short order, a great roar filled the air, and a towering figure of mud and debris was faintly visible over the treeline.  The howitzer transports started to break off from the fan boat, to take flanking positions.

It became more visible as a line of trees vanished with a tumult, the gestalt.  Corpses of people, animals, and trees roiled in the mass of bubbling mud.  It was the size of an apartment complex; five stories tall, and twice as wide.  At times it would have a vaguely humanoid shape, the two 'arms' possessing only mitten-like hands, and no features to it's face; and at other times it would be just a mass of mud oozing over the next obstacle.

Sudden movement from the gestalt, throwing some boulders it had carried within itself at the boat fan, indicated it had sighted the combat team.
***
The corpse leaves only shattered gemstones for Oyugun to retrieve.  Wisps of magic still clinging to them in places.  A few shattered pieces of ceramic indicate the presence of a water-container having existed in the creature while it functioned.

Kallisburg
The medics went to work on Aliera, while the pantheress went into deep thought.

I don't know.  She'd have to be powerful to bring down the entire front of the cinema after sneaking in, letting you see her (for if the firemen didn't see her, she could have easily avoided you), and sneaking out without anyone noticing...  Aliera's thoughts stopped as she suddenly jerked.  Gah, what was that?  Felt like someone walking on my grave.

The medics turned their attention to Aliera's back, fearing spinal damage indicated by the jerk, while sudden high-pitched screams and towering stacks of gray smoke rose out of the cinema ruins along with the roar of fire hoses.

In a few short minutes, a officer of the local police appeared.  A thin chestnut horse, in the brown overcoat with red lapels, and black cap of the police force.  He produced his shield-form badge to the medics, instructing them to back off for a few minutes.  Without missing a beat, the horse spoke: "Alexander Ustinov, Sergeant of the Kallisburg police.  Please recount the events that transpired after you entered the cinema as accurately as you can."

Derevensk

The customers didn't linger long; the adults shooing their children away from the smoke, and the injured worker gryphon.

Then it appeared.

It crawled over the chair-o-wheels, all black with shining orange eyes.  Humanoid shape, with great wings and curved appendages emerging from it's head.  Horns, most likely.  The shade crawled over the ride, toward Fergus, and as if time had slowed, gradually lifting a clawed hand to reach for him...

Something drew it's attention, for it looked to the side, and scurried off, never making a sound.  In a few seconds, thundering footsteps shook the earth, while a great bear in a clown suit appeared between the stilled arms of the ride.

"And what is it now?"  Kazimir growled, approaching Fergus, apparently having not seen the shade.
***
The master was with Zarus.  He wore the shape not dissimilar to a drowning victim for this excursion.  The shape had a lanky body, sunken flesh and eyes, straight and scraggly hair, dressed in threadbare robes of watery gray.  The two overlooked the carnival, standing unnoticed high in the air, upon a disk of solid wind.  The dust from the charred remains of the Wendigo's poppet passed along on a passing breeze.  The master's expression was apathetic, as was usual for this shape.

"Good.  He might survive if we can herd him into the company of one of the stronger ones.  Zanfib is the closest, but Chris is more likely to help a soul like him."  The master's voice was, no matter the shape he wore, as oil.  A flicker of black energy, and the shade the master had sent after Fergus appeared at his side.  The master dismissed the summon, and placed a hand on Zarus' shoulder.

In a swirl of color indicating teleportation, they were at the opera house in Kallisburg.  The master had access to a wing of the building that was not listed on the official blueprints.  The master had taken himself and Zarus to the 'throne room'.  Where the master had set up a massive chair quite similar to a throne, where he would address visitors and Zarus for the younger cubi's lessons.  Rich red carpeting, great paintings, crystal chandeliers, electric lights, and smaller and less ornate chairs for Zarus and his tutors to occupy filled the room.

Two of the three tutors were present.  The Weird sisters, as all three were known collectively, were all white felines with black hair.  Their fashion and eye colors were how they were told apart from one another.  The puppeteering and magic tutor, called Selene, was seated in her chair.  Dressed in a gothic dress of fur and belts with her hair in an elaborate headdress, her eyes purple and cold, she was sewing a poppet together and not giving Zarus a glance.

The second was much more attentive.  Phoebe was her name, and she wore her hair in rich waves.  Her simple black dress was seemingly tight on her, but would never hamper movement, around her neck was a scarf of white and orange; a gift from the master.  She wore opera cloves of black leather, and her eyes were malicious and red.  She stood, gave Zarus a kind smile, and thrust forward a bound, gagged, and bleeding blond haired dog in khakis.

"What is this thing doing here, bleeding on my floor?"  The master paid no gesture to acknowledge his two servants and guest, but strode forth to sit on his throne.

"Master, this one accidentally found a way into our secret tunnels," Phoebe purred as she spoke.  She always did that.  "He put up a surprisingly good fight, and I thought you should decide what to do with him, given he is a TiBaltic."

The master pointed to a wall, and it opened to reveal a room, the master's parlor.  Phoebe dragged the man there, ignoring his muffled screams and thrashing, then returned.

"Zarus," the master spoke again.  "Explain to Selene how the Wendigo poppet fared, and your assessment of the unit in combat."

Fergus padded over to his sledge, left hip obliging though with moments of stiff obstinacy, and responded to Kazimir trying not to talk too loudly, "I'd say I'm seeing things but I just introduced that ash pile of creature over there to my hammer! It made the world look weird. Another one that just reached for me when you got here but I think you might be getting a little good at your job if you scare that thing away! Did you see it? Why the hell isn't anyone as weirded out as I am! It's over here!"

Fergus's beak clenched with the dull throb at his hips forcing a limp over to the pile of ash and skull. He muttered wide-eyed as he went, "I'm so hungry now. I can still smell him. What the hell was this thing!"

Vlcia Polhora

The ram turned towards Chris and spat on the ice-covered floor.
"Did they pull you out from under a rock or what? The snow hag's been an old thing back when I came here, and that's got to be two decades by now. Hell, count yourself lucky I had space and will to keep you in, or someone'd have found a cat icicle tomorrow. Or worse, she could have chosen you a lover."

Through the gates of Hell
As we make our way to Heaven

Jaes was silent as they proceeded onward, just taking in the devastation the gestalt had wrought. He was not nervous, no. He was far too seasoned to let nervousness overtake him. He noticed this did not apply to the rest of his squad, however, and as they started to get antsy he decided to speak up, to reassure them in the face of their pending battle, as was his duty as their commander.

"Easy, men. Remember your training and you'll get through this, I promise."

It wasn't much longer until he could see their target, a massive conglomeration of mud, corpses and debris. Behind mirrored glasses, Jaes observed, one eyebrow rising up. He'd read the reports, but to see one of these creatures first-hand was something else.

"Big boy," the fox commented, off-hand. As the creature began to send projectiles at them, he knew they had been spotted. "Evasive maneuvers," he called back to their pilot. Jaes himself moved to the front of the boat, keeping an eye out for any boulders they would be unable to avoid, one hand open and ready.

"The howitzers should keep it occupied, as well as hurt the beast. We need to get in close so we can finish it off. Remember men, your first priority is each other. I have no intentions of losing any of you to this thing."

Zanfib had been quietly grumbling, wiping dust off his clothes with a disdainful scowl, up until the sergeant showed up. "Good morning, Mr. Ustinov. I hope you haven't had any architecture dropped on you yet today?" He said as he adjusted his hat. "Well, we were inspecting the damage, when we were attacked by a white furred feline, black hair, a black dress, long evening gloves, and blood red eyes. Mm, I'd say she was a 34C at about 34, 22, 32. Seven out of ten. She went after the supports, which brought the wall down on us. After which, she apparently vanished, but left some manner of flaming vermin to come after us. by the way, could I get a copy of this report at my residence? Thank you." He says.

Zanfib then glanced the succubi's way, quirking an eyebrow. Everything all right, dear? He inquired.

Snatching a handful of shattered gems and ceramic, Oyugun gave the remains one last, heavy glare before slithering away. This stupid thing had occupied way too much of his time already. Perhaps an elder or other learned individual could look these over sometime later.

For now, he had to reach the capital. Or whatever political figure resided at the end of this road. It seemed as though something changed every time he tried to navigate these meatbags' roadways.

Chris shrugged, ignoring the insults. "What can I say? I'm new to the area. Just passing through really. Part of the reason I stopped here, aside from having a last day or two in civilization, was to pick up supplies and information about the area. Speaking of which, what's the deal with the snow hag and what makes having her for a lover be worse than freezing to death?"

How did the unit fare? As Zarus stood there, his hands together behind his back, he pondered the situation. But, in the end, he had tell the truth. "Well, master, it was only one trial run, but, frankly, I'm not sure. It seems like it would be perfect for combat against those who are slow, with it's great movements, or, those who aren't trained to properly counter attack. But, in the end, it only took a single hit. I think I would prefer to use more sapient beings or creatures in combat, myself." As he stated his opinion, he looked toward Selene. He hoped he wasn't angering her in some way.

Kallisburg

The officer wrote down all that was said upon a notepad, then gave Zanfib a long, piercing look. "Mr. Black... those other ten individuals, were they present in the cinema, or have you met them elsewhere?" Not waiting for a reply, he added in a quiet voice "As for the report.. it's classified ...  damaging the property of prominent citizens such as Lady Aliera who's about to .."  He gestured sideways where Lady Aliera stood, a strained expression on her face. "Anyways, such crime fulfills the definition of insurgency against the gubernia, so it's classified."
The sergeant's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, an expectant look on his face.: "If you really want to see though, we could... sort it out, you know."
***
The master turned and regarded Selene, who spoke without needing prompting.  "The Wendigo poppet was developed to make use of it's time and space teleportation abilities as an assassin.  If it cannot even survive a fight with a commoner, then it is not worth further investigation."  The witch had apparently finished with her poppet.  A pantheress in black garb.  "Here, use this new poppet to replace the Wendigo.  It isn't very powerful, but you can reasonably plant suggestions and doubt into her mind with this."  The poppet floated over to Zarus, to hover in front of him.  "You know her as Zanfib's confidant, Aliera Nact'larn."

The master spoke.  "You are to stay in Kallisburg, and observe Zanfib.  The boy is great in mind-powers, so practice your mental shields and learn his servant's thought patterns as well if you intend to kill and replace one."  Without further instruction, the master stood, and entered his parlor, closing the hidden door behind him.

Gorod Kur

The Capital appeared in an hour of travel.  A poor attempt to bring civilization to the swamp, many buildings looked to be slanted as their foundations have been partially planted into muck, which gave under the weight of the structures.  Crews looked to be working on them.  The gate of the Capital shone blue with a thin skin of magic, which turned even the flies that tried to pass it into a fine powder.  A winged Ironshirt, or armored warrior, stood outside the gate and barrier, as still as the grave.  As Oyugun approached, it spoke in a grinding voice, "Name and business?"

Derevensk

"Kid, listen to me."  The mad clown looked almost kind, but was probably just thinly veiling irritation.  "You're going into shock, which means we need to get you to a medic to calm you down, give you a look-see, and find out exactly what went on here, alright?  That ash pile ain't going anywhere.

"Now quiet down, you're scaring some of the guests.  Come on, let's go see the doctor."

Vlcia Polhora

The ram just stared at Chris for a moment before speaking, "You're a virgin, ain't ya boy?  The Snow Hag's a spirit or Mythos, or something.  She's a walking blizzard and command the winds and ice any way she wants.  She walks around the mountains and passes, and can't pass any door or window laden with fucking rock salt! The ram turned and shouted the last part at the stairs, and a muffled curse followed from the upper floor.  "She freezes fuckers for some reasons, and sends others to safety.  We don't fuckin' know, or fuckin' care.  We just throw salt on everything, leave an offering of some food and silver, and wait until she's gone.  Then we try to forget she exists."

Chris frowned. "Oh please, I'm a cu-.... uu....rious person," mentally berating himself for almost slipping up. Most beings were not very tolerant of that. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I've had sex. But rock salt you say? I wonder why that would be... would a ring of rock salt keep someone safe without something solid to back it up? What about magic without the salt?"

Oyugun gave an imperceptible scowl beneath his skull. The earth itself rejected these creatures and their attempts to civilize the region, and yet they persisted. The obviousness of their futility escaped them.

"My name is Oyugun, a diplomatic envoy speaking on behalf of the earthkin." Both eyes stared straight into the winged sentry, unblinking and stern. "I must speak with your governor regarding the current... settlement efforts that your people has been taking as of late." And to tell them to quit dumping bodies of dissidents in the swamps, and to stop drying up the Bogs' outskirts, halt further placement of military personnel, and so on and so forth. But simple introductions came first.

The gryphon Looked up at Kazimir as Fergus's eyes dilated for a moment leaving a blank expression in their wake. In replying his voice lost its warm timbre, "Yes, the work comes first. You're right I just need the skull to identify later it before we go. Though this pile laying around doesn't sound like a good idea."

Fergus pulls a charred elk skull out of the ash pile then looked at Kazimir as his pupils dilated once more. While again staring at the skull Fergus's face lit up artificially from its blank expression. He resumed cheerfully, "You know I can never tell how bad it is I guess. I hit the ground pretty hard after I whacked it! How far is the doctor?"

Fergus added the skull to the top of his pack with a strap. It wasn't likely to be as heavy as the governor but the oblong load was kind of distracting. Fergus's tail wrapped around as he absently shook side to side on four legs to see how the skull sat.

Zanfib blinked a few times at the guard in apparent confusion. "Other ten indiv-.." He started in a confused tone, but then promptly sighed and gripped the bridge of his muzzle, shaking his head. "No, no, she is a seven out of ten. Just ask some of the boys in uniform back at the office what it means, okay?" He says, and then glances towards Lady Aliera with a hint of concern on his features. "She's about to what?" He asks, before catching the officer's next statement. He looks back to the sergeant, eyebrows raising both eyebrows slightly. "And, what would it entail to.. sort it out?" He asks.   

Gorod Kur

Throwing was a strong word to describe the action of the gestalt. It flexed a part of its enormous bulk, and the boulder erupted from its surface, followed by a hail of bricks. The brunt of the attack missed the soldiers by a good fifty feet, though half a dozen bricks turned a large section of the overturned boat into kindling, showering those closest with mud and splinters.
The soldiers themselves weren't sitting on their arses either. One of the gryphons ,accompanied by a pine marten in an uniform composed mostly of stitches, set up a firing position behind a massive tree log to the south of the boat, while the rest of the team took cover.
"Fire!"
Aiming the cannon wasn't particularly difficult due to the short range and sheer size of the target.The pine marten set fire to the fuse, and moments later, the gun bounced back, and a bluish flash from the muzzle left the air smelling of a mixture of sulphur and cinnamon.
The projectile delved into the bulk of the gestalt near one of its corners, sending ripples through its surface. The gestalt left the remains of a silo it's been absorbing to its fate and began to slowly crawl in the direction of its assailants.  
"Fucking dud! Fuck! They fuck up the job, but we get fucked over, the fucks. I wonder what fuck has fuckin' stuffed his pockets on the fuckin' ammo deal."  The pine marten wasn't exactly keeping his thoughts to himself, while the gryphon was chirping angrily, presumably picking his own language as the favoured medium for curses.
The gestalt began flexing to deliver another dose of debris, a boil forming on its surface.
*BOOM*
A bluish flash later, a mass of mud the size of a small garage fissured from the corner of the gestalt where the shell has landed, and dropped into the mud below with an audible splash.
The gestalt almost seemed to recoil in surprise.
"And now, fucking hope it doesn't rise up."

There is no problem that cannot be solved with the proper application of sufficient high explosives.

Jaes didn't even flinch when the boulder impacted a ways away from their boat, his attention remaining focused on the massive gestalt that was their target. He looked over to the side, watching as the first of the Howitzers took up position, lined up the shot and fired. His practiced gaze caught the telltale sign of magic from the flash, and the cinnamon smell served to further tip the Warrant Officer off to the fact that the shells they were firing were far from ordinary.

"Mmm, I do love cinnamon..." he muttered, more to himself than anything, as his eyes tracked the shell through the air and into their target, burying itself deep within. He was unable to hold back a smirk as the operator and the gryphon started cursing.

"Wait for it..."

*BOOM*

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin as the round exploded, tearing off a large mass from the gestalt. Delayed fuzing, an excellent idea. Let the round sink in a ways first before exploding, causing far more trauma as the blast wave propagates through the entire mass, instead of just over the surface.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" He yelled, "Reposition! Howitzer two, brace and fire! That's not going to be enough to stop it, and we can't let it recover! Keep pounding away at the beast until it's nothing more than a pile of muck and shattered dreams!"

Zarus took a look at the doll-like Poppet, before finally taking it. He smirked. This was going to be one of those fun missions. Of course, he should definitely treat this somewhat seriously, but, it would be interesting for him to figure out what he was going to do to hinder the Psychic being's goals. However, he figured he should get in alittle more training, probably in shapeshifting and fighting skills, first, before taking on this assignment. He looked at Phoebe and chuckled. "Mind giving me another shapeshifting lesson before I head out?"

Kallisburg
The confused expression on the horse's face betrayed that he apparently wasn't any cleverer from Zanfib's explanation. This time 'round, he let it go, in favour of a far more compelling topic.
"What would it take?" The equine sergeant's face contorted into a tortured smile: "Er, you know, the wheels turn easier when one greases them a bit.."
He made a gesture, rubbing together his finger and thumb.
"Fifty."

Zanfib looks at the guard incredulously for a moment, with a nigh unreadable expression on his face. It was hard to tell whether it was amusement.. or fury. But, before the poor sergeant could ponder it any further, the ringtail reaches inside of his coat, and drew out a small booklet. From within that booklet he tore a single, paper page out, and handed it to the sergeant.

It was a monthly pass to Nact'Larn's.. establishments.

"There you go. Use it, sell it, whatever you like, but two bits of advice for you, good sir. Firstly, make sure you get that information to me post haste, and secondly, make sure not to bruise a well to do fellow's ego with such a petty pittance of a bribe!" He says, and then promptly turns around and heads over to Lady Aliera.

"I'd say that is all we can do here, mi'lady. Perhaps we should take this information to your sisters?"

Derevensk
The medic was actually the operator of the fortune telling booth, who wasn't more than fifty paces away.  She gathered ingredients to mix them in a bowl.  Plants ground to powder, a mushroom similarly ground, three drops of a clear liquid she kept in a vial on her person, and a silver coin which exploded into dust the second it touched the mixture.  Afterward, the woman dressed all in layers of blue-colored cloth took handfulls of the mix, and splashed it upon Fergus, leaving the gryphon quite sparkly.

"Sit ten minute, not move much," She said to the gryphon and the clown, then returned to her tent, and to customers.

Kazimir loomed, standing between Fergus and his pack, examining the Wendigo skull.  "What did you say this was, again?"

Vlcia Polhora

The ram huffed.  "You need a barrier between you and the snow.  So if you have fire hot enough to melt the snow, and put salt around the area you've melted, and stay inside until she's gone.  Keep the snow from building up in where you've set the circle, or the salt won't keep her wind out."  The ram stood, and started to stamp around the room, shattering the ice under cloven hooves.  "Fire magic is the best to use, but it's hard to keep going in this climate, so use water and wind magic to keep the snow from gathering where you don't want it too.  If you can hide underground, do it.
"Curious, are you?"  The ram delivered a swift kick to sections of the bar, dislodging ice with ease.  "The witch takes your soul when she's done with you.  Uses it for her children, and puts your voice into her winds to lure other people to her."

Kallisburg
Phoebe's maliciousness spread to her smile, but a cough from Selene killed the expression quickly.  "No," the fell woman answered.  I have my own  mission to pursue.  An issue near your home town, I think, and will be gone for a while.  Your present skills need to be sufficient."  With that, Phoebe turned and walked into a shadow cast by a tall bookcase, vanishing quietly.

Selene stood and went to a similar bookcase, where jars of faintly glowing black rat-like creatures sat.  She took a small one from the shelf, and tossed it carelessly to Zarus.  "Your warp-aci for this mission," she said by way of explanation; her tone cold and her gaze directed elsewhere.  "Go."

Gorod Kur

The second howitzer fired much to the same results of the first, excepting that the debris was much more hazardous to the boat.  One such mass of mud and corpses was due to strike water near the boat, which would surely capsize them.  However, the lieutenant swung out with his small tree of a weapon, and propelled the mass away horizontally, where it exploded into a fireball after five seconds.

"It's moving," a grunt shouted.  And indeed it was, the gestalt's damaged bulk seemed to be filling the wounds, making it imperceptibly smaller.  But there was a third depression, closer to the base, which had no explanation until another grunt raised the alarm.

"It's under us!"  The water around the boat had become tan from the mud and clay of the gestalt, and the mass suddenly contracted as if aware it had been spotted.  The boat's motion stopped, and suddenly it was jerked around atop the water, before throwing the boat up into the air.

The occupants flew every which way, the grunts reaching out to soften the impact with the water, the lieutenant falling slowly somehow, was going down swinging at the mud limbs that held the boat, but Jaes...

Jaes was about to land right on top of the gestalt.

Zarus frowned, and sighed. Honestly, what was it with Selene? He may have been born into the shadow clan, but, even he wasn't overly stoic. And, neither were most of his clan mates, for that matter. They just had some degree of Professionalism. But, Selene? She might as well be an expressionless stone statue. And, the way Warp-aci were put into jars around the place. Really? They may have been mischievious, but, that didn't necessarily mean they had to be put in jar-like prisons. Heck, in their own home areas, Cubi who didn't mind the little devils as much let them roam free as pets. He sighed. Oh, well. He shifted into a black, male-wolf form, with a green shirt, shifting his head wings, and, adding them to the hair length, and, shortened his wing span to add to the shirt. He then opened the jar, setting the Warp Aci free. "Alright." He touches his hand to the Warp-aci's back. "Let's head straight to the perimeter around the Black estate, shall we-? Ummmmmmmmm...What was your name again? Gi? Gu? Giz?" He could never remember his master's Warp Aci's names well, most of the time because he didn't exactly spend a whole lot of time with them.

Getting to know you.... Getting to know all about you...

Ah, Chris knew it couldn't be just the sex that was the danger, it was the soul theft after the fact that made her deadly. Nothing he hadn't seen before among some of his family or allies of them, but he certainly wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. However from the sound of it, it was the snow that was the real threat. Keep that out of your circle and she couldn't harm you. Chris was not very proficient in fire magic, but wind was his second best element right after ice itself. Keeping snow outside with his wards should be a simple enough task. Which brought him to a very serious question... "If I find myself in need of shelter, I typically build one out of ice if it's cold enough. Will that work here with a line of salt along the inner edge or would she be able to use that against me? Is there a reason not to reuse salt? And are there any other significant dangers here besides her?"

 Gorod Kur
 The iron-clad warrior stood silent and motionless - if it wasn't for his twitching tail, one'd be lead to think he broke down. After several awkward seconds, he spoke again, his voice raspy and slow.
"You need to enter city.. .to speak with Governor? In then..." Before the armoured giant could finish, another figure, shorter, stouter, and clad in the usual militia uniform appeared from behind the gate.
"Swap time! And remember,  Broken Compass at eight toni- *cough*" The militionary, a heavyset otter, seemed to notice Oygun, and almost choked on the piece of greased bread he's been dutifully chewing on.  He drew his pistol, a standard issue muzzle-loader.
"Fucking mudflap! Back up, Ilja! Those buggers are dangerous! Remember what Oskar said they done to his uncle's farm?"
The armoured militionary stepped back, then faced the other one.
"Is not hurting anyone. Is saying wants to speak to Governor. I think."
The otter turned towards Oygun.
"Speaking to the Governor, huh? Do you have an appointment? Thought not... now, gimme the real reason you want to sneak into the city."

"I didn't come all this way to listen to some faceless grunt waste my time." Clearly unfazed by the otter's weapon, Oyugun stares deeply into the excitable militiaman's eyes. "This would be the first time a member of the earthkin has taken the first steps towards negotiation. If you wish to spurn this opportunity on your entire race's behalf, then I'm sure you would have no trouble sleeping at night should things escalate into an open conflict."

Staring closely at Oyugun's skull, one couldn't help but notice a single silver incisor in the upper jaw. "Or would you? When that day comes, and your brothers are crushed beneath an amber wave of jagged earth while mine are burned to cinders, would you stay up past the witching hour, asking yourself if it was so wise to stand in the way of peace?"

That decaying, musty odor filled the otter's nostrils. What one saw as a slimy, hideous creature spoke so uninhibitedly, the notion of such intellect in a savage creature almost terrifying. "Think very carefully about your answer. The rewards for facilitating armistice are great, as are the consequences for not allowing it."

Fergus sits down as he's told and rubs one hip.

He tries to explain but contorts his face in a sneeze first, "*aChoo!* Well it looked like an elk but smelled like blood and cooked meat while everything faded around me. Maybe that's why nobody saw it. It looked kind of bloated? The thing barely squeezed in its fancy suit except for the pants. I asked it what it wanted then the thing leapt at me!"

Fergus makes a swinging motion, "After I smacked the thing it bled red writing then exploded. I'm not sure where I even should look to find out what it is. I remember thinking it reminded me of something. When'd I go? no... wendigo?"

I've had enough
I'm taking you down

Jaes was pleased with how things were progressing. They had managed to land two shells on the gestalt already and, while the debris was coming closer to the boats, the Lieutenant was doing an admirable job of deflecting it. Barring an unforseen catastrophe, they had the engagement in the bag.

Unfortunately, no plan survives contact with the enemy.

The Warrant Officer continued to issue orders, directing his troops. However, the exclamation of one brought pause to his words.

"Under?"

Jaes thoughts were cut short by the sudden turmoil as the ship was flung into the air, and the occupants were scattered. It took him a moment to gain his bearings as he flew through the air; he could see where his soldiers were, as well as his commander. He noted with relief that they seemed to be fine. In the next instant, he took note of the fact that he seemed to be bearing down on the main mass of the gestalt. He did not worry, though. Rather, he saw this as fortuitous. A grim smile spread across his muzzle as he kicked his legs out, twisting his body around so that he was coming at the gestalt head-on. Briefly, he turned his attention to his troops and yelled, "Clear out," though he was unsure if they heard or not. Just before impact, he brought his arms up to shield his head and took a deep breath as he plowed into the mass of mud.

At this point, several things happened in very quick succession. First, the fox took a reading of the vibrations his impact had caused, from which he derived the gestalt's resonance frequency.

Second, Boom.

Finally, Jaes focused his magic and released a powerful blast wave, attuned to the resonance frequency of the gestalt itself, and directionally shaped to propagate through the mass, in order to cause as much damage as possible.

Gorod Kur
The blast propelled Jaes out of the monster, and as he flew, he could faintly see the wave of explosive force clearing away something in the debris that looked distinctly like an oil drum.  The drum burst from the explosion, and the friction from the detonation caused it to ignite.  The gestalt seemed to noticeably slow with a portion of itself on fire, but didn't have time to react, as a howitzer round impacted the side opposite of Jaes' exit.

Jaes himself was blown clear of the now burning monster, and into a tree with great force.  He would become idly aware that he had bits of flaming oil stuck in his fur and clothes at odd places, but the mud was helping retard the fire.
The aggressive little man answered by pulling back the primer for his weapon, and looked about to fire when something light brown and distinctly biscuit-shaped struck him in the back of the head.  Up upon the wall there was a white-furred feline all in black, with short black gloves.  Though she was skinny as could be, the base shook with her footsteps as she turned from the scene, calling down: "Let him pass."

The otter looked about to argue the point when another biscuit sailed through the air and lodged itself into his open mouth, and suddenly he was much more interested in not choking to death.  Without fanfare, the gates had opened during this development.
Kallisburg
The woman looked up at Zanfib blearily.  "Yes.  Yes, let us do that."  She stood up, pushing the doctors aside with a frail echo of her former fierce expression.  The warp aci began to circle them, leaving trails of distorted space.

Zanfib would suddenly feel the police officer's mind not being present anymore. Or his body, if he cared to look.  The horse had just vanished off the face of the earth the second Zanfib stopped looking directly at him.  The world blurred, and suddenly they were in a lobby of a building seemingly modeled after a Gothic Church, laden with black-upholstered furniture, black trappings on the windows, and red bulbs in the light sockets.  A ferret sat at the reception desk, in similarly Gothic attire, peered over his glasses for a moment, then casually started making a call, placing a hand over the receiver long enough to tell Aliera "Your mother wanted to talk to you when you arrived, Ma'am," before returning to it.
"Ch'yah!   I'm Gigi!"  The little glowrat was modeled after a snake in it's form, and had a white glow to it, but no clan symbol.  The Master liked that no one could use them to identify him.   "One swanky mansion, coming up!"  The world blurred, and Zarus came back to it atop the roof of the tallest building in the area around the Black manor.  The structure seemed to be empty, only a few faint emotions coming from the grounds, not the buildings proper.

Vlcia Polhora
The ram continued to move and kick ice while he talked.  "Don't use ice structures.  You can't ward the roof with the salt without wrecking the structure, and she can just drop the roof on you if you go without.  Find somewhere with a stone roof, if you can."   Having finished with the counter, he started stomping along the floor to the stairs, leaving sizable dents in the floor ice.  "The salt melts into the snow once it's done its work, kid.  Would be a fuckin' godsend if we could reuse the stuff, it ain't cheap.    Aside from her, there's always snow hazards.  Crevices, avalanches, thin ice.  Not a whole lot of monsters can survive the same territory as the hag."

Derevensk
As Fergus sits, he feels the pain in his hip to slowly melt away, not quite gone yet, but lessening.  Kazimir tenses up, and slowly looks at Fergus.  "This is a Wendigo skull.  You killed a Wendigo."  Kazimir drops the skull, and promptly puts his face into his hands.  "Do you have any idea how hard it is to kill a Wendigo?  The damned things can travel through space and time to be where their victims are, and you killed one?!"  Kazimir suddenly looks up.  "How did a Wendigo appear in here, and none of our sensors pick it up?  I told her to replace the damned things, but no!  Too expensive she said!  Gods damnit!"  Kazimir kicked a tire for one of the mobile carts that was in his reach, and promptly yelped as he applied too much force, and injured his toe.

With a slow, heavy glance, Oyugun looked up at the walls before slithering forward. He directed one last glare towards the stocky otter.

"The fairer sex always were the more reasonable of your kind."

That would do for now. Let the guards have their fun standing in place for hours on end; he had important things to discuss with important people.

Fergus blinked as he leaned forward a bit to be more comfortable, "I guess the hammer's more useful than I thought. Though now that you describe it I don't think I want to try my luck again on whacking dead something like that!"

His tail twitched in thought as he considered Kazimir, "Though even if the sensors were new they might not pick it up? It must have got here from somewhere without tripping anything in between. Maybe are they like zombies or something! Can you reassemble them on-site? There was a jackboot here that I saw earlier I hollered for someone to track them down but I don't think anyone heard.  Black boots and a heavy coat that looked really out of place."

Fergus twitched as remembering something hurt, "Is Em safe, Kazimir? I mean we don't know there's not more of the things around and it doesn't sound like she could outrun it."

Fergus's tried to hold onto the thought but it kept pulling away to leave his brow intermittently contorted in contemplation.

"Hmm..." Chris murmured thoughtfully to himself. The snow issues he was pretty sure he could handle, they fell strictly in the line of 'regular hazards' that he already knew how to prepare for. As long as the mountains weren't inherently magical and this crone kept any other competition away, this seemed perfectly feasible, even if he wouldn't be able to rely on his ice magic. While he was thinking he figured he may as well be helpful and so used some of that magic he wouldn't have practical use for later to help clear out the ice without damaging what lay beneath it.

As he worked, he considered a few more mundane aspects of this trip. It would not be the first time he'd been mountain hiking before, but it would certainly be the most challenging. Still, he was pretty sure he knew how fast he would be able to travel in a day and comparing it to the distances and heights of the map he'd used to pick this place for crossing, he estimated how long it would take him to get safely to the other side. He tacked on a bit of extra time just to be sure and then asked the Ram what the best way to get enough salt for that amount of travel time would be. He would also have to consider other supplies such as perhaps food, but he should already have most of what he needed for that anyway.

Gorod Kur

The otter responded with a stare of hate, but proceeded to stow his pistol back behind his belt, slowly walked off to the guardpost.
He stood still, thrust a hand into his pocket...
"Ilja, you arse, the goddamned keys!."
His less astute friend , already a good few dozen feet away, rushed back, the keys proudly rattling against the side of his armour.

Watching the spectacle for a moment, the white feline approached Oygun.
"That'd be the all-seeing eye of our justice you met right there, the Militia. Sometimes it feels like it needs glasses, and pretty thick ones."  The cat giggled.
"Anyways, I heard you need to get an audience with Mayor Zirinovsky. Mind if I come along? I need to handle a few things there anyways, might as well have someone to chat to while we'll be standing in line. Damn tax forms."

Friends were a precious commodity in this line of work; refusing her, especially after she got him in, would be a stupid move. He gave her a look, then a quick, casual nod.

"I suppose there's no harm in it," he said, slithering effortlessly across the damp earth. "I can only hope they handle things with some priority. I'm not some idiot farmer applying for more land, I'm actually here on very important business." Oh that was a laugh. The grand bureaucracy didn't much care for its own people, much less the people who dripped and mussed their clean floors. "I am Oyugun, by the way. And you, madame?"

The sudden transport was a bit disorienting, and Zanfib took a moment to get his senses, and then he briefly looked about for a moment. "My, but the decorum here is just smashing." He comments wryly, before looking over to Aliera. "My my, a visit with mother dearest? You haven't been naughty have you, dear?" He asks, smirking a bit, and then turns to ask the ferret. "Sir, if I might bother you, I don't suppose she would mind me attending as well? We've had a bit of a fiasco at the theater, I'm afraid." He asks politely. A rare thing from the ringtail, but he always did like this clan...

Zarus took a few seconds to get adjusted by his surroundings, then- "Ahhhhhhh, so, there's noone in the actual buildings. Maybe just a couple of servants out and about? Should probably just observe the grounds for now, see what's going." He then began looking out from the roof to where he had felt the emotions coming from, to see whom they were coming from.

Vlcia Polhora
Having cleared most of the bar and the area behind it, the ram straightened up for a moment, and cracked his joints. With a thoughtful expression, he looked at the feline incubus once again.
"Hmm, you wanna get rock salt... yer best bet is a quarry... what, twenty miles off here? Lemme show ya, a paper would be handy now...." The ram shuffled inside one of the drawers, took out a yellowing scrap, and suddenly, there was a pencil in one of his hooves. "Here.. you take the road south, then go right at the junction,  then straight at the next one, pass through the Stary Bor settlement, then go southeast, by their church.. at that point anyone will knew where the salt mine is... and say, if ya get a sack or two for me, I might well spare you a few pounds for no charge at all.  Deal?"
The ram pushed the bit of paper towards the leopard, and stretched out one of his hooved arms towards him.

Kallisburg

The emotion readings coming from below were fairly diverse, alternating quickly and seemed to come from stationary sources. In other words, pretty much everyone seemed to be fast asleep, at least the ones close enough to feel. Zarus felt a number of weak signatures scuffling along in the walls, their excited minds radiating simple thoughts and emotions.. feelings of hunger, curiosity, fear, or mating urges. No wonder - it was spring, and after the scarcity of winter, noticeable even in the manor's stockpiles,  the rats were eager to get their fill of life.
The night was rather warm and clear, the moons staring curiously at the sleeping land below, and by their light, Zarus could see no less than four possible entry points - the chimney chute, a balcony, and the attic windows.
Suddenly, the greenish-glowing warp-aci disappeared from sight, reappearing with a flicker.
Ch'yah! Master sends ya a message! Tells ya to watch out for gargs and oils or something. The warp-aci seemed preoccupied by some sort of a bug flying nearby, watching it carefully for a few seconds before flying forth like a bullet, swallowing the insect.
It was the luckiest in today's expedition, having found itself teleported into a tropical region of Furrae thousands of miles away, where it feasted on nectar and spawned a sizable hybrid progeny, causing a violent debate among Furraean entomologists in the years to come.
Zarus was not quite so lucky, for as soon as he thought about the implications of the message, he felt the weak presence of something vaguely resembling a mind from one of the mansion's towers.
Two blue, burning eyes staring at him seemingly from the stonework itself.




Lady Aliera didn't respond to Zanfib's comment, but he could see a smile spreading through her face. In the meantime, the ferret bureaucrat seemed consternated by such a bold assertion. He pushed up his glasses, and began in a nervous voice: "Weell.. she didn't specify, but if I were to hazard a guess it'd be slightly.. inappropriate for a Sir who isn't a family member and happens to be a being to-"
"I think she'll have to endure this time,  Ivar... If nothing else, I need him to prop me up." The panthress demonstratively rested herself against Zanfib's shoulder, and he could hear a faint mental whisper.
He's just fucking with you, his preferred food is righteous indignation.    


Gorod Kur

The cat apparently shared Oygun's sense of humour, giggling again at the assertion of importance.
"Silly. The only surefire way of getting them to notice would be if you dripped gold instead of mud... but then they'd get into a fight over it and there'd be no one to deal with you again." She artfully dodged a commoner carrying a bulky crate, and pointed the pair across a street and and over to the northwest.
"Oygun.. a curious name. Any idea so as to what it means? Oh, and I'm Luna... a boring name, huh? Well, I suppose given that my mother was rather keen on stars, should be glad I didn't end up Betelgeuse."
As they walked through the city, Oygun could well notice the building arrangement becoming denser, streets getting somewhat cleaner, and uniforms popped up more often among the general populace.

Oh, geez, that could not possibly be good. Blue eyes staring at him, and realizing he was there was not a good thing. It could belong to any number of people. A guard, a snoopy Fae, one of his hits come back to life-Ok, not really, he hadn't heard about of his getting reanimation in a while-OR, it could be a spy from another group whose interests conflicted with his master's. He turned to the Warp Aci. "Gigi, get us into that tower, Stat."

Chris found himself mildly confused by the Ram's words. Likely you had to pay to get salt and if Chris was the one to fetch the bags, wouldn't he own them anyway? Likely the idea was that Chris would buy the salt himself and then 'sell' it back here which seemed like a fairly good idea except.... how much did salt cost? Chris had some money, but it was hardly a LOT. It would probably be more than enough, especially if he was being recompensed for it. Plus this was the sort of thing you did while adventuring. Probably. Maybe. If he was being honest, Chris would admit that he really did not know much about adventuring. Mostly however, Chris wasn't honest about that and he was absolutely certain that random good deeds and saving people from trouble was what adventuring was totally about.

So while there was a bit of stuff to deal with still, Chris grinned and took the ram's hand in his. "Sounds like a deal!" he exclaimed. "Just to check though, is there anything I need to do to get some or do I just flat out buy it and at what price?" As he waited for an answer, he picked up the makeship map to study a bit while trying to remember if he needed anything else before leaving.

[spoiler]Lady Aliera didn't respond to Zanfib's comment, but he could see a smile spreading through her face. In the meantime, the ferret bureaucrat seemed consternated by such a bold assertion. He pushed up his glasses, and began in a nervous voice: "Weell.. she didn't specify, but if I were to hazard a guess it'd be slightly.. inappropriate for a Sir who isn't a family member and happens to be a being to-"
"I think she'll have to endure this time,  Ivar... If nothing else, I need him to prop me up." The panthress demonstratively rested herself against Zanfib's shoulder, and he could hear a faint mental whisper.
He's just fucking with you, his preferred food is righteous indignation.   [/spoiler]

Zanfib quirked an eyebrow for a moment, but then a slow smirk crept across his face. Really? He sent telepathically, a power that had garnered both amusement and awe from cubi-allies, Honestly I would have taken no offense if I'd been turned away. But what a curious fellow this one is. En guard, I say.

Zanfib reached into his coat pocket, and drew out a lavish card. "Nonsense. Here, a business card, proof of my fame." He said, presenting it before he walked on with Aliera.

It wasn't a business card at all, merely a well made and polished photo of a couple involved in, erm, scandalous accords. It was a prank Zanfib typically reserved for the overly stuffy nobles looking down their nose at him. Usually garnered hilarious results, but sometimes disturbing ones, such as when the aforementioned nobles pocketed the card for later uses.

"It means wisdom," he replied, "an element that's sorely lacking in these settlements." Though it certainly wasn't lacking in timber and solid construction. It looked like the hub had a good foundation, all things considered.

That vexed him.

"...Luna, if you don't mind my asking, why exactly are you following and, presumably, helping me for? Aren't you at all disgusted or threatened by my kind?" Oyugun stopped short of bumping into another pedestrian, giving them a droll look before continuing along. "Your people have an ugly tendency to gossip. What would they say if they saw you by my side?"

Kallisburg
"The warp-aci complied, and began orbiting the incubus at a breakneck speed, swishing its tail back and forth. Soon the world disappeared and re-formed in a manner that'd prompt many a furre to yodel groceries. Not so much Zarus though, after all between the considerable amount of things his superiors could hold against him, having a weak stomach wasn't on the list.
He appeared inside the tower, specifically, a wooden staircase covered in a red carpet. Even up here, his feline sight was able to recognise a number of portraits of sparsely dressed ladies of various ages ,shapes, races and species hanging on the walls - a sure sign he was at the right place. The air was slightly stale, with just a faint hint of perfume, probably a lady of some sort passing through a few hours earlier, or one of the  female servants. A window roughly two flights of stairs above seemed firmly shut-
*CRASH*
Suddenly it rained glass shards and splinters, as a winged black shape forced itself through the window and a good part of the frame. The same blue eyes he has seen before were burning through him, their light obscuring detail of the creature.



For a split second, the ferret's brow seemed to rise up to the level of his ears. Moments later, he burst into rather nasal laughter.
"Very good. Both the prank, and  the lady in question. Mind if I keep this?"
Somewhere behind Zanfib, Lady Aliera groaned.
* * *
If the house itself seemed like a spicy parody of a church, then the room they have reached through a door cleverly merged into one of the walls themselves did a good job of resembling the nave. A massive chandelier shedding soft light onto wall reliefs and paintings depicting prominent Nact'larn clan members and a variety of sexual positions alike, soft, three inch thick fluffy crimson carpeting, a number of incense burners giving out a heavy, sweet scent, and at the back of the room, a large statue of Nact'Larn herself, her hands crossed on her chest, holding an ankh, a book, a feather and a riding crop in her four wing-tentacles.
At the foot of it stood a curvy lion succubus, her waist-long black hair probably doing more of a service to decency than the semi-transparent gown she wore. Despite probably being over two millenia old, she didn't look a year over forty, even thirty wouldn't be a bad guess. As the pair approached closer, she spread her hands and spoke in a deep alto.
"I have been expecting you. Speak your desires, stranger, and the High Priestess of Pleasure shall consider them her co-"
"Grah! We don't have time for this, mother. The biograph burned down, and it wasn't an accident."


Gorod Kur

The cat kept smiling. "Because I'm bored... and when we'll arrive, you'll soon find out why that's the case. You have *no* idea about the lines that the place has. And as for your second question... my father did a fair amount of work on the inorganic life living around the marshes here, and it did brush off a bit... let's just say that while other kids had dogs, cats, mows ,arachspearians or warp-aci, I had a terrarium with a mud anemone. That said... a lot of the same could be said about your kind, no? What made you come have a chat with the 'meatsacks', rather than scaring peasants for shits and giggles?"

Vlcia Polhora

"Don't go above five gryvna for a sack, and make sure it isn't wet. Oh, before you leave..."
The ram walked off through a door near the pult Chris has barely noticed before.
The map was rather messily drawn, and definitely not to scale, but the intersections were marked reasonably well, and the ram even included helpful notes like "about a hour's walk", "they sell good sausage" or "watch out for", though what to watch out for wasn't really intelligible.
In the meantime, two of yesterday's patrons, the lynx and one of the dogs have come downstairs, and took their seats, giving little notice to the incubus. For a while, they sat silently, then, the dog took out a mouth organ and began to play a melody.
Chris has definitely heard it before - a folk ballad about a young man leaving his wife to fight in the army, returning only to find a succubus in her place, and paying rather dearly for his shoot first, think later policy, as it turned out to be her.
Finally, the barman returned, with a tied cloth. "Here, got you some bread, sheep cheese, dry sausage, and a bottle of liquid courage for the way. May the Three watch over you."

...work on inorganic life, huh? His chest tightened. Or, more accurately, the center mass he'd stored the crushed jewels and ceramic pieces in tightened. But he couldn't show her those things; how did he know he could trust her?

"I leave the peasant-scaring to the children," he said with a gurgling chuckle, "This is something important. My people have grown very... irritated with yours lately. The farming, the uprooting, the terraforming of lands that belong to us. I'm here to reach some kind of agreement before a war breaks out."

Oyugun gave a look around as he continued along. "I'm not sure just how eager these men are to kill people, but suffice to say, it would be a bitter and disgusting conflict for all involved."

Derevensk

"No no no. If a Wendigo wants you dead, you're dead.  They can travel through time and space to be where their victims are.  Not their near-misses."  The bear began to pace.  "It should have triggered something once it began to attack...and taking them apart would take a day, putting them back another.  We can only afford that while traveling."

Fergus' injuries now only hurt when he actively moved them, and his sparkles were starting to fall out of his fur.

"To answer your question, though, Em is perfectly fine," called a new and much peppier voice than Kazimir's, as a calico cheetaur appeared in view from around a tent.

Fergus raised his hands in the air, "Em! I was worried you might be in trouble!"

He gets down from the chair but hobbles stiffly aiming to sit at the wendigo skull. Fergus lifts it high and grins, "I defeated a wendigo in *twitch* name! Do you know any victory songs?"

The 'your' he'd meant to say was robbed from his train of thought  Fergus didn't notice but continued his bright smile looking at Emory. The hair on his head raised but for five fat divots.

Chris smiled happily as he accepted the map and the food with a cheerful 'thank you' as he set off on his way. He waved at the two patrons as he passed, starting to hum along to the ballad which his mother had used to sing to him as a child. Of course with them the tone was a bit different, less a warning of shoot first ask later and more a warning about how dangerous it can be to let people know what you are. Thoughts of his childhood led to thoughts of his mother, wonderful person that she was. Chris almost felt bad about having run away to go adventuring, but was sure she would understand. After all, she'd had her own wild days in her youth if the clan gossip was anywhere near true. Plus she had been smothering him too much. A fellow needs to live his life after all.

These ponderings made him wonder how the search party she had no doubt hired was doing. With luck, once they read his farewell note they would still think he was somewhere in the country or perhaps be searching the ports hoping to intercept him before he made it out. Still, when they didn't find him trying to leave at the ports they would eventually figure out he'd gone an unconventional way so he only had so much time. Losing the trail once he got into Kebre shouldn't be too hard seeing as how there were so many places to go. Still he had to get there first and 20 miles wasn't terribly far especially when you can fly although the journey back with salt bags would be slower. So once he reached the edge of the town, he took off and flew in the direction of the salt mines, flying low enough not to attract attention, but high enough to easily clear hills and such. He made sure to pay attention to where points of interest were, and he'd be keeping an eye out in the area of the mystery thing, but getting to the mines should be easy breezing from here. It was early morning as yet and at the speed he was flying he was pretty sure he'd make it there in time for lunch. Which should leave plenty of time to get back to the inn before dark, even weighed down by salt.

As Jaes flew through the air, he had plenty of time to think. He saw the explosion he managed to set off inside the creature, and mentally patted himself on the back for his success. That would certainly help in taking the damn beast down. His celebration was cut off, however, when he remembered that he was currently flying through the air at a relatively high velocity. He glanced back, in the direction he was soaring, and took note of the rapidly approaching foliage, and one tree in particular that he seemed to be heading straight towards.

...This is gonna hurt.

He blacked out for a moment after that, coming to a few seconds after the actual impact. His head and back throbbed, the world spun, and he was vaguely aware of a faint burning smell. He blinked a few times, and everything came into focus. The fox looked down, taking stock of himself, and idly noticed that the burning smell was, in fact, coming from him.

And now I'm on fucking fire. =3=

Ignoring the pain from the movement, Jaes pat out the flames and, with a groan, pushed himself to his shaky feet, using the tree for support. He looked towards the Gestalt and his men, to see what progress they had made, and started making his way back towards them. Injured or not, there was still a battle to win.

[spoiler]For a split second, the ferret's brow seemed to rise up to the level of his ears. Moments later, he burst into rather nasal laughter.
"Very good. Both the prank, and  the lady in question. Mind if I keep this?"
Somewhere behind Zanfib, Lady Aliera groaned.
* * *
If the house itself seemed like a spicy parody of a church, then the room they have reached through a door cleverly merged into one of the walls themselves did a good job of resembling the nave. A massive chandelier shedding soft light onto wall reliefs and paintings depicting prominent Nact'larn clan members and a variety of sexual positions alike, soft, three inch thick fluffy crimson carpeting, a number of incense burners giving out a heavy, sweet scent, and at the back of the room, a large statue of Nact'Larn herself, her hands crossed on her chest, holding an ankh, a book, a feather and a riding crop in her four wing-tentacles.
At the foot of it stood a curvy lion succubus, her waist-long black hair probably doing more of a service to decency than the semi-transparent gown she wore. Despite probably being over two millenia old, she didn't look a year over forty, even thirty wouldn't be a bad guess. As the pair approached closer, she spread her hands and spoke in a deep alto.
"I have been expecting you. Speak your desires, stranger, and the High Priestess of Pleasure shall consider them her co-"
"Grah! We don't have time for this, mother. The biograph burned down, and it wasn't an accident."
[/spoiler]

Zanfib always did like the interior design of Nact'Larn. And not just for the, ahem, appreciable art either. While he idly tested the shag carpet with a toe, he spoke to Aliera. "Come now! Let her have her show, tis half the fun after all." He said, and then smiled to the lioness. "Do pardon her. Seems the mother's patience is yet to pass to the daughter, but the situation is rather dire. Both of us were attacked by one woman," He says, and then briefly lists off the details of the strange woman, ".. and then she vanished. Quite a mess, really."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Seems a being or creature of the feminine side of things was in here. But, how can I learn more about-" Then, the crash. "OH, GEEZ!" He attempts to move backwards to avoid the glass, and then, shields his eyes with one of his hands to block out the burning blue eyes, and pulls out a knife with the other. "Alright, who are you and what are you doing here? I might not be on the guest list myself, but, I'm sure breaking someone's window is more rude and invasive. Even if I might have done so myself a time or two in the past."

Kallisburg

The response to Zarus's question was a snarl, and the creature leapt off the frame, lunging towards him in almost freefall, wings pulled back to decrease its air resistance. As it approached, Zarus could just about make out its complexion resembling granite, and what was rather more worrying, the long, sharp claws it bore on its forelegs.


The older of the two succubi frowned. "Quite a mess indeed. Could be competition... or some Church-addled guardian of public decency, though those tend to be beings. Either way, it's odd-"
"-that she went through the trouble of waiting for us in the mess, almost killed us with little exertion, then didn't bother to make sure we stay dead... I can't get my head around it either."  her daughter added, looking thoughtful. "Either she screwed up hard, had other business there and we disturbed her, or wasn't even one of those that set fire to the building. Or a combination of those."
High Priestess Symmachia spoke again, one of her paws cusping her chin.
"Regardless, this is an insult to our clan, and we won't stand to it. The biograph shall be rebuilt as soon as the rubble is cleared. Call Eriani ,there were a few aspects of the architecture that could be done better the second time. And we'll get a night guard - I know an Owona incubus with an appropriate sense of humour.  As for the woman..."
She waved a tentacle towards  Zanfib in an inviting gesture.
"Come closer, and allow me a sight of her visage."


Somewhere southeast of Vlcia Polhora

The air was cold and crisp, and the sky clear... well, as clear as it went in this part of Furrae at this part of the year, which meant that the sky was only partially covered in snow-laden clouds. Despite the poor quality of the map, Chris could just about make out the features described therein - the road leaving the town was pretty obvious, the indicated crossroads fit in number and in position too, if you took into account the peculiar scaling, and already,  Chris could see a bit of what probably amounted to Stary Bor - the  rough outlines of a few ugly squat houses and a church tower.
"CHIIIIIII"
A loud, grating screech coming from somewhere to his left, where, at the border of his peripheral sight, he could actually see a dark shape, still rather far into the cloudy sky to be properly and meticulously identified, if anyone cared for it, but rapidly closing up the distance.

Ah, Stary Bor... Chris was making excellent time if he was halfway to the mines already. At this rate he figured he'd make it there early enough to have lunch and still have about six hours to get back before dark. Tough, especially while carrying a large sac (Chris wasn't sure he could manage two), but hopefully it wouldn't be too bad. All in all, one of the easiest quests he had encountered yet. Unfortunately, even though he hadn't said it out loud fate still seemed to have heard him as just then a 'CHIIIIIIII' cried out from nearby.

With a startle, Chris turned his head in that direction and his eyes abruptly widened as he saw the shadow. The innkeeper had said there were no monsters nearby on account of the snow hag, but that could only be a Gryphon C. "Oh crap!" Chris exclaimed and, aiming for a nearby snow bank, hit the ground like a landlubber getting off a month long sea voyage. Like his cousin Ruth after his fourth tequila. Like the popularity of the Oakley Band after that recent Strutherword Scandel. Like a cheap hooker that had been... well... you get the idea. Rule number five of adventuring: Never mess with anything more than five times your size if you can avoid it. So hiding in a bank of snow, Chris waited to see what would happen before making his next move.

Gorod Kur

The battle was going mixed, it seemed.  The Lieutenant was still falling, albeit slowly, swinging his heavy mace with great speed, and utterly destroying the gestalt tentacles which rose up to swat at him with powerful explosions; this was tempered by the gestalt seeming to shrink, a second later revealing to be expanding into the water, and attacking the howitzer crews directly, leaving them unable to stop and fire.  As if the situation was not bad enough, the main body of the gestalt began to distort under the flames, before launching a tentacle of flaming clay from the body, through the air, right at Jaes.

The cat seemed to grin.  "They are itching for a fight.  One of the neighboring countries to theirs has been building up power or provoking them in some way; I care little for the specifics.  But they've been training their soldiers as if in wartime, and promoting officers with eagerness to fight.  Fortunately, only small amounts of their forces are adapted to this climate, so they can't use you and your people as scapegoats to whet their appetite."

Zarus sighed. "Really?" As the creature freefell toward him, he would unsheathe the tentacles from his left wing, and attempted to use them to lash at the creature, and hit it toward the other side of the tower. Then, if successful, he would turn himself to face the creature, unsheathe his right wing tentacles, and get into a battle stance, one that would rely mainly on combat using his wing tentacles. "I suppose if you won't or can't talk, I'll have to rip apart your statue-like body." He smirked. "Or, subdue you, at the very least. My master might be able to get something out of you yet."

Not yet, anyway.

Maybe he gave these cretins too much credit. They'd been here fifty years and still hadn't fully adapted to the terrain. At this point, they were more a danger to themselves than anyone else. Countless gawking earthkin confirmed it over the decades as they stared from the outside in. But none of them had really gotten close or intimate with the local soldiery. None of the tribe was yet foolish enough to provoke them directly.

"Yes, well," he rumbled, "for their sake and the sake of everyone here, let's hope your silkshirts can listen to reason. How much further is the governor's dwelling?" Even though the terrain wasn't altogether different within the walls, Oyugun felt disconcerted. These man-made facades upset his proverbial stomach.

Zanfib listened to the conversation between the two, nodding slightly. They were right. Far, far too much was out of place here.

But then the gesture came, and Zanfib smiled as he approached, and lay a hand on her shoulder. Direct links were made more powerful by a physical connection, and Zanfib placed crystal-clear copies of his memories of the woman in question into the succubus' mind...

.. and then a few memories of encounters with the Nact'Larn clan and the emotions associated with them, just because he could. A surprise treat for the succubus, perhaps, but maybe not such a surprise with the ringtail's reputation.

Kallisburg

Upon initial contact, Zarus found that the creature weighed a considerable amount greater than he had presumed.  Enough that Zarus only changed the descent course slightly, to land about a foot away from crushing him.  However, both had overlooked one thing.  The walls and ceiling of the room were solid, strong stone.  The floor, on the other hand, was wood structured to hold up ornaments placed on the next floor below, not to endure heavy shocks from above.  Thus, when the gargoyle did impact the floor, a massive crunching noise split the air, followed by the screech of splitting timbers.

Down they fell, until they hit the next floor, which happened to also be wood, and crunch, and the process would repeat, growing in greater noise, and refuse falling through the air, thus adding more and more weight to add to the next floor.  And so this continued, all through the tower, with Gi-Gi sobbing as they fell: "The Boss is going to kill ussssssss~"

The older 'cubi's face twisted in confusion.  "There is something here, fogging up the memory.  Every time I view it, it is a different woman.  There is witchery afoot here, perhaps some enchantment to prevent you forming proper memories about how she looked.   ...Are you sure it was a she?"  Then Aliera became the focus of the older succubus' stare.  "In more than one place, it seems.  What is the matter with you?"

"Of course I'm fine" Aliera grinned. "Thought that the health benefits of being crushed by masonry are common knowledge. I heard it's great for the fur, too."

"Don't be smart with me missy, I'll have you put into an ICU until we have this fixed.  At any rate; see that you visit the clan healers."  The elder succubus kept physical contact with Zanfib, not reacting to the extra feedback while talking with the younger, before putting her card into Zanfib's jacket.  "Yes, yes, good doing business with you too.  Call me, we'll make 'music' together."  And at that moment a tower of smoke appeared in the distance through one of the windows.  The two women just stared at it, for a second, then Aliera spoke.

"Isn't that your house, Zanfib?"

Zanfib had just began to smirk at the thoughts of such sweet, sweet music, but he was momentarily distracted by the rather rude appearance of a column of smoke in the distance. He immediately knew where it was coming from, but his ego, his arrogance denied such a preposterous theory from the keen calculations of his logical half. But when Aliera's simple utterance confirmed it, denial became simmering anger, and Zanfib's vain tail began to bristle.

"Pardon me, ladies, but might I bother you to loan me a warp-aci?" Zanfib said through partially clenched teeth.

If it wasn't bad enough already that a heavy Gargoyle crashing, and causing them to fall, the stupid Warp-aci had to make things work with it's talking. "Knock it off!" He quickly went to unsheathe one of his daggers with his right hand, and, attempted to force it into the wall once unsheathed to stop his descent. Of course, depending on how fast they were falling, his right arm might have been decently damaged. "Gi-Gi, teleport us out, preferably somewhere away from the mansion area, but, where we can still see what's happening outside of the tower!"

Derevensk
"A wendigo in name huh?  Was it not a wendigo in deed?"  The cheetaur chuckled a bit.  "Kaz, you need to go talk to the higher ups, the madame wants to know what happened."  The bear didn't hesitate, and left.  The cheetaur moved to sit next to the gryphon, and started poking a patch of sparkles on his side.  "Got hurt, did you?  Our little hero, it seems.  Tell me more about how you beat that 'Wendigo in Name' would you?"

The Hag's Pass

Chris is treated to the sight of a massive Gryphon C battling what looks like several gusts of snow-laden wind.  However, dark fire seems to roll off the catbird's claws as it swipes, and Chris sees why when it rolls to expose it's underside to his view.  The entire chest cavity of the monster is exposed, with no detrimental effect.  From this distance, it wasn't possible to see the gryphons eyes to confirm undead nature, but strongly possible.

Gorod Kur

The massive house, its beauty lessened by the structure sunk into the ground ten degrees on one side, loomed before the pair.  "We are here."
The gates to the courtyard, opened, the guards obviously intimidated by the tremors stemming from Luna's every step.  The governor's manner opened as they passed, the house's interior very...sparse, with portions cordoned off with white drapes, and crews of men in construction gear passed through the halls.  "Evidently the governor is refurbishing his home.  Ooh, he'll be so very agitated."  The crews were alarmed by the tremors, but didn't confront either of them as they moved toward the main stairs, where an entourage of guards assembled.
From behind them, a shrill voice called.  "Why are you in my home?"

Kallisburg
The knife in the wall did slow Zarus down, in time to promptly be buffeted by debris for several seconds.  Then the crashes of the gargoyle hitting the ground floor, and the debris joining it ended.
And were promptly replaced by the groaning and tearing as the walls of the tower began to come apart.  The section of wall Zarus had just carved open gave way into the courtyard, giving Gi-Gi plenty of room to circle him and teleport straight up into the air, where Zarus could see the tower totally ruined, and the two joining buildings damaged severely before gravity took hold again.

Aliera spoke up, "Sure we can, but I won't until you calm down for a second.  In the state you're in, you'll snap at the press if they're present already, and damage our PR."  The older succubus scoffed, and handed the ringtail a bottle labled: 'Zen Energy Drink; when you need tranquility, and need it now!'
"Drink it on the way, and let us go."  The entire world seems to twist as the trio appear in the street... to see an entire fourth of the house on fire, with the center of it in shambles, one tower half in the courtyard, the other in the street, and people running around panicking.  All in all, a typical Wednesday.

No breaks, huh? Fine, two can play this game.

Knowing that he would be hard-pressed to dodge in his current state, Jaes took a knee, crossed his palms and pointed them at the incoming tentacle. A knot of energy began to form just an inch above his palm, steadily growing in size. The outer shell was a semi-transparent purple color, containing a roiling mass of turbulent energy, a mish-mash of various shades of red. He kept the mass pointed at the oncoming tentacle and waited, knowing the limits of his range.

As the tentacle crossed that threshold, Jaes released the orb, and it shot forward at the oncoming appendage. It passed through the surface of the tentacle and traveled for another split second before the containing shell broke, and the energy contained within detonated, releasing a powerful explosion within it.

Zanfib glowered indignantly as he unstopped the potion and downed it. You set ONE reporter on fire and..

But it did the trick, seeing how when they arrived and Zanfib saw the state of his home without immediately lashing out at the nearest unfriendly mind was more than enough evidence to vouch for its effectiveness. And when his gaze shot skyward at the slightest warning from his senses, he didn't go blindly ripping off every energy blast he could out of wounded pride, no, he actually stopped and analyzed the situation for a moment. And that's what gave him time to notice the warp-aci. A creature with a simplistic, weak-willed mind..

"Heads up." He said flatly as he focused. "I'm going to bring them to us."

He reached out, tapping the little critter's mind, and immediately sought to tear control of the creature from its master, if just for a moment. Bring him down to the ground. He telepathically commanded to the warp-aci.

Fergus' mood darkens with someone stoking the fire in his eyes. Thoughts dart back and forth followed by confused eyes trying to spy his lost thought instead reaches for more sobering ones, "I didn't like him that much when he came up.  Only the unclean dress in suits that don't fit them. His body shook like the quivering stare of one of the junkies that come around here sometimes. I didn't like him or the way he talked. I was by myself away from the crowd where the monsters from some of your songs would want me to be. I propped myself up on my hammer in case I had to hit him. I can't get a good swing at anything sitting on the ground. When the world turned away I told myself I had to pound him till one of us was bleeding to death. Instincts I guess. I can't let things like this wander around if I can do something about it, you know? You're always at your carts and I'm starting to think it knew where I was."

His eyes dart to and fro looking at Emory's expression and manages a smile, "You were my next stop. I'm supposed to fix things that might hurt the circus, yeah? He might have known someone was alone where I was going next. If things like that can get in I'm going to have to figure out a better weapon I can use from the ground."

He mumbles, "maybe a spring piston? I can be worried later."

edit:grammar

"Damnit, Gigi, get us back to the ground before-" He looks down to spot Zanfib. "Damnit..." Should he let himself be captured? In this condition, he might not have much of a choice. But, in all honesty? It might be a better idea to at least TRY to escape. His Master wasn't too forgiving of failures. So, he tried lashing out at Gigi with his tentacles to keep it away from him, then while falling, he would turn to face the ground, and, would then try to use his wings to try and fly away from the area.

What went through Chris' mind upon seeing the gryphon in better detail is perhaps hard to explain, especially in regards to what he did next. So while the angel/devil on shoulder conversation (and its many derivatives) are rather cliche'd, it will be used here anyway because it is perhaps the best way to explain his thoughts.

"That gryphon is in trouble!!!" cried out a tiny Chris in traveling garb that popped into existence hovering near Chris' left shoulder. The tiny Chris, we will call him Adventure, was waving a sword in the direction of the battle and doing the flying equivalent of hopping up and down. "You need to help it!" It should be noted here that as a story metaphor, Adventure does not actually exist and as such Chris can neither hear, nor see him.

Another tiny Chris, this one dressed in more a casual outfit showed up to the right. "No, that gryphon *C* is in trouble. Not our problem! Why are we even here?!? We should never have left home, this whole trip is crazy!"

This newer Chris, Caution, was well aware that he was only a story metaphor and thus invisible to Chris. He did not try to talk to him or get Chris' attention. To be fair however, even were Caution and Adventure not story metaphors, Chris still wouldn't pay much attention to Caution anyway. He had been pretty much ignored ever since they ran away from home. Even the other story metaphors tended to ignore Caution.

Thus unsurprisingly Adventure completely ignored Caution and opened an imaginary panel in the back of Chris' head to reveal a couple of levers which he pushed forward causing Chris to take off in the direction of the fight. Just in case it was not clear, the levers and panel were also metaphors, although when considering tech levels, it may be better to pretend they are reins.

"What? Adventure, that's a gryphon C and the snow hag! No matter which one wins, the winner will attack us next! Adventure? Adventure, stop!!!!" And in a fit of unusual boldness, Caution seized the reins and pulled Chris to the side.

"No!" exclaimed Adventure, taking the reins back. "It's the right thing to do!" The two continued to fight over the controls causing Chris' flight to veer unsteadily, though overall in the direction of the fight. Viewed from afar, it rather  gave the impression of a butterfly that had gotten drunk and pulled over by a constable for reckless behavior and asked to fly in a straight line.

One last tiny Chris wearing glasses showed up, Pragmatism. "Just to check... do we actually have a plan? Last I checked we had no idea how to fight a gust of wind." This observation actually caused Adventure to falter and in the ensuing pause, Caution tried to seize the reins one last time. However still determined to do the right thing, even if he didn't know how to, Adventure held on tight and the reins snapped leaving both of them staring dumbly at their frayed ends. Chris was left plummeting in the direction he last had, straight at the fight with a look of terror on his face and giving what could be generously interpreted as a battle cry as Pragmatism fell behind, facepalming while Caution and Adventure, also screaming, got dragged along for the ride.

'Dirtying your floors' wouldn't be a proper response. 'Giving you the business' would be even less appropriate. He was already trespassing as far as most of the locals were concerned, so it was time to be professional. If only earthkin had any negotiating experience to draw on whatsoever. But then, where was the fun in having things go right?

Turning slowly, Oyugun's eyes met with the shrill homeowner. There was a softer glow to them as opposed to the usual harsh brightness.

"I'm here on important business, governor. Business that concerns you, this settlement, and everyone inside of it." Something told him this governor probably didn't care much either way. Given the attitudes of the local militia, he was probably itching for an excuse to have him set on fire and thrown out. "We need to discuss morale. Specifically, the morale of my people when exposed to your country's ways and means."

Dervensk
The last of the powder hits the ground by this time, and the cheetaur pats Fergus on the head.   "You did good, ending it that way.  Don't let old Kaz even imply otherwise, okay?"  Emory looks up to the sky and sighs.  "We're probably going to be moving after...this.  Saw some of the boys packing up the smaller carts when I was coming over, don't know where we're headed though."
Gorod Kur
"You assume we grant that your people have morale and are not just things-" The shrill voice was cut off as Luna lightly stamped a foot, causing the entire building to violently shake and dust to come spiraling down from the ceiling.
"Sir," the woman started, "the Capitol has already warned you about supplanting official policy with your personal views."  Not a raised tone beyond a drawl, but the impact crater from her stamp and the display of raw power itself seemed to do the trick, for the little man.
"...what morale and means is in conflict specifically...ambassador?"  The suppressed venom was palpable.
Kallisburg
The little creature started to move, when all things started to slow down for Zanfib.  Objects falling slowed to a painful crawl, people speaking became little more than occasional static blips to his ears, even the sensation of touching the ground and the two women near him was delayed.
"Well well well." An almost mechanical voice came from all directions at once, echoing in the slowed down world.  "I finally got one of you people to contact me, and it's through the warp aci of all things.  Serendipity, I guess." Out of the corner of his eye, Zanfib could see his own shadow seeming to move on its own, pulling off the ground, and standing  as if with substance.

Zanfib found this sudden change to be just a tad on the side of unsettling, to say the least. He kept looking about, trying to make sense of this madness (for their was no other word for it).. and then his shadow began to move.

He locked his eyes on the anomaly, trying to probe it with what powers would work in this oddness.. "Who, or what, are you?" He asked his shadow. Oh if the mental institute could read that line..