(OOC) -->

Gongs ring as a watchman calls out, "Land ho!" Not that this is news. Already, the Intimidator has entered the envelope of the sky island, so that the air is of tolerable pressure and temperature to brave the upper deck. That is where Zoltan gets his first view of Paradys upon returning.

Paradys is not alone. Airships can be seen … some of them moving to intercept the Intimidator, surrounded by clouds of small, winged warriors. Eeee.

Below, the Nordikan countryside rolls slowly by, breaking up into foothills and then mountains to the north and east. Although there is plenty of altitude, not much can be seen of the mountain range, since it is enshrouded in a brooding, dark cloud. Here and there, flares of light can be seen … like fires burning somewhere in the heart of the mountain range that manage to shine through gaps in the vaporous wall surrounding the Forbidden Zone of Bosch.

Zoltan rushes up to the railing, he narrows his eyes at the approaching ships and waits to see if they appear to act agressive or not. He tries to scan around with his keen eyes, looking for a familiar face.

No familiar face presents itself … but a mask … or ten of them. The Magenta and Cobalt Lances are on the adjoining flight deck, saddling up on their birds of war, the huge avians known as rakhtors.

The strange airships seem not to be directly approaching the Intimidator, as it at first seemed. Rather, they are veering off to the side, taking a path that takes them away from Paradys and Bosch. The sky island itself is drifting slowly – but noticeably – toward the swirling clouds above the cursed mountain range.

The airships are nondescript, fairly plain craft flying Gallisian sails, though they don't display the garish colors and decorations that would be associated with the prouder vessels of that land.

Zoltan turns and looks back at the two sets of lancers, "They could have beaten us to boomers. If they gots them on ship… be careful about bringing them down, one mistake and all of Nordika coulds explode." He glances back to Paradys, and then looks to the shps again.

The Champion of Roses nods solemnly to Zoltan, and, with the assistance of a Jupani armorer, climbs up onto the back of her bird. Once all the Lancers are mounted, they take off from the deck, circling the Intimidator, and forming a defensive formation.

The Intimidator continues to approach Paradys. The airship graveyard comes into view. Wisps of smoke rise up from the tangle of wooden masses. No fliers from the island take to the air to greet the approaching war vessel.

The Vartan unfurls his own wings and teeters on the railing, he waits before launching himself… then freezes at the sight of the smoldering graveyard. His eyes dart around, trying to find where the strange metal bird was.

A shiny glint betrays the location of the metal bird. It is amidst much wreckage, but it is open to the air. Even from here, Zoltan's keen eyes can pick out its shape, a winged bullet of a 'bird'. The fractured airship that so long entombed it has been reduced to broken timbers and ashes.

Zoltan looks back to the departing airships. Paradys he can find again if need be… but the other ships are a different matter. With one great leap he throws himself from the deck and joins the lancers in their formation.

There is a loud thunderclap … and one of the Gallisian ships starts shooting forward, its sails full of wind. The other ships are tossed in its wake, bats spilling forth. The Eeee abandon their ships … flying toward the Intimidator!

( This is it… ) As quickly as he can, the hippogryph pulls out his crossbow and notches an arrow into it. He tries to search out the source of the noise.

The noise would appear to originate from somewhere that the fast-moving Eeee vessel was at earlier. Especially since the other ships in its wake are not moving nearly so fast, an air mage must be involved. Given how FAST it's going, perhaps several air mages. But then, it's pretty obvious by now that this isn't some Gallisian expedition to Paradys by now. Especially as the groups converge enough for ballista bolts to … bounce? … off of the Intimidator's envelope.

That is, a few of them glance the hull, bouncing away. Those that hit square on shatter with the impact.

The fast-moving ship makes a break for it, escaping the fray, as more thunder erupts … this time from BEHIND the Lancers. The Vartan's keen eyes pick out several projectiles zipping through the air. Some strike into the smaller airships, smashing into decks and puncturing envelopes. One of the envelopes of the 'Gallisian' vessels bursts into flames.

Zoltan whistles sharply to get the lancers' attention. He points wildly to the escaping ship. "There! We gots to catch up with it!"

The Eeee close in with the Lancers, making what amounts to a suicidal gesture … but they have numbers and agility, and can be in more places at once than a handful of Lancers, no matter how well armored and armed. The Lancers may have caught Zoltan's message, but it will take precious seconds, at the least, before they can break free of the airborne melee.

The Cobalt Lance is armed, as ever, with their bizarre instruments. A staccato *pakapakapaka* can be heard, and several Eeee plummet, squeaking in agony.

The Vartan gulps, then sets his jaw. He knows what he has to do – with one hard crack of his wings he sends himself flying towards the quickly escaping ship.

The ship is moving so fast! But the Vartan's wings carry him as swiftly as possible. Once he manages to reach the wake of the ship … he is suddenly and without warning tossed about wildly! The sky and earth do somersaults.

Roaring, he flails wildly in the air… violet eyes try to scan the deck for an air mage.

More rumbles, screeches and other alarming sounds accompany flashes of light from behind (and occasionally in front of, while he's flipping) the Vartan. The suspended spells of the Intimidator's compliment of battle mages are unleashed upon the Eeee attackers. During one of the somersaults, Zoltan can see the fleeing airship … Yes, there's an air mage there.

Well, not just one air mage. About … maybe six of them? Hard to count with all this buffeting. But then, it's hard to tell how many may be air mages, and which ones might be of some other, supporting sphere.

Steadying himself as much as he can, Zoltan raises his crossbow at one of the figures and fires out a bolt.

It takes some deft flying … but Zoltan manages to maneuver himself into a spot in the wake of the craft where … while the flying isn't easy, being pushed along with the magical wind, he can at least keep rightside-up for a few precious seconds…

The bolt, fired, sails through the air … toward the departing ship … toward the ring of mages … too far away to hear it as it strikes…

… or … that's the way it SHOULD be…

*SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!*

The air explodes around the Vartan, as if the sky were ripped asunder, the shriek filling his ears … and then …

Zoltan is looking up at the sky. He is lying flat on his back, on something smooth and hard. It feels like an airship deck.

He blinks, and then tries to scrabble up to his feet. The Vartan grabs for his sword.

The Vartan's head pounds. A white Khatta Priestess gasps and backs away from Zoltan, stumbling up from where she was kneeling beside him. "Yes," she mews, "I can say with certainty that he's all right."

It's the deck of the Intimidator, and Zoltan is surrounded by a random collection of Guards and crewmembers.

Zoltan looks around, one hand clutching his head while the other still clenching the trembling blade. "The ship… where it go?"

A Jupani Guard officer grumbles, pointing off toward the horizon … at nothing that Zoltan can see even with his keen eyes. "That way. That was the best crossbow shot I've seen ever, thanks to the scope. You got that flappymage right good."

There's a sneeze from the other direction, and then an audible, high-pitched "hmph" from someone else. "Flappymage! Really … In any case, I'd rate it as a seventy-five percent chance that he should have nicely ruined their whole circle and that would have been the end of it. But as it is … it looks like their lead mage went out with a bang. We'll catch up with them … eventual – ah … ah … ACHOO!"

He slumps. "It got away?" But at the sneezing Eeee's words, Zoltan smiles again. "We catch them? Good… I hope we not too late." He hisses as a particularly painful jolt goes coursing through his pounding head.

The chase goes on, into the evening. The Lancers have flown back to the vessel, so that the air mages can do their job, pushing the Intimidator through the atmosphere faster than would otherwise be physically possible – even for the wings of a Rakhtor … or a Vartan. Still, there is no sight of the enemy vessel, and word from air mages off of their "shifts" indicates that they shouldn't expect to see them for at least a few hours yet … and maybe not until the next day, if the Eeee recover well enough.

Far away from Paradys, it's no longer tolerable to remain on the top deck at this altitude. The watch goes on from one of the many viewing decks rimming the equator of the ship's armored envelope.

Zoltan watches quietly, listening to the noises around him as he inspects his crossbow. ( I hope I slowed them down, and I dearly hope the ship wasn't a decoy. And most of all I hope that the Paradysians are alright… )

'Star' stands against the panelled windows, hand up against one of the reinforcing cross-bullions, staring out at the countryside slipping by below. The mountains of Bosch and the fringe of Gallis are far to the north now. The enemy vessel is bound southward, according to the scrying of the mages of Light, though it's bound to cut for the ocean eventually.

"You make it through the first battle alrights?" Zoltan asks the Savanite. Looks like everyone got shook up really good.

Moon-Brow turns back to Zoltan and signs, "What do we do when we find what we're looking for?"

Zoltan puts his weapon away, sighing heavily. "I no sure. If they do gots the boomers, we gots to find some gentle way of taking ship. And once we gets the boomers, I like nothing better than to destroy them… but… but… what Running-River said… "

Moon-Brow's gaze drops to the floor of the chamber.

He holds his arms out, offering a comforting embrace for the Savanite. "This all must be very hard for you. I know too well how it feel to find monsters in your past. I sorry you have to go through all of this."

Moon-Brow's mouth cracks a half-smile. She looks at Zoltan's offers, but shakes her head. "I have enough monsters." She slowly walks away.

The Vartan watches the Savanite depart, he tries to shrug off a feeling that begins to build up in the put of his stomach.

The night passes, and with it, Zoltan gets a sparse rest … never quite knowing when the alarm will be sounded upon sighting the enemy craft. As it is, the sun rises, and Zoltan is awake again before that happens. The Himar woodlands stretch out far below … and somewhere ahead and far below can be seen the Eeee airship. The Intimidator, after all, only travels at sky-island level.

Despite the cold and scant air at this altitude outside the craft, the Lancers and their Rakhtors launch from the vessel, thanks to a bubble of high pressure generated by the much-in-demand Air mages.

The Hippogryph peers down at the ship nervously, grateful for what little rest he could get during the night. He contemplates the direction of the ship in his mind and tries to figure out how far it is from Ashod.

Ashdod is a continent away. If the Intimidator has caught up with the airship in Himar, still on the continent of Ai, there's scant chance the enemies can possibly make the journey across the ocean … unless they can take out the Intimidator.

Zoltan checks to make sure he's fully stocked on weapons, and then moves to follow the lancers.

Descending from the craft, the Lancers and the ship's other airborne warriors are met in mid-air by Eeee defenders!

At first, the Vartan, lacking the armor of the Lancers, joins most of the other airborne fighters by relying on long range attacks – namely, with his crossbow. Again and again, the black Vartan's bolts strike true. However, once the forces close upon each other – and the bolts run low – it's time to get a bit more personal. Fortunately for Zoltan, he has a chitin blade, courtesy of Rephidim Temple. The blade is obsidian black, but the light of the rising sun glints off of it like fire.

Zoltan plows his way through the desperate ranks of Eeee warriors. About him, many of his comrades fall. The Eeee, while more fragile, are still formidable opponents … and the Vartan does not pass through their defenses unscathed. Hopefully he can go on adrenaline before it catches up with him.

And then, the air about the fray erupts in intermittent flashes of light and darkness, and buffeting shields of air that send Babelite and Templar alike flying out of control, blinded or otherwise disoriented. Strangely, Zoltan is relatively unaffected by this.

The deck of the ship is before him. Just a few wingbeats away…

Zoltan, focused on his goal, zeroes in on that deck. He attempts to land.

The Vartan is engaged by a couple of Eeee guards … but he uses his strength, skill, and raw determination to force his way through. His hooves land heavily on the deck … which is littered with bodies. The ritual circles of the mages are scuffed and broken … the mages having abandoned their rituals by choice or attrition.

With an angry roar, Zoltan continues on. He looks for some means of stopping the ship and/or locating its cargo.

An opening torn into the deck presents the most obvious way of getting into the hold. Under the shadow of the still-intact envelope – for none dare try to puncture or ignite it – the hold is enshrouded in shadow.

Whispering a quick prayer to the star, the hippogryph enters the wound in the ship's deck. His sword held at the ready.

*SKREEEEEE!* A bat launches from the darkness about Zoltan, the barbed tail of a skedat-whip swinging at the black Vartan.

Zoltan hacks at the whip with his weapon, attempting to intercept it before it strikes.

*CRACK* *FWIPFWIPFWIPFWIP* The whip wraps around the weapon, ensnaring it.

This prompts a laugh from Zoltan's as-yet-unseen attacker. "Die, sky-islander!" squeaks the Eeee.

Tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, Zoltan wrenches his arm back… attempting to yank the whip out of the bat's hands.

"YAAAAAAAA!" shrieks the bat, as he is whipped through the air. He hits the wall, and slides down, landing roughly amidst some emptied crates.

"So," another voice comes from the darkness in the hold. "This is it, then? Alas, the Sabaoth will not get his prize."

"But never fear. Rephidim is still doomed regardless. You will find nothing worth returning to, when the Plaguebringers are finished!" the bat boasts, then laughs raspily.

"You were saying?" Zoltan hisses to the fallen bat. He spins around and glares at the darkness. "Plaguebringers?"

The bat laughs. "But then again … none of us will make it to Rephidim ANYWAY!" *clack*

Light pierces the darkness of the hold … from below. The floor of the hold has split open, spilling the cargo of the ship, and a few Eeee … as well as Zoltan … and a big black round thing.

Zoltan struggles to regain his flying. He takes one look at the black thing, whispers another prayer to himself… and makes a frantic dash for it. Perhaps he can catch it before it hits the ground.

Away from the bottom of the ship, Zoltan is able to quickly reach the big black object. Its surface is cold and hard against the Vartan's claws. Its diameter is as wide as his arms spread out.

Wings beating furiously… the Vartan attempts to fly back up with his catch. ( I'm insaaaaaane! But there could be people down there. I can't let this thing hit! )

The Vartan's wings beat … but the object is not going up with him. It continues its inexorable plunge. Low-hanging clouds glide by below, revealing the hills and forests that spread across the countryside.

Zoltan squints his eyes shut. ( I tried… I'm just not strong enough though! ) He launches himself back up… hoping beyond hope that he can at least fly high enough to get out of the way of the wave of carnage he expects to see all too soon.

And but seconds later, the bomb not even close to striking the ground, reality rips apart.

Literally.

A shard of darkness sears past the Vartan, leaving blackness in its wake … a blackness dotted by glittering stars and purple gaseous bodies.

Another shard rips across the first, though through this one comes heat like a raging furnace, even though it must be miles away – and the light … the light … cannot be looked into.

Pieces of the world around Zoltan shatter and fly apart, as if his perception of it were but a painting upon glass. With each fragment that flies away, a different reality is revealed. Most of it opens onto the dead void of space, or onto great expanses of fire or luminous gas.

"What's happening?!!" Zoltan screams out into the chaos, as if it would answer him.

One shard, however, reveals a glimpse of a forested countryside … though the sky is down, and the earth up, and the trees are magenta in foliage.

It tears toward the Vartan … straight for him … and through him! Heat and cold, heavy and light, it feels as if he is in two places at once, and they are tearing at him, for he can go neither way without being split in two. And then the shard ricochets away.

At last, the Vartan escapes the maelstrom … his wings still bearing him away, toward the distant Intimidator. Behind him, a mushroom cloud rises into the sky, spreading outward as it reaches higher striations of the atmosphere.

Ouch. That 'shard' really hurt. At least Zoltan is in one piece.

He hugs his arms around his chest, reeling from the sensation. And mustering up as much of his reserve strength as he can, Zoltan tries to fly back up to the Intimidator.

Several agonizing moments later, Zoltan makes it back to the deck of the Intimidator. As it drifts away from the scene of the … explosion … the cloud dissipates. Below, where there were rolling plains, forests and hills … it looks as if someone has taken a cookie cutter to some other world, jammed it in at an odd angle, then shoved the mass down into a matching hole in Sinai's surface … a hole that matches not anywhere near perfectly in elevation, as this "cookie" is rimmed by cliffs formed of soil open to the air.

Zoltan collapses on the deck, still hugging his sides. "Plaguebringers… " he whispers.

Zoltan's return is almost unnoticed. Most of the crew and Guards are just too busy … staring.

Moon-Brow, however, is quick to the Vartan's side.

She has some supplies, and starts cleaning the multiple wounds – nicks and scrapes, and flesh wounds, really – and applying bandages.

But then, she stops and stares at his chest, blinking, half-frozen while holding a fresh bandage she was about to apply. The Vartan's body aches all over … but he's been through worse, at least. Or has he?

The Vartan looks quizically at Moon-Brow's expression, then his eyes fall upon his chest.

Sunlight glints across a thin band that runs across Zoltan's chest, from his lower left hip, disappearing at his waist … and up across to his right shoulder. Every bristle and feather along the path looks as if it has been plucked out and replaced by a copy made of … crystal …

With a shaking hand, he reaches out and runs a finger across the strange band. "W-what?"

By Zoltan's touch, nothing feels different at all. If he were blind, he wouldn't have noticed a change in the least. But each feather, seemingly made of something fragile and rigid and translucent, is just as flexible as any of Zoltan's other feathers.

The Vartan just stares at the strange stripe he's aquired. He pulls out a small feather from the band and scrutinizes it between his fingers. "Something hit me… but… " he can't even finish his sentance.

Moon-Brow just … nods.

"Maybe I got burned, or something." Zoltan pulls himself to his feet, still rubbing the stripe as though he could simply smear it away.

The stripes does not wipe away. As Zoltan stands, heavy bootsteps announce the arrival of an Inquisitor. Brother Azrael. "It is good to see that you are alive. I was most concerned that you were lost." His cowled face turns toward the changed landscape.

Momentarialy forgetting his new markings, the Vartan turns around to greet the Inquisitor. "It not over. An Eee on ship said that they using somethings called plaguebringers on Rephidim next. I not know what those is."

"Plaguebringers," Azrael repeats, turning back toward Zoltan. "The name tells the truth. With the Plaguebringers – should they still be alive – the Sabaoth would pour out disease, poison and acid upon his enemies."

Zoltan glances down at the remnants of Himar as well, looking to see how much remains. "What ARE plaguebringers?" he asks, looking at the ground below.

"Monsters. Ancient monsters borne upon the winds, mindlessly obeying the will of the Sabaoth and his minions, bearing foulness in their innards, to spit forth upon those unfortunate enough to be in their way," Azrael intones. "I intended to see if we could overtake Paradys before it enters Bosch, should there be any more of those devices. But if the Plaguebringers are unleashed, we must change course. We must return to Rephidim." With that, the Arch-Inquisitor strides away, to give new instructions to the navigators.

Zoltan goes back to contemplating the translucent stripe slashed across his chest. "How you fight such things?" he wonders aloud.

"We fight them with everything we have," the Inquisitor replies in parting.

The Vartan's hooves drag across the deck as he moves to the railing to look down at Himar. ( Part of me wants to go back to Paradys to make sure everyone there is alright, or to make sure there's no more of those horrible things, but if such monsters are on their way to Rephidim… they must be stopped. My family is there, and I took this trip to protect them. )