A carriage rattles along the cobblestones, the cab insulated from the bumps by its heavy spring suspension. Inside the swaying compartment, the Landsknecht Gergesene sits beside the Palace Guard Shem. Opposite those two ride Brother Salvatori, and Jael, bastard son of the kaizer and a junior at the School of Practical Mechanisms. Outside, the driver whips the Drokars, speeding his passengers back to the guard barracks.

Brother Salvatori does his best to hide any worried expressions he might make at this whole situation, focusing on comforting the Cervani boy along the way.

Shem just stares at his hooves, unwilling to meet the eyes of the people he rides with, and worried about his fate.

Jael continues to cling white knuckled to Salvatori's feathers. He's quiet for the most part, but looks as though he may burst into tears at the slightest noise.

Storefronts fly by outside the windows. Dusk is growing, and the Wickers are starting to light the street lamps. Blitzheim swiftly grows dark once the sun is down, the ever-present cloud cover, and often a dense fog, makes the oil lanterns a necessity.

Gergesene kkts, then turns to the Cervani guard. "Do not fret so," he advises. "We are all followers of the Star, seeking to overturn the shadows and let its purifying light illuminate all. You have done well to stand against orders that seem overly mysterious. Now we ride," he kaws, lifting his wings as if in a gesture of evocation. "To shed that light upon the source of these orders. Have strength. We shall win through this together."

Brother Salvatori smiles at Gergesene's words of hope, and turns to look at the Cervani boy again, hoping the words may have had a similar affect on the child caught in the middle of all this.

The Cervani child seems numb to the knight's words. He stares blankly at the insignia pendant around Salvatori's neck.

Shem nods, sitting taller with Gergesene's words. "Thank you sir." He replies. The carriage also responds to the Landsknecht's speech, it's rattling pace slowing down. There is a knock on the roof, the driver rapping his whip. "Seems to be a regular emergency ahead sirs, but it's clearing up. We should be on our way in a moment."

Brother Salvatori's smile fades, and he whispers a prayer as he holds the child closer, ruffling his headfur with one wing-claw.

Gergesene kaws. "It is a pity that one so young should be involved in these troubles… An emergency? What has occurred, driver?"

Gergesene looks to see if he can peek out of a window.

Brother Salvatori says, "Just a regular emergency, I'm sure."

Gergesene says severely, "Brother Salvatori, I was not aware that the state of Chronotopia had degraded such that emergencies might be considered as regular as the rise of the sun. If there is hurt, let us strive to minister to he who is ailing." He cranes his head for a better view.

"Looks like a boiler explosion sir," comes the reply from above. Glancing outside Gergesene can see this is true. A Pumper wagon sits blocking the road, and the rubble has been cleared. No one seems to be hurt, and the crew are closing up the wagon

Jael seems to relax a bit. Any delay in this journey is a comfort to him.

Gergesene reports this dutifully to the others. "A mechanical accident. I hope that no one was injured."

The carriage pulls up behind the Pumper truck, and the driver waits for the obstruction to clear. The rattling of a second carriage can be heard from the rear, also slowing to a stop.

Gergesene looks over to Salvatori. "While we are stopped – hm, do you think that we should help, if there are any wounded? I cannot see any, but that does not mean that there are none."

Gergesene grins wryly. "Also, my ears are not so good as those of the outlandish Jupani."

Salvatori looks to the young Cervani, then to Gergesene. "If you wish, if you will look after the boy, I will look to see if there are any wounded who need tending."

Gergesene hrms, and then nods. "But you must call at once if there is trouble, Brother."

The delay continues, outside voices are heard, "Come down from there!" "What? This is a Palace Carr… Alright! Don't shoot, I'm coming down." The cab sways as the driver climbs down the side.

Gergesene blinks at the sudden altercation.

Salvatori listens. "I think we have found trouble already, good Landsknecht."

The Cervani child screws his eyes shut and clings to Salvatori as if his life depended on it.

Gergesene looks over to Shem. "My friend, we are sworn to our orders and so, as I have vowed that the child be kept safe and your leader has ordered that Jael shall be brought back, let us go together, on foot. If one of us should divert those outside, the others can then escape quietly."

The carriage has no windows on the front or back, just small ones to the side. Visibility is limited, and the passengers cannot see who, or what is behind the vehicle.

Salvatori caws, "Good Landsknecht, I am not strong enough to carry the boy if flight is needed. Are you able to carry him? If so, perhaps I would be better to make a distraction."

Shem nods to Gergesene, rising for the door, "I'll go first sir, you are not as capable on the ground as I am." He carefully draws his sword in the confines of the cab.

Gergesene nods with complete certainty to Salvatori. "Of course I can, Brother. But – you are not as capable as I am if there is trouble of the military kind." He frowns, trying to think of a good arrangement.

The Cervani guard rises beside one of the two carriage doors, the one on the side turned the most to the rear. "I await your instructions, Landsknecht Gergesene." He has just enough room to stand in the cab with his headrack, but not enough to fight.

Gergesene thinks. What would his mentor do? When in doubt, keep it simple. "You shall strike them from the ground," he decides. "I, from the air. If they have things that can shoot, whether crossbows or guns, they may be able to strike Jael if he is carried aloft, and so, we must deal with whomever has the weapon. Brother Salvatori, find someplace safe – and hide with Jael until we return."

Salvatori says, "Capability is not an issue. The child's life is at stake. I needn't be competent to be a distr – *KAW!* Very well. I will try my best."

Gergesene nods. "Kick open yon door," he bids Shem. "And we shall burst forth like the righteous wrath of the Grand Machine."

Jael opens his eyes as the knight speaks his name. "What's happening?" he blurts out.

"Do not leave the carriage!" A voice orders from outside, as shapes move in the shadows near the storefronts, "Send out just the boy."

Shem looks at Gergesene, his hoof ready, and waiting for the nod to attack.

Gergesene loosens the hilts on his wing-sabers. They aren't safe to draw in these close quarters, but once he is out, he can draw them in a heartbeat. "Now," he says.

Brother Salvatori hastily looks about for any hope of an avenue for escape. He whispers to the boy, "We must flee! I am not strong enough to carry you. Once there is an opening, we must run to some sort of cover. Can you handle that? Be strong, boy, like your father before you!"

The Cervani's hand tightens on his swordgrip, and his hoof lashes out beside the latch. As the door slams open against the side of the cab, Shem's hooves spark against the cobbles, and he charges.

Jael nods as tears squeeze from his eyes. "I… I'll t-try."

After the Cervani guard bursts Gergesene, a Korv knight in the abbreviated chitin armor that allows him maneuverability while still protecting him; he races forward and leaps to the air as quickly as he can, drawing his wing-saber in that practiced launch. "For the Landsknechts," he shouts. "Tremble, you who threaten a helpless boy!"

"Wha… Fire!" Comes the surprised order in the darkness."

There is the clunk of two crossbows firing outside. Shem, first in view and the larger target is hit as he rushes forward. His light ceremonial armour doesn't protect him from the heavy bolts that hit him in thigh and shoulder. The Cervani stumbles, sprawling, his sword spinning away into the darkness as he collapses with a grunt.

A third shot follows the first two as Gergesene swoops out over Shem. Aimed for a ground opponent, it misses, flicking through Korv's wingfeathers, and bursting through the side of the carriage.

Visible through the now open door are three figures in dark dress, with the Landsknecht swooping towards them. Barely visible through the still closed one are another three figures. None of them have the distinctive headracks of Cervani, and their features are obscured by dark hoods. The second group also hold crossbows, covering the unopened door. The buildings in this section of Blitzheim are close together, but Salvatori remembers passing some alleyways, and the lights of a few opens stores still shine onto the street.

Gergesene squawks in anger at the close miss! He cries out, "Star's holy light fall upon you, foul assassin!" and, gaining enough attitude for a strike, swoops down at the one who was giving the orders. His sabers, drawn, now form the razor's edge of his wings, gleaming metallic. Surely, he thinks to himself. The others will scatter like Creens when this one falls.

Salvatori squawks to the child, "We are running to the alleys. Promise me, if I fall, you will not stop for me. You must keep running. Here … " He hastily scratches a sigil and some words on the back of a wooden trinket with some religious significance, bearing the sign of the Star. "Seek out the Monks of the Celestial Order. Give one of them this, and ask for sanctuary. Do not forget anything I have told you, child."

Jael nods and glances nervously out the window.

"Ah! I'm under attack! Shoot him down!" The head figure orders as Gergesene rises, and starts his swoop down on him. Across the street, there is the twang of two more crossbows firing. Their bolts flying by the Landsknecht in the darkness.

Salvatori, not the combat-minded sort, does his best to gauge an opening, as the brave Landsknecht keeps the enemies firing at him. "Now, child, RUN!" He bursts out before the Cervani, pulling him along, hoping to shield the child for as long as he can.

The child half runs, half falls after the Monk. His hooves send off sparks on the cobblestone street.

"What? Stop!" "Aim high you'll hit the boy otherwise!" There is the third klunk of the crossbow.

The crow streaks down like a hammer from the skies, falling upon the rusty cogs that must be broken loose. A crack sounds as one of his sabers slashes forward at the leader, met by an upraised crossbow that blocks the blow… And then as Gergesene's full weight lands upon the leader, he slashes with the other wing…

Light glints as the Korv knight's other wing saber slashes across the leader's lower torso and leg; Gergesene launches himself bodily into the sky, leaving him reeling. "KAW!"

Brother Salvatori hasn't time to listen. He dashes on, urging the boy toward the alley – and some hope of escape, he prays.

Salvatori feels the hard slap on his back as the bolt drives home into his shoulder blade, through the wingmuscle. He stumbles from the pain.

Jael stumbles again as Salvatori is shot. He looks up at the monk.

Brother Salvatori caws loudly, his wings fluttering as he collapses to the ground. "RUN!" he squawks before his beak slams into the pavement.

Gergesene turns in the air, hearing Salvatori's cry as he was about to launch himself at another assassin. Oh, foolish brother to have come out the side that was not distracted! But it is too late now to complain; instead he calls out, "Run! Run lest death fall upon you from the skies," and tries to swoop across and into range of the assassins on the other side.

The leader collapses as Gergesene's blades slice through his side. Yowling he orders, "Get him!… arrgg… Don't let him escape." The two hooded figures drawing their blades, rushing to follow and meeting two of the remaining three coming around the carriage. The last ambusher, the one who shot Salvatori, bolts after Jael, running past the monk.

The Cervani child runs madly, but his progress is hampered by his constant tripping and stumbling.

Gergesene peers down at the pursuers… Fools, he thinks to himself. Crossbows would have suited them far better. He locates one who's going after Jael, and then dives into another horribly high-speed slash-attack. Down that one first and then deal with the others.

Gergesene kaws, "Turn and meet your death, dishonored assassin!"

The pursuing assassin turns in the alley as the Landesknecht swoops down on him, his blade slashing high in the path of the Korv.

Metal clangs as the swords meet! Gergesene follows up with a slash… Perhaps too eagerly, for sparks fly from the gouge that his other wingsaber's tip makes in the wall, and succeeds only in cutting cloth and gashing the assassin's arm. He holds on tight, a brief feathery ball soaring through the air on the rebound from that strike, then exploding out into a winged shape to recover quickly.

Gergesene beats the air, trying to regain his wits. Is the assassin down? Where are the others, Salvatori, Jael, Shem? He catches a ledge and prepares to dive down again.

Out on the street, doors and windows are opening as concerned citizens look to see what the commotion is. One of the hooded figures is helping their leader to the carriage. "Grab the wounded ones, we have to get out of here." The stumbling panther growls.

Hands grab Salvatori, and roughly bear him to the carriage.

Beneath Gergesene, the final assassin rises from where the Korv's strike knocked him. He waves his blade overhead, searching for the Landsknecht against the night sky. Jael is no where to be seen; there are many spots a small boy could hide in.

The wounded monk has no strength to offer any fight, and may not even be aware of his surroundings, for all the impression he gives.

Gergesene focuses. A carriage. A fallen Korv – Salvatori – and assassins bearing him away. And one more assassin. But where is Jael? He looks for answers in the shadows and finds none. There is only the vow that he gave. "SURRENDER!" he yells, launching himself after the lone assassin. "Throw down your weapons and you will live!"

Shem, Salvatori and the wounded panther are placed in the carriage, which turns in the confines of the street. "Out of the way, citizens." One of the hooded men orders. Gergesene from his vantage point can't see if this is obeyed. He catches a hint of Jael, peeking out from behind some boxes at the far end of the alley. Below, the assassin keeps searching the sky, and replies to the knight, "No! I cannot, it is a matter of security!"

"Security?" calls the Korv knight, spiraling around. "What security is it that rousts a driver from a Palace's carriage and shoots down brothers of the Star with crossbows? You are an assassin!" He abandons words and then folds his wings for a death-dive, sabers ready for metal-flashing circle strikes.

The assassin spies a glint off the Korv's blades, and turns raising his own in a defensive block as he crouches low to the ground in the face of the dive.

Clang! The sabers flash forward as the Korv's wings almost seem to blacken out the assassin within their shadows, and then blood appears upon the enemy's weapon arm… And on the other arm and shoulder, a deep cut that seems to shine as the blade rips through. Gergesene's full weight comes down on the assassin a split second later, pushing him down to the ground. His feet pin the assassin. "Drop your blade," he hisses – with the other assassins leaving, this one is alone.

The assassin is slammed against the ground, his hood falling open as his shoulders crash against the cobbles. The panther wears the helmet of a private guard, the symbol unrecognizable in the darkness. He obeys Gergesene's order, his weapon dropping from his hand as the Khattha passes out.

Gergesene hmfs. "They don't make them like they used to," he grumps, then looks up to see if the carriage has gone already – and with it, the only other person he knows of privy to Jael's heritage that he can trust.

Out in the street the carriage wheels can be heard fading into the distance.

Gergesene frets. Salvatori or Jael? The little Cervani is hiding somewhere, and if he leaves, then less savory dwellers of these streets might steal him away. He makes the decision regretfully, as he stands and wipes off his blades on the assassin's cloak hem. "Jael," he calls. "An' you trust me, come here. We must get you somewhere safe."

A pair of nubby antlers pokes out from behind a set of crates. "Is it alright to come out now?"

The alley is dark, but has only Jael, Gergesene, and the wounded Kattha in its shadows.

Gergesene kaws, "Yes. I shall protect you with my very life, child."

Gergesene sheathes his blades, then peers down at the would-be assassin's helmet. Private guards now, is it? There may be more clues on this Kattha. And information… seems to be the prize in this game.

Jael steps out shakily. "The monk… is he dead? I saw him fall… "

Gergesene exhales. "I pray he is not, and that he still has a part to play in the Grand Machine, Jael. The Star shine on me, I had to choose – and I believe that he would have wanted me to see to your safety."

The little Cervani stands there and wrings his hands, more tears begin to flow from his eyes and soak into his cheekfur.

What secrets the Khattha knows will be lost with the blood that flows out of his wounds. The helmet reveals a noble's insignia, one that Gergesene recognizes easily.

Gergesene wishes that he knew how a true knight would restore Jael's spirit with just a few well-chosen words… Those words escape his mind as he kaws. "I wish that we had time, Jael, moreso, that we needed not inflict such horrors upon your tender eyes. But we must bind up this miscreant's wounds and tie him securely, so that he will not escape. And then we must find someplace to nest. Ah. Hide. Give me a hand then, an' you believe in me, and we shall have this Kattha truly netted."

Gergesene gets to business. The assassin's cloak will serve for binding.

Jael doesn't move for a few moments – he seems a bit stunned by all the happenings. But slowly he walks up to join the knight and clumsily tries to help him.

Gergesene beak-smiles, the edges of his beak curving up, and pats Jael's back. "Good lad."

The Khattha is unresisting to Gergesene's efforts, and soon, with the help of Jael, his wounds, and his hands are bound tightly in the remnants of his cloak.

Gergesene thinks to himself. A guard of Baron Phelan's. But he spoke for the Kaizer… Of course. They all did. Who would have spoken against him in that hall?

Gergesene frowns, but says nothing as he stands to look up. "Have you ever been in these quarters, friend Jael?"

Out on the street the citizens go back to their business, except for a few that venture into the alley. Ahead of them is the driver, who calls out, "Sir? Are you there?"

Gergesene brightens. Transportation. "Aye," he calls. "We are here, and moreover, we have captured – though I fear, not without losses – one of the miscreants who assaulted you. Is the carriage intact?"

"Yes," the driver shouts back, feeling his way down into the alley as his eyes adjust. "They forgot about it, and me, as soon as you attacked. I'm sorry I didn't join in sir… I'm not really a good fighter. Do you need some help?"

Gergesene nods. "There is one place they will not go without qualms," he says with a sudden grin. "Help me take the Katthan on board, and then Jael, you and I will go to the Landsknechts!"

"We should leave quickly sir, the Pumper cart was a part of it. They may be coming back." The driver arrives, helping to lift the unconscious panther and carry him back to the carriage.

Gergesene gives the driver a hand – well, a wing-hand, at any rate. He relieves the Khattha of a knife. "Jael, take this. You're a strong and bold young lad, if something happens, you'll have a little surprise they won't expect. All right?"

Jael follows quietly behind. He blinks up and nervously takes the knife, holding it as though it might suddenly lash out and bite him on its own.

"Where to now sir?" The driver asks, ready to mount his seat after the guard has been put aboard the carriage.

Gergesene kaws, "The Keep! And we must make haste – but they won't think to look for us there, I daresay!"

"I will sir, hold on tightly, I'll be pushing the Drokars." The driver takes his seat and cracks his whip over the backs of the beasts. The carriage lurches into a breakneck pace, flying along the streets towards the Landsknecht Keep of Blitzheim.