The Merryweather has docked at one of the ports at Gutenburg, off-loading shipments of fine zolk, silks and xocholatl, and then taking on Chronotopian curiosities. X and Little Reed have to remain on board the ship, hidden away, as slavery is illegal in Chronotopia, and in order to dock here, Captain Merryweather has had to claim that there isn't so much as a single Savanite on board the ship. If X were found, it's not quite clear what the authorities would do about it, but it would probably translate into either an abbreviated stay … or an unpleasantly prolonged one.

As usual with the swapping of cargoes and the bargaining of Captain Merryweather with the locals, this has given Willow some free time to check the surroundings. Morning-Mist has proven to be a capable seamstress, and the Skreek's wardrobe is a fair deal improved since picking up some replacement clothing and materials in Abu Dhabi.

The weather is cool and crisp, even though it's the tail end of summertime in the northern hemisphere, as this is much further north than the Himaat, and up in the mountains to boot. Wisps of clouds are visible over the mountain ridge walling in the city on either side, and Willow has been warned that this could switch to drizzle with very little warning, or worse … and this is supposed to be good weather by Nordikan standards!

Jupanis don't seem to be regarded highly here, and those amongst the crew have chosen to stay in the dock area. Captain Merryweather has even taken to having his first mate, Barnacle, handle most of the negotiations. The local population is broken into families of black Khattas, deer-like Cervani, crow-like Korvs, and a fair number of humans.

Late morning finds Willow on a broad and winding cobblestone street near the docks, the cliff side tiered with a disorganized mix of shops and houses and the occasional inn. Traffic here congests easily, what with all the beast-drawn wagons, steam-powered contraptions and pedestrians vying for the same space, especially since the roads all too often narrow as they twist around some narrow precipice or cut through a tunnel in the rock. However, somehow the people keep moving along, going about their daily business, like clockwork – only fitting, considering how just about any house or shop worth looking at has a clock of some sort affixed prominently on its face … and they all keep the same time.

Down the way, built on one end of a bridge that spans the central canyon, and at the hub of several sloping roads, is a brick building built into the face of the cliffs. Several black Khattas in red long-coats and helmets are busily washing and polishing a red wagon with a big wooden tank on the back. A Korv – with a similarly red helmet – sits perched in a tower at the top of the building, scanning the city with a spyscope.

Nearby, an old human woman sits in a rocking chair on the front porch of what might be mistaken for just a nice old house … except that a big wooden sign dangling from the front has been crafted to resemble an open book, inscribed with big letters in a broadly-brushed script. Through the front windows, the main room of the lower level of the house can be seen to have many shelves with books, most of them looking to be quite old and worn.

A few buildings down, a gray-feathered Korv can be seen working on some sort of a winged contraption on top of the roof, cawing at a much younger, ink-black Korv who seems to look faintly put upon as he rummages through boxes of tools at the base of the building, and then flies up to bring a large wooden wrench back to the elder.

A human in a black uniform patrols the street, accompanied by a bearded old Cervani who wears an ill-fitting suit of armor. As the twosome pass the houses and stores, the locals stop and wave, calling out greetings. The old Cervani adopts a stately manner as he responds, while the human just quietly nods. By the names called out, one of them is "Commissar Brueggel", and the other is "Sir Eberhardt". The only one who doesn't reply is a Korv with a floppy hat obscuring most of his or her eyes and having curious chitin bangles about the wing-claws, who scuttles out of the way of the patrol and skulks along, shouldering a pack that must be too heavy to fly with.

Today Willow has chosen to go solo, without the accompaniment of her slaves and without her Cervani friend. She's been somewhat somber ever since leaving the Himaat and the bleary weather fits well with her mood. Still, she's never been the type to sit and sulk, and there's a whole new city waiting to be explored. Something has to be said about a city that treats Jupani like Skreeks. The bookstore catches her eye, but she's slightly leery about books at the moment… plus (despite past experiences) the bookstore probably will be there should she return later. The skulking Korv attracts her eye even more, so she sets herself up to follow quietly behind to see what he's up to.

Willow manages to avoid drawing any special attention to herself as she goes down the street, even despite her conspicuous rathood. Or, at least, if anyone's paying attention, they're not being overt about it. It's a fair bet, at the very least, that the unsociable Korv that has caught Willow's eye hasn't managed to spot the Skreek in turn.

As soon as the two patrollers head past, on their way to the docks, the Korv stops at a shop that has a sign hanging in the door that is written in the language of this land, but also has a translation below it that says prominently, "CLOSED".

The crow peers in the window, looking quite interested in the dishware on display … but as soon as the patrollers are out of sight, the crow looks back toward the docks, and changes direction, headed back that way. This, however, also means that the Korv is now headed in Willow's direction as well.

(Scrud,) the rat curses mentally. Still, she has the advantage of being unburdened and hopefully that means she's a bit swifter. She reverses her course and looks for something to duck behind and hide until the Korv has passed by.

Due to the structure of the street, there are about half as many things to hide behind, since one side of the street drops into a ravine … and even though it might be possible to fling oneself into space to avoid detection, that, of course, would be ill advised under most circumstances.

However, it is by no means an empty street, and it helps that the great majority of the citizens here are of a size greater than Willow. (The Korvs aren't included in this … but things created for their consideration are often of higher elevation anyway.)

There are no alleys, per se, as many of the buildings are dug partially into the rock, and space is a premium. Still, there are steps to duck behind, the occasional cart, a bright red wagon being washed, and – if all else fails – the random store to duck into.

Fortunately, that big floppy hat that hides so much of the Korv's face also restricts vision.

Seizing on this, Willow picks the closest open shop door and ducks into it. Her ears prick up as she tries to focus in on the jangling trinkets the crow wears, while at the same time trying to look immensely interested in… whatever kind of stuff her hiding place sells.

The lucky store happens to be a shop that specializes in timepieces. Willow's ears tell her this before her eyes do, since she's still keeping watch on the street outside. So far, it appears that her evasion has succeeded, for the Korv waddles down the street, bangles jangling cacophonously … and, really, in a way that seems familiar. Willow is hit with an intense feeling of deja vu … and the suspicion that this Korv is of the she-bird variety.

The rat shudders, but feels all the more resolved to follow the crow. She shrugs at the shopkeeper with an "I didn't find what I was looking for" expression and slips out again to continue following the package-bearing Korv. ( I wonder if she ever was in my tent in Rephidim? Maybe that's where I know her from. )

The human shopkeeper looks puzzled for a moment, then just shrugs in return and waves, saying something in the local dialect that sounds like it's probably just a friendly farewell or the equivalent to "come again soon!" As the rat heads out to the street, it looks like it isn't going to be all that difficult to track the Korv the rest of the way, unless it ditches that hat and looks about a bit more often. As for placing familiarity … no … it's not from Rephidim. Earlier than that, definitely.

Willow scratches her head, frowning somewhat. Well, perhaps someone will call the bird's name out – and if she IS hiding she'll probably not ditch that hat just yet unless she wants folks to get a good look at her face. Continuing to look as unobtrusive as possible and trying her hardest to stay out of the crow's line of sight, the rat continues to follow.

The Korv continues waddling its way back to the docks, but it pauses at the sounds of voices up ahead – The human and the Cervani warrior have paused, exchanging shouts (they sound friendly enough) with the old gray Korv tinker up on the rooftop. The bangle-wearing crow suddenly seems to take an interest in the red wagon that the black Khattas are polishing.

Flattening her ears at a conversation she doesn't understand, the rat simply hunches down and waits for her quarry to move again.

Eventually, the two patrollers move on … and, a couple of seconds later, so does the Korv. The human and Cervani take a side street that angles off the main one, taking a steep incline up the hill to another tier of the city. The Korv, however, heads straight on toward the docks. There's a moment when Willow is almost spotted, but the rat is deft enough to duck behind a wagon in time as soon as she notices the crow looking about suspiciously. At last, the crow heads all the way back to the docks, and up to a mid-size airship that seems fairly nondescript. It flies with worn and patched Gallisian sails, but no heraldry on its envelope.

The Korv waddles up to a gruff-looking tiger Khatta standing guard at the gangplank, and digs around in a pocket, at last pulling out a coin and showing it to the guard. It's a shekel, with a blood red tint. In actuality, the Skreek barely gets a glimpse of it … but memory is enough to fill in the gaps.

Willow squints at the ship, but isn't quite prepared to march up the gangplank and announce her presence – especially after the coin catches her eye. She swallows and glances around, trying to spot a place around the ship to hide and just observe for now.

The docks sport a number of crates waiting to be loaded or opened, as well as quite a few empty ones that have been rudely abandoned there until someone thinks to get rid of them to free up the space. Add that to the general traffic, and there are plenty of places for a resourceful and stealthy Skreek to hide.

The rat eyes out a spot that she hopes will give her a view of traffic on and off the ship as well as hopefully allowing her to catch a few snips of conversation. She settles into an old crate, peeks out through a few broken slats and waits to see what happens. Her nose quivers in the air, hoping to catch a scent that might jog her memory.

The intermingled scents of the airships and their cargoes – exotic and mundane – make it difficult to make much use of a keen nose to tell anything in particular about this airship itself. The noise of activity and traffic (along with the occasional distant explosions and alarms from elsewhere in the city) limit what comes to the Skreek's ears. However, her vantage-point offers her a good view of the ship, with a very low likelihood that she will be discovered unless someone comes by before she has a chance to sneak out. Presently, nobody seems to be interested in her box.

( If someone finds me, I'll just claim to be trying to skip out of box duty on my ship. They'll buy that. ) The rat hunches down and watches. Her icy eyes are locked on the deck of the ship and the gangplank.

The tiger Khatta easily lifts the packet that the Korv was carrying, and hands it off to a Rhian to haul up to the ship's deck.

Willow's eyes narrow slightly at the package as she tries to guess its contents.

As the cloth of the package shifts, it looks like the contents are smaller bundles of something not entirely brick-shaped, but soft at the edges. Given the context, the most likely scenario would be that the package contains some smaller packets of some sort of rare "spice" or other powder of high value and low legality.

Up on the deck, a tall and broad-shouldered Skreek – distinctive looking enough for those features alone, but also advanced in years – comes to the edge of the ship, and chitters orders at the Rhian. There's no mistaking that Skreek. It's Captain Weatherwax, in the whiskers.

( Maybe Weatherwax has opted to dope up his babies instead of playing daddy to them to get what he wants from them. ) Foxfire hunches down in her box, trying to ignore the sudden urge to stand at attention or cower in fear at the sight of her former captain. What angers her more is that he's still quite alive.

As the Rhian carries the package up on the deck, an Eeee subordinate – a young one, just barely a teen – rushes up, holding a lit lantern in one hand. He seems to have something important to say to the captain … but just then, the Rhian staggers back as if struck an unseen blow, and the captain can be seen to gesticulate and move his mouth as if shouting frantically, and shoves the bat backward, snatching his lantern away and simply flinging it over the deck of the ship. It smashes against a rocky precipice, where the oil burns for a bit, but soon gutters out.

Willow gnashes her teeth, but then something sinks in. She's not a pirate. Therefore, she could potentially run to the local officials and tattle on their little spice supply. A grin plays across her lips as she continues to watch the deck of the ship a few moments longer to catch any signs that might indicate that the ship is leaving in moments or might remain for long enough for her to fetch someone. Her smile fades as she realizes that the local officials might not be able to even understand her…

Sure enough, it looks like Captain Weatherwax is all set to break away at a moment's notice … though he doesn't have all of his crew congregated above-decks, so it doesn't look like they're all standing on call to make a hasty escape. Quite probably, this packet – small as it is – comprises all of his business in Chronotopia. Or, at least, this part of it.

Figuring that the local cops might at least have a better chance at pinning down the ship than one single rat with a few chitin knives in her pocket, Willow slips from her hiding place and sneaks out of the docks as swiftly as she can and tries to track down that official-looking person that the Korv had been avoiding. ( At least they're not religious fanatics this time… and maybe if the cops swarm all over this ship, they might not notice my two spotties. )

No sooner does the Skreek go looking for the local authorities, than she turns a corner and bumps right into the chest of a tall, bearded human with piercing dark eyes, and a cap on his head that bears an emblem of the five-cogged star-gear of Chronotopia. Next to him is the aged Cervani knight-type that was accompanying him down the street. Both of them exclaim in alarm at the sudden appearance of the rat, then look down at her.

"Um… Hi there. Either of you speak Standard?" Willow chews on her lip nervously.

The human nods. "Yes. I am Commissar Brueggel…

"And this is Sir Eberhardt," he continues, gesturing to the Cervani beside him, "of the Gutenburg Watch. How may I assist you?" His accent is undeniably Chronotopian, but his Rephidim Standard is strong enough that it doesn't need too much trouble to decipher.

The rat steps back into the shadows a bit, remembering how tattle-tale Skreeks usually end up in the old bedtime stories. "I'm just passing through on my own ship… but you seem to be someone who's part of the local guard. I… er… " She swallows and lowers her voice to a whisper. "There's a pirate ship in your docks – The Bloody Shekel. And they've got contraband in their stores. Probably dreamweed or something unpleasant like that. They also look ready to bail, although if you nail them now you might catch a few members of the crew on the ground."

"If you make any kind of noise, though, they'll jump and run. They're half expecting it right now, I'd say," Willow adds.

"Hmm," responds the human. "And you seem to be in an awful hurry to get away from them, right? Well, perhaps you'd do the honor of accompanying us to investigate this … Bloody Shekel. You could help us make sure we're looking at the right ship, before we make a dreadful mistake." He may not be the same species as the Skreek, but the dubious tone in his voice is there. Still … it's not like he's putting a restraining hand on the rat. "What makes you say that they have contraband?"

"If I come with you, they'll kill me. The moment they catch me alone, they'll cut my throat for squealing, or hunt me down. Unless you can disguise me somehow or promise to make sure they don't follow me, I'll just step out right here and now and forget any more thoughts about keeping your docks contraband-free. I don't turn in pirates because I want a hole in my throat for it later. I can just ask them kindly to do it instead." Foxfire glances over her shoulder. "I know the moves of a troublemaker, and this one had it all over them. A Korv lady from the ship was carrying a heavy package that she made a great effort to hide from you. In fact, you made her awfully nervous."

The human's eyes narrow. "That Korv, eh? All right … Could you kindly, at least, point us out to which ship happens to be this Bloody Shekel? If you insist on a disguise… " He shrugs off his coat. "This should make you look ludicrous, but cover you sufficiently."

Willow struggles to get the coat on and then unties the leather thong holding her hair back behind her head, instead opting to let it fall across her face and hide her features somewhat. "They have a guard on the deck. If you try to board, he'll probably get rough."

The human nods, then bites out some words in the harsh-sounding local language to his comrade. The elder Cervani nods, salutes, and marches off, back in the direction that Willow had originally been walking earlier.

The human then turns back to Willow. "I just want a look. I won't be paying my respects just yet."

The rat considers this, "Hopefully seeing you on the docks won't make them suspicious enough to bail. All right then, follow me." And with that the rat scuttles back in the direction she came from.

The human smirks as he follows. "If so, then they would have bailed soon enough regardless, since the docks were along my walk." He walks along at a leisurely pace, like he's just enjoying the weather. (Every drizzle-y bit of it.)

Willow shuffles ahead of the human until the ship is nearby and then gets along the other side of him, nudging her head towards the pirate ship. "I saw a Babelite battleship once. Supposedly no other ship could come within miles of it because the Eeee could hear the battle plans of the rival ship," she idly chitters, hoping the human catches her drift. Still, as they walk alongside the ship she nudges her companion a few times.

The human doesn't even turn to look. He just looks straight ahead, and keeps on walking.

The rat seems to take an interest in a Himaat airship, much in the way the Korv had taken an interest in the red wagon.

Once they're well past, the human says, "Well … might I borrow my coat back? I believe I saw a familiar face. This may be a job for the Luftwittern."

The rat peeks behind her, eyes scanning madly for any signs of being followed.

The rat doesn't spy any such sign … but it looks like the Bloody Shekel is shoving off. The human makes a frustrated sound. "Ach. There is little time."

"Right." Willow tosses the coat off and hands it to the human. "Good luck with the Luftwhatzits… "

The human puts his coat back on, then digs through an inner pocket and pulls out a small cylinder. In his hands, it telescopes out into a narrow spyscope, which he uses to spy the ship. "Ah. That is Weatherwax's ship, all right. He won't escape this time. No doubt it was he behind the theft of the blitz powder from the arsenal."

The human puts his scope away, frowning. "He's getting sloppy. I am almost inclined to say that this is 'too easy'."

"What's blitz powder?" The rat tilts her head sideways.

The human says, "An experimental concoction … It is like gunpowder used by the Rephidimites, except that it is made to work on the surface." He frowns. "Nonetheless, it is highly unstable, and is intentionally designed to deteriorate and become worthless not long after it is made … to counteract the quantum deterioration that would cause it to explode on its own… " He continues to ramble in a bunch of technobabble that makes about as much sense, but at least which indicates that he's studied up on the topic.

"Um… That would probably mean he's planning on using it pretty soon, right? Like maybe blowing something up in Chronotopia?" The rat's tail starts to take on a decidedly nervous twitch. "How powerful is the bit that he stole?"

The human says, "Enough to fire some cannons, or destroy a small building. Not enough to start a war, but enough to cause some damage where someone might not be expecting it. Gunpowder typically explodes on its own when brought down too close to the surface."

"So when does the cavalry arrive? And… er… is there anything I can do to help?" Willow bites her lip again.

"Well," says the human, "if Eberhardt got to the station in time, we should be seeing the Luftwittern dealing with the airship about the time it clears the ravine. Wouldn't want a fight over the city, after all."

The Bloody Shekel, meanwhile, continues to lift off and away from the docks. The Commissar frowns. "Did you see them do anything with this … packet?"

The rat scratches her head, trying to keep her mind busy, "No… I didn't get a good look at the deck, although Weatherwax didn't want any open flames up there, so he probably didn't take it below. What's this Luftwittern thingie? You think he's wanting to take that out?"

"That would be our air guard," answers the human. "They are all fliers, armed with well-maintained air-guns. They can be quite a hazard to any airships that refuse to be boarded."

Willow watches the ascent of the airship, tracking its direction. "This stuff can't be dropped and exploded, can it? It sounds like your fliers are agile enough to dodge explosives being chucked at them."

"Simply exploding it by itself will not cause that much damage," says the human. "To properly use it as an explosive device, one would have to put it inside a container that would create shrapnel when it was blown apart." He raises his spy-scope again, as the airship crests the top of the ravine. "Ah! The Luftwittern. It looks like they are flagging the ship… "

A couple of armored Cervanis walk up to the human and rat. Their attire is more of a mixture of armor and uniform, rather than the full armor worn by the elder Cervani who was accompanying the human earlier.

"What kind of trouble do you usually have with Weatherwax?" Willow watches the ship rise up grimly. Her only thoughts are that either this was a trap of sorts and she'll have to start running very soon, and Weatherwax is getting sloppy… or he's desperate. She's interested in finding out which it turns out to be.

The Commissar says, "I have been tracking him for a while. He has been attacking airships on the fringes of Chronotopia now and then, and sometimes in a way that it is attributed to a Titanian weapon, or the local problems with corsairs." He shakes his head. "But Weatherwax is too bloodthirsty to be mistaken for a Chronotopian corsair. Too many times that all hands aboard are lost."

Willow sniffs at the air, trying to seem indifferent. "Might just be a convenient way for him to blow up an airship. Didn't he get taken down a while back?"

"So I heard," answers the Commissar. "But not on my watch." Suddenly, the airship rips apart in a ball of flame! The human leaps to the side, bowling the rat over as he shoves her to the ground!

Immediately, alarms sound, and a red wagon with several black Khattas clinging to each side starts rolling up the winding roadway toward the top of the city, drawn by a couple of frantically pounding Dromodons.

"Hooouf!" the rat grunts out as she's slammed down by the Commissar. She scrabble under his grip, trying to get a look at what happened. ( He didn't! He couldn't have! )

Bits of the airship rain down to the ground as flaming debris. The winged Luftwittern can be seen flapping about, and some of them seem to be in pursuit of a couple of fliers from the destroyed ship.

At last, the human lets go of the rat. "Ach. My apologies. It is a Chronotopian reflex." The two Cervani guards get up from the ground as well.

Willow feels several emotions tearing at her at once… but the one that wins out in the end is absolute denial. "It was a distraction; it had to be. Da-… Weatherwax would never suicide!" She breaks out into an all-out run towards the docks. "I'll be right back!"

"Wait!" calls out the human … but the Skreek is already well on her way. The dock where the Bloody Shekel was tethered is empty, of course. The broken lantern is still visible on a rocky outcropping jutting out just beneath the wooden platform that the gangplank would rest against.

Panting as she comes to a stop, Willow stands there at the docks and looks down at the broken lantern, and then up at the skies. ( Fires… Why'd you have to go and kill yourself in such a stupid way? At the very least if you wanted to kill yourself, you could have come to me and let me do it myself. Stupid old rat. )

Something familiar reaches the rat's nose. It smells like tobacco.

The scent makes Willow feel sick to her stomach for a moment, not because of the odor but because of the memories attached to it. Slowly she turns around to look at the source of it.

There are just a few ashes of tobacco lying on the ground, as if recently tapped from a pipe. The smell is that of Weatherwax's favorite variety – an eclectic mixture of several different types picked up from the most remote corners of the world he has ever visited that have known the joys of tobacco.

Resisting the urge to drop to her hands and knees and track the pirate like some kind of hunting beast, Willow instead simply opts to track the scent and any other signs she might pick up along the way. She tries to keep quiet and hidden, figuring that the pirate might be a bit more cautious than the Korv. ( Someone had to be on the ship to pilot it. I wonder how many if his 'children' were up there. )

Willow's presence is largely ignored in the resultant confusion, as airshipmen rush about, and the local authorities try to calm the citizens and direct the fire brigades.

A loud whistle emits from a steam-engine wagon up on wooden tracks that run near the docks. It begins to make chugging noises, heralding its intent to start moving soon.

The rat focuses n the smell of that tobacco as she tries to figure out which way the captain went in the confusion.

Alas, the conflicting smells of the airship yard defeat any attempt at tracking smell at any range. It was only by being in such close proximity to a pile of the pungent ashes that the Skreek was able to detect them.

Still, there are limited choices as to where to go. Maybe the captain did a daring climb down the cliff face. Of course, there'd be the question of whether he did it alone, or with a sizable portion of his crew. No telling how many 'children' were aboard that airship, after all.

Or, he could have headed further into the docks, back out of the docks, or headed up further the cliff face to a higher level, such as the train station and the watch tower.

Growling under her breath, the rat jogs over to eye the steam-engine. There are too many people for him to have simply marched out through the city, and he's probably too old to have managed the climb. She hopes she can confirm her suspicions in time to warn the Commissar.

The steam engine looks to be perfectly fine … until the rat spots a crack in one of the nice, nearly perfect windows, that could have been made by some sort of weapon … and what looks like a baggage-boy taking a nap right out there in the open on the boarding platform.

( Triple scrud! I hope Brueggel can stop a train… ) Willow turns on her heel and runs for all she's worth back to the Commissar. As much as she'd like to take down the Captain on her own, she has the feeling that not even a silver shekel could save her from this demon without some help.

As the rat rushes back, she finds Brueggel talking animatedly with a guard that keeps saluting him after every other statement. He looks at the Skreek with surprise as she comes running back.

Willow practically hurls herself onto the Commissar, "It was a distraction! He's on the train!!! It's about to leave RIGHT NOW!"

Realization comes to the eyes of the commissar, as he belts out new orders to the guards. They almost fall over themselves as they scramble to switch gears and organize a move against the train.

Puffs of steam rise from the engine, as it starts to move. However … it's a slow starter, as many machines in Chronotopia are, and it will take a while before it's up to full speed.

Willow put herself behind one of the armored fellows, figuring that they can probably take an arrow bolt or whatever better than her unarmored hide can. She draws out a few of her daggers, "Can't you pull up the tracks? If they're made of wood… "

Brueggel cringes at the suggestion. "That's a horrible idea … but it may be necessary!" He snaps to a guard, "Get the Luftwittern! There's no more airship for them to chase!" Remembering himself, he repeats the order in Bosch, as he continues.

As they reach the boarding platform, they find a few baggage loaders and rail workers lying on the ground, wounded or dead, along with a few would-be passengers. There are also a couple of rough-looking kids – probably more of Weatherwax's "children" – indicating that somebody must have put up a fight.

There's little time to examine the details, however, as a Khatta on board the train smashes open a window and pokes a crossbow out. "We've got here HOSTAGES! Not a step further!"

"Well it's scruddy better than letting him escape!" The rat shivers at the sight of everything and even more at the Khatta. "Commissar… this is cruel of me. But you know that he'll kill them anyway."

Brueggel nods grimly, though for the moment he holds up his hands as if surrendering. "We do not make bargains with hostage-takers in Chronotopia." More quietly, he bites out an order to the Cervani next to him, whose ears pale … but who nods slightly nonetheless.

The train slowly rolls away. The Khatta on the train continues to knock away more of the window, but he doesn't really have enough of an opening to make a clear crossbow shot from his current position.

( One of these days I'll be able to afford a flintlock, and even more… be able to afford lessons in one. ) The rat swallows. "Forget what I said about laying low, Commissar. I'll fight with you."

The human replies. "This is not your place. You are a civilian … and a guest of Chronotopia. Go in peace." He eyes the cars of the train as they roll by.

"I'm not as innocent as one of your civilians, and I know how these folks fight." Willow fingers the daggers in her hands, "I want to watch this end. For myself, with my own eyes. I'm with you."

"All right then … NOW!" The Commissar suddenly leaps to the side, grabbing onto a ladder on the side of the caboose, as it rolls past. The guards do so as well, clambering up the sides. As the train rounds a turn, the caboose is presently in a blind spot if anyone wishes to fire from one of the windows of the passenger cars.

Willow lets the knives fall into their places in her belt and leaps after the human, grabbing for a spot on the caboose as well.

The rat easily finds purchase on the ladder, not being handicapped by having hooves like a Cervani, or being as large and unwieldy as the human. The human and the two Cervani climb the rest of the way up onto the roof of the caboose, giving Willow enough time to get up there as well before the train finishes rounding the corner and goes into a straightway that leads to a tunnel. (There's enough clearance, though, to avoid any messy situations caused by being on top of the train at the time, thank goodness.)

( Thank fires I don't have antlers. ) Foxfire pauses to clamp a knife in her teeth for easy access, and then looks to Brueggel for what's to be done next.

Brueggel crouches down, having less relative clearance to work with under the arch of the tunnel. Before the tunnel swallows up the sunlight completely, he makes a handsign, pointing down at the caboose beneath them, then holding up two fingers. He then points at an access hatch on the top of the caboose, and pulls out a knife, which he uses to pry it open.

As the train goes into the tunnel, the noise of the engine becomes deafening … drowning out the sounds of Brueggel's operation on the top hatch of the caboose.

The rat tenses herself, flattening her ears against the noise and waiting for the hatch to pop open.

There's a glint of what little remains of the light coming from outside off of the hatch as it pops open. The Skreek's keen nose immediately catches a whiff of two tense Jupanis down there … odds are, not Sylvanian natives.

( They're scared… good. Hmm, but they'll probably plug whomever comes down that hole. ) Willow slides back a bit and looks down towards the door leading into the caboose.

There's the hatch in the top, but Willow also saw – before the caboose went into the tunnel – that there's a door in the front of the caboose (providing access to the rest of the passenger cars), and another one in the back (with a railed-in observation deck of sorts).

There are a couple of windows on each side – as well in each door – though with blind spots where the ladders are affixed on the sides. This train wasn't meant to be a rolling fortress, after all.

The rat grabs one of the guards near her. "I'm going to distract them while you go in the hatch. Move in quick, or they'll probably cut me down. Pass it down to Brueggel." And then she clambers towards the back of the caboose.

The Skreek's night-vision allows her one up on the Jupanis visible lurking in the caboose. They sniff at the air, knowing that something is out there, no doubt … but unable to see just where it will be coming from.

The Skreek's night-vision doesn't give her a clear view of the weapons held by the Jupanis, since they are held below the frame of the windows … but their stances suggest that they're armed with chitin blades. They might also have a crossbow or two back there, but if so, they're not trying to use them in the dark of the tunnel.

Willow swallows and crouches down, holding a knife in each hand. She reaches up and grabs the knob of the door and yanks it open… hoping that if any bolts do go flying out that they'll end up sailing over her head if she stays low. The instant one of the wolves is in her sight, she flings a dagger at it.

Willow has the clear advantage in darkness … and the wolf doesn't stand a chance as he takes a dagger and goes down, flailing at an unseen assailant. The second wolf turns about … but is immediately cut down by a thin blade that Commissar Brueggel has drawn out of his walking cane. The first Cervani guard clambers in, and methodically deals with the dagger-stabbed wolf, while the other one fumbles for the door. Well, in truth, it's not quite as clean and simple as all that, but in the end, the wolves are down and out, and the caboose has been secured. No civilians are sheltering back here.

The rat momentarily feels as though she took a dagger to the gut as well. She retrieves her blade and prepares to move to the next car, trying not to look at the wolves too closely, lest she see a familiar face.

The darkness of the tunnel is short-lived, and the forward of the train is visible once more – or, at least, the passenger car immediately in front of the caboose. Through the windows, the red-uniformed Korvs of the Luftwittern can be seen making a formation in the sky above … occasionally shifting to avoid projectiles launched from the train.

"Your friends are distracting them. Hopefully enough so they they'll burn most of their bolts… but don't count on it," the rat whispers, wiping blood off on her shirt. "I'm ready to move."

The Commissar nods. "Each of the passenger cars has a top hatch, for access in emergencies, should the train be toppled – and another in the bottom, though of course that much harder to access. The foreigners may not be aware of this."

One of the Cervani guards belts out something, and everyone drops down. (The Skreek doesn't really have to at this point.) Glass shatters as a crossbow bolt comes from the window in the door to the next passenger car.

Willow swallows. "As much as I'd rather not eat railing right now, I might be the best suited to go under the train. I'm the smallest and probably the most agile of all of you, and I work better under the element of surprise anyhow."

Brueggel nods. "I may try for the top, but they'll probably notice me." He indicates the two Cervani guards. "The ladders aren't so well suited for them under situations such as this. We'll focus on drawing their attention away, and making an attack as soon as we can – at the very least, once it's clear that you're in, though if you do your job well enough, we might not be able to tell, yes?"

"There's that… or I could try to climb to the front car and stop the train. Unless Weatherwax turns me into slaw." The rat swallows and flicks her tail. "But if he goes down the rest of them should give up fairly easy."

Brueggel frowns, then nods. "I hear that Skreeks are better climbers. You may be able to get there faster, before he figures out that we're back here and decides to do something about it. I – " He breaks off, as the door to the passenger car pops open, and a Rhian bashes his way through, coming for the caboose door!

The rat leaps to the side and flings her knife at the horse, hoping to bring him down before he rips into someone.

The dagger flies true. The Rhian makes what would normally be a successful parry … except that it happens to be with his arm, and his reaction at the pain and the smell of his own blood is to stagger and lose his precarious balance on the link between the two cars. He falls … and the caboose lurches upward for just a moment, then comes back down again with a loud thud.

The caboose is shaking violently, though. Something isn't right here.

"Get to the next car… Quick! He's knocked us loose!" Willow leaps for the opening, palming another knife in her hand.

Brueggel and the guards rush after Willow for the next car … but as soon as the Skreek gets through, she's met by a Khatta at the door to the passenger compartment. He's barely adolescent, but he already has a patch over one eye and a hungry gleam in the other. Plus, he's got a wicked dagger in one hand. "Gonna gut you!" he boasts, as he makes a wild slash at the Skreek – but fortunately his boast isn't backed up by success just yet.

The rat drops down the instant the knife flies out at her and she lets it swing over her head. "It's not my gut you need to worry about right now, pup." She slams her fist out towards the cat's midsection, hoping to take advantage of his arm being held out.

The rat's punch isn't very well delivered in the sudden exchange … but the Khatta is still surprised by the counterattack, and leaves himself wide open as he stumbles backward. The air is knocked out of him, and he slumps to the floor, wheezing and clutching his gut.

The passenger car jolts off of the tracks, then on again, as the caboose is quite visibly off the rails, and wiggling its way to one side.

Willow takes up the Khatta's knife. "Can you release the caboose the rest of the way? Otherwise it might tip this whole train over!"

One of the Cervanis gets the idea, and stumbles to the back of the passenger car. Hanging out of the back, he turns a wheel… and the caboose is released!

The caboose immediately jacks to the side and rolls, splintering as the wood breaks apart across the rails … and doing a bit of work on the rails themselves, by the looks of it.

An old Korv caws excitedly, blathering on in Bosch from his perch to the side of the passenger car, and making wild gesticulations in the air with his wing-claws.

"Great. When this is over and if I happen to still be alive, I hope you can get me back to my ship before it ditches me. Now where's that hatch?" Willow digs around on the Khatta as she searches for his token red shekel, a vague idea forming in her mind.

A quick search reveals the painted coin, and the Khatta's vain attempts to fight off Willow are truly pathetic. Nonetheless, Brueggel gives him a sharp kick in the side to keep the Khatta distracted while Willow searches him. "Up there," indicates Brueggel, and then he pulls down a panel from the roof that hinges to the side, with a few rungs affixed to it. "It can take some brute force to get open sometimes … or a strong knife." He then punches the upper hatch open with the blunt end of his walking stick/sword.

"All right. Work your way towards the front. If I can get Weatherwax, I'll do something to let you know… like honk the whistle or something." The Skreek swallows and jumps up through the hatch, crawling slowly to the front car.

"May the Great Gear guide you!" calls the Commissar after Willow … and then it's just her on top of the rolling train of cars, the puffs of steam up ahead indicating the location of the engine pulling them along the tracks on this winding, suspended rail running along and crossing the canyon.

A fall off of the train means not only that … but in most cases a plummet to the very bottom of the ravine.

There are four cars in front of this one, then the fuel car, then the engine.

( I'm a very stupid rat. I'm a very stupid and insane rat… and why on Sinai do I keep moving forward? Just don't look down… ) The Skreek hugs the top of the train and starts to crawl forward. ( I'm not sure if Cap would hold an engineer hostage or drive the train himself. I'll have to risk peeking in the front car to be sure, or just see which one smells like his tobacco. )

The Skreek can catch the sounds of combat as she continues along her forward trek, as the Commissar and his guards must have encountered more resistance. And every once in a while, someone leans out of a window and fires at the Korvs flying above. As of yet, it doesn't look like any of the pirates have scored a hit on the Korvs, but the crows haven't exactly been posing a real threat anyway. At the very least, the windows along the sides of the train don't offer a line of sight to Willow's position atop the cars.

The rat keeps her ear braced against the top of the cars, hoping to hear something as she inches along. She sniffs at the roof panels.

At last, Willow reaches a break between the cars. It's going to take a leap to get across to the next car … and it looks like a couple of pirates are firing shots between cars at this point. So far, there's no hint of the smell of that familiar tobacco. But then, she's not all that far up the train just yet.

The rat braces herself, swallows… and then leaps for the next car!

Fortunately, none of the pirates were looking up at the time, being more fixated upon Brueggel and his guards in the next passenger car down. The thump of her landing on the roof, however, just might have alerted someone to her presence. Whether or not they can do anything about it remains to be seen.

Willow continues on as rapidly as she can, just in case someone decides to check up on the rat on the roof.

Just as Willow reaches the front of this passenger car … a sound alerts her to something happening at the rear. There's a loud "clatch" noise that sounds a whole lot like what happened when that Cervani guard released the caboose.

It just doesn't happen to be followed by the sounds of rolling and crashing train cars.

The rat's ears shoot up and she glances over her shoulder, ( Did they cut the rest of the train loose? )

Yes, it looks like the rearmost two passenger cars have been cut loose … Brueggel and company presumably being aboard one or the other, and probably still with a few pirates to deal with. At least the cars are still on the track, but they won't be catching up with the engine anytime soon.

( Ditches his own men… some father. ) Willow feels something inside of her grow hot and angry as she moves up to the panel. She presses her nose against it and sniffs.

Tobacco. He's either on this car, or was very recently. There's no mistaking that odor.

Other scents are mingled together, suggesting that there are more people gathered toward the front of the train than in the rear. There are definite tints of fear and excitement.

( Hostages. ) The rat cranes her head up to look at the engine and see who's driving it.

An engineer's cap can be seen poking out of the side of the engine. But more than that, there isn't a clear view of the engine's cabin.

Willow figures her best bet would be to separate the engine from the rest of the train, so on that line of thought she tries to jump from the passenger car to the fuel car.

The rat leaps over to the fuel pile … but the slick, polished surface of the roof of the passenger car has a smudge of oil on it, and she slips! The rat plunges down between the two cars … catching onto the back of the fuel car, as her legs and tail dangle perilously down toward the planks of the rail bridge that rushes by underneath!

The bottom of the canyon – and a rapids rushing through it – is unthinkably far below…

Amazingly, the rat manages to bite down on twelve dozen expletives. Maybe being around Thorn has been helpful after all. She scrabbles to get her legs pulled back up and shoots a glance towards the passenger car.

The Skreek manages to clamber back up to her feet, the front of her jerkin and trousers now covered in soot. Behind her, a window affords a view into the passenger car … as a large and broad-shouldered Skreek shoves his way through to glower at the newcomer on the fuel cart.

Willow shakes her head to the captain and holds up a crimson red coin. She thumps her fist against her shoulder, about where her old pirate-brand used to be. ( Hopefully I'm too messy for you to notice I'm not one of yours. Rats are a tenner a dozen… )

The captain still looks angry. He starts flashing some hand-signs that Willow knows enough to interpret as, to paraphrase, "What the Dagh are you doing? Get back there!"

Around him, seated in rows, is a full compliment of passengers, ranging from middle-class to upper-class.

The rat swallows and steps forward, pushing the door to the cart open. "Cap'n," she squeaks, trying to keep her voice to a deeper pitch. "We got 'at stuffy Brueggen guy! 'Es on da roof waitin' fer you to gut 'im!"

The captain raises an eyebrow, giving an incredulous look … and then he makes a gloating smile and nods.

He turns around, and can be heard shouting something further back in the passenger car, though since he's facing the opposite direction, it can't be made out up here over the noise of the engine. However, it sounds like a couple of cheers can be heard in response.

"I foughtcha might wanna string 'im out in front of 'is flappy boys watching over 'ead. They won't dare lay a finger on ye wif 'im up there." Willow tries to call up all the times she deliberately hunted down a prize kill for her captain like a puppy bringing a toy to its master in return for a few scraps of attention. The memories sicken her and remind her of a time when she was pathetic and weak. Still, this gives her a chance to size up what she has to fight against.

The captain moves further back down the car … presumably to climb up the back, rather than popping the top hatch (since he probably doesn't even know that it's there).

Willow pops back out the door that she came from and as quickly as she can, she starts twisting the wheel connecting the passenger car to the engine.

The rat stops twisting the wheel halfway. She'd like to think that she made some kind of attempt to help the hostages. Growling to herself, Willow climbs up to the top of the car to meet the Skreek.

As Willow climbs to the top, she finds a rather irate looking Captain Weatherwax on top.

The pirate captain chitters, "What's the big idea with this joke? You don't think I'm gonna laugh, are you? Standing up here where the flappies can take shots at me? Where's the flatface?"

"'E woz right 'ere!" Willow protests. "I bets that 'th Jupe 'oldin 'im down slipped off." The rat squints at something off in the distance behind the train. "There! I sees 'em clingin' to the tracks! Lookit 'em squiggling abouts!"

Weatherwax frowns dubiously, but at least turns to look – at the worst figuring Willow for an incompetent underling trying to weasel out of a whipping.

That's the opening the rat was looking for. She may have tugs at her conscience when it comes to helping folks time and again, but she's got nothing against sticking a knife in the back of someone that deserves it. In a lightning fast move, Willow pulls out the dagger she swiped from the Khatta and throws it at the rat's back.

It's not Willow's aim that is off. It's just that Weatherwax must have a sixth sense, or Dagh looking after him, or who-knows-what that prevents him from meeting the fate he so rightly deserves. He jerks back just in time to see – and dodge – the incoming blade. He probably isn't even stopping to think, as he reaches for his curved dagger and rips it from its sheath, his eyes narrowing into dark slits. "I'm gonna make you smile for that."

There's a squeaking noise from below, and the cars shake a bit as they start to crest the climb out of the canyon.

"Sure you will, pappy. Funny how you show your true colors when the moment of truth comes along. How many of your little babies bought it for this trip?" Willow pulls out another dagger and crouches down. She makes as if she intends to leap at the larger rat flailing, but instead she bobs to the side and lets another dagger fly.

Weatherwax swipes with his blade in an attempt at a parry, but he is overly cautious in his attempt to dodge when the car shakes … and fails to get to the side in time. The dagger catches him in the leg – a bit low, but it still prompts a loud curse, as he pauses to rip it free with his free hand and toss it aside. "Prepare to DIE!"

With that, the captain lunges forward … but he's now trying to balance himself on a moving car that's hitting bumps, going up a steep slope, and on one wounded leg. His slash is off, missing Willow entirely.

Foxfire's hand dives into her pouch, pulling out a bottle of mineral oil. She throws it wildly, hoping to get it to smash behind her nemesis while she tries to give him a rough shove with her shoulder to help him along his way. ( Fall OFF! FALL! )

The oil container smashes against the top of the car, spilling its contents and greasing the surface. Weatherwax is completely unprepared for the sudden rush from the knife-throwing rat … and he staggers off the side … but in his flailing about, he grabs the nearest thing … which happens to be Willow. Two rats fall off the side of the car …

The rat screams out and grabs wildly at anything she can reach. The side of the car, the tracks, anything! "Hey BIRDS! HELP!!!" she screams to the Korvs flying overhead as she plummets.

Captain Weatherwax, meanwhile, spews a steady stream of epithets … losing his grip on Willow in the free-fall.

It all ends rather abruptly as things go black a lot sooner than they ought to have, since the canyon floor was a lot further down the last time Willow looked…

And then Willow's consciousness snaps back into place. She's in a very uncomfortable position on a rocky ledge at the top of the ravine, just below the spot where the tracks go up and over, leading out of the canyon.

A couple of red-uniformed birds can be seen swooping down toward Willow. As nerve-endings report in … Willow can be sure that at least one arm is broken, and if that foot isn't broken, it's at least twisted something awful.

Despite how much she hurts, Willow laughs like a wild maniac. Her position has her too nervous to move, lest she end up with Weatherwax on the ravine floor. Instead she just waves to the approaching Korvs with her good arm.

Once again, Willow is the patient in her own sickbay … having just checked out of the Gutenburg Hospital with a thick cast around her left arm, a cast around her right foot, and several bandages here and there for good measure.

The train was stopped, as the pirates gave up once Weatherwax was … well … waxed.

There are still several members of the crew at large, however … and the airship that went up in flames wasn't necessarily the Bloody Shekel.

As for seeing the body … Willow's request to see it was only partially granted. She was allowed to see what they found of him. Not too much to identify, but there probably weren't too many other rats freshly dumped down the ravine to be mixed up with the good captain.

"I really hope they give me a medal for this. Otherwise I'm probably going to get fired." Willow glares at the ceiling from her sickbed.