The Pit of Himar is overcast by a low-hanging blanket of clouds that slowly swirl around in a circle centered on the Pit itself. Every once in a while, curtains of rain sweep down, drenching the Pit and its immediate surroundings. The after-effects of Wynona's storm spell seem to be lingering for quite some time … though Wynona has confided that the magic of Himar was more greatly depleted than she had intended. Given the alien nature of this whole situation, she can't translate that into any concrete measure of just what can or can't be done with it, or how long it will last. Not for the rest of her hoped-for lifetime, anyway.

The various factions wishing to lay claim to the Pit have set up camps both inside and just outside of the Pit – outside, in order to take advantage of technology, and inside, to take advantage of biology. Although some machines have proven to be more reliable now within the Pit, noone is taking any more chances than they have to. Sizeable greenhouse-like structures have sprouted up along the rim of the Pit, taking advantage of the cliffs to form a free wall.

There have been reports of a few conflicts and clashes here and there, but so far the overall peace has held. It is tense, yes, but still hopeful.

It has been a wearying week for Zoltan. His father has been a recluse for this time, retreating to what's left of his cabin, perched up against one of the red stone "needles" that rises from the northwest end of the Pit. Trying to lend a hand to quelling clashes has been quite tiring, and it hasn't helped that the hippogryph is still recovering from his battle with the Titan. Reports have come in that some of the nasty denizens of the Canals have slipped into the Pit over time, decimating the population of those who survived the original "Boomer" – especially the wild and scattered Jupani, who have not the safety of Elamoore's walls to retreat to.

A new day finds him recuperating at the Winged Citadel, after a tiring day hunting down "Rotbiters" – wretched little slug-lizard monsters that are much like Gooshurms … only that their bites cause a wasting disease which so far has no known cure.

The hippogryph has been given a chamber to rest in, with walls of some sort of odd stone unlike any he has seen that could be quarried on this world, and with a tinted, decorative window that filters in the sunlight to make colored patterns that slowly slide across the floor with the passing of the hours.

While the accommodations may not be luxurious, at least they look nice.

Zoltan stares blearily at the window, imagining the horn window from the Shiny Shoppe in the shape of a Vartan. He sits on his bed and begins scrubbing the day's dirt from his feathers with a small basin of water and a washcloth at his hooved feet.

There is a rapping at the door. It seems that no long period of time can pass without someone knocking on that door. And as often as not, it involves word of some new catastrophe that needs the hippogryph's attention. After all … he's the Hero from Another World. The Peacemaker.

"It's unlocked. Come in," the Vartan scrawks. He wrings some of the excess water from his rag and starts scrubbing it across his chest… focusing on the crystal band for some reason.

The door opens, revealing the Champion of Emeralds, and the Green Lancer, Malachite. Both snakes bow. "Good day, Zoltan of Sinai," hisses the Champion – evidently not one of those with a vow of silence. "It is my pleasure to tell you that the armor of the Champion of Shadows has been restored to its original glory … though some accessories have yet to be replaced."

Zoltan shakily pulls himself from his seat and returns the bow. "I am sure that the spirit of the Champion would be pleased to know that." He gently returns to his seat on the bed. "Accessories?"

"Some weaponry that employs ancient technologies that we are unable to replicate," the Green Champion explains. "In any case, we would like to ask a favor of you, should you be returning to Sinai again."

"You mean that shot that blew up the Progenitor." The Vartan suppresses a chuckle. "I understand. The sword alone is a powerful weapon in and of itself. But that's another matter. The Knights have helped me a great deal, I would not have come here at all were it not for you're guidance from your brethren on Sinai. I am at your disposal for whatever you need."

"Our brethren on Sinai are definitely of concern to us. We would request that you take the armor of Shadows with you to Sinai, and present it to the Knights there. The rest of the Shadow's Lance went to Sinai, and only he remained behind."

The Vartan drops his washrag in the basin. "Of course. I will be honored… It won't be any great task, considering I've carried it this far already. I'm sure that there's a Lancer in Golgotha that can fill it honorably."

The Champion and the Lancer bow. Emerald says, "Now then, I shall leave you. It would seem that a line is forming outside your chambers, and I would not wish to hold anyone up." The Champion's tongue flicks … perhaps in a gesture of amusement? … and he starts slither-backing his way to the door.

( So much for my bath… I hope my visitors don't mind talking to a Vartan with slime on his hooves. ) Zoltan manages to smile and bow to the two snakes from his seat on the bed. "Good bye, Champion of Emeralds, Lancer Malachite."

The serpents depart … and are soon replaced by a couple of cheetahs in armor. One of them is limping, using a warpwood crutch. His mask – Zoltan has gotten better at identifying the designs now – identifies him as Bearer-of-Arms, the pilot of the ill-fated Titan. The other is Son-of-Swords. Son-of-Swords holds up a hand in a formal sign of greeting to an honored rival.

The hippogryph's hand makes a clumsy responsive gesture… lacking a fifth digit can be an annoyance at times. He waits for the Cheetah to sign first before responding with anything more.

Son-of-Swords signs, "Congratulations on your victory against me and my champion. The Titan is not a complete loss, for, as it so happened, there were several spare parts available at the bottom of the cliff. You have illustrated a severe weakness in the design of the Lawbringer Titan. Rest assured, it will not be exploited again."

A pity, but sarcasm and sincerity can be so hard at times to discern in hand-sign. Especially with alien or near-alien cultures.

Zoltan's ears wiggle unconciously. "I pray that I am not one to test new design against. You gave me hardest fight of my life."

Son-of-Swords bows his head. "To the victor, I give a token of his victory." It is not Son-of-Swords who actually presents something, but Bearer-of-Arms. The limping cheetah brings forth a cracked crystal shape, blackened inside the rift, but otherwise very shiny, and casting tiny phantoms of red and green and purple on the cheetah's armor as the filtered light catches the facets. Son-of-Swords signs, "A component from the damaged systems of the Titan. One which is beyond repair. I have been led to understand that its properties with light hold some meaning to Vartans."

Zoltan's eyes SHOOT open. ( Shiny! ) He gingerly accepts the crystal and gently turns it in his hands. He carefully cradles the crystal in his lap so he can have his hands free to sign. "Thank you for gift; it is deeply beautiful. What it made of?"

Son-of-Swords signs, "Tears of the Saint of War, brought forth from the red soil."

"I honored. Thank you." The Vartan's beak dips low in a bow and he picks up the crystal again in his hands, turning it over and over and over…

The two cheetah warriors don't stay to watch the Vartan ogle his prize, but give formal warrior salutes, then leave. Or, presumably, that's what they did. The next time the Vartan notices anything other than the crystal, there are still two cheetahs standing there, and it takes a moment to realize that they aren't the same two.

"Gack!" Zoltan scrawks, fumbling with the crystal and then stickung it behind is back with an embarrassed grin. "Sorry. Can I help you?"

One of the cheetahs is definitely not in the typical armor of the Silent-Ones. It's a lot bulkier. Almost like a miniature version of a Titan, only fitted around a real cheetah inside. (At least, presumably that's the case, and the cheetah inside would be Born-in-Shame, according to the relatively bland heraldry.) The other cheetah is Tomorrow's-Hope, the youngest of the five that Zoltan rescued from the Progenitor. Tomorrow's-Hope signs, "It is our sincere wish that you may do so. We wish to accompany you to Sinai. I wish to earn my name, and … " The masked cheetah turns toward the one in the "power armor". "… Born-in-Shame wishes to lose his."

"For some reason I thought you going to say that." The Vartan scoots back on the mattress, wincing as his sore muscles protest the movement. "What would you do there, if I may asks?"

In unison, both cheetahs draw and raise their swords. *shing!* And then they sheathe them again. "Free our brethren!" Tomorrow's-Hope signs, excitedly. Born-in-Shame nods solemnly.

Zoltan cradles his chin in one hand, his talons make light 'click-click-click' noises as he drums them against his beak in thought. "Would you," he asks, dropping back into Vartanspeak, "be willing to serve under the Priest-Queen and obey her? She wishes to free your people as well."

The two armored cheetahs turn their visors to regard each other. As if THEY could read each others' faces. Then they look back to Zoltan. Born-in-Shame signs, "We should be honored to lend assistance to the Priest-Queen, if she is honorable, and serves the ways of the Star. By your report and example, we are confident that this is the case. But it would be unwise for us to make pledges to a liege we have not even met."

"She is one of my dearest friends on all of Sinai. There is no other liege I can think of who is more honorable… but I understand." The Vartan coughs and makes a strained growling noise at the spasms of pain the follow it. "Urgh… I just ask that you don't take it upon yourselves to march a holy crusade against all of Sinai and plot to kill every single slaveowner there. If you do, your crusade will be extremely short lived and you will probably find yourselves used as an example as to why your people are slaves on Sinai to begin with."

Tomorrow's-Hope signs, "I'd be satisfied with just fifty of them. I'm young and inexperienced, after all. I'd rather not push myself too hard."

Zoltan makes another pained noise…

There's some minor commotion from the hall outside, and a short black bird roughly shoulders his way in, tripping over the jamb and calling out over his shoulder. "Uhh… I would, but me throat's really dry right now, and… er… I gotta talk to Zol… the Peacemaker!"

The two armored cheetahs notice Kensington's arrival, and each steps to one side to make room in the middle for the avian corsair.

"Kensington! Good to see you… It, um… looks like we're going to have some companions along with us when we try and get back to Sinai." Zoltan gestures to the two cheetahs.

Kensington steps off to the side to eye the Savanites distrustfully. "Eh? What for?" he replies in Vartan. "Don't they know what kinda trouble would be waiting for them?"

The two cheetahs look hardly recognizeable as such. One is in a suit of power armor, and the other is in the robed and armored garb typical of the Silent-Ones … including a mask that hides his facial features, but which bears signs that spell out his name. To Kensington's eyes, the signs make perfect sense, without the least bit of trouble. Born-in-Shame wears the Centurion Powersuit, while Tomorrow's-Hope – a child-name, indicating that he has not yet done something worthy of his adult name – in regular Silent-Ones armor.

"I'm trying to convince them of that now… " Zoltan groans. "But I think that Third-Vision can keep then out of trouble."

The Korv scratches the back of his head. "Well, I'll tell you, Zoltan… pretty much all my life, I was taught the spots were nothing but slaves. This changes my outlook, sort of… but I still think this is all gonna be more trouble than we need. Lookit them." He waves a wing at the Silent-Ones, without really regarding them. "They'll stick out like broken dewclaws."

"Who's Third-Vision, anyway?" he adds, as an afterthought.

"I know, I know… " the Vartan grunts, running a hand through the feathers on the back of his neck. "Third-Vision? She's the queen of the Savanites… we've known each other for over a year now. It… um… another long story."

Kensington's brow scrunches up, making his crest stick out. "Queen of the… ? Oh, right… they have a little patch of plains to call their own now, don't they? Dagh, you'd think an airman would know more stuff like this." He folds his wings to strut in a circle around the Silent-Ones. "You can tell Born-in-Shame that his armor will have some problems on Sinai, to the best of my know-how."

Zoltan's eyes fall upon the two Cheetahs. "You heard him. And it is also my opinion that you will serve your people better without your armor… at least while you are not occupying the City of Hands."

Born-in-Shame signs, "My armor and my weapons are my only possessions, my only birthright, as a fatherless warrior of the Silent-Ones. It is only by a miracle of the Star that they were recovered from the Confederates. I am willing to suffer whatever problems my armor may bring me."

"Well, s'yer boat sinking, not mine." The Korv shrugs at the armor cheetah, then nods at the Vartan. "Up to you, Zoltan. You can count on me for anything you need… it's for your own sake I'm bringing it up."

The Vartan nods his head. "If you want me to take you to Sinai then I would like to ask you to behave yourselves. I would hope that what you have seen here has thought you that rushing in with guns blazing and swords swinging isn't the proper way of dealing with things like this. Until I can get you to the City of Hands, you will need to conceal your armor and act like slaves… otherwise you and I will probably end up dead or arrested, or both. that isn't how I'd like to return to my homeland."

Tomorrow's-Hope signs, "I could not bear such dishonor! It is not the place of a true warrior to play-act such a thing! How can it be honorable to act out such lies?"

Son-of-Shame signs, "I am willing to tolerate a season's humiliation, but I agree to an extent with Tomorrow's-Hope. I am not subtle, nor do I sneak about. It is not our way. Nonetheless, I respect you and your deeds, and the life-debt I owe you. So long as no evil is asked of me, I shall obey."

Kensington frowns around the corners of his beak. His neck feathers puff out as he signs back at Tomorrow's-Hope. "Look, do you want to help your people, or do you want to be a brick hanging from Zoltan's neck?"

Kensington's aero/nautical sinkisms don't seem to translate as well across languages, but he doesn't make to amend it.

Zoltan pulls a bright crystal from behind his back and turns it over in his hands. "The queen of the Savan pretended to be my slave for several months while she was judged to be a fit ruler. She didn;t like it, and nor did I… but it got her to the Savan. I know you are a proud people, but are you going to Sinai to serve them or serve your own pride? I am not asking you to abandon your weapons and armor, I'm asking you to keep them tucked away until you're in the place where they will serve you the best."

Born-in-Shame signs, "Humility is not inappropriate for me. I will do as you say. I cannot sign for Tomorrow's-Hope." He looks to the younger cheetah.

Tomorrow's-Hope's shoulders slump – hard to tell underneath the armored pauldrons, but it can be told nonetheless. "This is not the road the Star illuminates for me. I cannot go this way. Please forgive me for troubling you with this request, honorable Redeemer-of-Shadows." He salutes and turns for the door.

Wynona appears in the doorway as Tomorrow's-Hope is making his exit. "Hello! Whew! You wouldn't believe how many questions I've had to field about magic on Sinai! I'm almost afraid they'll want me to teach classes … and get disappointed when their experiments don't work!"

"I am sorry, Tomorow's-Hope." Zoltan scrawks. "It is just that the Savanite Empire is in a very delicate position right now. There are many who seek to ruin it… and they would see an armored warrior out to avenge his people in the same way you viewed my father when he attacked you in your stronghold. I feel your intentions are good… but your actions would cause more harm. I would very much like for you to serve the Priest-Queen, but I also must look to what I think are her best interests."

Wynona breaks off her report, as she catches Zoltan's words to Tomorrow's-Hope. She just adopts a sad expression, evidently knowing that she's missed out on something here, and isn't quite sure how to assess the situation.

Tomorrow's-Hope pauses for a moment just outside the doorway, then heads away, without any further gesture.

The corsair shrugs at Wynona and Zoltan in a 'what-can-you-do?' gesture.

Zoltan scoots sideways on his bed, wincing at each little movement. "Have a seat, Kensington, Wynona. I think it's going to get crowded in here before the evening's done with." He turns to look at Born-In-Shame, "You, go tell the knights to give you a room here. I'll let you know when we're ready to leave."

The heavily-armored cheetah bows his head in answer, and leaves the chamber, freeing up a considerable amount of room with his absence. (It is fortunate that the doorways here are especially large, to make way for large shoulderpads.)

Kensington steps over to settle down, cocking his head. "Aye, that's part of what I was gonna talk to you about. Well, that and I had blown the entire morning telling stories, and needed some refuge. But still, any ideas how we're getting home?"

Wynona squeaks, "Don't look at me! It seems that once they possessed the technology to travel between the stars … but given that they're all stuck here, that's obviously not an option anymore. And even if it did work … well, you've seen what happens to machines that get into a little slice of Sinai." She makes a raspberry sound with her mouth.

"Our best bet will be the same way we came. Although I think that if we get a ride there we shouldn't have them take us the entire way. After the Progenitor showed such an interest in going to Rephidim I worry a bit about what might happen if one of the other races knew of a way to get to the 'Promised Land'." The Vartan stretches his shoulders. "I've been dealing with visitors and hunting worms all day… I've not had time to talk with the knights about how they got to Sinai."

"Well, near as I can tell, they sailed the stars like we sailed water and air," muses the Korv, rubbing at the bottom of his beak. "Some of those buildings looked like they might've been ships that can't… uh… stay afloat anymore. I been hearin' their legends say that some of them are parts of even bigger ships… like the Intimidator, I guess, only real big."

Zoltan holds the crystal up to the multi-colored light cast by the windows and admires it. "It must have been something… I wonder how they lost the ability to sail around the planets?" His eyes fall on the door again, "Um… is anyone still waiting to be seen out there?"

Wynona peeks out the door. "Skies are clear for now."

"Huh! Thank Gretchen," caws Kensington, grinning. "Gave 'em the slip."

The Vartan pats at his sides. "That Titan knocked half the life out of me when it hit me. I think I'm going to need a few days of solid bedrest before we go anywhere. nothing's broken… but Dagh near everything hurts still. Chasing the Rotworms hasn't helped much either."

Kensington makes a 'tcha!' sound in the back of his throat. Some of his old accent creeps back into his Vartan. "Ye been chasin' rot worms after being nearly smashed t'death? Are ye daft? Ye gotta mend!"

"You sound like a mother Vartan, Kensington." Zoltan says with a wink. "But I understand. I just figured that it wouldn't reflect well if after all the work I did to arrange for the treaty that after it was put into place I crawled into my room and hid for awhile. I needed to push the ball a little bit… those Rotworms apparently killed off most of the Jupani in the pit and needed to be dealt with by any able hand that could swing a pike."

Wynona says, "Well, what if … what if we get there and find out that we can'tget back? Do we have a Plan B? I don't mean how we get back to Sinai, necessarily … but I really don't like the idea of being out there in those hot springs with nowhere to go but the Confederate Life-Dome." She shudders. "Even if it's under Imperial control now."

Kensington's brow ridge flattens over the bridge of his beak. "Phoo. I'm goin' soft if I'm lettin' people call me stuff likes that. But if they need someone to dice worms that bad, I'll lend a blade. Oversized sandfish bait ain't nothin' to worry over. Wynona's got a point, an' ye should be thinkin' more about that, too."

Wynona says, "Well, actually, the sting of a rotbiter – or a rotworm or whatever you call it – is lethal. That's what bit our dear friend the Overseer a long time ago, supposedly. There's no cure. Other than grafting on new body parts for the rest of your wretched existence. And I didn't even know that was a possibility before coming here."

The bat mage shudders at the notion.

"It's been hard to think about all that much when I've had so little time on my own to think about such things." The Vartan rubs his head. "Well, we can ask how the Knights got to Sinai and if they have a ship we could use… maybe the piece of Abaddon is safe to land on? Our other options besides the Crystal formation and a ship are trying to use the last bit of the magic to duplicate what happened at Himar and pray that it doesn't send us somewhere else like the sun. Or just set out on our own and try to see if we can come up with anything else. Herbir has been to the Crystal thingy in Himaat. Maybe he could tell us a little about it."

Kensington leaves off talk of jabbing worms with long sticks. "Sounds reasonable, Zoltan. I'm all fer it. When d'we start? We have to clean up the worm problem first?"

"The worms have been dealt with mostly, although the canals are infested with them. I think that's why they've been dammed up." Zoltan slumps down. "I'm also waiting for word from Herbir… and I can't go anywhere farther than the pit until some of these bruises heal over. Hrrr, if that Titan had hit me ten years ago it probably would have broken every bone in my body, I've just been training these past couple of years and I've managed to develop a slightly thicker skin."

Kensington's beak parts with harsh laughter. "Well, I'd say it fared worse'n you."

"Son-of-Swords was here, he gave me a shiny to remember the fight by!" The Vartan gleefully holds out his crystal. "Isn't it beautiful?"

The corsair tilts his head to one side. "It's… uh… yeah, it's nice! What is it?"

Wynona says, "You trash their giant machine, and they thank you for it?" The bat giggles. "These Silent-Ones are most unpredictable!"

"It's um… ur… " Zoltan's eyes skoonch shut as he tries to recall the signs. "Tears of the Saint of War."

Wynona frowns. "I think I see a trend here."

Kensington tosses his head, smirking. "Probably wept 'em when his Lawbringer bit the dust."

Wynona giggles squeakily!

Zoltan hugs the crystal to his chest. "How do you mean, Wynona?"

"Believe it or not, the PILOT was the one who gave it to me… although he looked not much better than I did." The Vartan's ears wiggle.

Wynona covers her mouth, then says, "Oh, I was just commenting on how … well … war-like they are. I mean, yes, they're soldiers … but who of the Silent-Ones isn't a soldier? Even their priest seems like he could give someone a severe drumming with his staff. And they wear armor all the time. Isn't that more than a little strange?"

Wynona shivers, saying, "It's also fairly creepy how much they all look alike if you see them without their masks."

"Bah. They looked the same to me, even on Sinai," snorts Kensington. "And a little war never hurt no-one. Okay, so it did… but a little bit is good for you!"

Wynona gives Kensington a critical look, as she crosses her arms. "Riiiiight."

"In a way… it doesn't surprise me very much. The fact that they're all warriors I mean. I've picked up little facts about how the Savanites on Sinai were before they became slaves… and they weren't horribly different than how they are here, just their honor system was a bit different." The Vartan puts his bauble down on the bed and fishes out his washbasin and rag again. He starts scrubbing some of the mud from his hooves. "The masks seem a bit odd to me though."

Kensington's crest sticks up a little. "Well… it did me good," he rasps, a little defensively. "Mostly."

"We freed Paradys with a little war," Zoltan comments quietly. "Although we had to kill a lot of people to do it."

Wynona shakes her head, "Oh, I don't want to get into a 'war is good, war is bad' argument. I mean, it's not like you go out and say, 'Hey, I'm bored, let's start a war!' Not unless you're a Titanian, I guess. But I don't think these Silent-Ones could handle peace."

Kensington flicks his tailfeathers. "Aye, I admit… you don't wanna start a fight for no reason. There's such thing as too much peace too, I'm sure. But I have to admit, everything I've seen about the Silent-Ones is based on fighting… hmm."

The Vartan frowns. "That's going to make the Treaty here a bit difficult… maybe we need to come up with a way to get that to work in our favor? Perhaps we could convince them to be the peacekeepers of the pit and make sure nobody tries to take it for themselves. Hrr… or maybe they could go wage a war on those annoying little rotworms."

Wynona laughs! "They'd never run out of opponents then!"

"I dunno if a righteous war on the rotworms'll spark their sense of the honorable, but they'd probably take roles as pit protectors pretty seriously."

Zoltan taps his beak, staring at the ground in thought. "They need something to keep themselves in check though, something to kepe them from going Tyrant and taking the pit for themselves or making everyone else start taking up arms again. Maybe they could work alongside the Knights. They were here first after all, and I think that out of all the people here on Abaddon they relate to the Knights the closest."

Wynona shrugs. "Maybe. I don't think we can come up with a masterplan to keep everyone happy forever, though. We might have some 'hero' clout … but … that only goes so far. Unless we think we can stay here and babysit them for the rest of our lives." She blows a stray lock of hair out from over her eyes.

Kensington makes a distasteful face. "Feh, we done way more than anybody'd be called on to do. Ye can't protect 'em from themselves forever."

"I know. These people will have to learn to keep to the treaty on their own." The Vartan's eyes close. "I just don't want it to fail because of the actions of anyone on Sinai. It was Sinai that caused this whole mess… now that its been healed as best as it can be we need to pull out and hope these people will manage without us. The original treaty was broken because of Sinai, it was mended by Sinai."

The corsair slaps his knees in a gesture of conclusion. "Well, then that's that, ain't it? They get a pretty chunk o' land while they're at it, too. Oh, and I guess the Titanians get a big red playground."

Zoltan just shrugs. "I wonder if there's more like Born-in-Shame among the Savanites here… "

Wynona groans and slaps her forehead. "Really, though … I wonder how long that playground is going to LAST. If there's magic here from Sinai … but it's limited … and if a piece of HERE is in Sinai … maybe the un-magic is limited as well?" She crosses her eyes at the notion. "I know I sound silly, but am I making any sense at all?"

Kensington rawks, "No, but that's why yer the mage, and I'm the dunderhead."

Wynona giggles! "Oh yes! I forgot the part about sounding confident and always seeming like I know what I'm talking about." She winks.

The Vartan manages a chuckle. "So the Titanians machines will start exploding again when they settle into the red cliffs. I think they'd probably like that… unless you're worried that this while place is going to fade back to sinai all the sudden when things balance out."

Wynona frowns. "No … I don't think THAT will happen. I don't know how those Boomers work, but the Pit of Himar isn't held here by a spell. If that were the case … well … magic just doesn't really work like that."

Wynona says, "If you use magic to sculpt a statue out of stone, when you're finished … you have a statue made out of stone. There is nothing inherently magical about it once you're finished. If someone tries to dispel the magic from it … it doesn't go back to being a featureless block again. I think Himar is here to stay, for better or worse."

"That's a good thing… because otherwise I'd probably suddenly pop into two halves when whatever it was that hit me when they dropped the boomer over Himar." Zoltan scrawks wryly, shaking some excess water from his foot.

"What are the boomers, anyway?" asks Kensington. "No-one ever 'splained that to me. Except for the Progenitor, kinda… but then, I only just saw what happened."

Wynona squeaks at the notion. "Well … I'm going to head back to the Pit. If we DO plan an expedition back to Sinai … you know, we DO have the prickly problem of what to do about possibly inviting along several unwilling immigrants to Abaddon as well, you know. Remember Elamoore? Not everyone got eaten by rotbiters."

"If you see Herbir, tell him where I am… but don't pester him. As for Elamoore, they have as much of a right to go home as we do." Zoltan scrawks to Wynona before focusing on Kensington again. "I'm not sure myself. I could sketch a picture of one for you… and I know that when you dropped one it made a big explosion. I saw them on a big metal bird on Paradys but I never knew exactly what they were until the Babelites tried to kill my family over them."

Wynona nods. "I did run into Herbir once. He was grousing about, pacing around those stone needles. He said something about how he had buried a shiny in the ground at the base of each one, and now they're sealed in rock. He's pretty upset about it. Especially losing part of his cabin and all. I find it all mind-boggling myself, so I didn't even TRY to offer any explanations."

Wynona blinks a couple of times at the commentary about the attempts on the lives of Zoltan's family, but doesn't say anything.

Kensington whistles to himself. "Eh, maybe I'll come with ye. Zoltan looks t'need some peace himself, and I guess I hid in here enough as it is."

Zoltan traces a claw across the crystaline slash on his chest. "The one in Himar did this to me… and I sence that it could have been a lot worse." His feathers bristle a bit. "Father… a shiny? Hrrr… "

Wynona nods. "Something to do with his visit to the Tower in the Forbidden Zone, I gathered. I almost think he didn't bother to go inside, but just loaded up on as many 'shinies' as he could carry. I was about to try theorizing about the effects of 'shinies' upon whatever brought Himar here … but you brought one with you, right? So there must be nothing keeping them away from Abaddon per se."

"That's… very interesting… hrrr," Zoltan's ears splay out as he thinks. "I wish I knew how that might help us, unless we decided to go to the crystal thing… smash it to bits, bury the pieces in parts of the dirt that we wanted to say and then drop a boomer on our heads. That sounds like a REALLY crazy notion though… "

Kensington caws, "Don't knock craziness. It comes in handy sometimes."

Zoltan hmmms. He untangles the piece of crystal from his tail and places it beside the one given to him by the Savanites. He starts digging through his pack and pulls out a familiar looking Amber mask. Curiously he holds it up to look at the two pieces of crystal. "I wonder… "

Wynona hmms. "Well … that would all assume that the boomers serve the purpose of swapping land between Sinai and Abaddon. That would be fairly strange."

The Vartan chuckles to himself. "Maybe they're the eggs laid by those big metal birds. When they hatch they explode and a little metal bird comes out.

Wynona giggles at the notion. "Well … where did the little metal bird go, then?"

The air mage looks as if she's straining to answer her own question, to keep the silly notion going.

Wynona snaps her fingers. "Aha! They come here … and the Imperials fly them!"

The air mage hmms. "Well … that was constructive. Maybe I'd best mosey along and let you get back to … ah … whatever you were doing. I'll say 'hi' to Herbir if I see him, all right?"

"I thought about the Imperials," Zoltan scrawks, putting the mask away. "But inside the bird on Paradys was a human and some Jupani… " He waves to Wynona. "Just say hello and tell him where I am. Don't bug him too much. I don;t want to push him if he doesn't want to talk."

The Korv's gaze wanders around during the confusing talk, then snaps back into focus. "Eh? Bring Herbir explodiong bird eggs, got it."

Wynona says, "Hmm. Humans and Jupanis. Seems to be something odd and coincidental going on there. Well … Take care!" And with that, the bat skips out of the room.

"Kensington!" Zoltan shakes his head. "Nevermind. Herbir knows where I am."

Kensington gets to his feet, stretching as well. "Mmmph! Maybe I best leave ye be too, Zoltan. You should get some rest, and chopping apart worms in the drivin' rain could be refreshin'. Hey, I'll say some of them are yers, so they don't come knockin', eh?"

It is raining outside now, just as it does every once in a while, in the aftermath of Wynona's spell.

"It might help to go check on the dams. The last thing we need is to have them overflow and flood the pit with worms." Zoltan puts his head in his hands. "I'd like to go talk to Herbir… There's so much I want to ask him. About what mother was like, about what the tribe was like back home, about the places he's seen. Every time I see him I feel like a part of me is going to burst if I don't start asking him. I've been looking for him for so long… and now I have to keep him at arm's length."

Kensington rolls his shoulders helplessly. "Ye just gotta take it all as it comes, Zoltan. I never knew me mum, and pop… ehhh… don't get me started on him. Anyway, I never needed t'look behind me, just ahead of me. Trust me, when ye look back too much, ye start bumpin' into stuff y'should've watched for."

"My family is important to me, Kensington. I'd been alone most of my life… and then just in the past couple of years I've adopted children, found out my father is alive, renewed things with my master Nicodemus from the Shiny Shoppe." The Vartan exhales sharply thorugh his nostrils and kicks weakly at the muddy water in his washbasin. "I'd just like my son anddaughter to meet their grandfather, just once. And it's hard for me to step back when I want to protect… it makes me do rash things sometimes like go after a Titan or wage a war against the undead… and someday it might even kill me. It's just hard to fight off the urge to reach out after I needed someone to reach out to me when I was young."

Kensington waggles a wing indifferently. "Well, s'yer bunch, not mine. Been outcast all me life, so I'm used to it. So, did you want to look over the moat? I'm against it, but if you want to, not much I can say, eh?"

"Though it'd be a shame for ye to have to wash up again," he adds.

"I don't think you're as much of an outcast as you think you are, Kensington. But that's a journey you'll probably explore on your own." Zoltan leans back. "After today… I don't think I could fly another inch. I think I'm going to just lay on this bed, close my eyes, and not open them again until my muscles stop yelling at me."

The corsair strides briskly to the door, his scabbard chains jingling. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I'll think about it while I'm skinning worms. Bet you a mug of rotgut on Sinai that I take in more than you! Hah!"

The Vartan puts a hand over his face. "Don't say the word 'rot', please." He starts to move into a more comfortable spot on the bed. "And if you do decide to take that journey, let me know. I know someone in Shabar that needs an item returned to him that might be able to help you out. He said I wouldn't be the one to return it… but maybe you are."

Kensington pauses in the doorway, looking momentary puzzled, before shrugging and disappearing from view. His jingling moves down the hall, until it can no longer be heard.

Zoltan smiles to himself and rolls over onto his stomach, letting his aching wings droop across either side of the bed. ( At least it's better than the floor… and they actually found a bed that FIT. ) He lets his breath out slowly and closes his eyes.